Except, of course, when Ramona has dressed him in this:
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Post-Christmas Guilt. Or Not.
On Christmas day, as the dog blissfully gnawed and slobbered on a gargantuan rawhide bone, I walked into my bedroom and saw the cat cozily napping on my bed. I felt a little bad that we didn't get him a present. For about three seconds. Because then I remembered -- as I looked at him owning that bed -- that his whole life is a present.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Friday, December 23, 2011
Poetry Friday: One From Ramona
Happy Poetry Friday, and Merry Eve of Christmas Eve!
Here's a little gift from Ramona -- a poem she wrote the other day. She wanted to send something to Highlights Magazine, so she plopped down at the coffee table with pencil and paper and, minutes later, said, "Here, Mommy!"
Off it went to Highlights, and now it is winging its way to you.
Birds
by Ramona
Bluebirds with wings so bright,
you fill the world with light.
When you fly, I feel I can, too,
and soar up in the clouds with you.
And maybe even eat a cloud.
Just one.
That would be fun.
~~~~~~~~
Plenty of other writing going on around here lately, too. I've got a couple of projects going. Though Betsy is relieved to be finished with NaNoWriMo, she's at work on two new stories. And Anne-with-an-e is working on something (story? novel? She's not sure...) about a deadly virus (which is right up her biological alley.) On top of all that, though I've horribly neglected our Writing With the Kids blog, we are still doing the annual Christmas Fan Fiction Challenge. We'll be reading our compositions to each other tomorrow night, over dinner.
~~~~~~~~
The Poetry Friday roundup today is at Dori Reads.
Here's a little gift from Ramona -- a poem she wrote the other day. She wanted to send something to Highlights Magazine, so she plopped down at the coffee table with pencil and paper and, minutes later, said, "Here, Mommy!"
Off it went to Highlights, and now it is winging its way to you.
 |
| (photo thanks to stock.xchng) |
Birds
by Ramona
Bluebirds with wings so bright,
you fill the world with light.
When you fly, I feel I can, too,
and soar up in the clouds with you.
And maybe even eat a cloud.
Just one.
That would be fun.
~~~~~~~~
Plenty of other writing going on around here lately, too. I've got a couple of projects going. Though Betsy is relieved to be finished with NaNoWriMo, she's at work on two new stories. And Anne-with-an-e is working on something (story? novel? She's not sure...) about a deadly virus (which is right up her biological alley.) On top of all that, though I've horribly neglected our Writing With the Kids blog, we are still doing the annual Christmas Fan Fiction Challenge. We'll be reading our compositions to each other tomorrow night, over dinner.
~~~~~~~~
The Poetry Friday roundup today is at Dori Reads.
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
The People We Love Are God's Way of Saying We Are Not in Control
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| ImageChef.com |
For years now -- decades, really -- he's been scheduling certain Adventy things on, oh, about December 24th. No matter how much I planned ahead in order to have it be a low-stress day, he always had some last-minute shopping to do, or all of his gift wrapping, or ... you get the picture.
And so, each and every Christmas I'm reminded that I'm not really in control of my whole world. (Ummm, well, I actually get that reminder far more often than once a year, but for now we'll stick with the Christmas theme.)
Kids are great for reinforcing this cheery holiday message, too. They can turn everything into a teachable moment, like the year my daughter started throwing up just as our Christmas guests arrived.
The other day, I was working out and watching an old Thirtysomething. Ellyn, Hope's Friend Who Had Commitment Issues, was lamenting her confused life and envying Hope's perfect one. Hope vented back that life was crazy, that she had no idea what she was doing as a parent, her in-laws were nuts, the mortgage was scary, the house was falling apart, and nothing was ever really easy.
"Hope," said Ellyn, clearly taken aback by the shipwreck of Hope's life, "how can you live like that?"
"Lynnie," said Hope, also taken aback that Ellyn didn't get it, "that's love."
Love makes us change our schedules and our plans. Love interrupts long-term goals, dreams, and visions. Love wraps presents at the last minute, throws up as a car pulls into your driveway, turns you into a woman you never thought you'd be and humbles us. Love reminds us that we are not in control.
Love came to us two-thousand years ago, and He comes to us still. When He came to me, I lost all semblance of control over my life. I said yes to things I never thought I'd do, and embraced ideas I used to think were crazy.
"Karen," you might ask, "how can you live like that?"
"How can I not?" I'd reply in disbelief, "that's Love."
Monday, December 19, 2011
Everything That Rises Must Converge
It's funny how things come together.
Yesterday, we were running late for Mass, which doesn't actually happen often, though that's not really due to any particular virtue on my part. It's just that I sort of have Sunday morning down to a science. I can tell you exactly how long it takes a teenage girl to wash her hair, the number of minutes required for a nine-year-old to read the comics, the way a husband can get ready so quickly that his grooming time needn't even be factored in.
But, occasionally, even though everyone is awake on schedule and the shower routine is cycling nicely, something happens to upset the science.
Yesterday we all seemed to be teetering on a precipice. Ramona was in a bad mood. Maybe I would have been, too, if I were nine years old, growing at an alarming rate, shooting out of all my clothes, especially my favorite dresses. My mood followed suit and between our battling sensibilities, it took awhile to figure out something Ramona could wear to Mass. Soon we were out the door, but later than usual, and on the way to Mass we got held up at a train crossing.
Minutes ticked by. Two. Three. Five.
"This," I announced to my daughters, "is why you never judge anyone for walking into Mass late. You never know why someone is late, and in the end, it's none of our business."
We were indeed late. We walked into the church during the first hymn, fumbled around to find a seat, and that's the way our day started.
Short fuses continued into the afternoon. Shots were fired at the slightest provocation. Moods shifted from So-So to Meh to GETAWAYFROMMENOW. Was it the fact that within the last week, at various times, we'd all gotten to confession? Why is a clean soul so susceptible to attack? One would think or hope it might be the opposite, that a soul after cleansing is that much stronger, full of grace. And yet, in my experience, the days just after a confession feel like a minefield.
Two things, though, yesterday that I loved about our pastor:
One was that his homily focused on who we are. Not what we do, how we make our living, or the sum of our sins. In the end, we are each, he stressed, beloved sons and daughters of God. That is our identity. And that is a stupendously simple and spot on reminder in this season of Advent. Everything should flow from that.
Second, his note in the bulletin was lovely, too. He said that he finds it both amusing and a relief to think about how much we all share the same struggles. (Yes and yes.) He used the example of envying how well-behaved someone else's children are at Mass, or how other people seem to have everything figured out and are perpetually serene. I've been on both sides of this -- feeling like the only horrid mother who just had a fight with her daughter over Mass clothing (a fight about clothes, for heaven's sake!? Before I head off to receive the Lord's Body?) and being on the other end, having someone think I have it All-Together-All-The-Time (which I most certainly, clearly-most-sincerely do not.)
We are not, as Father reminded us, alone.
In my own words, I'm not special enough to be the only one with my problems.
And so, as I move through this final week of Advent, I am contemplating the ways in which we, beloved sons and daughters of God all, will keep making our mistakes, but we can -- we must -- keep rising, striving, moving upward together.
Yesterday, we were running late for Mass, which doesn't actually happen often, though that's not really due to any particular virtue on my part. It's just that I sort of have Sunday morning down to a science. I can tell you exactly how long it takes a teenage girl to wash her hair, the number of minutes required for a nine-year-old to read the comics, the way a husband can get ready so quickly that his grooming time needn't even be factored in.
But, occasionally, even though everyone is awake on schedule and the shower routine is cycling nicely, something happens to upset the science.
Yesterday we all seemed to be teetering on a precipice. Ramona was in a bad mood. Maybe I would have been, too, if I were nine years old, growing at an alarming rate, shooting out of all my clothes, especially my favorite dresses. My mood followed suit and between our battling sensibilities, it took awhile to figure out something Ramona could wear to Mass. Soon we were out the door, but later than usual, and on the way to Mass we got held up at a train crossing.
Minutes ticked by. Two. Three. Five.
"This," I announced to my daughters, "is why you never judge anyone for walking into Mass late. You never know why someone is late, and in the end, it's none of our business."
We were indeed late. We walked into the church during the first hymn, fumbled around to find a seat, and that's the way our day started.
Short fuses continued into the afternoon. Shots were fired at the slightest provocation. Moods shifted from So-So to Meh to GETAWAYFROMMENOW. Was it the fact that within the last week, at various times, we'd all gotten to confession? Why is a clean soul so susceptible to attack? One would think or hope it might be the opposite, that a soul after cleansing is that much stronger, full of grace. And yet, in my experience, the days just after a confession feel like a minefield.
Two things, though, yesterday that I loved about our pastor:
One was that his homily focused on who we are. Not what we do, how we make our living, or the sum of our sins. In the end, we are each, he stressed, beloved sons and daughters of God. That is our identity. And that is a stupendously simple and spot on reminder in this season of Advent. Everything should flow from that.
Second, his note in the bulletin was lovely, too. He said that he finds it both amusing and a relief to think about how much we all share the same struggles. (Yes and yes.) He used the example of envying how well-behaved someone else's children are at Mass, or how other people seem to have everything figured out and are perpetually serene. I've been on both sides of this -- feeling like the only horrid mother who just had a fight with her daughter over Mass clothing (a fight about clothes, for heaven's sake!? Before I head off to receive the Lord's Body?) and being on the other end, having someone think I have it All-Together-All-The-Time (which I most certainly, clearly-most-sincerely do not.)
We are not, as Father reminded us, alone.
In my own words, I'm not special enough to be the only one with my problems.
And so, as I move through this final week of Advent, I am contemplating the ways in which we, beloved sons and daughters of God all, will keep making our mistakes, but we can -- we must -- keep rising, striving, moving upward together.
"Be kind -- everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."
Sunday, December 18, 2011
From the Inbox
Remember Jen Fulwiler's "Our Father" series? (I had "Name.") Jen kindly rounded up links to all the posts in the series. You can find them here, at Conversion Diary.
~~~~~~~~~~
Wonderful author of wonderful Weightless, Kate Wicker, will be the keynote speaker at the Behold Conference, March 10, 2012, in Peoria, IL. Not sure yet if I can make it, but I'm hoping to possibly swing it. Are you going?
~~~~~~~~~~
I mentioned Good Counsel Homes last year -- they now have a new Facebook page -- take a look to find out more about all the good work they do to help homeless and single pregnant women and their children. Their website is here. They do beautiful work and also offer post-abortion counseling.
~~~~~~~~~~
Homeschool Connections has a special offer right now. Maureen Wittman says:
~~~~~~~~~~
Regina Doman's fairy tale novels are on Kindle -- go here for details.
Nancy Brown's A Study Guide for G.K. Chesterton's St. Francis of Assisi is on Kindle, too.
~~~~~~~~~~
Speaking of Kindle, did you know that my book, Through the Year With Mary is available on Kindle now, too?
~~~~~~~~~~
Wonderful author of wonderful Weightless, Kate Wicker, will be the keynote speaker at the Behold Conference, March 10, 2012, in Peoria, IL. Not sure yet if I can make it, but I'm hoping to possibly swing it. Are you going?
~~~~~~~~~~
I mentioned Good Counsel Homes last year -- they now have a new Facebook page -- take a look to find out more about all the good work they do to help homeless and single pregnant women and their children. Their website is here. They do beautiful work and also offer post-abortion counseling.
~~~~~~~~~~
Homeschool Connections has a special offer right now. Maureen Wittman says:
Find out more about the history class and the special offer here.
... we offer a "Subscription Service" for recorded classes. It's only $1 to try it out for 7 days and then it's just $30 a month after that. There's no long term commitment -- parents keep it as long or as little as they need it. Because our live classes are converted to the Subscription Service once they're completed, it's getting to be a better and better deal every day. We're up to 70+ courses!
The big news is that we're offering a yearly rate now. For only $330 you can get a full year of unlimited recorded classes ...
However, it's hard for people to make that kind of commitment without really knowing what they're getting into. So, we're offering one of our recorded courses completely free from now until December 30, 2012 -- Mr. Campbell's Modern American History course.
~~~~~~~~~~
Regina Doman's fairy tale novels are on Kindle -- go here for details.
Nancy Brown's A Study Guide for G.K. Chesterton's St. Francis of Assisi is on Kindle, too.
~~~~~~~~~~
Speaking of Kindle, did you know that my book, Through the Year With Mary is available on Kindle now, too?
Friday, December 16, 2011
Poetry Friday: Thomas Merton
Now is the time for new year resolutions. Advent ~~ pregnant with hope and promise, anticipation, and with the fear and trembling of working out our salvation while God is at work in us ~~ is precisely the right time to assess our spiritual lives. The liturgical calendar is a wise and gentle gift.
"Time falls like manna at the corners of the wintry earth," Fr. Merton says.
Time.
Time to slow down.
Time to savor what's been given us. Gifts. Crosses.
Time to pray about what is to come.
Time to pray about the way He came to us as a baby, the way He will come again in glory.
Time.
When we mentally connect "Time" and "Advent" we so often think, "There's not enough! There's no time! There's never enough time!"
Oh, but there is. Stop. Listen. Be still for awhile.
Today, a sublime poem from Merton:
Advent
by Thomas Merton
Charm with your stainlessness these winter nights,
Skies, and be perfect! Fly, vivider in the fiery dark, you quiet meteors,
And disappear.
You moon, be slow to go down,
This is your full!
The four white roads make off in silence
Towards the four parts of the starry universe.
Time falls like manna at the corners of the wintry earth.
We have become more humble than the rocks,
More wakeful than the patient hills.
(Read the whole poem here.)
Your Book Aunt has the round up today.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
School Notes
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| from ImageChef.com |
Ramona has been watching old clips of Zoom, at PBSKids.org and on YouTube. It's science, it's history, it's drama, it's cooking, it's art.
It's exhausting.
Yesterday, it occurred to me that I remembered feeling the slightest bit of relief when my older girls outgrew Zoom. I just couldn't keep up with it: "Let's make batteries from potatoes while we're creating three-layered popsicles while we're talking in Ubbi-Dubbi and mixing our own paints from materials found in our backyard! And then let's put on a show about all that stuff, and volunteer in our community to teach others how to put on the same show using only the power generated from potatoes!"
(Anne-with-an-e, by the way, can still speak fluent Ubbi-Dubbi. That amazes and frightens me.)
So. There seems to be a new project daily, not to mention the fact that I can't get "C'mon and Zoom, c'mon and Zoom, c'mon and Zoom, c'mon and Zoom and zoom, zoom, zooma, Zoom!" out of my head.
Throw in lots of great Advent reading, and so far it's been a December to remember.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Pope Quotes Obscure Blogger From Nebraska
Perhaps "quote" is too strong a word. Or, perhaps "quote" is, in fact, a lie.
However, it is true that Pope Benedict XVI, primarily known for being awesome, recently paraphrased blogging mom Karen Edmisten (albeit totally unbeknownst to him) regarding her "No-Panic Advent" series. Pope Awesome recently urged Christians worldwide to forget about the commercialism of the season and to focus on Jesus.
Edmisten concurs, and is only too glad to give the Holy Father credit for the idea.
"Oh, sure," she was quoted as saying when we recently caught up with her as she shirked Christmas shopping duties and simply ordered a few things online, "it's true that I'm actually the one who wrote the No-Panic Advent series, but I'm happy to credit the Pope with a better tag line and, overall, a better writing style. His whole take on it -- y'know, saying that true joy is 'born from the encounter with the living person of Jesus' -- is a bit more timeless and eloquent than my 'chill out, people' stuff. But, hey, we're both coming from the same place, right? I'm sure he'd agree, cuz he's awesome that way."
Edmisten concluded the interview saying she had to go, as she planned to spend the rest of the day not baking cookies. She also hoped to spend a little time convincing relatives that gift cards are not impersonal and evangelizing her neighbors regarding hot button issues such as how a lack of outdoor lighting does not have a direct correlation to one's faith life.
Read the whole (true) story here.
However, it is true that Pope Benedict XVI, primarily known for being awesome, recently paraphrased blogging mom Karen Edmisten (albeit totally unbeknownst to him) regarding her "No-Panic Advent" series. Pope Awesome recently urged Christians worldwide to forget about the commercialism of the season and to focus on Jesus.
Edmisten concurs, and is only too glad to give the Holy Father credit for the idea.
"Oh, sure," she was quoted as saying when we recently caught up with her as she shirked Christmas shopping duties and simply ordered a few things online, "it's true that I'm actually the one who wrote the No-Panic Advent series, but I'm happy to credit the Pope with a better tag line and, overall, a better writing style. His whole take on it -- y'know, saying that true joy is 'born from the encounter with the living person of Jesus' -- is a bit more timeless and eloquent than my 'chill out, people' stuff. But, hey, we're both coming from the same place, right? I'm sure he'd agree, cuz he's awesome that way."
Edmisten concluded the interview saying she had to go, as she planned to spend the rest of the day not baking cookies. She also hoped to spend a little time convincing relatives that gift cards are not impersonal and evangelizing her neighbors regarding hot button issues such as how a lack of outdoor lighting does not have a direct correlation to one's faith life.
Pope says focus on Jesus, not pre-Christmas distractions
By David Kerr
Vatican City, Dec 11, 2011 / 01:30 pm (CNA/EWTN News).
- Pope Benedict XVI reminded Christians not to be dazzled by the shopping lights of the Advent season but to keep focused on the coming on Jesus Christ, the “true light of the world.” Christians should keep their eyes fixed on Christ so that “if, in fact, we persevere‘vigilant in prayer and rejoicing in praise,’ our eyes will be able to recognize in him the true light of the world that comes to enlighten our darkness.”...
Read the whole (true) story here.
Friday, December 09, 2011
Life and My Kitchen Counter
(An explanation, of sorts, for the lack of any real blogging lately, including my neglect of Poetry Friday):
"Why is life always such a mess?" I said just a few minutes ago. "And my kitchen counter? Why are life and my kitchen counter always so messy?"
"You should use that as a title for your memoirs: Life and My Kitchen Counter," said Anne-with-an-e.
I love that girl.
Recent messiness is nothing of import -- more busy-messy than bad-messy, scary-messy, or tragic-messy. Not really messy, in the existential sense. Just messy-busy-messy. But, as long as I'm here, I'll take a moment to catch up with you on a few things, including a couple of recent Ramona Moments:
* You know Ramona's behind it when you can't find your wine charms. (She's been wearing them as earrings.)
* You know Ramona should have been born into a family more like the Magical Mrs. M's when this happens: Ramona and I recently entered Hobby Lobby and she stopped, held her hands out as if to become one with the store, breathed in the artsy, craftsy, potpourri-laden air and pronounced, "Ah. Yes. These ... these are my people."
What will I do with her?
* Betsy apparently inherited a bit of her father's Marine Corps essence. She, Anne and two of their friends are writers/directors/set designing-builders for the parish youth choir musical. The choir director recently commented that Betsy does her military heritage proud, and one of the little girls in the cast was heard to whisper breathlessly to a friend, "Miss Betsy is scary!" during a rehearsal. I went to observe yesterday, though, and she must be exerting the right combination of authority and affection for her charges -- one of the kids ran to her and delivered a sweet, spontaneous hug before she left. So cute.
Finally, the much-neglected Poetry Friday:
I got nothin', but there's a great round up happening over at Robyn Hood Black's place.
"Why is life always such a mess?" I said just a few minutes ago. "And my kitchen counter? Why are life and my kitchen counter always so messy?"
"You should use that as a title for your memoirs: Life and My Kitchen Counter," said Anne-with-an-e.
I love that girl.
Recent messiness is nothing of import -- more busy-messy than bad-messy, scary-messy, or tragic-messy. Not really messy, in the existential sense. Just messy-busy-messy. But, as long as I'm here, I'll take a moment to catch up with you on a few things, including a couple of recent Ramona Moments:
* You know Ramona's behind it when you can't find your wine charms. (She's been wearing them as earrings.)
* You know Ramona should have been born into a family more like the Magical Mrs. M's when this happens: Ramona and I recently entered Hobby Lobby and she stopped, held her hands out as if to become one with the store, breathed in the artsy, craftsy, potpourri-laden air and pronounced, "Ah. Yes. These ... these are my people."
What will I do with her?
* Betsy apparently inherited a bit of her father's Marine Corps essence. She, Anne and two of their friends are writers/directors/set designing-builders for the parish youth choir musical. The choir director recently commented that Betsy does her military heritage proud, and one of the little girls in the cast was heard to whisper breathlessly to a friend, "Miss Betsy is scary!" during a rehearsal. I went to observe yesterday, though, and she must be exerting the right combination of authority and affection for her charges -- one of the kids ran to her and delivered a sweet, spontaneous hug before she left. So cute.
Finally, the much-neglected Poetry Friday:
I got nothin', but there's a great round up happening over at Robyn Hood Black's place.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of Mary
"Because He was God, he could give his mother gifts not only before he was born of her, but before she was born herself. This is the meaning of the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception."
~~ F. J. Sheed
"In her, the destinies of the world were to be reversed, and the serpent’s head bruised. In her was bestowed the greatest honor ever put upon any individual of our fallen race. God was taking upon Him her flesh, and humbling Himself to be called her offspring – such is the deep mystery!"
~~St. John Henry Cardinal Newman
In the midst of mystery, Lord, you give me something real and solid -- a mother to cling to.
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
Happy Feast of St. Nicholas!
So many thoughts, and so little time!
St. Nicholas visited, bringing socks and Christmas ornaments and chocolate and -- because he's a thoroughly modern saint -- movies and music.
Hope to be back later today to blog a little more about one of my favorite feast days.
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Ramona's Gingerbread Version of the Ditto House
Yesterday, Ramona decorated a graham cracker duo. She came up with this design:
If you haven't seen her inspiration for it, it was this:
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| See this link for original photo |
Thought I was gonna die.
Despite all my grousing, we of course had a fun afternoon with our homeschooling friends, and the result was this beautiful gingerbread-and-graham-cracker-village:
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| Photo thanks to Johnna, because I forgot my camera again. |
Next year: no complaining. I promise. When my kids say, "Building gingerbread houses is great!" I'll just say, "Ditto."
Thursday, December 01, 2011
Did I Really Say, "I Can't Find My Candy Cane Cookie Cutter!"?
There was a time in my life when, had you even hinted I'd one day own a candy cane cookie cutter, I would have snapped, "Is your brain made of candy canes? This is me."
But me is a mom, and moms metamorphose into all manner of things they pledged they'd never be. Like bakers of gingerbread for homemade houses.
Two years ago, I made homemade gingerbread houses for the first time ever in my entirely long life. (I think I have Magical Mrs. M. to thank for this new tradition though I use the concept of "thanks" loosely.) I got Gingerbread Back, remember? That year, I used paper templates like these and cut the pieces out by hand, thereby mangling them upon transfer to the cookie sheet until they mutated into something like this:
(Photo of the Krzywy Domek, thanks to Wikipedia.)
Moving on to 2011: I can honestly say this is actually getting easy ... or, um, -er, anyway. Easier. Time consuming, yes, but no longer excruciating. (I'm sorry, beloved daughters-o-mine, it's true -- the first year was excruciating. Excruciating but fun? Yeah, that works.)
Last week we baked two houses and froze the pieces, and this week we baked one more, along with a couple of pans of gingerbread men (but no candy canes ... I cannot find my candy cane cookie cutter. There. I said it again.)
Ramona originally agreed to to do a graham cracker house, along with several of the other younger kids in our homeschool group. But then she asked if she could do a gingerbread church to add to our gingerbread village, and how could I say no to a church? It seemed like something I'd have to go to confession for. ("So then, Father, I told her no to the church, and she started to cry ... ")
So we baked a church. And more gingerbread men. And a noticeable lack of gingerbread candy canes. (But if anyone mutters so much as a word I'm going to resign my post.)
Other helpful links I should mention:
Here's a great photo-filled how-to for constructing graham cracker houses. (Scroll down for photos of completed projects ... I love the four-year-old's house. Perfectly cute and gloppy.)
Royal icing (aka sweet cement) recipe.
Alton Brown (nothing to do with gingerbread houses, just long-standing
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