A Mother's Smile

Edith Stein on "extraordinary women"

2010-10-04T19:23:00.003-04:00

A few weeks ago I emerged from one of my favorite places of prayer, the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington DC, with a new book under my arm: "Essays on Woman," by Edith Stein. The German Jewish philosopher-turned-Carmelite, is also known to the world as St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, whose fruitful life ended in martyrdom at the gas chambers of Auschwitz.

In the church’s cool underground chapels I had been pondering the call to sainthood, a call that of late had been plummeting through the chasms of my stubborn, quick-to-speak and slow-to-hear personality, snagging on the sharp edges of my anger and my fear, and getting mired in the muck of my self-indulgence and self-pity... read the rest here, at Catholic Womanhood.

Final Thoughts on Kristin Lavransdatter

2010-07-26T20:31:00.005-04:00

Hello to the faithful few who made it through all of Kristin Lavransdatter! Unfortunately someone requested my copy of the book, which I actually finished reading over a month ago, so my thoughts will have to be a bit here-and-there and without page citations. I was so engrossed in the book I both did and did not want it to end!

I had two main themes that I was musing on as I finished the book. Feel free to toss out anything you may remember or questions you have in the comments section.

Independent woman or woman of the Church?

The back matter on the copy of the book I had describes Kristin Lavransdatter as being about a woman who “defies her family and her faith to follow the passions of her heart.” I beg to differ. Perhaps the book reviewer saw Kristin as an “independent woman” who does “what she feels is right” rather than being “confined” by the structures, traditions, and authorities of the Church. Perhaps they saw her sins, and thought that they put her outside the confines of the Church. But to me, this is an incredibly simplistic (and of course theologically incorrect) reading of a complex character. I don’t think I could have read a thousand pages about an “independent woman who defies tradition” -- there’s not much nuance to that, and I know I would have tired of it after a while.

I would like to propose that despite--or perhaps even because of-- her transgressions and weaknesses, Kristin remains both in heart and in deed in communion with the Church. The dialogue she has with Sira Eiliv (the priest she was close to throughout her early married life at Husaby) in the convent towards the end of the book, describes the dynamic of much of her life-- over and over again she chose her own will rather than God’s, and was broken by her choice. But from that brokenness came the fruit of lessons learned and wisdom gained.

Particularly illustrative of one of the main dynamics of Kristin’s spiritual life was Sira Eiliv’s question to Kristin-- when a child burns their hand on an ember, after their mother cautioned them not to, does the mother then take credit for the burn as her punishment of the child for transgressing boundaries she had set for the child’s own well-being, happiness, and health? Not really; the burn is merely the natural consequence of the action which the child must suffer, even if the mother might wish to shield her child from the suffering. In the same way, Kristin suffers the consequences of stepping outside the boundaries that the church has put in place for her well-being, but her suffering also bears fruit. This fits within the understanding of the Church that God can use all things for good, even the greatest evil, as the Cross teaches. A simplistic reading might understand the “fruit” of Kristin’s sin to be proof that the sin was not in fact sin at all, but I don’t think one could argue this as a point of the novel itself, given the internal suffering and conversion that Kristin must go through at each stage of her life. This is not a novel about turning away from God, about rejection; it is ultimately one about redemption.

Note how Kristin in a sense “began” her life (as an adult) in a brothel and ends her life in a convent. There are nuances in each tableau-- despite her willingness to succomb to her passion with Erlend, there remained a certain purity to her, in her childish demeanor and her blind trust in Erlend’s promises. Gunnulf, Erlend’s brother, heavily placed the blame for the couple’s sin on Erlend, particularly on the fact that he was taking advantage of a woman barely beyond childhood. Kristin herself knows that she was not forced into the situation, but there still remains the sense that what she was doing was beyond her own understanding. Within this “beginning” of her life, Kristin is involved in the death of Eline, Erlend’s mistress for years, and leaves the incident feeling somewhat responsible for her death.

At the end of her life, Kristin becomes a nun; turning from the world to God. She has made two pilgrimages to Nidaros--one as she began her life, to atone for her dramatic sin with Erlend, and one as she ended her life, to atone for the less dramatic, more persistent sins that laced their way through her life as wife and mother. Finally, she enters the convent to end her days. Yet she is not simply a nun; her person retains that sense of being “mistress” of Husaby and Jorundgaard; although much of her life running the household was peppered with the faults of her strong personality, it was also seasoned with her generosity, particularly with the poor and with her children. Her strength of character is finally a redeeming quality when towards the end of her life she saved the life of an innocent child and bringing the body of a poor woman to consecrated ground for burial, and in so doing brings upon herself her own death.

Throughout her life, Kristin experiences moments of consolation and desolation; times when her prayer is fruitful and easy; times when it wells up from the searing sorrow of her soul; times of business when prayer is sparse and almost thoughtless; times when her soul seems dead and unable to reach outside itself to God. A simplistic reading, perhaps of one not experienced themselves is the life of prayer, might see Kristin as someone who is “not pious”, someone who is not “within the church” but “out on her own“ given that she does not live a life of sugar-coated perfection or consistent mystical union with God. Yet anyone practiced in the spiritual life knows that it is not the way one feels about prayer or towards God that matters; “by their fruits you will know them”. Kristin is not a saint--she speaks harshly towards her husband, and bitterly holds within her heart many of his transgreassions. Many a time the book notes that Erlend did not hold on to Kristin’s faults with such stubbornness (illustrative I think of women/men in general); in fact his lack of rancor is pointed to several times as the main hope that his family and friends had after death that God would have mercy on his unconfessed, unabsolved soul. The contrast with Erlend makes Kristin’s stubborn holding on to his sins seem even greater. She clings too much to her children, she turns to pagan practices to save the life of a child (what she does-- taking dirt from the cemetery to lay on the child-- seems not to be all that big of a deal, but towards the end of the book, we realize what might happen if pagan practices are taken to their ultimate expression-- sacrifice of innocent blood.) Her action was small compared to those who would sacrifice a child that they might save themselves. [Anyone have any other thoughts on this topic…? I wrote this quite a while ago and Kristin’s virtues are getting fuzzy in my memory.]

Regardging Motherhood & housewifery

One thing that struck me about Kristin’s wifehood is the scale of it. She was considered an excellent wife and a skilled mistress. Perhaps some might say that this was out of the ordinary, because Erlend was so inept at household matters that she had to take over the role of a man. Yet later in the book, when we are able to get a glimpse into the household of Simon and Ramborg, it is clear that even in the hands of an able man like Simon, who purposely allowed Ramborg to be shielded from the typical duties of the wife, the medieval household needs a woman to take charge of some elements, otherwise there will be disarray.

I can’t help but reflect on the difference with our own time. A household was basically a small, somewhat self-sustaining town. Being a wife and mother did not mean sitting inside one’s house alone with small children, taking care of menial tasks, and never interacting or conversing with another adult from 8am until 4pm. I think when we “modern women” reflect on what the vocation of motherhood means, we need to reflect carefully on what precisely we are including within that vocation. A vocation, it seems to me, must have an enduring meaning outside the historical period within which it is lived. We see here a historical account of medieval women who are in charge of much more than just a couple kids, vacuuming, and cleaning bathrooms. Many times Kristin refers to herself as “ just a simple woman” or “a foolish woman”-- certainly the feminists out there must shudder at such terms-- yet the rest of the story proves her to be far from that, particularly in her moments of bravery--setting out alone on pilgrimage to Nidaros, first at the beginning of her life and then the end.

Another funny thing I’ve found within this book is solace in extended breastfeeding, child wearing, and cosleeping. Kristin connects her breastfeeding relationship with her children with the joy of their early years; their sleeping by her side with intimacy with them. Bjogulf, the child she need not nurse herself, is the child who is most distant from her; she was blind to his blindness for many years. Once her sons move to the loft bedroom above her, they are grown, distant, and mysterious to a certain extent.

For all the La Leche League propaganda encouraging breastfeeding, I never read anything as compelling as this book regarding the goodness, the satisfaction, and the joy of the breastfeeding relationship. Kristin is aggrieved when she is forced to turn her children over to a wet nurse due to circumstances beyond her control; in this I saw a comparison to bottle feeding. It seems it should not be a “first choice” but rather a means of nourishment for a child when there are circumstances that make it necessary.

Book Nook Book Club: Kristin Lavransdatter, Part I: The Wreath

2010-05-31T09:00:00.005-04:00

I have two confessions to make as I begin this "check-in" on our reading of Kristin Lavransdatter-- appropriate for a novel full of confessions and secret revelations, don't you think? First, I am about 100 pages from finishing the entire three volumes. It has been an engrossing novel that has held my attention throughout! I really meant to just stick to the pace I had proposed, but we took a mini family vacation, and I've had more down time than usual, so I had more time for reading. I promise to try not to reveal anything about the story, though! Second, we are in the middle of painting our kitchen, so this first installment of our book discussion might be more of just an invitation to share thoughts/comments. I think this appropriate, though, considering that the most fruitful discussion will come once the novel can be seen as a whole. (Photo to the right is of a medieval Norwegian church.)

In addition to referring back to my previous post on Part I, and inviting comments on those points, I thought it might be helpful to group any thoughts/discussion into four areas.

The Plot : Anything surprising? Confusing? Interesting?
The Characters: What do you think of them? I can't nail it down to only the first part of the book, but I find Undset's description of the internal spiritual/emotional life of her characters deep and compelling.
The Cultural/Historical Setting: So much here. I'm particularly fascinated by the interplay between superstition and Catholicism. Did anyone else notice that after writing these books Sigrid Undset converted to Catholicism? It makes sense; it is hard for me to imagine some of the dialogues that pertain particularly to personal experiences of faith to come from someone who is merely looking "from the outside in" in a historical manner.
Personal responses to the book: Is this book making you look at life in a different way? Making you appreciate/think about anything differently? Kind of a random response, but I thought I'd note it because it was something I mentioned to Michael-- I may have a slightly romantic notion of what it would be like to live, and in particular, eat, in a traditional society. However, as I read this book I pondered the fact that there is nothing really romantic about eating rancid butter, going without protein for months on end, or having to scrape around forests for bark and moss when the winter months grow long and the supply barrels are low. Just as I have to tip my hat to the goods that modern medicine have brought about, there are genuine goods of health and human flourishing that the ability to ship food over distances and store it for longer periods of time.

This Wikipedia article provides a short summary of each section of the novel; particularly helpful are two charts of characters, one of of the fictional characters and one of the historical characters (kings, etc). As the book goes on and the family relationships become more important in the plot, this is quite helpful, especially when all the names begin to run together!

Unfortunately this is all I'm going to be able to manage for now... I hear Daddy and the boys coming back from a Home Depot run to buy more spackle and painting supplies...and someone is crying... so I'm off! Remember that our next chat on Part II of the book will be June 22.

Nature's gifts

2010-05-29T05:59:00.003-04:00

Gabriel, Peter and I escaped to the woods the other day. We escaped a load of wet laundry in the washer, carpets speckled with dirt, and bathrooms crying out to be cleaned. Despite the mess, we needed the escape; life has been hard and conflict-wrought lately, and we needed the healing of tree-shaded paths and one-on-one time with each other. Our escape route would take us to a small waterfall a friend had told us about the day before; it would be a long walk for Gabriel, but the promise of an exciting destination was enough to keep his three-year-old legs cheerfully moving down the path. He marched along with a walking stick he had discovered on the side of the trail, balancing himself with the stick as he forged across creeks, and, true to Gabriel-form, intermittently pretending to weed-whack long grasses that grew along the side of the trail.
I wondered if the spirits of our little group would remain high enough to make it to our destination. Often we start out well, but energy and enthusiasm lags as the distance we cover grows. I used to bring snacks, thinking it would provide inspiration to continue our journeys, but that proved to distracting--the main question would then become not the hike but when and where we would eat our snack and how much of it there was. Trail mix was more engaging for my three year old than nature, and so much would go unseen.
Fortunately, on this particular journey, I had left the snacks at home, yet we still had much to sustain us. Everywhere we turned, the bounty and the beauty of nature was spread before us. Small creeks welcomed rocks plopped into their shallows by gleeful toddler hands. Tiny freshwater clams peeked out of the mud at the base of the waterfall. A black water snake slid by, and we watched from a respectful distance as he flicked his purple-black tongue in and out. A friendly birdwatcher pointed our eyes towards an amazing daytime sight: a huge barred owl peering down from a tree branch quite near the trail. His black eyes blinked and his feathered head swiveled as we passed his perch; he seemed almost as surprised to see us as we were to see him. As we emerged from the woods into the sunshine, an abundance of butterflies and moths amused Gabriel. Even in a small, unassuming puddle on the side of the path we found treasure: hundreds of tadpoles flitted between marshy grasses.
The beauty of such moments, for both myself and my children, is that they cannot be produced, and thus cannot be consumed, as one might “consume” a television show, or a ride at an amusement park. In those cases, there is a certain expectation of planned for, anticipated, perhaps even calculated enjoyment--there is a certain element of surprise lacking. With nature, there is always the element of the unknown; the risk of what may or may not be. Nothing can be demanded; there may be clouds of gnats or rain; there may be sunny skies and wildflowers; in either case one must accept what has been offered and make the best of it. I am glad to immerse myself and my children in this dynamic whenever I can--either on short walks or longer camping trips--because it is good for all of us. We learn to accept the gifts for what they are-- exciting moments of experiencing something new or challenging ones that call us to cheerfully make the best of a tough situation.

Book Club: Themes, Thoughts, Questions

2010-05-17T08:19:00.008-04:00

Many of you have told me you're interested in reading Kristin Lavransdatter this summer. Our goal for finishing Part I of the book is June 1, so I hope you can find a copy and start reading soon if you haven't already!

I thought it might be helpful to lay out a few themes, thoughts, and questions regarding Part I--purely from my own encounter with the text. (I will probably glance at and share some thoughts from others' commentaries on the text once I read the whole thing, but honestly, I don't want to read them yet and spoil the plot!) I'll try not to give anything "major" away, so these points will be very general, and filled out more on June 1. I admit up front that I don't think I can approach this book in the "detached" way that I did books in my lit classes for high school and college, discussing it purely for the sake of literary criticism. There's just too much here that begs to be related to our own humanity and our own experience of faith, life, family, tradition, etc.

A few things to keep in mind/think about as you read:

The dynamic of sin: There is so much here... how the sin of individuals can affect not only those persons but also relationships, families, communities. Notice the comparisons/contrasts with our own culture. The same sins persist, but in a cultural milieu that claims that the actions of individuals can be conducted in a realm that is merely "private" and without relevance to the outside community.
Honor: What is honor, for the characters in this book? Is it meaningful, or is it simply an imposition of the culture?
Filial/spousal/fraternal/friendship/fuedal relationships: I don't want to say too much here for fear of giving too much away. I just want to note the excellent depth with which Undset treats these relationships and ask what, if anything, stood out to you about them.
Natural world: Notice how frequently the natural world is not simply an intert backdrop for the story-- life is dependent on and affected by the natural world, not only because many of the characters are farmers, but also because in this historial period there is little technology to separate one from the realities of nature. At the same, the natural world also seems to both highlight and echo the characters' experiences/feelings.
Historical/cultural elements: What stands out most to you about life in 14th century Norway? A few questions: what do you think of the "Catholicism" of the culture? What does it mean for life to be dated not by numerals but by feasts and fasts, holy days and saint's days? Here's one particular moment that stood out to me:

"Directly opposite her, on the south wall of the nave, stood a picture that glowed as if it had been made from nothing but glittering gemstones. The multicolored specks of light on the wall came from rays emanating from the picture itself; she and the monk were standing in the midst of its radiance. Her hands were red, as if she had dipped them in wine; the monks face seemed to be completely gilded, and from his dark cowl, the colors of the picture were dimly reflected...it was like standing at a great distance and looking into heaven." (p. 32 in my copy)

Kristin, as a child, wonders at the beauty and mystery of stained glass in her first encounter with it on a trip to a faraway city with her father. This was a singular experience for her; the cathedral was probably the largest building she had ever entered, and other than in the natural world, she had probably never experienced such beauty. What a constrast with our own experience--we have entered countless large structures with purposes far from glorifying God, and colors, sounds, and images are constantly flickering past our eyes in all sorts of media and modes. The church is no longer a world set apart in this way; the mere entry into a church building is not an entry into a new more wonderous or more beautiful world that reflects heaven. In fact, the art, imagery, and music encountered within a church can sometimes seem to be struggling to reach the excellence of that which we have experienced outside.

Certainly, I can think of many exceptions. Personally, when I think of beautiful (non-natural) places, my mind turns to a short list of cathedrals, churches, and chapels that I hold dear. I think what I am reflecting on is that in our cynical, technological, post-Enlightenment age, it is difficult to count on a spontaneous experience of wonder as a companion to our entry in a church structure; in the environment in which we live today, I think the ability to wonder must be both protected and cultivated because it seems important with regard to the desire for God, and that which is not "of this world," but that's another post for another time. I'd love to hear what you all think on this topic.

Happy reading!

Book Nook Summer Book Club

2010-05-12T13:49:00.008-04:00

For once, last week, I decided to browse through the "grown up" library books. As Gabriel and Peter zoomed around me pushing the step stools like lawnmowers in front of themselves and peeking at one another through the shelves, I remembered why I haven't attempted to to this for a long time. In any case, glancing through all the great books that there are out there made me realize that I am in need of an incentive to read good books. I am more and more convinced that I will only be authentic in my encouragement of my children's reading if I can continue to feed my own mind and heart with rich literature. (Not to mention the fact that the former lit major in me is itching to read something other than parenting books!)

With summer stretching before us, I thought we might take up a book together. On our adventure through the library shelves, I managed to snag Kristin Lavrensdatter by Sigrid Undset, a Norwegian author who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1928. It depicts "the clash between fuedal violence and Christian piety, traditional imperatives and the individual conscience" as it describes the life of a young woman in fourteenth-century Norway. It's long, but so far it's been a very fast read, and comes highly recommended to me by trusted sources.

I will post (and invite comments/discussion) on Part I on June 1, Part II on June 22, and Part III on July 13. And if locals are enthusiastic about this we might even have an in person book discussion at the end, but we'll see how things are going in July. I've been reading the newer translation by Tina Nunnaly (which has interesting historical footnotes in addition to more accessible language for the modern reader).

I found these interesting thoughts regarding the novel on a blog called "Why I am Catholic," in case you need a couple compelling reasons to give the book a shot.

Are you--or anyone else you care to invite--up for joining me? Drop me a line and let me know.

Antonia's Home

2010-04-07T06:51:00.003-04:00

Here's some photos and news from Antonia and David, home in Slovakia now and living in their temporary flat.

The Grace of Survival

2010-04-05T09:24:00.004-04:00

[Happy Easter, everyone! Somehow this got backlogged and I never knew it was up at Phases....here it is, better late than never, in any case.]

Be calm, infinitely calm, both in soul and in body. Do not attempt too much, but what you do, do well and gently. Quality first, but good quality. Follow grace in souls; take its step.
~Dom Augustin Guillerand, O. Cart

As the New Year began, my husband headed out of town for four days–he was off on a yearly silent retreat– while I stayed home with our two sons, ages three and one. I was just barely on the recovery end of an exhausting few weeks of whole-family illness. I knew that if I set unreasonable goals for our home-on-our-own-days, I would end up being an impatient, uncharitable, and downright unpleasant mommy. So I decided to keep things simple. While my husband was gone I planned to accomplish... nothing. The bar of cleanliness, order, and efficiency would be lowered to the level of basic survival... Read the rest here!

Ends and beginnings

2010-03-29T21:34:00.004-04:00

What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.
(from T.S. Eliot's poem "The Four Quartets")

On Sunday afternoon I took a spade to the Virginia clay to the garden in front of Antonia's house, and in four or five quick thrusts I uprooted a cluster of lavendar. The plant's silver-green leaves shook the fragrance of memory into the spring air; I hoisted it by the roots into the dark trunk of my car. "In France they grow this by the field-full," she laughed, remembering a post-university adventure; I thought of my mother's garden.

Antonia had called me earlier in the day-- she, David, the triplets, and her mother are leaving for Slovakia on Wednesday, and they're packing, clearing out the house, and tying up loose ends. Most people in her situation would probably not give a second thought to their garden plants--but Antonia is not most people. She had planted her gardens from seed and couldn't bear the thought of abandoning them to their fate. As the sun sank towards evening, I churned up the rocky red soil in the front of my own house, carving out a new home for her lavendar, her daisies, her sage.

* * *

It is Holy Week, and it is spring. A good time for ends and beginnings, I think. Antonia's triplets--Bronte, Lukas, and Aiden--will first experience Slovakia as a world of beginnings: slowly-greening mountains, black gardens pierced by tentative sprouts, and flocks of wandering sheep punctuated by the bleats of newborn lambs. They will awake to their first Slovakian morning on Good Friday, when the Cross of Christ turns up the soil of our hearts, churning us out of our complacency, loosing the deep-rooted sins that snake through the soil of our lives. And then they will listen, watch, and pray (as much as one-and--a-half-year-olds can) at the triumphant Easter celebrations, when we revel in the verdant fullness of Christ's resurrected life and its promise to those who are faithful, who believe.

* * *
I am experiencing the peculiar yet familiar blend of gratitude and sadness that always seems to attend farewells; the fullness of relationship and the emptiness that physical distance brings. Let us continue to pray for this sweet family; I will let you know how things go with their house. (As of right now I believe they have raised about one quarter of the funds needed to build their house; help is still appreciated, I'm sure.)

A Call to Generosity and Sacrifice

2010-02-08T20:23:00.012-05:00

Our late Holy Father John Paul II reminds us, in his Aposotolic Letter Mulieris dignitatem, that there is a constant link between motherhood and the Paschal mystery. We can think of Mary, as she presented her infant son in the Temple, full of the promise and joy and mystery that all babies bring. Before his birth she had carried him, the fruit of her womb, her very flesh, each day her body swelling tight around the life that grew ever-heavier within her. After Simeon's foreboding words that her own heart would be pierced by a sword, she certainly carried the weight of her Son's agony in her soul, each day bringing the inevitable Cross ever-nearer. The Cross will accompany us all as mothers--it is just a question of when, how, or to what degree.

Antonia Broadwell is one of us, a mother, who, like Mary, is bearing the Cross both in her heart and in her flesh. She is a parishioner at Our Lady of Hope, and a mother of triplets. Her husband David has appealed to us for help. Join us, the Our Lady of Hope Mom's Faith Formation group, in responding to their need, in helping carry her (and her family's) Cross, though our own generosity and sacrifices.

Update: Read Catholic Online's story "A Husband with the Heart of St. Joseph" to hear more about the Broadwell's journey.
I've already contacted David and Antonia to tell them to count on our group's efforts to raise them $2500 towards the construction of their home in Slovakia. If each mother in our group--surely there are 25 of us at least-- donates $100, we can reach this goal.

Yes, there are many other appeals for money at this time of year-- Lenten Appeals, Catholic Relief Services, Haiti disaster relief-- but may I suggest that this cause is different? David has termed their effort an "Amish Barn Raising" and I find his title very appropriate for us. There is a physical, incarnational reality to the fact that the Broadwells are part of our parish, neighbors living just down the street from us, to whom we can extend a neighborly helping hand.

Perhaps we gave all of our surplus to these other causes, and we have no "extra" funds left. May I suggest, then, giving sacrificially, particularly as Lent is coming up soon?

Some sacrifices to consider~

Could you...

shave $25 off your grocery bill each week for a month, perhaps by fasting from juice, alcohol, coffee, sweets, meat, cereal, or magazines?
go an extra month or two before getting your hair trimmed and donate the savings in the meantime?
buy your next pair of jeans from a thrift store and donate what you would have spent?
"dine in" on a night you might usually be inclined to go out, once or twice, and donate the cash to Antonia and David?
plan a $100 cut in your summer vacation budget?

These are real sacrifices, but certainly relatively painless in the face of the true suffering of one of our own parish and neighborhood community.

If you feel called to donate to their cause, or help in any other way, please do the following:

1. Contact me at carlagaldo at gmail dot com with a) your name; b) your phone number; c) your donation amount (a "pledge" so I know how our group is doing in terms of the $2500 goal). Feel free to add your name in a comment here on my blog too, to let others know you are participating, although of course leave out the personal info and the donation amount, for privacy's sake.

2. Send your actual donation to David Broadwell at 5 Glengyle Lane, Potomac Falls, VA 20165. (I won't be collecting the funds myself--I think it is just simpler and more direct this way, as they need the funds ASAP for their move at the end of March.)

Anyone else outside of the OLOH community is more than welcome to contribute to the cause too, of course!

You can follow their story and see others who are helping the family at http://www.forantonia.wordpress.com/

A few more pictures that David sent me, pre-diagnosis--

Book Nook: St. George and the Dragon

2010-01-31T21:49:00.004-05:00

Truth be told, I had been trying to avoid the knightly stories and legends until later. At the tender age of 3.5, I doubted that Gabriel could discern the difference between inappropriate and uncalled-for violence and force used in honorable defense of a just cause. Plus, I just didn’t want to fuel the mischievous fire of using sticks, poles, brooms, or any other as long pointed objects as tools for recreational poking of younger brothers.

But Gabriel kept coming upon knights anyway– a plastic castle play set, and exhibit of armor in the National Gallery, books he found on his own in the library– and I think he was getting the idea that they were just plain “bad” because every time he played knight (which entailed poking people or things inappropriately) I curtailed or redirected his fun. And he kept playing knight anyway. So, rather than have him play “bad” knight, I thought it better to fuel his imagination with some “good” knight stories.

So I caved and during “G” week we talked about St. George (a possibly mythological Catholic saint, but useful for teaching purposes nonetheless), and read this beautiful, Caldecott-medal winning picture book that dwells in the realm of myth most certainly. Written by Margaret Hodges and illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman, it is a retelling of a portion of Edmund Spenser’s Faerie Queene (about which I know quite little other than what is in this book).

Not only did Gabriel love this book, it was beautifully written, with rich, descriptive language and illustrations that could serve as practically a full semester’s study in floral botany for an older child. Although the language was on first glance a bit above Gabriel's level, I try to read a bit above his comprehension level because I think he rises to the occasion. Plus, I've noticed him using similes and metaphors in his own speech and I think it is thanks to us reading books that are a bit more "advanced." This book had a similar aura of magic and allegorical possibilities that I appreciate so much in C.S. Lewis’ Narnia. George is led to the battle with the dragon by a princess named Una, who to me had slightly Marian overtones...

Now the travelers rode together, through wild woods and wildness, perils and dangers, to Una’s kingdom. The path they had to follow was straight and narrow, but not easy to see. Sometimes the Red Cross Knight [George] rode to far ahead of Una and lost his way. Then she had to find him and guide him back to the path. So they journeyed on. With Una by his side fair and faithful, no monster or giant could stand before the knight’s bright sword.

The battle between St. George and the dragon is a bit grisly– do read the book ahead of time if you’re not sure about age-appropriateness of dragon’s tails gushing a bit of blood and a slightly wounded St. George lying almost-defeated before the last day of his battle). Although the battle is kind of intense, it leads to a Baptism-like moment when a near-to-death St. George falls into an “ancient spring of silvery water” that heals him, such that he is able to rise with the sun to face the dragon again the next morning.

I hesitated to introduce this book to Gabriel–it’s kind of a confusing mix of fairytale, myth, true virtue, and the concept of sainthood–but this book deservedly captivated his imagination and enabled me to talk to him a bit about bravery and. The Loyola Kids Book of Saints has a great take on St. George– mythological or not, the story teaches us that with Christ we can bravely fight against the dragons in our lives–whether they be or problematic habits or behaviors of our own or evil that comes from outside. Less profound but still useful in our house was the fact that I can now say “Did St. George use his sword on the nice townspeople or against the mean dragon? Your brother is not a mean dragon...” ...and it's been (mostly) effective so far.

For some more lighthearted, not quite so advanced knight books, focusing on the “good knight” idea, try the Good Knight series and the Sir Small series. Neither are particularly beautiful nor profound, but for a little guy who's into knights, they help drive home the idea that knights can be honorable and good, and they are slightly humorous if read in with an attempted British accent.

Traditional Table Tuesday: Lacto-fermentation and my new favorite condiment

2010-01-26T20:15:00.008-05:00

I'd like to introduce you all to my new favorite condiment... drumroll, please... Ginger Carrots, a.k.a. Pickled Ginger Carrots or Lacto-fermented Ginger Carrots. As strange as they sound, they are amazing, and really easy to make. You must try these!

I was inspired to make these carrots by reading Nourishing Traditions' explanation of the benefits of lacto-fermented vegetables, long a staple in many societies because the lactobacilli produced in this method of fermentation serve not only to preserve veggies, but also makes them more beneficial to the health of those who consume them. The lacto-fermented vegetable most people are familiar with is sauerkraut, although much of what we find canned or jarred nowadays lacks the beneficial lactobacilli that homemade sauerkraut contains because industrial processes kill it off. Lactobacilli and the lactic acid they produce help to promote healthy intestinal flora, much like the good bacteria we are familiar with in yogurt.

I thought I'd try these carrots after I wasn't much a fan of the sauerkraut I made. (The family loved the kraut, though I did not. Gabriel will enthusiastically eat a PBJ sandwich and sauerkraut--on the side, not on the sandwich--for lunch! Peter likes my lacto-fermented beets better than the sauerkraut, due to texture issues. Guess he's not the only baby like this!)

Here's the recipe, with some of my own notes added, based on that from Nourishing Traditions. These are a delicious accompaniment to so many things, including, but not limited to: Black Beans and Rice, Thai Coconut Fish Soup, Hummus and Avocado Sandwiches, the above-pictured "Garden Pitas" (layered with hummus, carrots, beets, and feta), Red Lentil soups and dals, Spinach & Cranberry salad, and other rich or spicy foods.

Ginger Carrots

4 cups grated carrots, very tightly packed
1 T. freshly grated ginger (use less if you're not sure you're a big ginger fan--it's strong)
1 T. sea salt
4 T. whey (if not available, use an additional 1 T. salt, although know it might be a bit salty for your taste--you can get whey by draining yogurt or buttermilk through cheesecloth, or, join a milk co-op like me and order a quart of it. Hey, if anyone is really excited about making this, I'll order you some whey myself!)

Mix all ingredients together in a large bowl or pot. Pound with a wooden pounder or meat hammer until the carrots release their juices, maybe about 10 minutes. Place in a quart-sized, wide-mouth mason jar and press down firmly so that the juices cover the carrots. The top of the carrots should be at least 1 inch below the top of the jar (they expand!). Cover tightly and leave at room temperature about 3 days before transferring to cold storage (the top shelf of your fridge).

Comp Lit 101, Preschool Style

2010-01-21T15:36:00.003-05:00

Today as we sat down to read Gabriel's rest time book, Swimmy, by Leo Lionni, he looked up at me and said, "Mommy, I think when Swimmy meets the big bad salmon fish he is brave just like St. George is brave!" We had read swimmy a couple times, but we just read our book on St. George and the Dragon for the first time today. Guess he got the idea. Not bad for almost 3 and a half, I thought, anyway!

(We've been talking about virtues and good habits, and I was wondering if it was really worth it at this stage of the game, but I think if he can identify bravery in literary form, he can understand at least in a rudimentary way what we've been talking about for "G" week this week--"gratitude" both to others and to God, mostly by working on saying thank you.)

Slow Death by Rubber Duck

2010-01-20T20:10:00.004-05:00

Heard these guys on the Diane Rhem Show on NPR today. (Here's a quick book review from the Post regarding the book as well.) The chemical folks claim BPA isn't harmful, but it sounds like the FDA is beginning to be "concerned" about it. Better safe than sorry, if it's not too hard to change, right? So I'm currently checking up on all my kitchen plastics--we've eliminated zip-lock bags for the most part, but I use 32-oz yogurt containers for freezing all my stock and extra soup. I am dismayed about the fact that there is BPA in the lining of ALL food industry cans (except the beans sold by Eden Organics)! We don't eat much canned food, but I do like getting canned tomatoes, tuna, and salmon. Sigh. I guess the bright side is that I'll be inspired to can my own tomatoes this summer--they sell tons of cheap, organic bruised tomatoes at our farmer's markets in the summer! I'm experimenting with alternatives to shampoo too; the experiment is on-going so I'll let you know how that goes after my hair goes through its "de-tox" days.
* * *
On a more philosophical note, Michael asked me the other day why changing our own lifestyle in little ways promotes what Pope Benedict XVI calls in his World Day of Peace Message "an authentic human ecology" that would "forcefully reaffirm the inviolability of human life at every stage" as well as promote a "respect for nature." I was reminded of his question when I heard the authors of the above-mentioned book discuss their investigation of the city of Parkersburg, WV, home to the Dupont Chemical plant that produces (yuck) Teflon. We stopped using Teflon a while back, and have (obviously) not knowingly purchased any cookware that is coated with the stuff since then. As I heard on the radio, there have been concerns that one of the most dangerous of the Teflon chemicals, known as C8 or PFOA (perfluorooctanic acid), has contaminated the air and drinking water near DuPont's plant, with all sorts of ramifications for the health of the citizens there--cancers, strange illnesses, etc. It hit me then again-- this isn't just about me, although I was thinking that it really was. There is a face, a person, suffering the consequences of the production of that Teflon cookware that I am consciously choosing not to purchase. I could be wrong, but I think I heard on the radio that they were moving to completely eliminate the production of Teflon...? Lots of individuals refusing to purchase such products has got to have something to do with that, at least, I hope so.

Traditional Table Tuesday ( a day late): Our Daily Bread

2010-01-13T20:52:00.004-05:00

As I mentioned in my first post on our journey to becoming more “traditional” eaters, we would like most, if not all, of the foods that we purchase to be foods that mankind has been eating for thousands of years. This means eliminating from our cabinets packaged foods such as cereals, crackers, boxed cookies, frozen premade dinners, and highly processed breads.

Now, I grant that there are some delicious breads out there, from good bakeries, made with only fresh, traditional ingredients. I don’t even allow myself to browse at the Whole Foods Bakery, primarily because at $5-$8 a loaf, their breads just aren’t in our normal-everyday budget range, but also because I would probably drool on the cases and I know Peter and Gabriel would be begging to have some bread since they love the stuff!

At home, I can make my own bread with all organic ingredients and eat it fresh out of the oven for about $0.89, if I make my standby Whole Wheat Sourdough. My sourdough starter has been disappointing me lately, so at Michael’s request, I tweaked a 100% Whole Wheat bread recipe with conventional yeast, soaking the grains overnight to reduce their phytate content (what in the world is this, you ask? Read here or here to find out) and also to make mouth-wateringly fluffy bread and rolls.

The new conventional yeast recipe I’ve recently discovered, based pretty closely on a recipe from an awesome used-bookstore treasure, Cooking with Whole Grains by Ellen and Vrest Orton, costs me about $2.00. Again, I use all organic ingredients, but instead of water I use milk, butter, and honey, so that adds to the cost. However, a great frugal tip-- you can use milk that's past its prime for this loaf--yes, sour milk-- and honestly I think it tastes even better!

I have to tip my hat to my mother who facilitated my discovery of this great cookbook which has tons of old-fashioned, all 100% whole grain recipes! She passed along this fascinating article called The Mystery of the Mill, which is the introduction to the cookbook I referred to above. Anyone interested in the history of food and the industrial food system will be interested in reading this history of how white flour, although less nutritious, became the predominant flour of our American food system. (It’s all about the money, folks. Are we surprised?)

Here’s the recipe from Cooking With Wholegrains with my modifications:
Soaked Wholewheat Bread

12-24 hours before you wish to start rising the bread, put in a large bowl:
3 T. honey
3 T. butter

Pour over:
1 ½ cups warmed (but not boiled) milk
Stir until butter and honey are melted.
Add:
½ cup buttermilk or yogurt
5 ½ cups flour

Stir until well mixed. Let stand covered in a warm place until you are ready to start the rising process. I usually do this step ( the “soaking” step) the night before, and start my rising process in the morning.

Mix together and allow to proof:
2 1/4 tsp commercial yeast
1/4 cup warm water
1 tsp sugar or honey Mix this into your bread. (I used the bread hook on my Kitchen Aid with much success.)
Once it’s mostly incorporated, mix in:
2 tsp salt

Knead it for a bit, then set in a well-oiled, covered bowl to double in bulk. You’ll be allowing this doubling four times. Once it’s doubled–about an hour, but sometimes a bit more the first time–punch down the dough, and fold the dough from the sides to the center until it is about turned over, and let rise until doubled again. After the fourth time, turn the dough out onto a floured board and knead for a minute or so until it seems firm. Cut off about a third of it, leaving about 2 lbs. of dough for a loaf and about 14 oz. of dough for a couple dinner rolls. Alternately, you could make 2 loaves. After cutting the dough knead it a minute or so more, shape, and place in your bead pan. Let rise in the pan until about doubled–don’t let it over-rise, so keep a close eye on it, then place in a pre-heated oven at 425 for 15 minutes, then lower to 375 and bake for 20 minutes longer, maybe 45 minutes in all. You may need to "tent" the bread with some foil to keep the top from browning too much.

Weekend Book Nook: Paddle-to-the-Sea

2010-01-09T21:40:00.004-05:00

“Hmmf. Good book,” remarked the bearded, not-all-that-friendly-looking, middle-aged librarian as I checked out this book with its companion 70's-produced DVD. It’s not all that often that even the chatty, friendly, lady-librarians remark on my book choices, so when our silent male librarian behind the checkout desk shared his approval of Paddle-to-the-Sea, I had an inkling that this was a good boy-book. I discovered it by chance, by typing the word “creek” into my library system’s card catalog. We read it back in the fall, during “C” week, when we were investigating creeks and ponds. Paddle-to-the-Sea is a small wooden Indian carved one winter by a Native American Indian boy in the snowy mountains of Canada. The boy sets him on the edge of a snowbank to wait for spring, and when the snow melts into the creeks, Paddle begins his journey. He makes his way to the sea by way of rivers, the Great Lakes, and the helping hands of some friends he meets along the way, including fishermen, children, and lighthouse keeper.

The illustrations are vivid and detailed–I think this is why the book engaged my son even though it had a full page of text for each vignette of Paddle’s journey. He was fascinated (of course) by the forest fire scenes, as well as the depictions of the industries and pasttimes one encounters along the river and lakes (logging, fishing, the Coast Guard, lighthouse keeping, etc.) The book puts flesh and bones to geography and natural science with maps of Paddle’s journey, as well as explanations of how water travels to the sea, and beautiful pictures of the various ecosystems he encountered. The characters Paddle meets along the way, and their jobs would make a great mini-unit on Canadian and North-Eastern American social studies.

As I mentioned, there is a short film based on the movie, which can be found in DVD form. We enjoyed it, although it was definitely a get-it-at-the-library kind of thing, not something I would say was so great that we’d want to purchase it. That being said, it seems as though Paddle has something of a cult-following (in the lightest meaning of the term), given that there are...yes... facebook groups dedicated to him. Guess I found a good one, eh? :)

* * *
Also on my grown-up bookshelf this weekend:

Fire Within :St Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross by Thomas Dubay... I've only read the intro so I'll have to save any detailed thoughts on it for later.

Deciphering Gabriel

2010-01-07T14:16:00.003-05:00

Intense, physical, squirmy, imaginative, verbal, sweet, boyish, and loud: my three-year-old son is all these and more. He is my first baby-turned-child, the first little person I am accompanying on the complicated journey of figuring out how to dwell in the world. Gabriel barrels through each stage of growth like a snowplow, strewing in jumbled heaps everything I thought I knew about both him and myself. When he was just over a year old... (Read the rest here!)

101 uses for junk mail...

2010-01-06T20:02:00.000-05:00

Maybe it was the pounding sinuses and the fever that weakened my defenses...whatever the case, 3:30pm this afternoon found me in a living room strewn with dried pine needles from the Christmas tree I had just dragged out the front door, pitching wadded up balls of junk mail to a plastic-bat wielding three year old, while my one year old gleefully threw his own stash of discarded junk mail into the front hall toilet. I should have been vacuuming, but that wouldn't have been half as fun. :)

Traditional Table Tuesday: Why Food Matters

2010-01-05T20:46:00.006-05:00

On holy milk

From virgin nurse the Boy God feeds;
This miracle all else exceeds.
The One to whom all owe their lives
On food from someone else survives.
O peerless wonder! See him thrive
On fleshly food who keeps alive

the flesh.

(From a poem featured in the Magnificat on January 1, celebrating Mary the Mother of God.)

Over the past months, and years, really, I have been trying to get to the root of why food is not incidental to those who live a life of faith. Food isn’t just a neutral factor in our lives, something just to be consumed without thought, a topic that hovers on the margins of the life of faith but never really enters in. Why? So many reasons come to mind. I’ll just get started with one. The One to whom all owe their lives/ On food from someone else survives. These simple lines reveal two simple truths:

1) Christ ate.
He who shares all in common with us (except for sin, of course) ate, and in so doing, he incorporated the act of eating into the eternal Trinity. Kind of blows you away, doesn’t? God not only made the world, but entered into it, and entered into it all the way, made it a part of himself in the most basic way possible.

2) Food comes from.
Even the completely self-sufficient farmer (and perhaps the self-sufficient farmer is more greatly aware of this) exists in a relationship of reception. For him, food comes from the earth, from his animals, from the good graces of a Creator who has set the world up to be responsive to his labor. For most of the rest of us non-farmer types, food “comes from” in an even more radical way. Food comes from the farmer, from the field laborer, from the trucker, from the butcher, from the supermarket shelf-stocker, and finally, from whomever it is who prepares it for us. What does all this mean? It means that food comes from someone. Thus, food establishes relationships. This basic fact is beautifully illustrated by the infant who must be fed; the entire survival of the infant is completely dependent upon being in relationship with someone who will feed, someone from whom food will come.

These days it is easy to forget that food comes from. We could potentially enter a supermarket, purchase some shrink-wrapped, pre-made frozen food, swipe through a self-checkout aisle, and breeze out of the store, without a word to another human being. No one to thank, no one to even acknowledge.

Looking at these two points together, we see that in eating, Christ entered into relationships. The first and most basic we see in the poem–nursing put him in relationship with his mother Mary (and through her, with all of created humanity). We can only guess at the web of relationships that the Holy Family entered into in order to obtain their food, but I would guess that they were probably not self-sufficient farmers if Joseph and Jesus worked as carpenters. They probably raised part of their own food and traded for part of it. In any case, I doubt that Christ or the Holy Family entered into exploitative relationships in order to obtain the food they ate. Granted, it was a very different time in history, but I am certain there were those who were exploited by the commercial system of the day. All this has convinced me that I need to think hard about the relationships that are established by the food that my family purchases. Am I doing my best to make sure that I am not exploiting others just to get a lot of something cheap, when I could pay more or go to some small amount of trouble to be more respectful of those who are bringing my food to me?

I know there is so much suffering that is invisible to me, suffering that I take for granted on a daily basis, but the suffering of agricultural workers is something that will probably always be present to me. I was blessed by the opportunity to meet and work with a handful of the Mexican migrant workers who pick the apples for our Virginia applesauce and the grapes for our classy Virginia wines. I see their faces when I pay more for the organic produce I purchase, when I chose to get our summer produce from Amish family farms by joining a summer CSA. Most vividly, I see Lupita’s face–she was young, she was my best student, and she and her husband worked in a vineyard. They had constant rashes from the sprays that irritated their arms as they picked the grapes, and although they wished for children, were having a lot of trouble conceiving and wondered why. Although I will never know for sure, I often wondered if the level of chemicals Lupita was exposed to had something to do with their fertility issues.

Our “traditional table” has a lot more to it than just the conventional/organic issue, and certainly, there are nutritional and health benefits to organic foods as well, but honestly, for me, those have always been the icing on the cake, as it were. To me, it is more about the people, more about the social and commercial structures that I am supporting with my food dollar, although it’s nice to know that there’s less toxic chemicals building up in my family’s bodies as well.

Simple Woman’s Daybook, January 4, 2010

2010-01-04T08:30:00.004-05:00

Outside My Window...
It’s probably still icy cold. Yesterday I put the OJ outside on the deck to keep it cool; in the morning it was a block of ice!

I am thinking...
About traditional foods and all the things there are to write and say about them.

I am thankful for...
Time to be a family.

From the kitchen...
Monday: French Toast Casserole, Homemade pitas and hummous with ginger carrots, leftover chicken and veggies, and freshly baked bread with a (tweaked) recipe from my new cookbook Cooking with Whole Grains– I’ll share if it works out!
Tuesday: Red Lentil Soup with Lime
Wednesday: Leftovers
Thursday: Spaghetti and meatballs
Friday: Tuna melts
Saturday: We’ll be at my Mom’s enjoying her delicious cooking!
Sunday: Something with our grass-raised lamb from our Winter CSA with Moutoux Orchards

I am wearing...
PJ’s, still. Snuck upstairs while Michael was with the little guys.

I am going...
To the Air and Space Museum today! We promised Gabriel, our Apollo 11 fan, a Christmas trip there again, just like last year.

I am hearing...
Michael and the boys downstairs.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week:
• Michael goes on retreat Wednesday through Sunday with his wonderful community; I need to brace myself for the alone time with two energetic little boys!
• I’ll pick up our casual “school time” again next week... which means I need to figure out which letter of the alphabet we’re on, request some books from the library, and plan a saint and some fun activities to go with it.
• My New Year’s resolution–part I– I’m going to read through Simplifying your Domestic Church, make photocopies of the blank forms, and choose some areas to start simplifying!
• New Year’s resolution part II– Once that is sufficiently done, maybe in a couple months, I’m going to start actually thinking about decorating our new home. That will be in a while, though, as Michael won’t be able to help out until summer.
• Michael and I will start reading Hold on to Your Kids and Raising Your Spirited Child together. Gabriel has been incredibly challenging during Christmas and we’re at our wits’ end. Literally.

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

Our little Peter, not so little anymore!

(For more, similar daybooks, see http://thesimplewoman.blogspot.com/)

Another newbie for 2010: The Weekend Book Nook

2010-01-02T14:43:00.005-05:00

"By inner necessity, the search for God demands a culture of the word or – as Jean Leclercq put it: eschatology and grammar are intimately connected with one another in Western monasticism (cf. L’amour des lettres et le désir de Dieu). The longing for God, the désir de Dieu, includes amour des lettres, love of the word, exploration of all its dimensions. Because in the biblical word God comes towards us and we towards him, we must learn to penetrate the secret of language..."

"Thus it is through the search for God that the secular sciences take on their importance, sciences which show us the path towards language. Because the search for God required the culture of the word, it was appropriate that the monastery should have a library, pointing out pathways to the word. It was also appropriate to have a school, in which these pathways could be opened up. Benedict calls the monastery a dominici servitii schola. The monastery serves eruditio, the formation and education of man – a formation whose ultimate aim is that man should learn how to serve God. But it also includes the formation of reason – education – through which man learns to perceive, in the midst of words, the Word itself."

(From Pope Benedict's speech to representatives of the world of culture in France on September 12, 2008)

Pope Benedict offers an idea that speaks to all bibliophiles who always knew that there was something more to their love affair with books. We are drawn to books–good books, books that reveal the truth about the human person; books that speak of the beauty as well as the sorrows of this created world; books that overflow, above all, with words– because we long to know The Word himself. "The longing for God, the désir de Dieu, includes amour des lettres, love of the word, exploration of all its dimensions."

Why is this? Pope Benedict points out that one key way that God has revealed himself is through the word, the Scriptures. The only way such a revelation can be fully appreciated is through a cultivation of a “culture of the word.” My life as a lover of language has made me realize that the more one reads, the greater one’s sensitivity to the nuances of phrasing, the depth of metaphor, and the painting of character.

Our family is embarking on a new exploration of words as we teach our little ones to "penetrate the secret of language" through learning to read and write. Like the monastery, our little domestic church is called to pursue eruditio, the formation and education of man. And so we fill our days with living books, exploring childhood’s literary landscape in order to engage the heart and open the mind to knowledge. As Charlotte Mason remarks, the key to education is presenting children not with dry facts, but “with fact clothed upon by living flesh, breathed into by the vital spirit of quickening ideas.” Good literature incarnates history, geography, science, culture, and faith, propelling the naturally curious mind of the child towards a greater engagement with topics than the faceless facts of textbooks.

Such literature does not always leap off the library shelves into our hands. Often we find it through the guidance of others who have gone before us, sometimes we happen upon it. This little Weekend Book Nook will be a space to share literary discoveries and our family’s engagement with them. Most will probably be elementary-aged children’s literature, as my oldest child is only 3, and that is where our sights are set at the moment.

My grown-up reading habits entail much “grazing” and little “finishing,” but I’m sure from time to time my own reading will make its presence known as well.

10 Questions to Encourage Engaged Parenting in 2010

2009-12-31T19:38:00.007-05:00

A great set of questions from Simplemom.net, worth pondering on a rainy New Year's Eve when I'm stuck at home sick, listening to the pathetic wheezing of my 1 year old and the coughing of my three year old. Here's my run-down. Anyone else?

Parenting Personality
1. How do you think your children have experienced you as a parent in 2009?
I’ve been something of a roller-coaster parent, I think. There have been high points of patience and new understanding, as I’ve begun to decipher my three-year old’s temperament, but there’s been low points of anger, short-temperedness, and annoyance. I think this year has been a jumble, with a lot of changes in our home (two moves) and a lot of changes in our lives (a baby who went from a little sleepy bundle to a walking almost-talking, almost-toddler), and my parenting is jumbled as well.

2. How do you want your children to experience you as a parent in 2010?

If Gabriel-and-Peter-as-adults could remember me in 2010, I would hope they would describe me as:

Prayerful
Smiling (ah, the mother's smile, so hard to find some days!)
Constant (a constant loving presence, engaging in constant routines, and calmly enforcing constant limits--even if difficult)
Giving (to my husband and to them)

Hit the Highlights
3. What aspects of parenting brought you the most joy in 2009?
Making time to be in nature with the boys during the week, and spending our free family time hiking or camping.

4. What are you looking forward to with great anticipation in 2010?
I don’t really have anything in mind... maybe this means we need to make some fun summer plans to look forward to.

Strengths and Challenges
5. As you survey your parenting toolbox, which tools do find to be working well for your family, and which tools could use some sharpening?
Sometimes I feel like nothing is working well with Gabriel, my three year old. He takes so much energy, it is like I can only do a good job with him when I am 100% rested, 100% present, 100% on top of my game. However, there has been a very important thing that has helped me more than anything else: make a connection before giving a direction. This idea--from Hold on to Your Kids-- is so good for Gabriel. If I call down the stairs "It's lunch time, come up and wash your hands" while he is playing in the basement, he will literally scream because he is so flustered at being interrupted in whatever he is doing. If I walk down the stairs, play with him for as little as 30 seconds, admire his work, whatever-- and then say that it is time for lunch, usually he will cheerfully bound up the stairs. The latter scenario takes more effort, and sometimes I stubbornly don't do it, thinking "he should just obey me." This usually has an effect of spiralling awfulness-- screams from Gabriel, more commands from me... the connection is really worth it.

That being said, I think the tool that needs most sharpening is the spousal help-tool. I think Michael and I need to talk more about how to approach parenting. We can learn a lot from one another, it's just a question of sitting down and talking about our parenting in an intentional way.

Building Connections
6. How have you pursued your children in the past year?
After hearing somewhere that the human psyche needs 5 affirmations for ever criticism made, I've tried hard to affirm Gabriel. In particular, the last moment before he goes to bed, I try to make a point of telling him something positive-- that he did a good job with his brother in a particular situation, or that I had a really good time baking bread with him, etc. Usually this evokes an incredibly positive response. A big smile, an "I had a good time doing that with you too, Mommy," and a hug. I hope that's what he drifts off to sleep thinking about, rather than the tears or the hard moments.

7. What actions will you take to be more engaged with your child in 2010?
I think both Gabriel and Peter need "special Mommy time" and "special Daddy time." When we have the chance to be one-on-one with them, I want to make the most of it, and intentionally do a special activity with them, rather than just trying to get more things done because there's one less child in the picture.

Mending Missteps
8. Is there any aspect of your relationship with your child that has been strained by unforgiveness or regret?
There are so many things that I regret about the last year, so many ways I wish I had done better, so many times I wish I had been more patient, more creative, more understanding. If there's one thing that's beautiful about Gabriel, he is very seemingly very forgiving. I know he's not quite at the stage where he can comprehend what that even means, but he doesn't seem to be one who holds grudges. It's more a question of me needing to forgive myself.

9. Is there an unresolved issue for which you need to offer your child forgiveness, or do you need to ask for forgiveness from your child?
Even though he's only three, there have been times when I have been so unreasonably impatient and short-tempered I have apologized to Gabriel. I think I need to just forgive him for being himself sometimes... he just lives life at a high-octane and sometimes I start to wish he were different. That's certainly not productive, and it doesn't take into account the fact that someday (please God) these difficult-to-handle bursts of energy and willfulness will be used for productive purposes!

10. What actions will you take to nurture a healthy connection with your children in 2010?
I think the number one thing I would like to do is focus on quality time at home. We can be so busy during the week--groceries, playdates, errands, library, Atrium, playschool--that our home time can be so filled with cleaning and tidying and moving on to the next outing. I want to have the time and space at home (or outdoors near home) to do quality activities with the boys.

New for 2010: Traditional Table Tuesday

2009-12-29T19:42:00.006-05:00

Everyone who approaches eating with a high degree of intentionality seems to like to label themselves– perhaps because the way they eat is not just about scanning a finger down a menu and choosing one thing rather than another, but it can become a whole way of life. I’m thinking here of vegetarians, vegans, raw foodies, etc. Over the past five years that we’ve been married, my husband and I have been on a gradual path towards becoming quite intentional about what we eat, but we don’t fall into any of those categories. We’ve been drawn, for a variety of reasons, towards becoming “traditional” eaters.

Traditional eating, for our Catholic family, means that we try to:

eat foods that have fed and nourished humanity for thousands of years.*
purchase food that is local; grown in a sustainable and traditional manner
prepare said food in a traditional way–maximizing not only its nutritive value but our understanding of meals as the gift and fruit of labor
ponder in ever-greater depth what it means to eat if our God has become Incarnate; if he asks us to take and eat of His very self.

On Tuesdays I will chronicle our adventures in becoming traditional eaters. I'll try to add a suggested booklist and some recipes too, eventually.

*The fascinating findings of Dr. Weston A. Price, a dentist who travelled all over the world and observed the eating habits of populations that had been isolated from industrial civilization are well-chronicled elsewhere. The short version is this: he observed diverse populations– from the Inuit in Alaska to isolated mountain-dwelling Swiss villagers to Afrikan tribes– and found that their health, not only dental but all-around, was excellent. He compared these isolated peoples to members of the same racial/cultural groups who had begun to eat the foods of industry– white flour, white sugar, white rice, concentrated fruit juices, among many things–and saw the industrial eaters suffering from a great many more health problems as well as physical and mental debilities. Although we have joined the Weston A. Price Foundation– a group that encourages traditional eating and publishes an interesting a quarterly journal on the subject– I must make a caveat here that I do not wholeheartedly endorse everything this group says and does, for reasons I am feeling out slowly and will discuss here as time goes on.

You know you're a Catholic family when...

2009-12-08T22:53:00.001-05:00

... your son, upon examining the first Pez dispenser he has ever seen, says:

"Mommy, it's opening up its mouth to receive Communion! Can this guy eat the Body of Christ too?"

A birthday letter for Peter

2009-11-18T22:38:00.004-05:00

November 17, 2009

Dear Peter,

Today you are one year old! We’ve lived 365 days together since you were born, but the details of this day one year ago are still vivid. I remember realizing as I woke up that morning that your entrance into the world was beginning, slowly but surely. I had enough time to eat a light breakfast, take a shower, and clean up the house. I wore a blue sweatsuit I had borrowed from a friend. Daddy stayed home from work so he could drive me to the hospital, and Grandma came over to take care of Gabriel, because he wouldn’t be able to stay in the hospital while we were there with you. I remember the silly questions the nurse asked me as we checked into the hospital. You were more and more insistent about wanting to come out and be with us, meanwhile I had to respond to questions about if we had stairs in our house, and whether I would be walking up and down them after you were born! Finally we were admitted, and not too long after that–after about 2 hours, and some creative help from our Midwife Wendy–you were with us, wearing your I’ve-just-been-born hospital cap and lying on my chest. Grandma told me it snowed the day you were born. I didn’t know it– you, Daddy, and I were snuggled up together in our room rejoicing that you, Peter Timothy, were finally in our arms!

Thanks to your big brother, I already had practice with the logistics of babies and toddlers. If you were anything like him, you would be happy nursing or being wrapped in the sling or carrier. So I did what seemed best and you were happy, and you shared your happiness with us. The first day you laughed at Gabriel, playing silly games with a baseball cap after dinner, and he laughed back at you, I realized the dynamism that is having another person in our family who can both give and receive joy. Now that I can see this, I pray that someday God will bless us with more children, brothers and sisters for you to tease first smiles and giggles out of, just like Gabriel did with you.

You are your own person, Peter. Gabriel wanted me to hold his hands for three months straight while he was learning to walk; I think I tried that with you once or twice but you preferred to crawl, usually after your brother and whatever exciting thing he was doing. Now that you have learned to walk, you fling yourself into it with gleeful abandon, arms held wide, running towards the next adventure until you lose your balance and plop to the ground. You’re persistent, though. You scramble up, all on your own, and keep going.

The world offers you its treasures and you marvel– yellow ducks, barking dogs, playground slides, bike trailers, tennis balls, sand boxes, and ice cream all elicit exclamations of interest and approval from you. Your smile is contagious, and your hugs (you even pat me on the back sometimes!) are encouraging. I know God sent you to me for a reason–sometimes I can make mothering such a complicated and busy proposition–because without fail your grins entice me to play, to relax, to be. As my second son, my little Peter, you are ushering me into a motherhood of greater fullness–each day I spend with you, I am more aware, less afraid; more appreciative, and less anxious. Here’s to many more years like this one.

Love,
Mommy

(Thanks to Elizabeth Foss for the inspiration to write birthday letters--I can do this, even if I can't keep up with a baby book!)

Sacrificial Giving

2009-11-12T10:38:00.001-05:00

My little ones and I made a weekday odyssey into downtown Washington, D.C. today. Highlights included my three-year-old crowing “ALL ABOARD!” in the mostly-quiet commuter train, my one-year-old nearly crawling into an indoor fountain in the art museum, and a perfect-for-little-boys exhibit featuring lots of armor and swords. The day also gave us all an unplanned lesson in sacrificial giving.

Just before entering the museum, I paused to rummage around for something in the bottom of the stroller. While we were stopped, an older woman approached us. (Read the rest here...)

Lest I think my efforts are in vain...

2009-11-11T23:06:00.003-05:00

Today as Gabriel, Peter and I were riding in the car to go pick up our veggies and milk from the co-op we participate in, we were listening to the classical music station on the radio. A Mozart piece came on– don’t ask me the name, because I don’t really focus on these things(!)– and I waited for a reaction from Gabriel. Suddenly from the back of the car I hear:

“Mommy! Is that your phone? Is your phone ringing?”
“No, Gabriel. That’s the radio.”
“But, no, Mommy, I hear your phone!”
“Actually, what you hear is the melody my phone plays when it rings. Mozart wrote that melody a long time ago, and now someone is playing it on the piano.”
“Is it Daddy?” [Daddy is our home’s resident pianist and musician extraordinaire...]
“No, it is a different man, or maybe even a woman.”
“Hey...Mozart! That’s like the book we read! Is this the melody he found? Is this Mozart’s melody?!”

At least ten months ago we read a book from the library called Mozart Finds A Melody. Gabriel would have been not quite 2 ½ years old. It was a rather whimsical rhyming picture book about Mozart and his pet bird, and his attempt to find a melody for his next composition. I had just grabbed it off the shelf, seeing that it looked kind of like a “living book” and hoping he might connect it to Daddy’s piano playing. It seemed way over his head at the time, but we read it a couple times and then returned it, not to mention it again. But it was there, swirling around in Gabriel’s little thoughts, and it reemerged...today!

Episodes like this make me increasingly more committed to filling my children’s hearts and minds with excellence and beauty, and more averse to fluffy cartoon characters or books featuring characters with bad attitudes, slapstick violence, or potty humor. You’d think the library would know better than to stock such stuff, but I find that 75% of the time when Gabriel randomly finds a book off the shelves, it features the above-mentioned attributes. Books can be fun without all that... Cynthia Rylant’s books are great examples. (I’ll talk more about them in an upcoming post.)

Finding living books that feed Gabriel’s mind and heart takes extra effort–in our case, I check trusted booklists, go to the library website, request the books online, and wait until they come in. Then our trip to the library is much simpler... I have a huge stack of genuinely good books waiting for me (although I always flip through them now before reading them) and we can make a short visit to the children’s section for one or two spontaneous finds. Much easier than browsing shelves with two little ones in tow!

A Recipe for Learning at Home

2009-11-10T21:01:00.002-05:00

It’s been quite an adventure figuring out what method of education is going to work for our home this year, but finally, two months in, I think we have it somewhat figured out. It’s kind of like one of those long-simmering winter soups that keeps expanding as I add a handful of this, a pinch of that...and so on. I can never be sure until later which flavors will stand out, which will recede into the background, and which things I know I would leave out next time.

Here’s the “recipe” for what I've been doing with Gabriel (3yrs old) so far:

I began with a curriculum book called Little Saints which featured three days of a structured preschool curriculum, but it just seemed too... constraining, as well as a little over Gabriel’s head. I’ve been using it instead as a resource.

As a preview to reading, we’ve been structuring our weeks around the alphabet, working mostly on sound-letter correlation. I’ve been getting many of my language ideas from Mommy, Teach Me to Read.

We’ve been using a lot of ideas from Elizabeth Foss’ Alphabet Path, particularly the booklists for teaching science with living books and the saint ideas.

Charlotte Mason’s educational philosophy has pointed us in the direction of focusing on teaching everything possible through books that engage the heart of the child, lots of outdoor nature study, and a focus on the formation of good habits.

I have skimmed some Montessori books and Catechesis of the Good Shepherd materials, and I've been using Moira Farrel's Home Catechesis Manual to begin introducing Gabriel to some "altar work"--in other words, he gets to learn about the Mass and its purpose using hands-on materials.

I've planned my weeks using the following categories: Language, Math, Nature Study/Science, Habits, Saints, Music, and Menu Ideas. We tend to try to focus on language elements on Monday, the Saint of the Week on Tuesday, and everything else basically shuffles in between outings, chores, meals, playtime, etc...

I'll try to post some highlights and photos of this week, along with a review of our favorite book this week, on Friday.

Hidden at Home

2009-11-04T21:38:00.001-05:00

He went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them; and his mother kept all these things in her heart. And Jesus advanced (in) wisdom and age and favor before God and man. ~Luke 2:51-52

These sparse words, found after Mary and Joseph retrieve the young Jesus from teaching in the Temple, encompass about 20 years of Jesus' life. When I stop to ponder them, they are astounding. Jesus, God among us, was a “stay-at-home son” for most of his life.

Being a “stay-at-home mom” is a relatively new thing for me. I've only been home full time for about two years. My former life involved spending twenty-plus years out of the home, receiving a formal education, much of which never mentioned what one does when one is “at home”, or, for that matter, that there is any value whatsoever in “home”...

Read the rest here!

Gabriel's First Poem, for Mommy

2009-11-03T20:18:00.003-05:00

I love you like the sun loves setting on the horizon

I love you like the river loves flowing down the mountain
I love you like the plug loves the drain

I love you like apple pie loves icing

I love you like rain loves splashing

I love you like the sun loves the moon

I love you like hugs love kisses.

(Narrated to Mommy at age 3 years, 3 mos, while splashing in the tub with little brother Peter, in these words precisely. A spontaneous and original response--albeit in the style of a book we have called "I Love You, Good-Night"-- to a few simple words from me: "I love being a mommy to you, little boys." Gratitude bringing forth beauty. Material for later blog post indeed!)

All Hallow's Eve Adventures

2009-10-31T22:08:00.002-04:00

Gabriel Francis is... St. Francis!

At 8:30pm tonight, as our trick-or-treating guests were heading back home, I offered them some candy for the road. Gabriel, ever on the lookout for treats, took the opportunity to help himself to yet another piece. "I'll just take this," he said, thoughtfully, "as an...appetizer."

Peter's first pumpkin carving. He was gleefully in the middle of the action all day today.

Come, Mommy!

2009-10-29T22:51:00.001-04:00

Smiles have been hard to find of late, but my almost-1-year-old Peter managed to pull one out of me with this little manoeuver. I was attempting to get him to sleep on his floor bed, and he finally decided he had enough of this going-to-sleep stuff. He wiggled off the bed, and took a long look at the crack of light spilling in from the door. I continued lying on the bed, hoping he would take the hint and come back. He glanced back at me, then stood up and toddled precariously over to the door. He edged it open a little bit, then scooched part way back towards the bed. He seemed rather undecided. He made a move towards the door, then finally, he lunged for my arm and pulled me meaningfully towards the light. I got it. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too–adventures in the lit-up hallway, but not without Mommy! He doesn’t say any really recognizable words yet, but he is learning to communicate loud and clear. When I finally dragged my half-asleep self from his bed, and followed him into the hallway, he wanted to go straight for the room where big brother Gabriel (the source of all excitement around here) was already sleeping. Instead we went downstairs, where he rode koala-style on my back while I finished the dishes. Probably not his idea of excitement, but it was all I could muster for 8:30 on one of those baby-should-already-be-in-bed nights.

Blog silence...

2009-10-29T22:36:00.003-04:00

The blog has been silent as the days have been so hectic and my mind has been both full (of seemingly mundane daily details) and empty (of anything seemingly worth recording) at the same time. I think the key may be to write anyway, to not expect depth or masterful words, but to write nonetheless.

(Deep breath)

Here goes.

Happy Confusion

2009-07-19T21:55:00.005-04:00

This afternoon we gathered with some good friends to celebrate a birthday. Two beautifully pregnant women were part of said gathering. Later in the evening, I noticed Gabriel patting his little round stomach and looking with satisfaction into the mirror.

I didn't really make much of it until prayer time, when we were thanking God for things that made us happy. Gabriel's contribution: "I'm happy that I'm going to have Petey's baby!"

Certainly he's got quite a bit left to figure out, given that his statement probably means he thinks his 8 mos old brother Peter is "his baby" and another baby appearing in our family who would be younger than Peter would "belong to" Peter, but we're on the right track if babies in the womb make him happy, right? :)

The Weight of Memory

2009-07-16T09:39:00.001-04:00

The contrast was striking. Surrounded by packing paper and cardboard boxes, I sat on the floor of our bedroom closet filling boxes upon boxes with photo albums, baby books, yearbooks, scrapbooks, journals, and other memorabilia type items -- all from my side of the closet. I then turned to my husband's side of the closet and packed exactly one quarter of a moving box with one photo album, one shoebox of photos, and a small box of memorabilia. I felt a slight pang of guilt when I saw the difference between "my side" and "his side." My husband often encourages our family to get rid of the unneeded stuff hanging around our house and here I was with a huge pile of things that had no clear use, other than to help me remember.

Read the rest here...

On living simply (part 2 of 3)

2009-07-07T22:29:00.002-04:00

In the last post I wrote about my family's challenge to “live simply.” We strive towards simplicity for two main reasons: first, to be good stewards of what God has given us and second, to make more space in our lives and quiet in our souls for loving and serving God and those around us. Lately, I've been pondering this phrase from Isaiah 55: “Why spend your money for what is not bread—your wages for what fails to satisfy?” Although this passage deals directly with money, it draws my thoughts towards another precious commodity—time.

Read the rest at Phases of Womanhood!

Nature, Healer and Restorer

2009-06-11T22:26:00.002-04:00

After my thoughts on nature in this post and this post, it seems timely to share Ann's many fruitful thoughts and links about the restorative power of nature, in particular, it's educating power. (I love her nature table in particular.)

Man time

2009-06-03T21:29:00.002-04:00

I caught father and son working on the car with some help from a friendly visitor--our neighbor's father from West Virginia. Gabriel was asking "what is this?" and Mr. Butch (yes, that was his name) was telling him all about it.

Out-of-Door Life

2009-05-28T14:34:00.006-04:00

A love of Nature, implanted so early that it will seem to them hereafter to have been born in them, will enrich their lives with pure interests, absorbing pursuits, health, and good humor. ~Charlotte Mason, Victorian British educator

In the spirit of Charlotte Mason, I have been striving to wander through the woods with my boys at least once a week, if not more. We spend time outside daily, but these weekly wanderings are something I've tried to build up in Gabriel's mind. We bring water bottles and “provisions” for the trail, we sometimes wear hiking boots, and we try to visit a different park each week. We leave ourselves a full morning for wandering through the forest, observing. I have been doing this instinctively for a while, but it has become a decided project after delving into Charlotte Mason's original writings. Her own time was over 100 years ago, but I believe her insights into the needs of a child's early education are wise and transcend the time in which they were written. She says, “in this time of extraordinary pressure, educational and social, perhaps a mother's first duty to her children is to secure for them a quiet growing time, a full six years of passive receptive life, the waking part of it spent for the most part out in the fresh air. And this, not for the gain in bodily health alone—body and soul, heart and mind, are nourished with food convenient for them when the children are let alone, let to live without friction and without stimulus among influences which incline them to be good.” The receptivity to, and wonder about, all that nature holds, as well as the simple power of observation, are some things I hope to be cultivating in Gabriel on our little walks through the Virginia forests.

One of the secrets of the educator is to present nothing as stale knowledge, but to put himself in the position of the child, and wonder and admire with him. ~ Charlotte Mason

That being said, I just have to take the chance to pat myself on the back and tell the virtual world out there that today, baby in the backpack and all, I bent over and scooped up a little tadpole so that Gabriel could hold one, wondering at the little legs that were sprouting on either side of the tadpole's little wiggling tail. Certainly I have done my fair share of running through woods and creeks, being out of doors, and camping, but never once have I been inspired to plunge my hand into a creek and fish out anything. I guess it's not much, compared to other motherly acts of love and self-sacrifice, but I felt it was quite a triumph. All for the love of nature and education, and my little guy, of course. Hopefully Charlotte Mason would be proud.

Gabriel stops for a break and some "provisions" along the trail.

Holy Fermentation, Batman!

2009-05-19T23:13:00.003-04:00

It's been a busy night in the kitchen. In the quart jars you'll see the night's big project: Cortido, a.k.a. Latin American Sauerkraut, ready for 3 days of lacto-fermentation on the countertop. Next to it is a bowl of black beans, soaking so they'll be ready to cook tomorrow night, and a bowl of oats, soaking in warm water and 2 tablespoons of cultured buttermilk and cinnamon so it will be ready for our muesli tomorrow morning. Finally there is a big, beautiful, and oh-so-delicious loaf of sourdough bread, a collaborative effort between Michael and me today.

The cortido is my first venture into lacto-fermentation. It's kind of like a leap of faith into the wilds of non-refridgeration, and it's honestly taken me a while to get here. After seeing the beautiful results of sourdough, with its non-refridgerated (at times) starter, I am willing to take the leap! Basically, lactic acid is a natural preservative that inhibits bacteria, and historically lacto-acid fermentation has been used by traditional socities to preserve vegetables for extended periods of time. In other words, leaving the cabbage mixture out on the counter for three days won't kill us, and the author of my cookbook assures me that if the batch goes bad, it will smell so awful there will be no mistaking it. We'll see! I'll let you know how it all turns out when we open the jars on Friday, to use as a condiment for our Black Bean Tostados.

We love springtime in the country...

2009-05-19T08:17:00.001-04:00

On living simply (Part 1 of 3)

2009-05-19T08:15:00.002-04:00

A friend recently asked us (my husband and me) for tips on how to “live simply.” I laughed, because any life that involves children is endlessly complex, and at the moment we have two under the age of three. I also laughed because it often feels like we are so far from living up to our ideals. But it is true that we have thought long and hard about how–and why–we should keep our lives simple.

We strive for simplicity for two basic reasons: Click here to read the rest!

(I know there hasn't been much action here lately, but I've been busy working on these couple posts for Phases of Womanhood!)

New Mom, New Prayer

2009-05-16T21:54:00.003-04:00

In theory, setting the alarm to get up before anyone else in the house would be good for me. In my pre-mommy days, I would do my best prayer, meditation, and planning in the quiet, hopeful stillness of the new morning. But in this baby-and-toddler season of my life, setting an alarm would mean getting up earlier-than-early! I just can’t seem to bring myself to do it.

To remedy my alarm-setting reluctance, God has sent me my son Peter, now five months old...

(Read the rest of my e-publishing debut here, and check out this excellent new website started by some enterprising Catholic women in the DC area!)

Happy Mother's Day, Mom...

2009-05-10T10:48:00.000-04:00

...thanks for all the playing, the caring, the loving, the driving, the cooking, the worrying, the shopping, the sharing, the helping, the sewing, the cleaning, the nurturing, the teaching, the supporting, the chatting, the advising, and the loving that you've done over all these years. I love you! (Hey, and that shirt is pretty hip too! :) )

My Sprouting Debut

2009-05-08T20:23:00.005-04:00

One of my recent resolutions has been to incorporate more traditional, varied, and nutritious foods in our family's diet. Sprouts, anyone? :) Apparently germinating seeds, nuts, and grains turns them into nutritional powerhouses, and it's pretty exciting for a two-year-old too!

We chose lentils as our first sprouting experiment. It was actually pretty simple. (Gabriel saw the red ones in the Whole Foods bulk bins and asked if we could try them, hence the red and green combo.) Here's a quick story about how it went. If you want more in-depth info, check out Sproutpeople, the folks we got our sprouting lids from.

First, we obtained our equipment: mason jars for about $1.25 at Michael's and the lids from the abovementioned site.

Next, the lentils were soaked overnight to jump-start them out of their dormancy.

Second, I rinsed long and well, especially those red guys. They were very starchy and the starch inhibits the sprouting.

Then I drained, long and well. (8-12 hours). I repeated rinsing and draining until the sprouts were about 2.5 days old. The most important thing was to make sure there was enough air circulating in the jars, I think so they didn't get moldy or suffocate.

By about day 2.5, this is how the green lentils looked. Exciting, no? Raw they tasted a bit like an uncooked bean sprout. As well they should, because lentils are beans. :)

Finally, I steamed a mixture of the red and green lentils to use in the recipe below, an invention of my own.

Sprouted Lentil Salad
2 cups sprouted lentils (or other beans)
1 red pepper
1/2 Vidalia onion
1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
Homemade red wine vinaigrette (to your own
taste)
Toss everything together, and serve on top of greens, if desired. I think I actually prefer it on its own, though. And yes, for those of you who are wondering, Gabriel did eat it. And he even said "yum". Although that might have had something to do with the fact that he got to pour his own dressing on top of the two tablespoons of sprout salad he had, and he poured about a tablespoon of dressing on. Not sure he could taste anything through the vinegar, but at least he ate it!

"Mommy, I want to pray by myself"

2009-05-05T07:12:00.002-04:00

...and with those words Gabriel proceeded to lead a decade of the Rosary during our little Mommy-and-me morning prayer time! It wasn't perfect, but he got the idea. And totally not something I suggested. Never would have thought he'd have the attention span or interest in it yet. Praise God! So sweet.

Peter's great E.C. adventure

2009-04-30T15:15:00.010-04:00

During my first pregnancy, I joked, I laughed, and I made fun. I had heard some talk about mothers and fathers who were so vigilant about their baby's elimination patterns that they would dangle them bare-bottomed over a potty when baby needed to relieve himself, rather than using a diaper. "Elimination communication" or E.C. it was called, and it just sounded so outlandish I couldn't even contemplate it. But then I think I inadvertently ended up doing it with Gabriel. He was 8 mos old, he was an extremely regular diaper-filler, and I decided I was tired of cleaning poopy cloth diapers. So we sat happily on his little potty chair looking at books and toys. Somewhere along the way I had glanced at a website about E.C., so whenever I sat him on the potty I also made the ASL motion for "toilet" and gave him a cue sound (a little grunt, to mimic what he usually did while going #2), hoping that someday he would associate the urge to relieve himself with that sound & sign and be able to tell me before he went. By the time he was about a year old I'm pretty sure he was running to me whenever he needed to go #2, although he never really did the sign. I could just tell by the look on his face. I don't think I cleaned a poopy diaper after about the time he was a 16 months old, although he could have been a bit older. I put him in thick training pants just before he was 2, and he seemed fine with us just going periodically to the bathroom so they didn't get wet. He is 2.5 now, and in the last couple months he's gotten pretty independent about going on his own, both #1 and #2.

With Gabriel I hadn't really read anything about toilet training...we just sort of did what seemed fun and natural and it wasn't until friends talked about it that I realized that normally one doesn't start doing this sort of thing until much later, when a child seems "ready". I am quite glad I didn't wait until later, because Gabriel has developed into the strong-personality type A toddler that would probably still be insisting on wearing diapers because that's what he is used to.

So now the big experiment is to see if the process that we went through with Gabriel will work for Peter, or what we did wasn't really that important and Gabriel just had a quirky love of using the potty at an early age. For now, I prop 5 mos old Peter on the potty and sit with him after his "wake up nurse" in the morning and after naps. We've saved a couple diapers so far, and he seems to like sitting on the potty because it actually helps him balance to play with his toys and laugh at himself in the wall mirror, instead of rolling forward onto the floor, which is what happens if I just sit him on the floor on his own. I've also been feeling a little bit disconnected from him because of all the focusing I've been doing on books and activities with Gabriel, and the potty time has provided the perfect "special time" for little Peter.

I'm sure everyone is as excited as I am about my children's "elimination story" (ha ha) so I will provide updates and anecdotes as appropriate, and field questions should they arise. :)

A Simple Woman's Daybook, March 16

2009-03-16T13:56:00.005-04:00

Outside My Window...
It is a dreary, moist, March day. Michael recently noted to me that he really doesn't like March. I'd have to agree. Wet, still cold weather, and those tantalizing few warm days that fool you into thinking that spring is really here...sigh. Although since we've moved to an area where there are more patches of woods here and there, there are many more visible signs of Spring! Gabriel and I look for "robin families" while we're walking now. He also likes the little black-capped chickadee who keeps visiting our bird feeder, mostly because the name is fun. So there are a few up-sides to March too.

I am thinking...
about how to have a more compassionate heart with my children, my 2.5 year old in particular.

I am thankful for...
the welcome we have received at our new parish and our new neighborhood after our big move last month. So many people have been approaching us with invitations to join groups and do things I am overwhelmed! We actually have to pick and choose what we will do. I'd rather have it this way than the other way, though.

From the kitchen...
Crockpot beef stroganoff, egg noodles, and frozen veggies.

I am wearing...
An almost-FOUR-month old baby in a moby wrap (oh how I love all these baby carriers!). Underneath, jeans and a nursing top.

I am creating...
a bit of order in our still chaotic home after the move. Is it crazy that I want to organize all our books by genre?

I am going...
with all my boys to Mom & Dad's for St. Patty's day dinner on Tuesday. Got to love the Green!

I am reading...
Jesus of Nazareth by Pope Benedict XVI
On the Passion of the Christ by Thomas A Kempis
Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis (for my book group)
Letter to Families by John Paul II (for my couples' group)

I am hoping...
to institute some more enriching educational practices in the rhythm of our days, in particular, classical music instead of just "silly songs" on the CD player.

I am hearing...
blessed quiet from Gabriel's room, and breathing from the little one wrapped up in the Moby.

Around the house...
we only have 6 more boxes hanging around! I counted!

One of my favorite things...
maple syrup. We all went to Cunningham Falls State Park last Saturday for their annual sugaring festival and had loads of wonderful pancakes and sausages with maple syrup, around a roaring fire pit. Gabriel, I'm afraid, ate just as much as Michael and I did!

A picture thought I am sharing...

Check out more of the Simple Woman's Daybook here.

You know you need an attitude adjustment when...

2009-03-04T13:26:00.002-05:00

...your two-year old says to you: "Mommy, don't talk to Daddy that way! In this family, we talk nicely to one another!"

Professional Mom

2009-02-12T13:31:00.007-05:00

Gusts of wind wave and snap the branches of the trees that line the playground. I'm wearing a baby wrapped snug against me, under my coat, and looking up warily to make sure no errant sticks come flying our way. It is still unseasonably warm, as it has been for the last few days, so being outside is actually pleasant, with the exception of the gale-force winds. Gabriel is trotting around busy with this and that, digging and wielding his own sticks and pretending to be a fireman all at once. I decide to sit down slowly, gingerly on one of the swings--the "mommy bench" won't work, as the little wrapped bundle on my chest doesn't seem to like to stay asleep when I sit down. Perhaps, I think, I can rest for a moment, and fool baby Peter by half-standing, half-sitting on the swing.

The second I sit down on the swing, Gabriel's eyes light up. "Mommy! I would like to swing!" For a split second, I think: Of course. And sigh inwardly. But I muster up some cheer, and go to lift him up onto the swing. Quite a trick when he's 35 pounds and I'm already wearing 15 extra baby pounds of Peter on my front. It also takes a bit of work to be cheerful, as I know Gabriel will probably complain that I can't push him high enough. He's been going through a "negative" phase recently, and doesn't like the fact that I can't sprint under the swing and do an "underdog" while I'm carrying Peter.

At such moments, I am beginning to find that analogizing my role as mother to a position in the working world quite helpful. If I were getting paid to do this--if I were literally employed to be a mother to these two children--I would, out of a sense of integrity and duty, give not a second thought to plopping the little guy on the swing and helping him have some fun. After all, someone would be paying me to do it; my time would not be my own; I would be on someone else's clock.

It has only recently occurred to me that my staying home full time is, in our culture, just as much a choice as working out in the world in some professional capacity. I decided to do this. I had forgotten this somewhere along the way. In my former life, I took all the paid jobs I worked quite seriously, and tried to be conscientious about doing only tasks relevant to my position while "on the clock." I organized more than one office in disarray; made thousands of photocopies; set up programs that I hoped would be enriching; and taught and counseled a couple hundred kids, most of whom I don't see anymore. I made some money that is probably all spent at this point, and learned some useful life-lessons.

If I approach my work as a mother with the same integrity, I must realize that here at home I am not on my own clock either. My heavenly Employer asks me to be fully present to my children to the best of my ability, rather than sticking to a rigid agenda of "things to get done" and responding to them with absent "mmm hmms" and nods. I get paid in my baby's belly laughs and my two year old's sweet words: "Mommy, I like reading books with you." I have to cling to these when my baby is wailing and overtired and my two year old is screaming "NOOO!" to my polite request that he use the bathroom before his nap. Certainly any employee has to overlook the not-so-savory qualities of the others she is working with; most people would be out of a job if they threw in the towel the moment someone at work annoyed them.

On-going job training is key in the mothering business: it starts with daily prayer and Scripture and branches out into spiritual reading, parenting books, spousal consultations, and even S.O.S. phone calls to other trusted moms. The more training I get, the higher my pay, as my eyes are opened to who my children are right now and how I can best love, serve, and teach them. Their sweetness becomes all the more apparent and carries me through the low times.

Of course, there are places where the analogy just falls through. Sick days come to mind. Oh how wonderful it would be to have someone just whisk the little ones away for a bit while mommy goes about resting and recovering. (Sometimes I wonder if this momentary respite from the mommy job wouldn't speed my recovery along--I feel like even a little cold just drags on and on now that I have babies to keep caring for.)

For the most part, though, the analogy works, and it has been helping me approach my role at home with a new level of enthusiasm, and a new realization of just how much energy it actually takes to "be at home with the children." The next time someone asks me what I do, I will not use the words "I'm just at home." I am 100% sure this job is tougher and more emotionally and psychologically challenging, and requires more creativity, than any other one I have ever had in the working world. I am not sure how to convey that in a short, casual, small-talk-esque response, but I will be working on it--off the mommy clock, of course!

Teams of Our Lady Challenge: February

2009-02-10T23:41:00.005-05:00

Did anyone join in our Teams January challenge to pray every day with your spouse? How did it go? Michael and I were rather successful in making conjugal prayer a more constant part of our days; as I shared in our Teams meeting I think this was thanks to a simple commitment to going to bed on time (usually 10pm). We prayed Night Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours just before retiring almost every night. In addition to being my favorite "hour", saying Night Prayer together seemed to spread a blanket of peace and unity over our evenings that was not present when we didn't pray with one another.

The Teams challenge for February is to have a good "sit-down" with your spouse. This is a monthly endeavor for all Teams couples, but sometimes it can fall by the wayside, as it has for Michael and I in the past few months. A sit-down can be different things for different couples, but the basic idea is to spend some time together discussing issues of core importance to the marriage and to the family. The format can vary: I was struck by a suggestion that each spouse have 20 minutes to say whatever they feel they need to say to the other, without interruption (or criticism, correction, etc...) and then the other spouse has a time to thoughtfully reply to the whole of what the other has expressed. Another couple in our Team spends time discussing the Teams reading, shares high points and low points of the past month, and then has an "airing of grievances"--this same couple always accompanies their sit-downs with a special dessert. I think we could learn a thing or two from them!

For Michael and I, the key is scheduling, setting aside a particular time in which we agree this sit down will actually happen. As soon as we got home from the meeting, we set up a time for our sit-down. I think we still need to have a sit-down to discuss what our sit-down format should be... regardless of the format, one will be happening later this month.

Must read for Moms

2009-01-17T20:58:00.002-05:00

Ann writes over at one of my favorite blogs...

Love is patient. How can I be patient in the tipsiness of this domestic chaos? How can I be patient in the pain of now? When vocal cords pitch screams, when tears brim and fall, when the clock keeps ticking steadily ahead and we just keep sputtering, stumbling along? I want to strive ahead of now, into that future where we all stick to the script of buffed perfection.

Read the rest...
The Order of Lov e

Yesterday--A collage

2009-01-15T15:25:00.004-05:00

(a morning bath for Peter, with Gabriel doing antics in the background)
(playtime with Gabriel)
(my tangy greens with cranberry-apple relish, goat cheese, and pecans)
(more bath time)

A Simple Woman's Daybook, January 12, 2009

2009-01-12T14:39:00.005-05:00

Outside My Window...
It was so icy cold this morning when I took a short walk! But now it is sunny and the sweet sounds of the Safeway being constructed across the street are echoing through our courtyard. (Oh, to have toilet paper and dish detergent within walking distance again soon!)

I am thinking...
about how to healthfully, economically, and creatively feed my family in this new year. Our number one resolution is avoiding most packaged foods.

I am thankful for...
My husband's continual forgiveness and for his community, the Youth Apostles, with whom he just spent a good time retreating up in Emmitsburg.

From the kitchen...
Butternut squash souffle, chicken in white wine sauce, egg noodles, and greens.
I am wearing...
An almost-two-month old baby in a moby wrap (oh how I love all these baby carriers!). Underneath tan cords and a printed sweater.

I am creating...
nothing much material at the moment. Hopefully, slowly, peace and order in our home.

I am going...
to the midwives for a postpartum visit on Wed, and maybe (oh exciting) out to dinner with Michael on Friday!

I am reading...
Jesus of Nazareth by Pope Benedict XVI
Leap of Faith by Queen Noor (for my book group)
Letter to Families by John Paul II (for my couples' group)

I am hoping...
To continue with the halting steps we have been taking as a family towards having a more regular prayer life.

I am hearing...
Baby breathing, and a beep on my cell phone, which means a mommy friend from the neighborhood is probably letting me know where afternoon playtime will be! So good to have people nearby for Gabriel to socialize with.

Around the house...
I keep finding cotton balls everywhere... someone's brilliant idea at library story time to give the kids "snow" to take home. It was fun for a while, but it's getting a little old...

One of my favorite things...
Chocolate chip cookies, mom's recipe with half vanilla and half almond flavoring.

From Car Talk to the Trinity

2009-01-09T22:50:00.003-05:00

(Spoken as we are driving home from dinner at Grandma's...)

Gabriel: "Mommy, what was that clicking noise?"

Me: "I just locked the car doors."

Gabriel: "Why did you just lock the car doors?"

Me: "To keep us safe."

G: "Why do you keep me safe?"

Me: "Because I love you."

G: "Why do you love me?"

Me: "Because you're my son."

G: "Why am I your son?" (Well, he couldn't quite figure out the grammar of this one but I understood what he meant when he said "why are you my son?")

Me: "Because Mommy and Daddy love each other."

G: "Why do you love each other?"

Me: "Because God made us to be like Him."

G: "Why did he make us to be like him?"

Me: "Because he wants us to share his life forever."

G: "Why?"

Me: "Because that is God's nature."

G: "Why is that God's nature?"

Me: "It just is."

G: "why is it just is?"

Me: "... because it just is."

G: "Oh. Mommy, is this the Beltway?"

Matters of the heart

2009-01-08T21:46:00.004-05:00

Prayer over the People for the Feast of the Holy Family (Year B)

Lord,
you care for your people even when they stray.
Grant us a complete change of heart,
so that we may follow you with greater fidelity.
Grant this through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

A complete change of heart. The words pealed like bells in my soul on the feast of the Holy Family. The words struck me--could one really pray for such a radical gift from God? Would it not seem more prudent to pray for small improvements here or there, or extra grace in areas where we struggle? This is not a prayer for those who want to wade in slowly, getting used to the waters of a life lived in Christ's foosteps. No--the Church encourages us to jump straight in without looking back. Reminds me of JPII calling us at the start of the new millenium to "go out into the deep" (Luke 5:4) , to duc in altum, and of his fatherly advice to "be not afraid", given at the start of his pontificate.

I have been praying sporadically, perhaps desperately at tougher times, for grace and understanding in my relationship with Gabriel. Last night I finally threw in the towel on those piecemeal efforts and decided to trust that what the Church prays, I too can pray. I begged for a complete change of heart, to allow me to see Gabriel as a little person who needs to be lovingly, creatively, and energetically taught, rather than a two-year old terror who needs to be controlled.

So much grace was poured out on all three of us today--Gabriel, Peter, and Mommy, home on our own for a few days while Michael is on retreat--that I have to say that I think my prayer is on its way to being answered. I don't have time to give all the details, as bedtime is quickly approaching. I'll finish with one sweet moment: I have been struggling with Gabriel's interactions with Peter being a little bit too rough--playfully rough, but nevertheless, too much for a 2 month old. Today while Gabriel was brushing his teeth, Peter was watching him intently from his snuggled position in the wrap. Gabriel stopped and said in a very loving voice, "Peter, when you get older, you can brush your teeth. And when you get older you can wear pajamas. And when you get older, you can play with me!" It almost seemed the complete change of heart was spilling over--improving not only Mommy's interactions with Gabriel but his interactions with Peter.

A Prayer Challenge for the New Year

2009-01-07T21:23:00.003-05:00

We're both Catholic. We married in the Church and value our faith. We both know the value of prayer, want to/try to/actually do pray every day on our own, and both pray with our children. Why can't we seem to pray together...?

All these questions filtered through the lips of almost every couple at a recent monthly meeting of our couples group. My husband and I are part of a movement called Teams of Our Lady, a lay-movement within the Catholic church that "offers couples a way to grow in married love, happiness, and holiness." As part of this group, we commit to a series of "endeavors" or basic practices that we will pursue as spouses for the purpose of building up our conjugal (and personal) spiritual life. This month we will be focusing on the endeavor to find time each and every day to pray with one another.

It would seem to be a simple thing, prayer with one another. But one of us falls asleep nursing the baby sometimes, and the other one of us falls asleep telling stories to the toddler, or when one is home alone while the other is out working, or when one is grouchy and the other is hurt, or when one is busy late into the night and the other is tired, prayer together becomes a bit elusive. Prayer together, if it is honest, is also a moment of extreme vulnerability. When we have drifted apart due to schedules or disagreements, coming together for prayer points out the abyss between us with a silent rawness that I can't stand... so I admit that sometimes I avoid it.

Yet I know that prayer can be a moment of healing, an anchor in a marital life that is being tossed on the waves of schedules and new jobs and a two year old who confounds us. So I look forward to the challenge of praying with one another each day this month, the quiet moment before sleep when we come before God together in humility, with gratitude for the day past and hope for the day ahead.

(Are you up for the challenge too? You're welcome to join in with your spouse and/or community and let us know how it goes!)

Simple Woman’s Daybook, January 5, ‘08

2009-01-05T15:43:00.004-05:00

Outside My Window...
It is a middle-sort of day, with cool gray skies and only a here-or-there breeze. I’ve already been outside twice today, once on my own and once with the boys to “get some wiggles” out of Gabriel before lunch time.

I am thinking...
About how to best organize our home. One of my new year’s resolutions seems to be (never made any officially but they seem to be popping up nonetheless) that the mess in the house will not be MY mess. Gabriel’s toys may be strewn about, but if all the grown-up stuff has a proper home and proper order, I think I will be much more at peace.

I am thankful for...
Gabriel taking a nap in the middle of the day. It makes afternoon so much more bearable because he’s not at the end of his energy rope. Instead of getting sluggish, being over tired makes him get gets more and more crazy.

From the kitchen...
Leftover pasta with slow-roasted cherry tomatoes, a simple salad, and homemade bulghur-wheat bread. Tomorrow we’ll do a black bean stew in the slow cooker, over rice.

I am wearing...
A month and a half old baby in a sling! And brown cords, blue flowered shirt with dusty purple shirt layered underneath.

I am creating...
a new, more patient, more generous way of interacting with my 2yr old. Honestly, this takes up much of my creative energy throughout the day! Instead of saying "Time to brush your teeth", this morning I said "WOW, you have stinky dinosaur breath!" Brought him into the bathroom with no complaints!

I am going...
To donate many baby items to the crisis pregnancy center ASAP! Peter dutifully napped this morning and Gabriel “fixed his lawnmower” with his new tools all by himself, so I was able to organize all the items, bag them up, and set them by the door. This sounds like not a big thing, but I’ve been waiting weeks to do this!

I am reading...
Raising Your Spirited Child:A Guide for Parents Whose Child Is More Intense, Sensitive, Perceptive, Persistent, Energetic, by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka.

I am hoping...
To continue with the halting steps we have been taking as a family towards having a more regular prayer life.

I am hearing...
Swallowing from a little nursling with big still-blue eyes.

Around the house...
Things are more organized... but still not squeaky clean. Still not on top of that. Not sure I can claim a newborn as the reason, either.

One of my favorite things...
Peter’s baby smiles.

A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week:
Gabriel and I will out the “Terrific Two’s” library story time, as well as bring back the armload of Christmas books we have in the library basket. Michael will be heading off to a mostly silent retreat this weekend starting on Wednesday evening, so we will have a long stretch of time with him gone... but we will by no means be alone, with evening visits to both sets of grandparents scheduled and birthdays to celebrate.

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

(Click on the Simple Woman's icon above to participate in the Simple Woman's Daybook yourself!)

8 Lessons Learned in 2008

2008-12-31T07:21:00.005-05:00

(Thanks to Elizabeth Foss and Conversion Diary for the promptings to write this post.)

1. This world--and in particular, my world-- is full of generous people.

For some reason, this surprised me to no end. I have known for some time how blessed I am with family--in particular, this year I realized it because it was only thanks to the sacrifices of my husband and mother that I was able to have the time to complete my studies for my Master's degree. I consider that degree a gift not only from my professors and the saints, theologians, and thinkers I read in order to complete it, but also from all those who made it possible for me to physically sit in the classroom. (Another thank you must go to the Knights of Columbus whose scholarship funded a big part of my studies.)

My pregnancy and newborn son also brought a flood of generosity from all directions in all forms. When I was having back problems, a massuese neighbor gave me a massage for free, and the chiropractor gave me a free session because I was pregnant. A neighbor threw me a baby shower I wasn't expecting. Thanks to family, friends, neighbors, and complete strangers from our church(es) I didn't have to cook a single meal for over a month after Peter was born. And many people have entertained my exuberant older son for a couple hours, or fed him or put him to bed, so I could have some much needed rest with the newborn.

2. Generosity can't be directly "paid back". It can only be passed on.

I've always been pretty dutiful about writing thank-you notes for gifts. Recently I've begun to realize that this duty was almost equated in my mind with a sort of "payback" for the gift or favor received. I think I've revised my thinking about "thank-you's" for the most part. I still think they are important--after all, I would like to know if possible if the faraway person I sent a gift to had indeed received it, and hopefully with some sort of delight. But I think I now realize that the beauty of the generosity I have been showered with is that it has prompted me to open my eyes for opportunities to be generous to others. An ever-generous neighbor has inspired me to be more friendly to the people in my neighborhood--people I may not know well, who may not be the kind of people I "usually" spend time with, but nonetheless people who are in the orbit of my existence and who are often in need of something or the other.

3. When my body is happy, I am happy...and I am a better wife and mother.

A.K.A., my chiropractor was my best friend when I strained my back and could barely walk back in September. The days were filled with impatience with Gabriel and shortness with my husband. Each night ended with me in exhausted tears, unable to do anything but fall into bed. Certainly post-partum has brought a new wave of exhaustion, and similar endings to the days, but at least I know this will pass. The back issues were somewhat frightening in that regard because I didn't know what was wrong with me. This extends to nutrition too. All those generous people who gave us meals also gave us lots of yummy desserts along with them. And now it is Christmas, so of course, my favorite cookies are hanging around the house. I can't resist them, but I think I can tell I just don't feel all that great with all this refined sugar floating around in my blood. There were a couple weeks while I was pregnant that I gave up sugar all together, and during this past Lent we gave up buying most processed foods. I think both really made a difference in how I was feeling, and my moods. I'm almost excited for the sweets to be done so I can cleanse my system a bit. I’ve dabbled a bit with Weston A. Price’s theories on food in the past, and I finally ordered Nourishing Traditions. I don’t think we will ever go full-on with his nutrition advice, but I like the recipes for traditional foods and broths and look forward to trying them.

4. Nature is often the best playground (and healing-ground) for young and old alike.

Thanks to some neighbors with kids Gabriel's age, I've been inspired to spend a lot of time outdoors with him--on nice days we could spend 2 hours in the morning and 2 hours in the late afternoon. Even if tempers are short as we put on shoes and jackets, the moment we step outside the door , it is so much easier to be the mother and son we are supposed to be. Gabriel is free to run and yell and be 2 years old and I am free to enjoy him without all the piles in the house staring me in the face and daring me to clear them off the stairway...or the dresser...etc.

I also realized this is true for our family as a whole after a delightful camping trip to Cunningham Falls State Park in Maryland. I forgot to bring any toys, which was probably a good thing. Gabriel spent his days happily playing with sticks, as well as a harmonica some fellow campers passed on to him; I spent some time reading; and Michael spent hours trying to start a fire from scratch. All were content and happy, and there were far fewer squabbles and moments of impatience. I think we came home from that trip a closer family than when we left.

5. I am a better (meaning more patient, creative, cheerful, etc.) wife and mother when I have something--even something small-- outside the home that challenges me to think.

I had this "outside challenge"--as well as time to be "just me" rather than "mommy-me" built into our everyday schedule while I was in school in the beginning part of the year. I have not had this as much in the latter half of the year, and I am feeling the lack. Certainly, being at home full time means I have time to see other friends who are at home all or part of the time, but it is often hard (and frustrating) to think and converse at any profound level while keeping one eye out for the children's antics. I am a bit lost at the moment, wondering where I should turn for this "outside challenge", but I know with time something always comes up.

6. Stuff is stressful; simplicity is soothing.

Now that I am home and staring at it all the time, I realize how much stuff we have that we don't need. Often this stresses me out because of the clutter that it creates around the house (and the number of objects I am constantly tripping over now that I can’t see where my feet are landing because I have a baby in a sling in front of me). But I’ve realized that when I think about getting rid of things, I’m often thinking about me. Granted, it is probably spiritually profitable to live with less, so there is a personal benefit to simplicity. But it just hit me how much more ambitious I should be about passing on things we don't need or use to others who could use them when I called the crisis pregnancy center to see if they would want any baby items. They said of course, they're taking everything they’re offered, especially because the hard times with the economy has caused an influx of clients for them. I looked at the huge pile of unused baby blankets that we have, thought about how I haven’t really given much of a second thought to the financial crises because it hasn’t impacted us much, then thought about babies that might legitimately be cold and actually need the blankets...I decided it was time to get serious about weeding out unneeded baby items, and whatever else doesn’t need to be here.

7. Prayer can be fruitful even in “arid” times.

I was talking to my spiritual director last month and lamenting that although I often attempted to pray, I felt like I was doing it more to “check off” my duty for prayer rather than out of love or desire to pray, and that my prayer often just seemed to be just that: dutiful, done, but not overly enjoyable or consoling. As we chatted, however, I realized that in several areas of my life where I needed some clarity, or some consolation, I had received great insights. They had come along in the midst of dishes or putting Gabriel to sleep or driving, and they had been mulled over on the back burner of my brain while I was busy doing other things, until God finally brought them to the forefront of my mind. That, he pointed out, is the fruit of prayer. Not to mention all the moments when I am able to be more gentle or more patient–all that is the fruit of the Spirit’s work in our lives, and thanks should be given for this particularly in days when “prayer time” itself seems more dry.

8. If there is time and energy enough to eat, there is time and energy enough to pray (and participate in the Sacraments).

Gabriel and I, and sometimes Michael, had a good routine of praying Morning Prayer as a family for a while this year. Then I convinced myself after Peter was born that we didn’t have time to pray as a family, or that it would be too exhausting to corral Gabriel in the prayer room. After considering how much time and energy I spend putting food on the table and cleaning up from the meals, I figure even half as much energy can be put into our personal and familial prayer and sacramental life. We are now starting to try to pray Morning Prayer, the Angelus, and Night Prayer. So far, one week down. 51 to go. We’ll see how we do! The most fruitful moment of prayer for me has been the Angelus, as noon always seems to find me going 150 miles an hour without stopping for breath–we’ve usually just come in from playing, or groceries, and I’m zooming around the kitchen trying to get food on the table for lunch. Suddenly the alarm on my cell phone will go off to remind me that it’s 12:00. Gabriel seems entertained by it–he looks at me with a grin and says “What time is it?!?” I stop, close my eyes, take a deep breath, and together we stand and pray the Angelus before an icon of Our Lady in the living room. It has a wonderful way of calming me and reminding me of all that is good and true.

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-26T19:45:00.001-05:00

(Now I am beginning to realize the complexities of the family photo with more than one child...we failed to plan this before Peter was comfortably napping in his car seat all ready to head out to the next celebration, and Gabriel was wiggling all over the place. Before this photo he had a blanket over his head that he was refusing to remove; smart Daddy pulled it off a millisecond before the photo to make him laugh just at the right moment. Phew. It was good practice for the 13-person extended family photo we took at the next house!)

Baby Peter's Christmas Debut

2008-12-20T20:11:00.005-05:00

After many protests on my part, Peter made his debut on the big stage on Thursday night in the Christmas pageant at the school where Michael works. Yes, he was "Baby Jesus"! I had my doubts--picturing hordes of winter-germ-laden kindergarteners petting Peter on the head, or a crying Peter bound to a manger of straw for a half hour. But after much encouragement from Michael, I reluctantly agreed. It all turned out okay in the end--Peter cried for half of his part--which was only about five minutes at the end of the show anyway. Then he settled down and seemed to be making happy faces at "Mary" for the second half--he must have been doing something cute because the young girl who played Mary was smiling down at him--genuinely. At that point I was glad I had finally agreed despite all of my "mommy fears." It seemed like a powerful "pro-life" moment, if only for the girl who had the opportunity to hold him in her arms and marvel at the beauty of his littleness and newness.

I've often thought about the pro-life movement as I have been pregnant and mothering in the past two years. I have never been very active in this movement in the expected ways, but I have often hoped that my presence and witness as a mother play some small part in advancing the respect for unborn life in our country/world. And so I try to be somewhat put together for the day, rather than in sweats and sneakers, even if "all I do" is stay home or pop into the library. I try to have a positive, joyful attitude when I address my children in public, and avoid negative comments about them in the casual conversation I have with the person in the grocery store check-out line. Recently all this has been harder, what with the challenges of being a mother to two, and the challenges of Gabriel's two-year-old-ness. I will continue to try, however, because I know how powerful and encouraging it has been for me when I have been having tough times as a mother to see other moms exhibit cheerfulness, creativity, and joy with their children...often in small, simple ways that they probably don't even realize I notice.

Some days I just feel like this

2008-12-17T20:29:00.002-05:00

While I was stirring the oatmeal....AKA a typical morning at our house

2008-12-16T20:33:00.001-05:00

(no little brothers were harmed in the creation of this photo)

First place for Most Profound Christmas Card...

2008-12-15T20:04:00.002-05:00

...goes to Dr. Schindler, Dean of the John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and Family. No "happy holidays" inside his Christmas card; instead, a thought from St. Bernard of Clairvaux:

"The fact that man was created gratuitously, out of nothing--and in such dignity--makes the duty of love still clearer...If I owe all that I am in return for my creation, what am I to add in return for being remade...? 'What then shall I give the Lord for all that he has given me?' In the first act he gave me myself; in the second, he gave himself; and when he did that, he gave me back myself. Given and given again, I owe myself in return for myself, twice over."

Two good Advent reads (for kids and grown-ups alike)

2008-12-11T19:20:00.008-05:00

I have to admit I am enjoying the re-discovery of the children's section of the library that Gabriel, now 2, has prompted. We brought home an armful of Christmas books from our last trip. Here are two that I've taken particular delight in myself.

The first is The Nativity--the basic biblical text--accompanied by illustrations by Julie Vivas. OK, so the reason I am loving this book is not only that the angel Gabriel has enormous translucent wings andd announces the birth of Jesus over a cup of tea to a Mary who appears to have just come in from hanging laundry to dry. I also love the reality of motherhood that Vivas paints into the story of Christ's birth. She shows Mary's delight with her ever-growing womb. The journey to Bethlehem begins with St. Joseph straining to help a very pregnant Mary onto her precarious perch atop the donkey. (And I thought riding to the hospital in our car was uncomfortable...!) After Jesus is born an exhausted Mary snoozes in the hay next to some curious chickens, while, leaning against Joseph, who cradles the swaddled baby. When Joseph and Mary ride off into Egypt, Mary carries Jesus in a simple sling. I suppose it could sound almost a tad irreverent, but it’s not. Perhaps “earthy” would be a better word to describe the illustrations–to me they seem to gently the tangible, physical, reality of the Incarnation, and the amazing humility of the situation in which God chose to become flesh.

The second, I admit, Gabriel has not yet let me finish, nor is he quite old enough yet to appreciate: A Child’s Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas. We’ve ventured farther into the book than I thought he would allow, because the first section of the book features firemen. Reading even a bit of this book aloud, however, was a treat for me, because the vivid poetic language rolled so easily and beautifully off the tongue. Here’s a bit I particularly enjoyed:

All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find. In goes my hand into that wool-white bell-tongued ball of holidays resting at the rim of the carol-singing sea, and out come Mrs. Prothero and the firemen.

Now I remember...

2008-12-09T19:17:00.003-05:00

Our late autumn gift, our new little Peter, has been out of the womb for three weeks as of yesterday. Slowly I am beginning to recall why I started this blog soon after Gabriel was born. With the arrival of a new baby, my physical, emotional, and spiritual life had turned upside down and inside out. What this meant with my first child and what it now means with my second is quite different, and yet there remain a few similar themes, and I think these are what drove me to start recording my mothering experiences. First, there is a constant storm of “second guessing” accompanying every choice I make as a mother–what will this lead to? what habits am I ingraining now that will be hard to change later? am I being too lenient? too strict? etc. etc. Second, there is an inner struggle with negativity towards myself, a negativity I attribute partially to post-partum hormones, partially to exhaustion, and partially to an insidious power that is trying to attack at the heart of where the initial bond with God is formed.

Certainly cultivating one’s prayer life is the first weapon in the battle against all this, and I have been trying to take some steps back towards stability in prayer in the last few days. Could the blog be a second line of defense? Perhaps. I have doubted the value of this blog recently, and have several times come close to abandoning the project completely. But I think amidst the hazes of new motherhood, good will come from drawing near enough to certain thoughts to define them, from articulating the beacons of goodness that flash through this fog and are often quickly forgotten.

Like this child...

2008-08-27T19:28:00.000-04:00

As Michael gears up for the year with a new job and a new schedule, the luxury of our summer days all together has drawn to a close. Michael is gone “full time” now, blessed with the chance to pursue two great opportunities in the realm of his career and his education. This means that Gabriel and I–and our ever-bigger son-in-the-womb– are now home together “full time.” There have been some tough times in these first two weeks Michael being gone, many involving Gabriel’s new tendency to want to micro-manage every element of his environment, and the emotional outbursts that result if something–or someone doesn’t follow his directions. The other part of the story is that he just isn’t napping anymore, which causes exhaustion for both him and me and the need for quiet activities to fill the long afternoon hours.

But this post won’t be about all that, as much as I’ve been analyzing it and debating how to best and most appropriately respond to it. I began this blog as a way to remember to smile, to focus on the positive in the midst of the exhausting, draining first months of motherhood. To take note of those moments that peek through the shadows like sunshine spilling through the tree branches that canopy our courtyard, and to realize their beauty.

This afternoon Gabriel and I trotted outside with a bucket of water, some sidewalk chalk, and two large paintbrushes. We would be “water painting”– literally, painting with water on any available outdoor surface, and watching to see what would happen when we painted the chalk with water. It is an ideal warm-weather activity for toddlers–simple to set up, no mess inside the house, and excitingly large scale. I was sitting down doodling with the chalk for a while (and trying to stay off my feet for a bit as the midwives suggested), but Gabriel wanted to start right in with the painting. He brushed a couple times at the sidewalk doodles, and then called himself Painting Man and jumped over to paint one of our courtyard trees. He called me to join in the fun– “Mommy will come?” As nice as it was to sit for a while, I was happy to join in. We dipped and brushed for quite some time, darkening the entire side of the tree with our water
“paint.”

One of my earliest memories–my mother claims I couldn’t have been more than two or three when it transpired– is that of making wet hand prints on the brick-red siding of my neighbor’s house, running back and forth from her inflatable pool to the wall of the house, enjoying the freedom of making my mark somewhere exciting and new.

I had found the idea for “water painting” with Gabriel in a book, but it was already there, waiting for a quiet moment to emerge from my memories. How many other small childhood joys might I unearth from within me to share with my son on these long nap-less afternoons? And how to discover them? Sitting with my planner, filling in which activities to do when, seems too grown-up, too professional, too gridded, too sterile. Thinking about childhood is too distant, too detached; I must become the child that, in a way, I am, but often do not allow myself to be. Recently I have spent the first moments of any quiet prayer times simply allowing myself to be God’s child. I am your child, Lord. It is a reality, a statement of fact, that I must make a concerted effort to be and to know on a level that is more than merely intellectual. Unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven (Mt 18:3).

So often I fail to turn from my to-do lists, my worries, and my strategies of control, and in failing to turn from these, fail to become a child. So often this failure has made my little Gabriel seem a stranger to me, a mysterious puzzle who frustrates and exhausts me. Yet... whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me (Mt 18:5). Any failure to receive my son in appropriate charity–this is a failure to receive Christ himself.

It’s funny how things link together so neatly. A moment when I finally allow myself to receive my son–to turn, to become like a child, and engage in simple play alongside him, when I could have instead stayed seated out of tiredness or distraction–becomes a moment when I receive my own childhood clearly and suddenly. I am your child, Lord. Such moments as these are when I begin to live this reality more humbly and truly, and stumble ever so slowly towards becoming the child I must be in order to be the mother I am called to be.

Happy Birthday, Little Man!

2008-08-17T15:37:00.002-04:00

Our just-turned-two-year-old insists that he is a "man" and not a boy, and although Michael has repeatedly emphasized to him that he is not a man and that he will tell him when he is a man, Gabriel continues to call himself by that title. Although I understand and respect the important coming-of-age implications the title implies, I was quite tempted to write “I’m the birthday man” on his birthday crown. True to form, whenever anyone exclaimed “you’re the birthday boy!!” last night Gabriel would just look at them and say “Man. You’re the birthday man.”

Although he’s got quite a ways to go before he can legitimately claim that title, I have to admit there are so many moments when I feel like he’s on to something with it, and I can’t help but smile at them. From the way he paces purposefully while talking on the telephone to someone, to the way that he animatedly discusses some of his favorite activities–grilling and lawn mowing-- with us on our evening walks around the neighborhood, he does seem like a little man.

Of course, there are many occasions when I know he’s not a little man, and still quite a small boy who needs lots of love and patience from his mommy. With the two-year-old days upon us (seems like they’ve been here for a while, actually) there have been emotional meltdowns about who will remove his shoes and when and where it will be done, about teeth brushing, outside time, and struggles with naptime that seem never-ending. But I know that this too shall pass, considering it seems like it was just yesterday that he came from the hospital and I was learning how to wash diapers and cook dinner while doing the little bounce-the-baby-to-sleep-in-the-sling dance at the same time.

My little man, how much you’ve taught me in these two years! Here’s to many more years of mutual education. :)

A glimpse of our son

2008-06-25T09:17:00.005-04:00

We had our second little peek at our son on Monday. Yes, we "found out" this time. With our first I thought I had all-out decided that I would never find out the gender of the child before birth, but for some reason I was just very excited this time around to know, and to be able to love and prepare for our little one as a son or daughter rather than as a mysterious "baby". We waited until birth to find out about Gabriel, and who knows, I might do the same again with (God willing) the next baby. But for now we are getting our hearts and our home ready for this little guy.

Those sharp little eyes...

2008-06-20T00:22:00.005-04:00

[Father to son:]

Gabriel, I see four noodles left on your plate! Let's finish them up.

[Gabriel, frowning, inspects his penne noodles, which have spaghetti sauce on them as well flecks of spinach "hidden" in the sauce. He holds one up critically, not liking the sight of that extra green stuff:]

It's...dirty.

(Yes, it's a year-old photo, but the look on his face was VERY similar to this...)

Education is a Life

2008-06-19T14:37:00.002-04:00

Except for a couple intermittent years, and my most recent degree at the John Paul II Institute, I am (academically) the product of public education, from elementary school through my undergrad days at UVA. I must admit that much of the rote memorization, fill-in-the-blanks type learning that Charlotte Mason, a turn-of-the-century English educator, seems most concerned about seemed to have fallen out of style, at least when I was in school. Perhaps with the heavy emphasis on standardized testing (coming back just as I was leaving for college) there has been a renewed interest in memorization? In any case, in both my elementary and high school experiences, there was a heavy emphasis on creative writing, group projects, problem-solving, skits, and role-playing, as well as hands-on experimentation. I remember my parents even expressing concern about the fact that we were not forced to drill much of what we learned into our minds through rote memorization. By the time middle school rolled around I used a calculator for all of my math classes, so the necessity of recalling even basic math was for the most part eliminated. Yet there were still plenty of history, vocabulary, and grammar textbooks with bold-faced words and questions at the end of the book that told you “what you needed to know”; I became an expert at attacking tests armed with this somewhat formulaic knowledge.

Emotional Connection
I have been skimming through Karen Andreola’s A Charlotte Mason Companion in company with Education Is.... She points out that a key element in making education truly a “life” for a child (or adult) is forging an emotional connection to the subject matter. She quotes Charlotte Mason as she describes successful education as that which kindles a “touch of emotion” in the child with regard to a particular subject matter. Certainly this rings true with common sense– anyone dedicates themselves more diligently to that which they care about, rather than to that which they are bound only by duty or the pressure of evaluation.

I tried to ponder what has stuck with me most in my educational life. Literature, history, and language classes were always fascinating to me and received my primary attention; math, science, and any technical or computer classes elicited a “who cares?” feeling from me. I did the work out of duty; I always got “good grades,” but what I perceived as a lack of “human interest” in these classes made me feel that they were irrelevant to my life. Even now I am somewhat at loss to figure out how to present such subjects, particularly at higher, post-elementary levels, to someone without a natural affinity for them, in a way that they might care about them.

Recently my interest has been peaked by different environmental issues; I realize how much science of all kinds (biology, chemistry, statistics, etc.) goes into identifying and creating approaches for solving different environmental problems. Perhaps if my chemistry class had begun with a “big picture” such as the environment, describing how changes in the environment impact us and others directly, then moving from this to the necessity to understand the hidden chemical workings behind it, I might have been more inclined to care about it than I was when we began with the abstract “little picture” of the elements, their atoms, etc.

Gender differences?
One question I have regarding this particular topic (the important of emotional connection) has come to me because so much of what I have read about Charlotte Mason has been from the female point of view. In much of my studies of late, (interesting books like What Could He Be Thinking? by Michael Gurian, The Essential Difference by Simon Baron-Cohen, and Taking Sex Differences Seriously by Steven E. Rhodes) I have found a lot about the differences in the male and female brain and the best ways that, on average, males and females learn and engage in the world. From what Baron-Cohen writes, I think it may be more important for the feminine brain to forge emotional connections with subject matter than for the masculine brain. Why is this? Baron-Cohen describes the typical female brain as one with neural connections built more strongly for empathizing. What is empathy? He describes it as “the drive to identify another person’s emotions and thoughts, and to respond to them with an appropriate emotion” in order to understand, connect, or resonate with another person emotionally. On the other hand, the typical male brain is built with neural connections that promote a higher degree of systematizing–analysis, exploration, and construction of systems, in order to predict the behavior of the system or to invent a new one. Systematizing requires a degree of detachment, whereas empathizing requires a degree of attachment. There is much more that could be said–his book is a fascinating read–but I think the short conclusion I’d like to draw here is that my above inference about females vs. males and emotional connection to subject matter is probably true to a certain extent.

My husband is my “common sense” case study for this: he enjoys figuring out problems (physics, chess and other similar games, math equations, etc.) just for the pure joy of solving problems. This baffles me, as it is so different from my own natural inclinations. Yet his insistence that this is why he enjoys solving problems proves to me that there is another way of being, learning, and acquiring knowledge out there that is very different from my own. (My husband is not a purely “technical” guy by any means–his main pursuit is teaching and learning music; he is a singer, an excellent artist, and a not-too-shabby writer as well.) In addition to my own little “case study”, I recall that most of the more enthusiastic members of my computer classes and physics classes in high school were male. Certainly there were many women at my school who also excelled in these classes (I went to a science and math-based high school; that’s another story for another time!), so these male and female brain differences are not a hard and fast rule.

In light of all of this would be quite interested to hear about CM-style education from the perspective of a male educator, or from those who have educated males through the high school level in this fashion, given that I may be in the position of guiding the education of my son, who quite possibly has a mind that will work and learn in ways very different from my own.

Happy Father's Day (Week), Daddy!

2008-06-13T14:16:00.003-04:00

It's been a Father's Day "week" at our house. Gabriel shared his first ice cream cone ever with his Daddy on the porch on Wednesday night. (Note: this was mostly fun, but slightly stressful because of the constant squeals of "Gabriel HOLDS IT!!" Next time he got his own cone. He's definitely not a baby any more!) On Thursday night I took my "lazy boys" who had just slept for a 3.5 hour nap together out on a "family date" to Huong Que (Four Sisters) a yummy Vietnamese restaurant in Falls Church. Gabriel was quite excited and continually requested to eat "noodles at the restaurant" as we were driving there. After dinner we visited Home Depot, A.K.A The Man Store, to buy Daddy his Father's Day present. I'm not sure who was more excited, father or son!

Happy Father's Day, Grandpa!

2008-06-13T13:58:00.002-04:00

Gabriel cruises on his Great-Grampi's old tractor (lawnmower) thanks to 100% Grandpa horsepower.

Poetry in the heat

2008-06-10T13:10:00.004-04:00

Present: An entire shelf in our living room filled with poetry books from my various lit classes, writing classes, and used bookstore adventures.

Problem: Their woeful loneliness and lack of attention over the past few years.

Solution: A tall glass of ice water, the resolve to ignore a couple things around the house, and a quiet moment on the couch during nap time to contemplate a few poems each week.

The beginning: A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry by Czeslaw Milosz

A thought from today's reading: From Milosz' introduction to a poem: "In a way, poetry is an attempt to break through the density of reality into a zone where the simplest things are again as fresh as if they were being seen by a child."

Gratitude and shadows

2008-06-09T13:58:00.001-04:00

Yesterday I went through my nightly ritual of opening Gabriel’s door and peeking in on him before retiring for the night. It is always a gentle, sweet moment, to see him sleeping with his arms tucked up around his head and his legs for once relaxed, but on this night in particular I was just overwhelmed with God’s generosity to me in blessing me with my little family. Michael, Gabriel, and our “baby-in-the-belly”, all with a roof over our heads, fresh and abundant food to eat, and a circle of generous family and friends extending out around us.

My husband and I have committed to pray the Magnificat daily as a couple (part of the endeavors of the Teams of Our Lady group we are a part of) and so often saying this prayer can seem like just dutifully reciting a stream of words together after dinner. Last night, however, it was a gift that I knew these words by heart, because they seemed to fit my sentiments so precisely–the Almighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name!

One thing I struggle with, however, is that my moments of gratitude are often tinged by fear, a shadowy fear that seems to whisper that I shouldn’t rejoice in these moments too much because they are precariously perched on the edge of an uncertain future, and an accident or sudden unforseen circumstance could change things instantly, bringing suffering and sorrow.

I was comforted and challenged by the words of C.S. Lewis in his book The Four Loves (the recent discussion book for our Team). He speaks of how in all of our earthly loves and joys are really just faint echoes of the heavenly life of love that is the Trinitarian communion of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, which we will hopefully one day participate in. This is a consoling thought, because it is so often hard for me “desire heaven” when I consider it as an unknown, unexperienced “place” rather than something I have known and desired–in all of my desires–all along. I think this is all tied to the fact that for me emotional, affective love of God has of late been an elusive element of the spiritual life. (Lewis himself characterizes such “emotional” love–attachment to God that basically “feels” the same as our attachment to our loved ones on earth– as a supernatural gift, and thus not something to be attained or acquired by virtue of our own effort or willing.)

I thought Lewis’ thoughts below on this topic seem like a good elaboration on St. Paul’s words in 1 Cor 13:12: “At present we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then face to face.”

“We were made for God. Only by being in some respect like Him, only by being a manifestation of His beauty, loving-kindness, wisdom, or goodness, has any earthly Beloved excited our love. It is not that we have loved them too much, but that we did not quite understand what we were loving. It is not that we shall be asked to turn from them, so dearly familiar, to a Stranger. When we see the face of God we shall know that we have always known it. He has been a party to, has made, sustained and moved moment by moment within, all our earthly experiences of innocent love. All that was true love in them was, even on earth, far more His than ours, and ours only because His. In Heaven there will be no anguish and no duty of turning away from our earthly Beloveds. First, because we shall have turned already; from the portraits to the Original, from the rivulets to the Fountain, from the creatures he made lovable to Love Himself. But secondly, because we shall find them all in Him. By loving Him more than them we shall love them more than we now do.”

Continuing thoughts on Charlotte Mason

2008-06-06T13:22:00.005-04:00

These thoughts continue the online discussion that was started over at Elizabeth Foss' blog on the free e-book Education Is... I've been using my reading of this book to try to develop a "big picture" vision of how Michael and I can best care for Gabriel, because I have found the parenting books filled with step-by-step strategies and tactics and ways to respond to different behaviors to be somewhat dissatisfying. Better to have a vision, I think, and develop strategies that fit in with this vision, than use things that other people suggest haphazardly.

Education is a Discipline
The second prong of Charlotte Mason's educational approach is "education is a discipline", and by this she meant to highlight the importance of cultivating good habits that our children will continue into their adult lives. Good habits are central, she emphasizes, to the forming of good character. She has seven main points regarding education as discipline:

We should put intentional thought and effort into forming habits.
It's not always easy to administer consequences, but our children's futures depend on our faithfulness and efforts to do so.
Habits can become stronger than natural inclinations.
Education should deal with character issues, not just acquiring a certain amount of knowledge.
Incessant watchfulness and work are required for forming and preserving habits.
Cultivating good habits makes up one-third of our children's education.
The effort is in the forming of a habit; once it is formed it is no longer strenuous.

Mirror, mirror...
There are a limited number of habits that it seems Gabriel (22 mos) can work on right now. I have slowly been realizing, as I reflect on his most bothersome behaviors, that if I translate them into my own life, I could stand to work on the same things myself! Surprise, surprise, right? He's young but certainly quite perceptive; perhaps if I start putting some intentional thought and effort into improving, he'll start improving too, with our help, of course.

Gabriel is easily frustrated--to the point of moans, groans, squeals, and sometimes tears--when he sets a task for himself that he can't do in the time or the way he wants it done. For example: putting on a hat that keeps falling off, or setting some of his toys up in particular arrangements when they keep falling down.
Mommy is easily frustrated in similar situations--throughout my life it has been tough for me to persevere when a task doesn't come easily or quickly to me. Recently I have been particularly frustrated and easily defeated when trying to get Gabriel to nap/sleep in a reasonable amount of time. (I'm pretty sure Gabriel can sense my frustration...)

We both need to work on perseverance and patience under trial, I think! It is not always convenient or easy to figure out the best way to facilitate his growth in perseverance, but I think knowing that I need to work on the same habit will help clear the clouds some when I am faced with Gabriel's frustration in particular situations.

Consequences and Reactions
I must admit that I am stumped about how to teach Gabriel not to act in a way that is inappropriate. In other words, what consequences are appropriate for an almost-two-year old? I am getting the feeling that the key for this age--at least for this little boy-- is in #5 above--incessant and consistent watchfulness and work on the part of mother and father to physically keep him from running into the street, pushing other children away from toys, throwing objects, or standing on furniture. Verbal reprimands seem only to reinforce the precise behavior we are trying to prevent, and to encourage him to do it with more glee, awaiting our reactions! I continue to search for wisdom from other more experienced moms for appropriate methods of response to such behaviors, so if anyone has any ideas, let me know!

Discipline brings Freedom
This point, highlighted in Education Is, reminds me of a point from my moral theology class. It is encouraging when I begin to worry about the repetitive nature of my "teaching" interactions with Gabriel. There will come a point that this instruction enables him to reach a greater stage of freedom!

The first stage of education in the moral life is to practice adherence to the commandments, which often, from the outside, can seem "constraining". Yet it is this first stage that is the bedrock for the true moral life, which is the life of the virtues, as developed to the point of becoming "habitual". "Habitual" virtues are those that can be exercised repeatedly and with creativity in diverse situations. They are not necessarily exercised with ease (although they may be) as even great saints are troubled by great temptations and moral quandries. It is only by complying with the beginning steps of discipline--adherence to the commandments, or in Gabriel's case, to our physical requirement that he not run into the street or push his cousin, that a person is able to experience true freedom in action. This freedom for Gabriel is one of the great hopes that sustains my everyday work of teaching and guiding!

Back to the Blog.... With scraps of a vision for our home

2008-06-01T21:41:00.011-04:00

Thanks to an abundance of grace and constant support from my husband and my family, I have emerged from beneath the heavy yet illuminating stacks of theology books and finally finished my Master's degree, even miraculously passing my comprehensive exams in March amidst the throes of an admittedly mild (but still tiring) first trimester of my second pregnancy! I'm back to the blog to facilitate a turning of my intellectual mental energies towards home again.

I was inspired by a post over at Elizabeth Foss' blog to dive into a reflection on the educational ideas and theories of Charlotte Mason, via a short (but substantial) e-book called Education Is... Much could be said about this, certainly, and I hesitate to throw my 2-cents in with seasoned mothers who have much more experience and wisdom than I, particularly because I am only beginning to learn about CM's thought. But perhaps because of my lack of experience it seems like a privilege and a gift to have time to reflect on ideas that ring so true while my son is still so young. My challenge to myself will be to synthesize the ideas I encounter in the upcoming months with some of those I had time to ponder at the JPII Institute these past few years.

Education Is describes Charlotte Mason's approach to education as "three-pronged": "Education is an atmosphere, a discipline, a life." The first prong--"atmosphere"-- is what has most provoked my thought, particularly because Gabriel seems to absorb and mimic behaviors , placement of objects, and words so easily. The book points out six elements of Charlotte's thought on education via atmosphere:

Children should grow up in a natural home setting, not an artificial, adapted environment.
Character traits can be learned through the atmosphere of the home.
We must be careful how we live, because our children will pick up attitudes and ideas from us that will affect them the rest of their lives.
The atmosphere of our homes is formed out of the ideas that rule our lives as parents.
Atmosphere is only part, not all, of a child's education. We must also give the discipline of good habits and the living ideas of a generous curriculum.
The atmosphere of the home should encourage freedom under authority and obedience.

In light of these six points, I contemplated what words I might want to describe our home. I kept coming back to these :

ordered
rhythmic
peaceful
simple

In other words, in the best of all possible worlds, our little domestic church might echo something of a monastic lifestyle, with adaptations, of course, because the family, just as the monastic community, is called together by God to fulfill man's vocation to love. I spent 30 pages writing a paper for my Patristics course on how St. Benedict's monastic Rule might inspire and structure family life, so I'll try to hit the highlights. Perhaps this is a tangent from CM's atmosphere, but it is the direction my brain went...!

The Monastic and Familial "Milieu": Physical, Temporal, Auditory
The monastic enclosure is designed with the recognition that man is both body and soul, and so both physical and spiritual elements of a home must be oriented towards God. Each of Benedict's monastic communities were to have an oratory, a physical space dedicated particularly to group and individual prayer and nothing else. In a similar way, the physical space of the home could be filled with sacred objects and pictures, and a special place might be created for family prayer. This physical space can be the place where the family gathers at specified times, creating a rhythm of daily prayer which fit into the daily schedule of the family. I think in particular the "tide" of monastic life--flowing in and out of the oratory to other tasks and occupations--is what I would like our home to be like. Certainly it will be a challenge as schedules become more complex and little ones start their own activities, but I think such an "objective order" centered on specific times of prayer is important. One of my professors always said that the more one enters into an objective order, the more the order shapes who you are, the way you live, and the way you think. (A chaotic order in life creates a chaotic, scattered person; on the other hand, a rhythmic, prayerful life forms a careful, prayerful person. I know this is true in my own life so I can only imagine my children might be the same way!)

Another element I found fascinating was the reverence with which the Benedictine rule treats material objects. All objects must be treated with the same reverence as the "holy bowls of the altar"--even the most "lowly" bucket or scrub brush used for cleaning. Each item is seen as a gift which God has allowed the monks use of for the purpose of their survival and flourishing. Since we've been married we've tried to keep our home "simple" in terms of the stuff we have and the way we have it arranged in our home (books are our major stumbling block here). What I think has been challenging to us is in this realm is to maintain a proper appreciation for material things in the midst of a proper detachment--in other words, to maintain an appreciation for what we have such that we take the proper time to care for it, rather than adopt an attitude of carelessness with the excuse of detachment. Treating what we have and are able to use as the "holy bowls of the altar" helps keep us away from such carelessness, I think. Reverence towards material goods is also tough to cultivate when so much of what is out there is created really to be "disposable". We try to use as few disposable items as possible (although we really could still do better), not only out of "environmental" concerns but also with the above reverence in mind. It is hard to cultivate reverence and gratitude when we can throw away something once it has been dirtied or used once.

The monastic year as structured by Benedict in the early Christian era was quite dependent upon the seasons for both timing of prayer (due to available light and scarcity of oil and candles) and work (harvesting vs. planting, etc). One might pass over this detail regarding the temporal environment of the monastery as irrelevant to modern families, but it seemed particularly important with regards to the type of attitude it cultivated towards life: a Marian attitude of receptivity and dependence upon God and creation as He designed it. Certainly family life now might not revolve around available hours of sunlight, but the Marian virtues of active, patient receptivity and dependence might be cultivated in other ways--an obvious example might be planting and tending a vegetable garden, as my husband has tried to do these past few years. Such an activity seems to go hand in hand with "eating with the seasons"--possible not only for gardeners but by frequenting local farmer's markets, or at the very least, respecting what is reasonably and locally available in grocery stores (rather than eating Chilean strawberries in January, for example).

The Benedictine monastery was not completely silent, but it adopted specified times of day for silence. Further, the monks were encouraged to avoid "bawdy laughter", gossip, and pointless chatter. Certainly in light of the presence of small children a "rule of silence" even if for particular times is challenging, and even the practice of reading Scriptures at table rather than talking during certain seasons as the monks do has been a tough one for our family, even though I think we have made a valiant effort. I think the most successful way I have tried to "cultivate silence" in our home is to avoid excess noise--certain children's CD's with synthesized backups and annoying vocals can tend to fit in this category--and ensure that the sound that is present is beautiful and uplifting. (Although this isn't too tough when we have got a pianist for a husband/daddy, a nice piano taking up most of the living room, and lessons and practicing echoing through the little house throughout the day!)

Obedience, Service and Hospitality
...are further ways the monastic life and familial life can be paralleled, and further elements that I think would fit into Charlotte Mason's "atmosphere as education". I'll save discussing these for another post, because I think I've gone on long enough today. Gabriel is bound to wake up from his nap soon, and the "rhythm" of our little domestic church is currently quite determined by his sleeping and waking hours, so I must be finished with this post for now!

Ode to vegetables (and a veggie cookbook too)

2007-06-05T11:04:00.000-04:00

We’re not vegetarians, but a quick glance on our shelf or in our fridge and you might think that we are. In the past year and a half, Michael and I have come to the conclusion that meat should be a “sometimes” food for our family, which means that vegetables, grains, and legumes take an honored place in our pantry! We usually only buy and prepare some type of poultry, fish, pork or beef/buffalo dish about once a week, and we decided to take this low-meat approach for a variety of reasons:

*Simplicity: An interesting fact: the monastic Rule of St. Benedict calls for a vegetarian diet unless otherwise dictated for health reasons. Ever heard of those cookbooks “From a Monastery Kitchen”? They’re all vegetarian.

*Solidarity: There are so many in the world who either aren’t able to afford to eat meat. There are also those who usually eat only simple vegetarian food and live quite healthy lives. We try to think of them as we plan our weekly meals.

*Ecological justice: The practice of raising grain-fed, factory-farmed animals for consumption in our country results in huge quantities of (apparently) cheap meat and poultry that meet the “average American” demand for everyday meals with generous portions of meat or poultry. Much has been written about this elsewhere, so I will simply note that the low cost of purchasing such meat doesn’t accurately represent the high environmental and social cost of producing it. We find it much more in keeping with our call to be stewards of the gifts of creation to spend our resources to support farms that raise grass-fed meats and poultry. Local farms like Cibola, Mt Vernon Farm, or Polyface Farms, make appearances at roadside stands and farmer’s markets. Even though this entails a sacrificial expenditure of more money than we would otherwise spend for meat, we decided that it is ap appropriate use of our resources, especially because we purchase meat so infrequently.

*Health: The challenge of creating vegetarian meals requires a bit of creativity and forethought, but it’s worth the effort because it encourages us to eat larger portions of vegetables and legumes thanks to their starring role as the “main dish”. We definitely aren’t vegans, though –we eat a good deal of eggs, cheese, yoghurt, and milk, both to boost our protein intake, and because they’re just so darn good! :)

Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone has been my companion in the kitchen in this adventure of mainly-vegetarian cooking. It is by far my favorite cookbook on the shelf, the one I turn to for everything from broccoli to baking. Her recipes are simple yet interesting enough to provide a good variety, healthy but not annoyingly “low-fat” (they don’t call for reduced-fat cheese or egg substitutes, for example), and well-proportioned (I don’t have to adjust the salt/seasoning/oil amounts as I do with many other recipes). Because we cook from scratch almost all of our meals, we do have a relatively well-stocked pantry, but even considering this I think it is a great compliment to her cookbook to say that rarely do I have to make special trips to the grocery store for ingredients that I will only use once. She also makes suggestions for seasonal eating, which we try to do as much as possible by preparing what we can buy at the market or grow in our garden, now that it is flourishing thanks to Michael’s hard work.

No, I am not on a secret mission from Deborah to get all of my blog readers to run out and purchase her cookbook, although I did email her to thank her for her great work on this cookbook. I just wanted to share because I think the key to great vegetarian cooking is often getting an inspiration and a jump-start from some excellent cookbooks, and I have used quite a few vegetarian cookbooks that have recipes that are much too complicated to use on an everyday basis, and made me think that cooking mainly vegetarian meals would be too difficult. I now know better, thanks to VCFE!

Here’s one of my favorite "main dish" recipes from the book, although I must admit it is hard to choose just one.

Green Lentils with Wine-Glazed Vegetables, Spinach,
and Garlic-Rubbed Croutons
Serves 4-6

1 ½ cups green lentils, sorted and rinsed
Salt and freshly milled pepper
1 bay leaf
2 tsp olive oil
1 onion, cut into ½ inch dice
1 large carrot, cut into 1/4 inch dice
1 celery rib, cut into 1/4 inch dice
1 garlic clove, mashed or put through a press
1 T. tomato paste
2/3 cup dry red wine
2 tsp Dijon mustard
2 T. butter or extra virgin olive oil
2 tsp chopped parsley or tarragon

Put the lentils in a saucepan with 3 cups water, 1 tsp salt, and the bay leaf. Bring to a boul, then lower the heat to a lively simmer and cook until the lentils are tender but still hold a little texture, about 25 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a medium skillet. Add the onion, carrot, and celery, season with ½ teaspoon salt, and cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, until the vegetables are browned, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic and tomato paste, cook for 1 minute more, and then add the wine. Bring to a boil and then lower the heat and simmer, covered, until the liquid is syrupy and the vegetables are tender, about 10 minutes. Stir in the mustard and add the cooked lentils along with their broth. Simmer until the sauce is mostly reduced, then stir in the butter and season with pepper.

Just before serving, steam or saute a large bunch of spinach. Pile the lentils into a flat serving dish, surround them with the greens, or stir the greens into them, and serve with thin Garlic Rubbed Croutons (slice baguette/other bread 1/4 inch thick, brush with olive oil or butter, place on baking pan and bake at 375 until crisp and golden, and rub with halved clove of garlic when they emerge from oven)

Buen provecho!

Along the road of motherhood

2007-05-21T15:14:00.000-04:00

The warm weather and blue sunny skies seem like they’re here to stay, the flowers on the trees have been replaced by green leaves, but the wind is still a bit cool–it’s May, which means graduation season! We’ve been to three graduations in the past three weeks: my classmates’ from the John Paul II Institute for Marriage and family, my sister’s at Mason, and Michael’s sister at UVA. (Many congratulations are in order!) Other “May milestones” that have been added to the mix are my first “baby-out-of-the-womb” Mother’s Day as well as Gabriel’s 9 month birthday on May 17. All these piled together have inspired me to reflect a bit on the contrasts between my academic life and my life as a mother.

The graduation I attended at the John Paul II Institute “should have been” my graduation, had I continued along the traditional Master’s in Theology program path. I took a year off after Gabriel was born and will be returning to finish in the Fall semester, so I will be studying with a whole new group of fellow students. The dear folks who were graduating were my classmates during my first year of the program, people who have become the kind of friends who just “get” where I’m coming from, who I don’t have to explain myself to in moments of joy or crisis. As I was sitting there during the Graduation Mass, I did not in any way regret that I missed out on “our” second year together–instead I was realizing how much harder these last nine months have been for me than any other nine academic months I’ve ever had.

In general, I found academia to be quite “easy”–in that starting around 6th grade I pretty much understood what needed to get done and did it, and that continued the same way for the next nine-odd years of my academic career. Yes, it required some amount of suffering, self-discipline, and sacrifice, but in the end, all of that was for the benefit of my own growth in knowledge and skill. At certain points along the way–6th grade, 8th grade, 12th grade, college–I was rewarded and applauded for all of my hard work by graduation ceremonies, robes that made all my striving seem to have come to some kind of official culmination, speakers who shared wise (or not so wise) words about the meaning of it all and exhorted us onwards and upwards, awards, and gatherings of friends and family who commended me for my efforts. Not to mention all those handy lines that accumulated on my resume so that the whole world would recognize all those hours of studying, thinking, and reading.

Motherhood, on the other hand, is something I am doing without that secure feeling that I already know the rules of the game, and without knowing how things will turn out in the end if I work as hard as I should. I have some ideas about how things theoretically should go with mothering, based on my reflections on my faith, what seems intuitively right, and what seems to have worked for others. But there’s a great big cloud of unknowns surrounding all of this, because the results of my efforts are not as clear as getting a good grade on a test, and do not come as quickly. This is difficult for me, as someone who has a record of giving up on things that do not come quite as easily to me as academics. I’d like to hope that motherhood is shaping my personality for the better in this area, since I don’t think I’ll be giving up on it any time soon.

Mothering, while certainly a vocation that has filled my life with an underlying joy and peace, has also filled my life with so many little sacrifices and sufferings that are completely for the good of another. Yes, I have been doing some things here and there for the good of others much throughout all my life, but it’s been sporadic at best, limited to volunteer commitments or spontaneous goodwill towards friends and family. Motherhood, on the other hand, has put this cute (and sometimes not so cute) little person right smack down in front of me, 24-7, and much of the time I’m the only one who can provide what he needs in terms of survival, emotional support, recreation, and mobility. If I don’t do it, no one else will. In a sense, the structure of motherhood creates sacrifices that are more readily, and hopefully, more charitably made because the need is so immediate and so compelling. And for the most part, no one throws a robe around your shoulders and commends you at an official ceremony for all your hard work and dedication to furthering goodness in the world. Talk about a perfect recipe for holiness! (In all fairness, I do have to say that my husband, as well as friends and family, give me a good amount of encouragement along the way–little thank you’s and pick me ups that keep me going in the day to day life of mommyhood. I think what I’m reflecting on here is more the world at large’s recognition of the accomplishments of motherhood.)

I been pondering what a graduation speaker might say to me after these nine months of mothering Gabriel. I decided that writing a graduation speech free of cliche and worn-out sayings is task that I don’t have time for at the moment, and besides, I don’t think nine months after having my first child qualifies me as any sort of distinguished expert, even in giving advice to myself! So I’ve gone another route, in the spirit of one of the graduation speakers at UVA who went through a list of thought provoking statistics. Here are my own, roughly calculated, mommy statistics. In the past nine months, I have:

...changed (& washed & dried) 1,500 diapers
...nursed Gabriel for 700 hours
...walked 270 miles with baby G in the sling or stroller
...put Gabriel in and out of his carseat: 250 times
...watched Gabriel fall asleep: 1,000 times
...run after squirrels to amuse Gabriel: 60 times
...laughed at Gabriel laughing, smiling, or doing something adorable: so many times
...reflected in joy and awe with Michael, “I can’t believe we have a son!”: countless times

Here's to many more!

Where Gabriel (and Michael) took me for Mother's Day...

2007-05-15T21:35:00.000-04:00

...well, we did take a little hike to Cunningham Falls too, beyond the Visitor's Center.

Attempt at Geddes

2007-04-29T07:52:00.000-04:00

The cherry tree in front of our house has dumped approximately 2 tons of blossoms on our front porch. Gabriel wasn't entirely thrilled to be sitting in them... although this appears to be a little giggle, it's actually the beginning of a shriek! I was discovering pink blossoms in Gabriel's diaper all afternoon....!

Nature baby

2007-04-25T11:42:00.000-04:00

Here's Daddy and son on our first adventure in the woods with the hiking backpack. Hopefully there will be some more before he's too big to ride on our backs!

The 411 on Gabriel

2007-04-23T13:24:00.000-04:00

My little son is not so little any more. Every once in a while I look at his face and he’s got a little I’m-a-little-boy-just-ready-to-get-into-wonderful-amounts-of-trouble kind of grin, and I marvel at how much he has grown is such a short time. Here’s a photo of him standing at our coffee table. He has gone through several “playing” phases already though he’s only 8 months old. First I noticed him looking at the mobile toys, then swatting aimlessly at them, then grabbing them, and all of a sudden one day he pulled the whole mobile over, so into the closet it went. Next he loved containers and shiny objects, no matter what the type (those are still pretty amusing, actually), and now he has moved on to anything he can pull himself up onto. This includes the dishwasher and dryer doors, chairs, the toilet, his diaper pail, the coffee table, the sofa, the piano bench, and even my pant legs when I am attempting to cook dinner! We spend a lot of time “toddling” around the house together, him holding onto my hands and leading us where he wants to go–usually towards an electric outlet, power cord, or wherever Daddy is. In the past week he has started “conversing” with people... he says “ba”, waits, then I say “ba”, he laughs, says “ba-ba”, waits, I say “ba-ba”.... so far no sounds connected to objects/people as far as I can tell, but I’m just waiting for his first word to be “brown bear, brown bear” after his favorite Eric Carle book. He now has a little training potty, mostly just so he can be used to its presence. He sits on it (fully clothed and diapered) and we read books...I figured it would just be a getting-used-to-it kind of thing for now. He also has a full-blown case of separation anxiety almost any time he is away from me and I am still in sight. If I’m not in sight, he can play happily for a while with whoever is interacting with him. But if I appear, he becomes Mr. I’m-so-pathetic-and-needy-I-want-Mommy-right-now-eeeeee! Hopefully it’s just a phase...

Why such things should not exist

2007-04-17T19:59:00.000-04:00

Regarding the VA Tech gunman:

"Several Korean youths who knew Cho Seung Hui from his high school days said he was a fan of violent video games, particularly Counterstrike, a hugely popular online game published by Microsoft, in which players join terrorism or counterterrorism groups and try to shoot each other using all types of guns." The Washington Post, April 17

I know video games are not the root cause of the tragic turn to evil that this young guy made, but surely allowed for a certain amount of desensitization to violence.

Can't say much more. It's all too sad. Many prayers for the Tech community and those who have lost loved ones.

Good friends, good times

2007-04-17T12:10:00.000-04:00

Michael, Gabriel, and I just spent the weekend up at Deep Creek Lake in MD with the other couples who are part of the Teams of Our Lady movement. (Just a short note of description: this is a Catholic organization dedicated to fostering the spirituality of married couples and their families, that originated in the Cathedral of Notre Dame in France in the 1940s, hence the Teams of "Our Lady" name. It consists of monthly group meetings with the other couples, where we do prayer, sharing, and a book study on Catholic or marital topics of interest. During the rest of the month each couple commits to a variety of "endeavors" like praying together and with the children, reading Scripture daily, and meeting together at least once a month for an official "sit down" to discuss the state of the marriage, any issues that might need to be addressed, etc. It's a great thing and has helped Michael and I a lot as we have begun our married life together!)

This weekend was our yearly "retreat" together. I put this in quotes because it was not your traditional meditative, silent, long-walks-in-the-woods, type retreat. We went with seven couples and eight children under the age of two, because most of these babies have never been away overnight from Mom and Dad and weren't ready to start that quite yet, but we still wanted to try to "get away". We were housed in a beautiful lake house free, thanks to the generosity of our "mentor couple" in Teams, and I think we really did "retreat" a bit! I think we all went with very low expectations of how much we would actually be able to do, other than just hang around together. The kids were bumping around the living room during the talks, there were babies crying intermittently, but for the most part, we were able to do our group discussions, activities, and even allow each couple a little bit of alone time without their children. Meals were chaotic, the weather was a bit gloomy, and Mass involved synthesizer "smooth jazz" as prelude music, but it was a good weekend despite all that. Mostly I feel blessed to be a part of such an awesome group of young couples who feel like my new extended family.

In the age of the IPOD

2007-04-10T21:01:00.000-04:00

Any thoughts from my humble blog readers on these two articles? The first seems like a search for authenticity, though it might be a bit...overboard? Love the shout out to Santiago de Compostela, though!

Some of you may have seen the second in Sunday's Washington Post Magazine, about violinist Joshua Bell playing in the Metro. (It even hit European newspapers secondhand on Monday!) Michael found parallels between this and people's ability to disregard God (who is Beauty himself) in the midst of everyday busy-ness.

Belgians Hail the Middle Ages

Pearls Before Breakfast

Christ is Risen! Happy Easter!

2007-04-09T15:16:00.000-04:00

I know, I know, the blogging has been sparse. There have been other projects afoot and Baby G is increasingly time-consuming... no more typing away at the keyboard while we nurse! After he ripped a couple keys off the laptop, computer time became an "only when he's sleeping" activity.

The Baby Swim Debacle

2007-03-14T16:07:00.000-04:00

(This is a repeat from my other private blog, but it was such an experience I thought I'd share.)

So. It is now approximately two hours since The Baby Swim Debacle, and Gabriel is passed out upstairs, hopefully recovering and forgetting the awfulness that was Baby Swim. Let's just say that the first thing I did after he fell asleep was call Fairfax County Parks and Rec and withdraw from the class. I think my $75.o0 is much better spent on day-passes to the pool when we can go ourselves. Why, you ask? Well, I had a sinking feeling when we entered the women's locker room and all the morning swim high schoolers were still in there getting dressed. Thus it was very crowded, and the loud chatter was echoing through the locker room, and there was really not much room for changing a baby. On top of that, there was not one but many hairdryers going. Let's just say if I am upstairs drying my hair and Michael is holding Gabriel downstairs and I turn on the hairdryer, he freaks. So the uber-hairdryerness in the locker room was already stressing him out so he didn't want me to put him down to put the swim diaper on him. So I did that as fast as I could and headed out to the pool. It seemed quieter in there; he cheered up. We wandered slowly into the water. Things were okay. He seemed tentative, but interested, especially when we got a little floating duckie to play with. But then the class started. Our instructor: a large, loud, older, bearded man in a big black wetsuit, who wanted us to sing Old-Macdonald-esque songs over the crying of many of the class participants. Um, nothing against beards, but who thinks that a huge guy in a black shiny wetsuit singing nursery songs and waving his arms over his head is not going to freak out little babies?? Then, on top of all that, right next to the baby swim class a granny Water Aerobics class started up, complete with instructor with microphone and bouncy rock music for the ladies. At this point, I think Gabriel started to get unhappy about all the echoing noise and so the new experience of the water was just not cool any more; he disintegrated. Many of the other babies were doing this too; their parents were just smiling and bouncing through the water. I was slightly unsettled by this. I've been responsive to Gabriel's cries throughout his life for every other reason; why should I not respond when he is a bit scared and overwhelmed during his first pool experience? So we got out of the water. Lesson learned... I think the baby swim thing will be something I check out in a library book and go through at our own pace, slowly, minus most of the noise and the scary instructor.

Time enough

2007-03-09T13:35:00.000-05:00

“A second basic teresian [St. Teresa of Avila] principle is that growth in prayer does not depend on a person’s immediate situation. We tend to suppose that if only we could find an ideal community, be it marital or religious or clerical, if only we could locate in another setting, if only we had a different superior or set of associates, if only we had more money (or less), we would skyrocket in prayer. Not so, says the foundress, for ‘the time is always propitious for God to grant His great favours to those who truly serve him’.”

“While St. Teresa was well acquainted with methods of meditation and wished her young nuns to be instructed in them, she emphatically insisted that the primary need for beginners is not to find the ideal method but to do God’s will from moment to moment throughout the day.”

~Fr. T. Dubay, The Fire Within

Bedtime for Gabriel has the potential to be an enjoyable parenting interlude–splashing in the bath, putting on his pj’s, reading Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, nursing him peacefully off to sleep, and then slipping downstairs for some evening quiet time. Bedtime also has the potential to be somewhat agonizing. If bath time ends in tears for whatever reason, putting on baby’s pj’s seems more like medieval torture than dressing. If he’s so upset from putting on his pj’s, reading a book just prolongs the agony, so we go straight to nursing, even though he’s a bit hyper. Sometimes this brings on the blessed calm of baby sleep; sometimes it doesn’t. Last night we nursed, read books, nursed, crawled around on the floor, sang songs, nursed, watched cars out the window, nursed again, watched the cars a little bit more, and finally nursed to sleep. That whole process took about two hours, I think. I couldn’t really bear to look at the clock and think about the precious “me time” that seemed to be slipping away.

Tonight Gabriel fell asleep in my arms while I was sitting on the floor in his bedroom, surrounded by the books I was attempting (not very successfully) to get him to read and all the little stuffed animals he found much more interesting than the books. I was far from the laptop and all the enticing blogs I love to read and all the library books I’m browsing through. Usually this would drive me, a perpetually-doing-or-thinking-something type of person, pretty crazy. But sitting there in the dim light, looking down upon Gabriel’s peaceful sleeping face, it occurred to me that pretty soon I wouldn’t be able to hold him in my arms as he goes to sleep–he’s already getting so big. There is time enough, I reflected, for books and blogs and to-do’s; Gabriel’s baby days are here only for a relatively short moment and I really ought to appreciate them more.

Time enough. The life of a new mom is supposedly turned-upside-down-and-inside-out crazy; I admit I have lamented this often, particularly regarding my inability to find quiet time to meditate and pray, as I have adjusted to being on call for all the needs of another little person 24-7. I brought this up to Michael (again) after a particularly difficult couple of days, and he reminded me (again) of the quotes above from Fire Within. To me, they suggest that God always provides the time we need to grow close to Him in prayer; he always provides exactly those blessings and joys, as well as those crosses and the struggles, that we need to grow in intimacy with Him. All that remains for us is to embrace them and seek His will in them. Although I think I already grasped this intellectually, it is an entirely new perspective with which to orient my heart’s response to the events of my day-to-day life.

A few examples: I find it particularly difficult to drag myself out of my warm bed to walk the halls with Gabriel when he’s fidgety and doesn’t want to sleep; rather than just gritting my teeth and bearing it, it occurred to me that perhaps someone needed some prayers right then and God was using my little wiggler to get me up and praying. So the other night we prayed the Joyful mysteries of the Rosary as we roamed through the quiet house. Another struggle I’ve been facing is going to Mass on Sundays: it is no longer the quiet, insight-filled hour that it used to be pre-baby. But I realized that God designed this whole motherhood thing and so He probably would be quite happy with me offering my mere presence with Gabriel (distracted though it may be) as my worship in the liturgy. The funny thing is when I did this and stopped worrying about what I was or was not “getting out of” Mass, I found that God allowed the whole experience to actually become much more peaceful and prayerful.

I think for much of my life I’ve been in a hurry to finish whatever it is I’m doing so I can go on to the next thing. The near future has always distracted me from immersing myself in the present moment; such preoccupation impoverishes everything, whether it be work, study, recreation, or time spent with others. I once glanced through a book called The Sacrament of the Present Moment–the title is all I remember now, but even that is significant. If I am able to live in each moment as though it were an outward sign of God, of His presence, and His will, there will certainly be time enough.

The blog lives!

2007-03-05T12:14:00.000-05:00

After a brief hiatus to finish up my translation work, I'm back... to celebrate my return here's ten things (in no particular order) which made this mother smile in February and the beginning of March:

1. Gabriel is now sans leg casts (although he is sporting some spiffy orthopedic shoes for a while) and his feet and legs look much straighter, perfect for all the standing and walking(!) he's doing while hanging onto our hands.

2. Yummy homemade Italian bread made by Michael, our baker-in-residence extraordinaire.

3. SIX snow days in a row = SIX days of Michael being home to play with Gabriel and I.

4. A surprise trip to the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, engineered by Michael. We had lunch there and I got to take some quiet time to pray while he played with Gabriel. Thanks, Daddy! :)

5. A new "day-plan" that is helping me order my days here at home... more on this as I get at least a few weeks into it!

6. A sunny 60-degree Friday that allowed baby G and I to head to the park for a walk, where we made friends with a nice Korean woman and her little dog. Gabriel got to pet (and shriek gleefully at) a doggie for the first time, and I think I helped make this particular lady feel a little bit less lonely for a little while.

7. Finding out Fr. Hudgins, our Parochial Vicar, has a website with all of his homilies online! They're really enthusiastic and inspirational... Check them out if you get a chance.

8. Several weekday lunch dates with family...it's nice to be close enough for spontaneous get-togethers.

9. Gabriel smacking his lips like a toothless old man (although he does have one sharp little tooth now) and going "buh buh buh buh..."

10. A Prarie Home Companion and the Thistle & Shamrock Show on NPR.

Eat your heart out, Wahoos

2007-02-08T19:05:00.000-05:00

Our son's first UVA gear experience... all those VT folks must be jealous that the cutest baby in town is rooting for the 'Hoos!

PS~ I'm currently working on doing a translation for one of my profs at the Institute...takes up most of my writing time, so look for more in depth blogging at the end of February! I'll try to stick some photos up every once in a while, though.

It's 9:35!!

2007-02-05T14:42:00.000-05:00

Gabriel and one of his most beloved objects. Why does he love the alarm clock so, you ask? It's all about the SHINY numbers. Anything that either glows or reflects light and he becomes entranced and reaches, zombie-like, towards the SHIIINNNYYY...

Poor baby

2007-01-31T21:35:00.000-05:00

Gabriel has had a case of "metatarsus adductus", basically feet that curve inwards a little bit too much, to match his little bowed baby legs, ever since he came out of the womb. We've been going to physical therapy to try to stretch them out, but we finally had to just bite the bullet and put his feet and legs in casts for a few weeks to straighten them out. At first Gabriel thought his casts were fun new toys--he seemed to be elated when we came home, laughing and bouncing and playing. He was less excited about them when bathtime came and they didn't come off, but he slept okay so I don't think he was too upset by them. That was Monday. Tuesday it was my turn bathe him and the darn things can't get wet....and they did. A lot. Oops. So we had to pull them off. He loved this and spent the rest of the evening clinging to his feet and gurgling happily. Then we had to go back Wednesday morning to get them put on again. Lots of hysterical crying this time as he lost his legs' freedom for the second time. He was onto our schemes and lots of kicking and screaming ensued. I felt so sad. Hard to explain to a baby temporary discomfort for long-term good. But there was hope--a little guy in the office with us who was about 18 months old was there to get a cast off his arm. He was happy, talking to his mom, playing with the toys in the office, until the cast had to come off. He wasn't afraid of the scissors they cut it off with...nope, he was sad that the cast was gone. He just kept staring at his arm and turning it back and forth, whimpering and looking around forlornly until the nurse gave him the empty shell of the cast back, at which point he immediately became completely happy. So there's hope for Gabriel. He's already figured out how to kick wildly with the casts during diaper changes and I think my forearms are actually bruised from it. I'll post a photo when I snap one tomorrow.

Of squirrels and snacks

2007-01-28T13:43:00.000-05:00

If you happen over our way any time in the near future and see squirrels lying scattered about the courtyard with bloated stomachs and a look of dazed satisfaction in their little beady eyes, it's our fault. Yesterday we provided the fixings for a scavenger's feast: a whole bag of Buttered Caramel Toffee and Almond Popcorn, open on our porch. I think we were hoping to get rid of it in a more...um...environmentally friendy way than sending to the landfill in a plastic bag. And maybe we were curious to see just exactly what the neighborhood squirrels would do after having to pick at the meager remains of our neighbor's birdfeeder for most of the winter. Well, the squirrels disposed of the whole bag in less than 12 hours, and this morning we awoke to find them cleaning up the last crumbs off the porch and munching them down as though they hadn't just eaten half a pound of the stuff already. Not much later I was sitting on the couch nursing Gabriel before church when another squirrel bounced onto the porch, sniffed around, then jumped to the windowsill and stood on its hind legs, with front paws up against the window. He just stared at me. I think he was silently pleading for more. More popcorn, that is-- I tried Soy and Flaxseed Cluster Cereal from Trader Joe's, which I couldn't stand, but it sat untouched on the railing of the porch for a week until the rain washed it away. Guess the squirrels have a soft spot for junk food too.

Long time, no blog

2007-01-26T07:57:00.000-05:00

Here I am again, back in the saddle for a little post on the old blog. Typical excuse, I know, but we really did have a busy couple of weeks. After the Christmas holiday and finally getting the new house in quasi-order, I decided I needed to actually do some house chores. Bathrooms, laundry, and vacuuming. Which I learned takes about a week to actually complete, with breaks for nursing, baby naps, walks outside so Gabriel can get a change of scenery and not become Mr. Uber-Fuss, and meal preparation, with Gabriel grabbing at all the fun and interesting things I am chopping and sometimes hitting the jackpot and getting to gnaw on some of it (like the apple above). Seriously, if we lived in a house with more than two bathrooms right now, I would make some of them off-limits. I don't mind cleaning them--actually it's rather satisfying, especially cleaning the mirrors--but it is just so tricky to entertain/hold/pacify Gabriel while contorting myself into all sorts of strange positions to, say, bend over and scrub the tub, that it is sometimes a daunting task that gets put off again and again!

The next week was filled with lots of "Christmas gifts" to give--we gave "coupons" for lunch dates, movie afternoons with popcorn and cider, etc. And I discovered once again that one "little" activity can take an entire day when it is interspersed with Gabriel, even if it is a fun one. This week I had the blessed experience of going to the dentist for three days in a row for a cleaning, and then two days of cavity filling, one day without a local anesthetic and the next day with--except the dentist didn't wait for it to kick in before drilling, despite my comment that I could still pretty much feel everything. After going through labor without meds I thought I could handle anything, but for some reason this cavity drilling was just awful. To top it all off, my mouth went totally numb as he was finishing up and stayed that way for four hours! Oh well. My mom got a chance to bond with Gabriel in the waiting room of the dentist's office for three days in a row, in any case, and I think Gabriel enjoyed the change in cartaker for a little while. Be back soon!

Sitting...! (Almost)

2007-01-09T20:08:00.000-05:00

Gabriel spent some time playing while quasi-sitting today. He would sit for a few minutes and then lurch forward onto his stomach, at which point he would flail his arms and legs wildly trying to scoot towards his toys and grunting. No luck yet...I'll keep you posted!

Be still and know

2007-01-08T09:21:00.001-05:00

A talk I heard at a Catholic “Mothers Group” a few months ago has been slowly filtering through my brain until it was drawn to the surface again by a comment Michael made to me the other night. Gabriel has been getting increasingly wiggly when we sit down to have dinner, and rather than sit calmly on our laps and play with a toy, he insists on standing precariously on our legs (a feat for which he still needs support), leaning over the table, and burrowing his face into the toy/napkin/shiny object with which he is currently enthralled. Not only does this make it impossible for the person holding him to eat, it also has the pleasant effect of forcing out any lingering burps and spit-ups which might be floating around in his stomach. Suffice it to say, meals of late have not been the peaceful, idyllic family moments one might hope they would be. Reflecting on Gabriel’s behavior, Michael commented that we’re going to have to figure out a way to teach Gabriel to be still, to be silent, to contemplate, in age-appropriate ways, of course, and not necessarily at dinnertime, but certainly in the context of prayer time and church visits.

All this brought back to me a quote the speaker at the Mothers Group shared with us from Josef Pieper’s Leisure, The Basis of Culture: "The greatest menace to our capacity for contemplation is the incessant fabrication of tawdry empty stimuli which kill the receptivity of the soul." Since the topic was the music and media that we expose our children to, he commented that he himself did not own a television, as he wished to keep his family away from the empty stimuli that it provides. Perhaps inevitably a mother asked, “What about VeggieTales? Or educational TV? That’s okay, right?” The speaker replied that although VeggieTales may have a moral message, and Christian content which is good, the vehicle for this content is still “tawdry, empty stimuli”–in other words, the method of delivery is also problematic. Full of loud sounds, raucous singing, quick scenes, silly humor, etc, VeggieTales is not quite designed to build a child’s capacity for contemplation; rather, it may contribute to the short-attention-span disease which plagues so many children today, which is not only detrimental to their ability to learn but also more importantly to their ability to pray and thus to relate to God.

His point certainly got me thinking. In the context of the talk, “contemplation” doesn’t mean floating-off-into-a-sea-of-mental-nothingness for relaxation purposes. It means consciously, lovingly, putting oneself into the presence of the God who gave and continues to give us life. This is, in effect, what prayer should be, which is basically a “dress rehearsal” for what heaven’s going to be all about. Eternal, joyful adoration of God along with the whole communion of saints and hopefully everyone we’ve loved here on earth. And the only way we can even begin to contemplate in such a manner is if the “receptivity” of our soul is fine-tuned. I can only imagine that one whose soul is “receptive” would, among other things, be able appreciate beauty in all its forms, particularly in the created world, would be highly sensitive to (and responsive to) the joys and sufferings of other people, and would be open to discerning God’s will for them through Scripture as well as the events of their lives.

It seems avoiding television may be one way to nurture Gabriel’s ability to contemplate and be still. (For us that is pretty much a no-brainer since we don’t have a TV.) I’ve spent time thinking more about other ways to do this, I’ve realized that teaching him this will require learning how to do it myself–to allow for silence in our day to day lives and resist the temptation to fill every moment with words, narration, music, movement, and other forms of stimulation. We’ve spent long moments looking at the squirrels scurrying through the courtyard, feeling the texture of different objects around the house, and quietly playing with toys. For myself I’ve tried to spend less time Googling and more time reading worthwhile books; less time talking and more time listening (in daily conversations and in prayer); less time adjusting things around the house and more time dwelling in it. It seems like a big jump from a rather everyday “secular” things to the much more profound matter of how our souls are formed and how we relate to God. But that’s the way life works–in reality, nothing is “secular” if that word is used to mean not pertaining to our relationship with God.

Ringing in the New Year

2007-01-01T08:27:00.000-05:00

I have rounded a bend in the road of life, I think, marked by the nature of our New Year's celebration. Our New Year's celebration consisted of a dinner with family, a movie, and going to bed. I happened to look at the clock when we were turning in, and said "Oh, look, sweetie, it's midnight. Happy New Year!" I think Michael made a comment about the clock being five minutes fast, and that it was not yet in fact midnight, but I think I was falling asleep by that point so things are a bit fuzzy. The funny thing is that I didn't mind any of this one bit...I am either officially "old" or perhaps just the tired mommy of a baby who still wakes throught the night.

A quiet moment

2006-12-30T21:22:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I just wish I could hear his internal monologue as he discovers the world...

Christmas morning times 5

2006-12-29T08:30:00.000-05:00

I’ve had more “Christmas morning” moments in the past couple weeks than I think I’ve had in the past few years. When I was younger Christmas morning was filled with the surprise and awe of awakening to the piles of gifts that had materialized under our tree overnight, as well as the gleeful anticipation of what could be hidden under that wrapping. That’s worn off over the years, although gifts are still fun, and I found myself this year with a new kind of “Christmas morning” feeling: awe and gratitude at all that has been given to me, in so many varied ways. I’ll just give the three big ones (keepin’ it Trinitarian, folks!): help moving into our new house, two families filled with joy and generosity, and of course our little son.

Word to the wise: when moving with an infant, ask for lots and lots of help, particularly if you are the primary caregiver to said infant and expect to get any packing done at all. I think I packed a total of three boxes all on my own...and that doesn’t count the help I got actually acquiring the boxes themselves. I don’t think I actually ever asked for help, but we were overwhelmed by it, and thanks to everyone who came, we actually made it out of our apartment on time. My mom came over and quite professionally packed up our entire kitchen, and my dad played Santa, surpising us a few days before Christmas by packing up our whole living room for us while we were out at Michael’s Advent Concert and YA commitment Mass. On top of all that, he came back to help us move furniture with the Uhaul, along with my father- and brother-in-law and a wonderful friend who I’ll name here as “Juan Mas”. My father-in-law recently commented to Michael that it takes humility to receive a gift. I think I learned a good dose of humility on that Wednesday that we moved...on top of taking care of a baby, I was also down and out with a bad cold. I’m so used to being in control, and I had to humbly admit that not only did I not need to control the situation, because other people were doing it for me, I had to even more humbly admit that I couldn’t control it even if I wanted to, and just had to receive the great gift of help that so many people were offering to our little family.

I won’t go on for too long about #2 and #3, as Gabriel is wiggling on my lap and I will never post this on the blog if I keep writing. I have to just note that coming home to two warm houses filled with good food, pretty decorations, and great company felt extra good considering the chaos that our own home was in. And last but certainly not least, little Gabriel. He’s quite the “infant” now, and no longer a “newborn”. He’s become Mr. Grabby, wanting to snatch anything that passes his line of vision and stuff it into his mouth. He also likes to talk quite a bit, particularly in church or in the Eucharistic Chapel. The other day as we walked into Mass at the St. Luke’s chapel, I asked if he could hold off on the charismatic prayer until after Mass was over. Fortunately/unfortunately he just couldn’t hold back his exuberance to see Jesus and babbled and talked during the whole Mass in that little echo-filled chapel!