Poetry Friday

I like this poem quite a bit, for a few reasons, but especially for the coffee shop food and furnished rooms it conjures. I've lived in furnished rooms and while they generally did not make me the least bit happy at the time, the way Edward Field so perfectly captures a certain kind of life does make me happy. Oh, how I love words and what we can do with them.


People Who Eat in Coffee Shops
 by Edward Field

 People who eat in coffee shops
are not worried about nutrition.
They order the toasted cheese sandwiches blithely,
followed by chocolate egg creams and plaster of paris
wedges of lemon meringue pie.
They don't have parental, dental, or medical figures hovering

(read the rest here.)

The round up today is at Great Kid Books.

Openness to Life: St. Catherine of Siena

St. Catherine of Siena was, depending on which source you read, the 23rd or 25th child in her family.

Visit Alicia for Loads of Giveaways

The other day I mentioned Alicia Van Hecke -- then I found out that she is celebrating her 5th Blogaversary this week and had planned some giveaways.

I offered her a copy of my Rosary book, so if you head over there, you can leave a comment on her post and be entered in her drawing for my book, as well as for all kinds of other goodies: books, movies, subscriptions.  Head over and check it out.

And, happy Blogaversary, Alicia!

*****

Updated to Note:  Alicia has added a few more fun giveaways, so if you haven't left a comment on her post, run over there now!

A Two-Year-Old's Attention Span

How quickly they forget.

I'm talking about two-year-olds, yes. They want everything they see, everything everyone else has, and they want it right now, but they can also be so easily distracted and redirected.

But I'm also talking about myself -- how quickly I can forget what it's like to mother a two-year-old.

We had five extra kids at our house while the kids' parents attended a weekend retreat. The teens? Barely knew they were here, other than the empty chip bags.  The seven year olds and the five year old?  Busy playing with dolls and PlayMobil, being queens and princesses, and asking for more milk.

The two-year-old?  In a no-longer-toddler-proofed house, I was on alert for dangers. What's in my unlocked cupboard under the kitchen sink? Why are those matches in that very low drawer?  Could that bookcase fall over if he climbs it? (And let me tell you -- this boy can climb, especially when there are doughnuts on the counter.)

Don't get me wrong -- he was great. He's a superbly well-behaved little guy. He went to sleep beautifully and dutifully when he needed to, and his big sisters and my girls were all a huge help with everything this weekend. But, the physical duties of caring for a two-year-old are more demanding than what I'm currently used to.

How quickly I forget. And how quickly I remember, too,  what it's like to sit and rock a little body to sleep.

It was a gift to re-experience a certain kind of exhaustion, and to be forced to speed up and slow down and fall in love all over again with my rocking chair.

How was your weekend?

Poetry Friday: It's just one of those "I Love Billy Collins" days

Litany 
by Billy Collins

You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine . . .
Jacques Crickillon

You are the bread and the knife,   

the crystal goblet and the wine.   

You are the dew on the morning grass   

and the burning wheel of the sun.   

You are the white apron of the baker   

and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.   

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,   

the plums on the counter,   

or the house of cards.   

And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.   

There is just no way you are the pine-scented air.   

(Read the rest here, at the Poetry Foundation.)

~~~~~~~

The  Poetry Friday round up is at Picture Book of the Day.

Another Likable Person, AND She's Giving Away a Copy of My Book

If you'd like a chance to win a copy of The Rosary: Keeping Company with Jesus and Mary, please go visit Mary Ellen Barrett at Tales from the Bonny Blue House.

Just leave a comment on the post -- Mary Ellen will leave comments open on all of her giveaways (she's offered something every day this week) until Saturday at noon, and she will draw winners sometime over the weekend. (See the above-linked post for more details.)

Mary Ellen is offering three different items today, so if you specifically want to be entered for the Rosary book, please let her know. (And, be sure to leave her an email address so that she will have a way to contact you if you win.)  I will sign and send out a copy to the winner.

The Profound Thoughts of My Children

What I found written on my bathroom mirror yesterday*:

"What if the hokey-pokey really IS what it's all about?"**

*Don't bother with those expensive window markers, by the way. Dry erase works perfectly for children who want to deface mirrors and glass of all kinds around the house.

**Of course, this is not an original thought. But my children know how to take a thought-provoking subject and run with it. Straight to the bathroom mirror.

Ramona on Lissa

Speaking of likable people, here are two more:

Ramona said to me the other day, as she was rereading Down to the Bonny Glen, "Mommy, Lissa's really a great writer."

"I know! I agree! She's wonderful."

"I mean," Ramona continued, "listen to this: Martha closed her eyes and felt the wind on her face. She wanted to drink it. I mean, she has ... oh, she has the spirit of a writer."

Calling Your Attention to:

one of my favorite people, Alicia Van Hecke, who runs the Love2Learn website.

This post is a perfect example of why I love to read Alicia's blog. There's a link to an interview with Alicia about "The Catholic Home" in which you can hear her lovely, balanced, intelligent vision (and reality) of homeschooling and living the Catholic life with her children. There are bits and pieces of her day there, links to things like lovely journals and a self-test about sensory issues. Finally there is a gorgeous Cardinal Ratzinger quote.  (Though this was a "7 Quick Takes" post, and obviously varied for that reason, I think this post is representative of the rich tapestry that is Alicia's world.)

Disclaimer: 
This is not a paid advertisement for Alicia Van Hecke or for any product related to Alicia Van Hecke or Karen Edmisten or lovely journals or sensory integration tests. I just like Alicia a whole lot. (Insert appropriately cute smiley face here.)

Bits and Pieces of Procrastination

I am simply paralyzed of late with my blogging efforts.

I look at my blog in horror -- at its level of post-neediness -- and I think, "I have absolutely nothing to talk about!" or, "My children are boring and have said nothing funny today!" or, "I have two writing deadlines coming up, and that means that all I can think about is rearranging my closets!"

Then, I think, "I never use this many exclamation points! And the italics ... what's that about?"

Then, I go peer in my closet and wonder if rearranging it will make writing deadlines go away. It never has in the past, so I'm not overly hopeful about that.

In an effort to put off writing for just  few more minutes, I'll just add these bits and pieces or our days:

* Ramona is toothless and painfully adorable:

* My eldest child is officially registered for her first early-entry college class in the fall. Young moms, take note: the years pass quickly. Scarily quickly.

* Betsy will soon appear in our church choir's annual musical.  Last year, the production, which I co-directed, led to renewed faith in the Holy Spirit and the power of paper plates. This year, I have done nothing but make a few halos. I plan to sit in the audience and enjoy the new Stanislavsky's vision. Betsy will play an angel, which is not a stretch for her. More specifically, she'll play a Sassy Angel, which is a bit of a stretch, because although Betsy is great at pretending to be sassy, in reality she's one of the best children I've ever met. (I know two other really great ones, too.)

~~~~~

< /Procrastination >

From the Inbox: Free Stuff and Giveaways

Go visit Mary Ellen at Tales from the Bonny Blue House for a week of giveaways -- books, planners, magazine subscriptions ....

From the Inbox: Homeschooling and Planning

From the Inbox:

Homeschool Connections is offering some early enrollment discounts on registration for their summer courses and camps. The discounts expire April 30th.

~~~~~

Michele Quigley's beautiful Family Centered Press planners are now available for pre-order.

Craft Talk with Ramona

Ramona: Mommy, will you do a craft with me?

Me: I can't at this very moment. I'm in the middle of laundry.

Ramona: But you're the cruh in my craft.

Me: What?

Ramona: No, wait. That sounds too much like crud. You're the -aft in my craft.

Me: That sounds too much like daft.

Ramona: What does daft mean?

Me: Crazy.

Ramona: Okay. You're the cra- in my craft.

Me: Hmmmm. Let me think about that one. But I still can't do a craft this very instant.

Ramona: Hmmfff. Okay. Then I'll go pretend I'm having a swimming lesson.

~~~~~

Works for me.

Shakespearean 'Go Fish' with Ramona

Ramona: Mommy, dost thou have any fives?

Me: No. Sorry. Go fish.

Ramona: Mommy. You have to say, "Go fisheth."

Poetry Friday at 7-Imp

Poetry Friday is being hosted today by Jules at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.

For my entry, I'll confess laziness -- I am sending you back to my Wednesday post, Thirteen Ways of Looking at an Interruption.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at an Interruption

 Thirteen Ways of Looking at an Interruption 

 by Karen Edmisten, 
with apologies to Wallace Stevens
(Original lines from his poem, Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird are in italics. Obviously, all the good lines are his. The children, however, are mine.)


I
In the stillness of night,
The only moving thing
is a child.

II
I was of three minds:
sleep, motherhood, sleep.

III
I pretended not to care that I was awakened.
It was a small part of the pantomime.
There is my "to do" list, and then there is God's.
These are not the same thing.

IV

A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a child
Are one.
Add, mix and stir: my daughters' "to do" lists are mine.


V
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The life with the child
or the thought of that life.

VI
Chatter filled the long day
The company of children
Transformed a mood. Sometimes
for better. Sometimes ... not.


VII
O, dear control-freak-self,
Why do you imagine a different life?
Do you not see how the life
you've been given is unspeakable gift?

VIII
I know of a tidy life,
of elegance, rhythm and control.
But I know, too, That a child is involved
In what I know.

IX
When my children have grown,
They will mark the edge
Of one of many circles.
I will be grateful for their imprint.

X
At the sight of children
I used to say, "Not for me, please.
An unwelcome interruption."
But something shifted. I gave myself
Over to motherhood, and held on tight.

XI
Once, a fear pierced me,
that I would never rise to this task,
would not die to self.


XII
3:20 a.m.: A nightmare. She needs me more
than I need this sleep. 
I rise. I go.
A child will not wait for morning.


XIII
It was nighttime all day.
I loved her and I was going to love her.
The child sat entwined in my limbs.
The interruption sweetly complete.

~~~~~

More about Wallace Stevens here.

I think I know what I'll have to give up next year for Lent

In February, I saw this post about Chewy Granola Bars at Faith & Family Live.  The original recipe came from Smitten Kitchen but I took Arwen's shortcut (subbing wheat flour for oat flour) and upon tasting the final product knew immediately that I could not make these bars again during Lent.

Too. Good.

Enjoy. 

A bumpy day for Ramona

Last night she told me:

"Mommy, my happiness meter has been up and down today."

 (I'm hoping today is one of those off-the-chart days to make up for yesterday's variables.)

How You Know That Spring Has Arrived

Hear a chirp.

Get a confused look on your face.

Say to self, "Didn't I just change all the batteries in the smoke alarms?"

Hear chirp again.

Sigh.  Purse lips in annoyance with smoke alarm manufacturers. Or perhaps with battery makers.

Hear chirp again.  Realize it's coming from a bird.

Feel foolish Yet delighted.

Get more coffee.

Wimpy Ramona

The following whispering occurred before the start of  Holy Mass yesterday:

Anne-with-an-e: I'm freezing!

(Editor's note: the a/c was on.)

Me: Be tough.

Anne: Are you implying that I'm a wimp?

Me: Weeeeell ... (indicating a smidge with thumb and forefinger) ... maybe just a teeny bit.

Ramona: I'm a wimp, but I'm fully aware of it.

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

Remember Seinfeld's Golden Boy t-shirt?

Yesterday, Atticus wore his Golden Boy sweatshirt to a potluck dinner at church. I frowned. It's seriously time to retire that Golden Boy. The grease stain on the sleeve might be an actual fire hazard. And the fraying collar could trigger a Consumer Product Safety Commission recall due to the threat of strangulation.

This morning I also had to wrestle a t-shirt from Anne. I told her that her Golden Boy was not merely dying ... Golden Boy was gross.

I'm no fashion plate, but I know when a garment has joined the choir invisible.

*****

I held a newborn baby for awhile yesterday, at a reception after a baptism. His head smelled of chrism, and he nestled sweetly on my shoulder. And I was both extremely happy to hold him and happy to return him.  Contentment with one's stage of life is highly underrated.

*****

The other day I tweeted:

Off to library -- what to read? No. More like: "What to check out then return in 6 weeks after renewing twice because I had no time to read."

But, Reading Hope springs eternal. I ended up with Richard Wilbur's Things of This World, About Alice by Calvin Trillan, Nurture Shock: New Thinking About Children by Po Bronson and Ashley Merryman (and here's Alicia Van Hecke's review),  Ellen Sandbeck's Organic Housekeeping, The Bread Loaf Anthology of Contemporary American Essays, and Blank: The Power of Not Actually Thinking at All (which is just a very lightweight little parody of Malcolm Gladwell's Blink.)  

My wandering time at the library was courtesy of my kiddoes' involvement with the young adult book club. They had a great time discussing all kinds of books, and came out of the meeting laughing.

"How geeky are we?" asked Anne. "We have inside jokes with our librarian."

*****

Yesterday was Divine Mercy Sunday. I love the Chaplet of the Divine Mercy. Years ago, before I was a Catholic, I was struggling with an enormous problem. I'd stopped attending the Episcopal church and was completely adrift. My friend, Jack,  gave me a copy of the chaplet and said, "Here. Pray this every day for the next month." I shrugged and thought, "It couldn't hurt."  I prayed it daily and at the end of that month, something I had greatly feared had been resolved. Ummm ... okay.  I knew the prayer wasn't a “Catholic magic charm" but it did seem to be a road sign. A big, neon one.  I signed up for RCIA within a month.

Poetry Friday: Wendell Berry

A lovely, perfect, thoughtful poem for this spring morning:

The Thought of Something Else

by Wendell Berry

A spring wind blowing   

the smell of the ground

through the intersections of traffic,

the mind turns, seeks a new   

nativity—another place,   

simpler, less weighted   

by what has already been. 

 ...

(Read the entire poem here.) 

~~~~~~~~~~
The round up this week is at Paper Tigers.

Bits and Pieces of our Holy Week, Easter Sunday and the Octave

Holy Week

Full of cleaning and prepping. So good to simply take a week to get ready for the biggest feast of the year.

The Triduum 

Holy Thursday Mass together.  Lovely.   Long, Holy Week Masses are so much easier than they used to be.  When I became a Catholic mom, I wanted to focus only on the beauty,  holiness and sacredness of the Mass, but the reality always came down to this: who would need me, and in what way, during Mass? You know the feeling ... you don't want to dread the ninety minutes, or the incense, the intensity of the quiet ... but sometimes you do. Because you've got a two-year-old. Because 7:30 at night is a terrible time to try to combine a toddler with a respectful attitude. Because your husband is working late. Whatever it is.

But it gets easier. I'm in a different stage of life. Most of the time, Ramona is a dream at Mass. Last week, she was voluntarily praying decades of the Rosary before Mass began. Holy Week used to be hard in all the ways mentioned above. But it's not anymore.

Good Friday

A service that always, of course, moves me to tears. This year, as I watched the priest carry the cross forward, I thought, "This is what never changes. Jesus. What He did for us.  For me. He is the Person my faith is in, the Person my faith is all about. No matter how awful people can be to one another -- within the Church and without it -- no matter how much sin will always be rampant in the world, the constant is Jesus. He never allows the core, the essence, the actual teaching of His Church to veer from Truth, no matter how hard we humans try to mess things up. It's that Truth to which I cling. Jesus. His Truth. His Church. His Sacrifice. His Love.

Easter Vigil

It was beautiful, as always. The Exultet was exquisitely sung by one of our priests. But other than that,  I was strangely unmoved. Sometimes that happens. One year, I had been feeling strangely unmoved all through Lent but then at the Vigil, the floodgates opened and I couldn't contain my emotion, couldn't stopper the tears.  This year, I felt powerfully moved during Lent -- strongly supported by the Lord and strengthened by Him in surprising ways (and I don't mean just going without coffee....)  And yet, the Vigil did not result in tears.  Happiness, yes. Calm happiness.

And that, too, reminded me of the constant of Jesus. He is always there, no matter how I feel.  It simply isn't about my feelings, even when they're soaring out of control.  What a comfort that knowledge is.

Easter Sunday

An Easter egg hunt in the morning. Happy children. Dinner with friends -- delicious food, good beer and wine. Laughter. Love. Sweet sleep. Our Risen Lord. Glimpses of Heaven.

This week

A relatively normal week, as homeschool weeks go. The fun of the Octave of Easter, knowing every day is a huge feast.  Thinking, "Where are the tea bags?" and then remembering I can have coffee instead.  Listening to Atticus read Steinbeck to Anne and discuss it with her.  Ramona lost a tooth.  Betsy's been rehearsing lines for the play she's in.

Normal, everyday life within these great fifty days.

Normal, everyday faith.

Normal, everyday dismay at God's goodness.

Honest Ramona

Anne-with-an-e, to Ramona:  "Am I funny?"

Ramona: "Well, you're funny, but not funny to the point of hysterical."

Serving up an original bread poem ...

... at Jama Rattigan's Alphabet Soup today.  Jama is celebrating National Poetry Month in her inimitable style.

There are some bloggers who put me to shame.

All too often, I throw a post up at the last minute -- like a mother who, rather than lovingly planning a nutritious meal grabs a frozen pizza (oh, wait, I'm not like that mother -- I am that mother.)  Jama, on the other hand, plans her word-and-picture feasts (and I would love to head over to her house for dinner.)  She is an amazing hostess, a stunning cook, an enviable entertainer.  With a careful eye and a sharp sense of style, she preps and tends her creations and then wows us with a sumptuous feast of a post.

All she asked of me was that I write a poem for her April Poetry Potluck series, and that I include a recipe. I complied, submitting a poem about Atticus, bread, and marriage, along with the bread recipe. Jama took these raw ingredients and turned a dish into a banquet, as is her way.

My poem, Sustenance, is here.

And you can find all of the posts in Jama's 2010 Poetry Potluck series here.

New blog for a new season!

If you're reading this post on a reader, can I ask you to please click through and let me know what you think of the new blog layout and changes? 


Happy Easter!

Happy Spring!

Happy coffee consumption!

"Why do you seek the Living One among the dead?"

"He is not here ...

He is risen."

~~ Luke 24:5-6

Alleluia!

He is risen indeed!

Alleluia, alleluia!

Holy Saturday

Read more here, at Women for Faith and Family.

Good Friday

Read more about Good Friday here and here.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh,
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Oh,
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?

Were you there when they pierced him in the side?
Were you there when they pierced him in the side?
Oh,
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they pierced him in the side?

Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Oh,
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?

~~ traditional African American spiritual

Happy Anniversary, Fathers!

Today, Holy Thursday, we celebrate the institution of the Eucharist and the priesthood.

From John Paul the Great's Letter to Priests, Holy Thursday, 2004:

We were born from the Eucharist. If we can truly say that the whole Church lives from the Eucharist (“Ecclesia de Eucharistia vivit”), as I reaffirmed in my recent Encyclical, we can say the same thing about the ministerial priesthood: it is born, lives, works and bears fruit “de Eucharistia”(cf. Council of Trent, Sess. XXII, canon 2: DS 1752). “There can be no Eucharist without the priesthood, just as there can be no priesthood without the Eucharist."