Promise

Ah, this is a lovely post. It is about the end. Fearing the future without the promise of a new baby of your own. About the marching on of time, and passing of eras, and the diminishing of our own youth and promise. But that life will go on, with new promises.

I already went through this once. It is documented with this post, entitled, "Living Life with and Open Hand":

I don't know if it was the icon, the fact that many people I know are pregnant, or the fact that I am forty and haven't had a baby in 3 years, but the phrase "open to life" has been bouncing around in my head with increasing trajectory for weeks.

In my history as a mother, not one other question has been asked of me with more frequency and with sincere curiosity than, "How many kids do you think you'll have?"

After about 5 years and 4 children, I landed on an all purpose answer that got my point across, wasn't hostile, and usually ended the line of questioning quickly. The answer?

"I don't know, because my husband and I are open to life."

Interestingly, no one asked me, "What does 'open to life' mean?', which was fortunate, because I am not entirely certain I knew what it meant. At the time it meant being willing to hear the "yes" to new children, even if it was challenging, or I was afraid, or I was feeling overwhelmed.

Eventually, I had to work through the idea of using Natural Family Planning, and if I was still "open to life" at that time. Could I still hear the "Yes" to creation that God was whispering to me? Turns out I could, as we had baby number 6 during that time, and when one leaves a window of opportunity open for God, and He wants something, He uses that window.

Now that I have seven children, and I am nearly 41 years old, being open to life is beginning to mean something else entirely. Something I never imagined. When people ask me now if I think I "am done", I still use the same answer, but a sinking feeling hits me at the same time and whispers, "I might be done." Now, being open to life means being open to hearing "No" to creation. It means not assuming there will always be a baby in our home, and yet, still keeping the ear ready to hear the "yes", in case that should be in God's plan.

I thought it was very challenging to keep my heart open to all the "yeses" God asked of me. I am finding keeping my heart open to the "nos" to be even more difficult. Or should I say, to the "maybes". I can say I do not look forward to 16 weeks of severe nausea, or the inevitable weight gain, or even the long, sleepless nights of the newborn phase. And yet, the thought of never having another one or "our" babies here, no more new combinations of my husband and I to marvel over and love, well, that makes my heart ache.

So now, open to life doesn't mean just being open to a new baby, it means being open to God being finished with the co-creation in our marriage. It means being willing to accept my life in thanks and joy regardless of what God's plans are for me. It means living my life with an open hand, and open heart, and not always having a vision for what my future will bring, and it means believing that God already is there, in my future, giving my all the blessings I need, no matter what they are.

Then again, later with this post, "Turning Point":

Well, it's official. I no longer have any "babies" in my house. My youngest, my baby, turned 4 this morning at 2:35am, and now she is a little girl, not a toddler, and definitely not a baby. And what a little girl she is. Confident, loving, bossy, vivacious and full of energy. Creative, funny, and very clear on what she wants.

She, of course, is thrilled to be four years old. It's about time, she says. But oh, my, as I sit here, watching the garbage truck coming to haul away the toddler bed we put at the curb this weekend, my heart is aching. No more cribs, no toddler beds. No little things. No high chairs, no potty chairs. There are no children in this house that use little things any more. She has a big bed (I'll download photos of the big bed later, along with others from her big day). She is an independent pottier. She dressed herself, and buckles herself in her car seat.

I remember longing for the day that I could say, "Everyone get in the car", and they did. When I could say, "Get on your shoes and coats", and they did. And that day is here. And I am more sad that I could have imagined.

I hate feeling this morose on a joyous birthday. I can't help it though. It's all going so quickly, and so much of my time is spent doing needed activities that distract me and exhaust me, and make my time with my family less in quantity, and quality. I mourn all the times I said "no" to my children when they asked me to read a book, because I had laundry to do, or dinner to cook, or the house to pick up, or weeds to pull. And yet, if I didn't do these things, we would be living in a hovel. I know I show my family love by caring for them and our home. It's just that the memories of all the laundry and shopping I have done do not warm my heart nearly as much as the memories of being with my babies.

I can still remember my oldest son, at three years old, sitting on my lap, and giving my spontaneous hugs, his little arms wrapping all the way around my neck, his cheek right next to mine. He still gives my hugs, but he is much taller than me now, and he stoops down to hug me, and he is careful with his hugs. The exuberant tight hugs are long gone with him. And my next daughter is 13, and she now gives delicate little hugs. Her sweet silly ways are settling down into more mature and adult behaviors. But I sure remember her 3 year old self, silly, uninhibited and so very gleeful. I won't go on through the list of all seven children and the things I remember about them, as that could get pretty dull to a non-parent, but I will share one common memory of all of them.

With the first baby I was completely caught off guard, and then with each successive baby I eagerly anticipated this moment. It usually happened at between two and three months old. I would be up in the wee hours of the morning, nursing the hungry baby. I usually nursed the babies in bed, but occasionally I would get up and sit in a chair while I nursed them. I wear glasses, with a pretty strong corrections, and would not wear my glasses while night nursing. So, there I am, sleepy, in dim light, everything a little fuzzy without my glasses, but looking at my baby, contentedly nursing away. Then the baby's eyes would open, and meet mine, and a look of delight would cross the baby's face, and a smile, almost involuntary, would erupt, a smile so big that milk would drip out of the mouth. That look would melt me and delight me, and literally feed my soul.

That look. That is the thing that I miss in my big children. They have all gone and grown up, and rightly so, but I am the same mom here. Eagerly looking into their faces, and willing them to know how much I love them. It is good, and right that the bigger kids spend more time looking away now. I know this. And I still have plenty of hugs and kisses around here, but it is slipping away. It is the greatest paradox of my life; watching these children grow up, and pull away, and knowing that by doing so, I am doing my job well. And it is breaking my heart.

And now I know I will have to go through that sadness all over again, and I dread it. However, the time is not now. Now, I still have this little promise!

Wow

I saw this at Real Learning (shared items), and am so very glad I did. It seems sometimes our greatest disappointments can lead to great acts of love.

Please, go check this out.

Moments of Grace

I have been bent low by the spirit of discouragement lately.

So many needs to be met, and only little ole me to meet them (or so it seems to me many an exhausting day). So many valuable relationships in my life, and they all need tender, loving care.

My eldest, my 16 year old son, is a bit of a mystery to me. Mystery in no way connotes a negative reality. The best part of my existance is wrapped in Mystery, so this in and of itself is not discouraging. But miscommunication between a middle-aged mother and her adolescent son can be exhausting. I struggle to decide what part of his attitude to absorb, what part to ignore, what part to respond to. Whether he knows it or not, I know he still needs mothering, but in a way I am entirely unfamiliar with at this point in my mothering career. So I am feeling my way through this, like a person walking down an unfamiliar hallway in the middle of the night, enveloped in darkness, feeling for the walls, curling the toes, hoping not to walk into a wall or a chair, or into the wrong room.

Conflicts arise, reprimands are given, defensiveness rears its ugly head. Where do I find the gaze I remember in his eyes, the look of trust, of connection?

I try not to notice him too much at church. He feels the weight of my scrutiny, I know, so I try to give him his privacy. I hope he is engaged, I hope the Liturgy still speaks to him, the Holy Mysteries still sustain him, body and soul together. I pray for him, for me, for my husband, that we can navigate these waters without any permanent injuries to our relationships.

I get distracted by a fussy baby, go downstairs to feed and change her, and with a sigh, return to the Liturgy, join in singing many "Lord have mercys". Then it is time for the "Our Father". We sing it together as a faith community. I am praying for our Daily Bread.

I notice a deep, harmonizing voice behind me, as I lean against the wall, standing with my squirmy wee one. As we get to the line, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us", the harmonizing voice is blending ever so nicely with my own. It is soothing, soft, true. Without really thinking, I glance over my shoulder to see who I am praying with, to see who it is that it assisting me in elevating my prayer to Our Father.

It is my son. He is the harmonizing, blending voice, the soothing sound I had been relishing. We met there, at Divine Liturgy, praying in unison, praying for mercy and forgiveness. I am certain he has no idea what that shared prayer meant to me today, but Our Father did.

And so we go on, loving, building, moving.

And so very grateful for moments of grace, encouragement and the timeless communication of praying with those that we love, to The One Who Loves.

The saga continues.

Okay, so, things have changed once again around here. My oldest son, the one that went to boarding school last year, tried home school/community college last semester and hated it. The schedule was erratic and left him with far too much unscheduled time. His time management skills just weren't developed enough for that system to work for him.

So now, he is at the local Catholic High School. We are on week two.

I am happy to have some help with his education. The transfer process was simple, respectful, and gave me some peace about this decision.

But.

Last night I see he has been assigned "Catcher in the Rye" for his honors English class.

Hmmmm.

Not what I would have chosen for him to read.

After thought and discussion with my husband, we decided to guide his learning about this book and find out more what direction his teacher at school is taking it. We have an already planned meeting with his teachers in a couple of weeks, so we can share our views on Literature and Great/Good Books and learn about his teacher's objectives.

There is no easy way to educate your children. It is like childbirth. Home schooling to me is like giving birth without an epidural. Intensely painful, but rewarding. Sending kids to a brick and mortar school is like birth with an epidural. Less intensely painful, but a terrific accomplishment none-the-less. With an epidural, birth does not become painless, easy, or non-complicated. There is no way to give birth without experiencing pain, sacrifice, and suffering. The same goes for educating your children. I may not have to interact with every moment of my son's education now, but it is still going to require work from me, interaction with me, and probably some suffering from me.

So, any opinions on "Catcher in the Rye"? Words of wisdom? Salvageable study points so this book isn't just a waste of time for him?

Hope

I couldn't sleep a wink last night. Partly because I stayed up late to watch a movie alone. I had to stay up til 1:00 am to get the house to myself. Crazy.

So, I watched a movie, tried to go to sleep afterward, and all that happened was my brain began to churn and churn, and my heart rate picked up, and I was as awake as I wish I could be during the day!

There is nothing quite so comforting as the sunrise after a sleepless, worried night. It does bring hope, relief, clarity.

One of the lovely parts about winter here is the trees are bare, and I get to see the sunrise and sunsets. This morning the sunrise was like medicine to me, and I suspect the sunset will be right about time for me to go to bed!

I have seen people settling on a word for this new year. When I first contemplated doing this for myself, the word was not really fit to print in this family friendly blog. So, I thought better of the entire thing. Then I kept seeing this idea, and I thought for certain "Fortitude" would be my word. But, no, maybe "Patience". No, "Trust". Oh crikey, forget it.

Now, today, the word presented itself. Hope.

And so I will.

Is it too late for Christmas pictures?

St. Nicholas
One of my newest St. Nicholas
Get a load of her hair! We call her fuzzy baby.



Part of my St. Nicholas collection.
Baby's Christmas Dress
Our Christmas Centerpiece, with a 3 Kings addition (don't you love the vintage, homemade out of beer bottles, 3 King?)
More St. Nicholas
Merry Christmas!
A Little Vignette

Progress

I am still working on purging. And feeling it. My heart is just aching. But I am determined to keep at it, and let myself feel the sadness, hoping that it will give away to a new hope for a more detached, ordered future.

By detached, I mean clear on what I attach myself to. Not stuff, but people. Not papers but ideals. Not food, but sustenance. I feel as if something is working its way out of me, and it is not comfortable.

By more ordered, I mean ordering my affections, attentions and aspirations properly, in the right order, and with the right weight of my emotions and will. This is no small job, and certainly not one in which I can just will myself to succeed.

So, petty as it sounds, as so many of my fellow humans are suffering so greatly, I must embrace the cross. I want to dodge the cross, hide from it, bury it. But no, the true answer is embrace it, and then hope live in truth and freedom.

Remember that open hand I keep talking about? I feel mine closing, trying to clench, to cling. My prayer today will be to keep my hand open, so God can take out the excess, and that He will save me from my fear of the cross.

SPAM

I have enabled word verification because I have been getting copious amounts of spam as of late. Sorry about that.

Stuff

I still have way too much stuff. I am working on it, but while watching an episode of "Hoarders" I did have a bit of an epiphany. "If you get rid of this, what dream will die for you?" Oh yes, that is the question. I don't need to sort my stuff, I need to sort my dreams. Oh, now that makes sense.

One of the hardest things is my children's things. Their little clothes and shoes and papers and toys. When I get rid of them, it seems as if I am getting rid of the younger child they used to be. But I can't (and don't) save it all. I just realized I have to go ahead, feel sad, and go on. I try, at times to avoid the sadness by keeping the stuff. Unhealthy. I also realized something ~ I desperately hate that it is a possibility in this life that one of my children may die. It is possible. It happens to families. And today I realized I save things JUST IN CASE one of them dies, I am so afraid I won't have saved enough of them to have something left. Or maybe it is the realization that they are all going to leave some day. They are going to grow up, and the children will be gone. If I don't have some part of them as children, it will be as if it never happened.

Oh my. I guess I just have to get comfortable with the ache that is there when I realize how quickly they are all going away. Just feel it.

And I need to let some dreams go, so I can actually work towards achieving others. With too much "stuff" to manage, I have a challenging time getting anything but basic daily work finished. I must sort, purge and organize, prioritize, my dreams.

A home school tale

Yesterday, after our home school part of the day was over, I noticed my middle kids (11,9,7,5) walking outside, snow clothes on, full back-packs on over their coats. Around the circle they went, and then back in the mud-room.

"What are you guys doing?" I asked.

"We're pretending to walk to school."

Funny thing, we live on a circle that has hills, so now they can tell their kids someday that when THEY were little, they had to walk to school, in the snow, up hill both ways!

Just when I think I'll have time to blog...

I find myself googling "Who put a dead fish in my clothes washer" and finding the perfect and helpful link here, which led me here.Tell me, what good is doing laundry if it all smells like dead fish when it is clean? Tell me.

2009; it was a very good year.

Okay, here is a year in review. I didn't link any of these posts, just excerpted. December's is new stuff, because I have hardly posted at all in December. What a great year! What a challenging year! What a disorienting year! Anyway, this is a little baby heavy, and I can see that next year will be more "normal". This was an extraordinary year, to be certain!

January '09

I find myself leaning into the season I am in, rather that fighting against it. It seems as if part of living with an open hand means accepting what is real, what is put in my hand and what is taken out, and by doing so, experiencing the blessings of all the seasons of life. 1/14

When the baby moves, I just can not believe how satisfying a feeling it is. I know I will miss it when the baby is born. I am so loving being pregnant. 1/23

Being content is a gift. Lord knows I can not make myself content, although I do spend much time trying. I thank God this morning that He allowed me, in His wisdom, to begin my day with a deep, cozy contentment; He just GAVE it to me today. 1/28

February '09

During Liturgy, I get chills every time we are at the Consecration, "This is my body". I feel so connected to Christ right now, having my body being given to assist in creation. Birth is coming, the sacrifice that will be given to bring my baby into new life. I know how much I love my new baby, and therefore can rest so completely in the love that Christ has for me, given His sacrifice of love to bring ME to new life. It is all so amazingly, mystically beautiful! 2/6


Offering my body, and my blood, my sleep and my comfort for the good of the other. Letting Love conquer fear, and accepting both the blessings and sacrifices offered me by being open to new life. Relinquishing my plans and my control for the reality that, what will happen will happen, and I can not be in charge here. I have given birth many times before, twice before during Lent. There is something quite spiritually rich about joining in the Lenten Offerings with birth giving. A true gift for me to be allowed to do so. 2/24

March '09

Six weeks after I had my first baby, we got a dog. A puppy. A little Sheltie puppy, very timid and very sweet, very beautiful. We named her Sophie, which was the name we were going to use had the first baby been a girl. This wasn't even a year after my husband and I got married. For 15 and a half years, this dog has been part of our family...She followed me around everywhere, and if I was out of the house for a few days, she wouldn't eat until I got back. No doubt I will never be the recipient of such devotion for the rest of my days...So now we get used to the house being a little less full, for a while, until our new baby girl comes home, and new life brings its joy again. We all know that it was a good decision, to have our Sophie put to rest, after a long and faithful life with us. But we miss her. She was a part of us all along. 3/11

I ardently hope my placenta is retired by next week. Ardently. 3/13

I never thought I would get to test the theory that childbirth is better than a root canal. I would have been content to leave it an irrelevant saying. 3/13


3/15

3/17

April '09

My eldest two children are her Godparents!


Melanie only gained 3 oz this week. She is still 12 oz below her birth weight, and is 4 weeks old. She still has a lazy suck and poor latch, and we both have thrush. I am sore and tired, and tied to either her while nursing, or the breast pump when she is finished. Someone remind me how glad I will be that I persevered in nursing. That this is really a good thing for her, that she will chub up, that this really isn't that big of a deal. Thank you. I feel much better now =). 4/15

I found a fabulous pram style stroller at the thrift store for 12 dollars. I love it, it is so cute, and baby fell asleep in it as we took a walk. 4/23

Just as I have learned through experience NOT to wish away a moment of the newborn and baby phase, exhausting as it may be, I am exhorting myself to live in the present moment with my teens as well, relishing the time we still have together. The confidence and competence will come, but this time together is finite and precious. 4/28

May '09


Baby in a cute outfit before church last Sunday. 5/6

Just a quick note to say just how much I love watching my 10 year old son. He is totally immersed in Star Wars right now, and I have observed him swinging his light saber around, doing daring jumps and flips on the trampoline, all the while so engrossed in his imaginary battle that the real world fades away. I can almost see his imagined battles by the intensity of his actions. 5/26

June '09

I can only come up with one (success) this time, and that is the fact that today, I got up, and started to do the whole darn thing all over again. After I see most of what I do undone so very, very quickly, and my efforts so completely unnoticed, I figure that the fact I am still trying is a flippin' big success, actually. So there you all go, a little, bitter success. Hurumph. 6/4

Three months old! 6/17

July '09

Four months old! 7/17

So, as I mentioned, school is approaching and I am doing my yearly freak out. My husband reminded me that I only have to make a reasonable decision, put an honest amount of effort into it (regarding curriculum, scheduling etc.) and then really let God assist in the process. He reminded me that it really isn't all up to ME, that God is going to help, and fill in gaps, and take care of them. So now I need to repeat this to myself over and over, and quit thinking that there is some perfect choice for my children, the Holy Grail of Education, so to speak, if I could only find it. I am not Indiana Jones. 7/24

August '09

I had to clean out baby's dresser, and empty out all the newborn and 0-3 month clothes. Sniff. Bawl. I am saving them in case a friend of mine from church has a girl baby this fall. The gowns, onsies and sleepers will work well, as I used them for the early spring. The first of many heart aching transitions with this baby, to be certain! 8/7

8/17

September '09

9/2


I can not keep up. I fall short everywhere. I am truly fatigued from comparing my insides with everyone else's outsides. I am tired of fighting the temptation to covet everyone else's lives. I have come to the conclusion (a gift of grace, I am certain), that I am coveting an image, not a reality. And what a stinking waste of a sin. Coveting something that isn't even real, for heaven's sake. 9/18

October '09

The day I got married, I have to say, I could not see the fruits of our marriage, not even in a foggy, hopeful sort of way. I had no idea what life was going to bring. This morning, as I was sitting in the nursery (that used to be my icon room), with the baby, one daughter bringing me coffee, another bringing me some delicious cinnamon toast with pumpkin butter, and a few other children just sitting around, being a little sleepy, my husband walks in with the latte, a card and a nice bottle of wine for later. It occurred to me, that had I been asked seventeen years ago what my life might be like now, I wouldn't have ventured a guess that I would have a baby on my lap, seven other children, a bigger icon studio in the basement, 3 acres, and a vibrant life full of friends and family. 10/10

10/17

I am amused by the difference in perception about the fall foliage between myself and my 7 year old son. While driving my eldest to school this morning, I was bemoaning the recent rain and wind had knocked all the leaves off the trees prematurely. It was so beautiful earlier this week, but didn't last long at all. My son, however, came to me this morning (with his shield made from cardboard and duct tape and a stick/sword) and said, "Thank you, trees, for looking so scary just in time for Halloween." See? It is all about perception! 10/30

November '09

Melanie was sitting on the floor by me, playing with some toys, clapping, cooing, babbling. I enjoyed telling her about her newborn days, and realized with a great deal of satisfaction that my pregnancy with her, her birth and newborn days were truly some of the most glorious of my life. I treasure all the memories of my babies, of course, but there was something truly different about her birth, and I think it was my appreciation of the miracle and gift that new life is. You would think that would have happened before, but I wasn't as receptive to the notion of "gift" as I am now. Life has a way of doing that, doesn't it? 11/05

11/18

December '09 ***NEW CONTENT***

(Draft post I entitled "Whelmed Again")
Oy. What is whelmed, you ask? We all know what overwhelmed is, right? So whelmed is when I am just at the edge of overwhelm, and if I don't make some changes, I am going down hill quickly. And this, at a time when we are approaching Christmas. So here is my challenge to myself:

1)Be grateful everyday for the people in my life.
2)Let my emotions work their way out, and do not feel ashamed of them.
3)No sweets until Christmas
4)Some exercise every day, even if it is only 10 minutes
5)Be at ease with saying "no" when I need to
12/2




(Photos of Melanie at Christmas taken by my Sister in law Anne Marie, over at Nada Farm Life)

Still here.

Oh, I have a back log of posts in my head, and on my camera. Today was the day I was going to catch it all up, but alas and alack, it isn't going to happen. I began the day vacuuming the living room and den (so baby can crawl around without choking every other second), and that quickly turned into a project of disassembling, cleaning and reassembling the vacuum cleaner. Then vacuuming all the corners, nooks and crannies that get missed when the children of the house do most of the housework. Now, the day is in full swing, and I may not get back to the computer until tomorrow or the next day. But, I've got show and tell about my newly 9 month old baby (??!!$$#@???), Advent wreath, St. Nicholas mantle, concerts and plays that my children have been in, and a craft or two. Toodles and blessings!

A Cutie to Remember

We woke to a bit of snow and one very excited seven year old, "Mom, do you think I'll get to wear my snoveralls today?" I asked him where he heard the term "snoveralls". "I just now made it up!" It is great to start the day with a laugh!

I have some photos to share when I get my purse back, which is where I put my camera, which I left at a friends house. We have our St. Nicholas Mantle set up and our Advent activities (simple as they are) in place.

Until later, my friends,

Blessings!

Hmmmmm

Thought for today:

"If you do not allow yourself to feel anger, sadness or pain, then you probably won't feel joy either."
(From "You Can Choose Christmas" by Clyde Reid. I picked it up at the thrift store, and it has so far been worth the .59 I paid.)