If babies could talk

Oh, the stories they'd tell!

Yep, they wake us at all hours of the night, they need to be cared for and reassured but on the other hand when you take a certain perspective, you understand very quickly that they'd be saying' "What the heck!"

- Meal-time: "Oh, great. I get to eat something that looks like it's been squished under your shoe"
- Temperature taking: "You're stickin' that where? To get what?"
- swimming: "When I wet my pants you get cranky. I get nice new dry pants and you immediately get me soggy! What the heck! What was wrong with dry? FYI - it's friggin' cold!"
- diaper changes: "Really? I'm not a cake. Quit frosting my butt like a cake."
- Speaking of cake: "Useless humans. You've already smashed up the crayons and spread them like everywhere"

I like traffic lights

I like traffic lights

I like traffic lights

I like traffic lights 

but only when they're green"

Today's meditation, yes today's meditation comes by way of Monty Python. How's that for a meditation?

I love my family. I love my in-laws. I love the state of Texas. I love my job. I love my monkeyboy.

And yet, working in the same space my family lives, from my in-laws home, living in weather 2 degrees cooler than the surface of the sun, not having an actual office from which to conduct business and living with hormonal tweeners brings anxiety levels all of it's own.

How do I deal with it and where is Jesus in all this mess? Oh, most definitely its a mess. It's unsettling and it's raw and rough. I most definitely don't like it. It doesn't feel right. It feels like wearing underwear two sizes too small. You know it's there and it's pinching and chaffing sensitive areas making it tough to breathe.

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me - Psalm 22:1

and yet, in the midst of this I can still take solace in the same psalm that says in a few verses later

For he has not spurned or disdained the misery of this poor wretch, did not turn away from me, but heard me when I cried out - Psalm 22:25

Monty Python and Psalm 22, who else is going to give you a meditation like that???

My family is bat crap crazy!

Those were the first words out of husband's mouth this morning.

Well actually it was, "Good morning gorgeous!" which just wrapped me in a blanket of warmth this chilly morning. I never thought anyone could love me as much as my husband does me and I wonder constantly, "Why would anyone love me??", but he does and I'm just grateful. Sometimes it's best not to wonder and just go straight to gratitude.

His second sentence was the today's blog title. 

Mom and dad got moved into assisted living on Monday. It's been stressful for all involved. He said he has a hard time being upset with his dad because he is just bat crap crazy at this point. He was an MP in the Army and the Director for medicare fraud in his career so he's been used to people taking his orders. He's had a hard time adjusting to an assisted living place. On day 2 he got moved into the memory care lock down unit because he took off out the door and couldn't explain to anyone where he was or where he was going by the time they caught him walking the streets. He's been angry and verbally abusive to mom so having him in lock-down is probably a good thing.

You might recall husband went down there last year to try to get them in assisted living but everyone fought him on it so in the end he put it all back in God's hands and came back home. So mom says yesterday "we probably should have gone into assisted living a few years ago" - You think? What a novel idea!

Well he has a hard time being upset with her too because as he said, "She's just crap crazy! The bats are coming!", which made me giggle.

I suppose it's good that we can laugh at the situation.

Well the interesting part of the situation for me came when he explained the God moment that happened:

Dad gets up every morning at 4 am. He has for years. We'd been praying for this whole situation of course and for moving day because we knew it would be stressful. Moving day came and the movers showed up to box up and load up the furniture. Dad was asleep. He didn't wake up until close to 8am by which time he wondered, "what the @#?@?". It all went pants at that point! Dad was up in arms why people were in his house taking his stuff. So as they calmed him, the movers moved the bedroom and boxed up that area because he was now out of bed! How convenient! 

It was chaotic and stressful but it was beautifully orchestrated in only a way God is able to do. I recall in each of our moves, it happened relatively quickly. There wasn't a whole lot of advanced notice and it always seemed a bit chaotic but in the chaos there was always this beautiful orchestrations of events that you just can't plan. That's where trust is so important. Trusting God's plan for our lives doesn't mean that things will turn out like we want or will be stress free but it does mean that he will be there in the midst of it. Although it was stressful in the midst of it, husband said it was the best thing that could have happened because everything got moved so easily, even the temper tantrum.

Happy Anniversary

We had a bit of an accident yesterday. We were suppose to go biking. This was how we were going to celebrate our 17th anniversary, that and dinner. Nothing really turned out how I thought it would. I suppose you could say that's a commentary on my life, marriage and family.

One of the buckles securing the bike rack had a major fail and the bikes came tumbling, sliding off the roof, down the back window, crashing glass all over my precious monkeyboy and Peach pit. He sat motionless taking in the situation. She went into full crisis mode complete with shaking, crying and associated hysterics. Papa pulled over as instructed (because my crisis mode is to go by the book, assess the situation, get everyone out of danger and call emergency). The police arrived, stopped traffic and moved the bikes off of the freeway.

Miracle #1 No one was injured (Peach had a small cut) and here I mean no one in the falling bike path, moving cars and all

Miracle #2 No other accidents occurred

Miracle #3 Somehow none of the bikes was damaged and we made it back home with kids, bikes and a renewed sense of gratitude

Perhaps I've mentioned before how I never planned to get married. I didn't think it'd happen and I was ok with that. Trust me when I say that I was not even remotely attracted to my now husband. He wasn't my type but when I went to hug him goodbye at a get together, I just knew. It hit me like the bike rack slamming into the rear window and everything changed.

We were marginal Catholics, and suffering from severe lack of catechesis but nonetheless we married in the church and proceeded to live our birth controlled marital state with a complete carefree attitude. After all we weren't ready for kids. We were "good" people, but the thing is how do  you measure good if you don't have a yardstick? We didn't have a yardstick but we had a notion, an idea, a generally acceptable practical attitude right? Everyone else we knew was on birth control and only freaks did anything else. There was nothing wrong with abortion in my view and so it went until 5 years later we got pregnant with monkeyness and we asked:

"What the hell did we do before we had kids?"

I'm sure we did something. In fact I know we did, but none of it mattered. None of it. It paled in comparison to this little ball of fur with wide eyes looking innocently back at me just like he did when shattered glass rained down all over him. It's that innocence that blows me away. My kids, a decade into their lives, are better catechized than I was when I married. They know why marriage can only ever be between a man and a woman. They know what is good and how it's measured. They know what birth control is and abortion too. They've seen the scared and frightened women walking into abortion offices. No one goes there happy except those who show up to pray for the women, the doctors, the workers. These are amazing people, profoundly saddened for the situation but immensely joyful and peaceful. Only in a Christian can the marriage of those two polar opposites make any sense.   

My life is summed up in our two kids. They are the very best of me, and yet it hasn't turned out at all like I planned and I planned, but I didn't plan for this. I never planned to go from barely Catholic, mostly agnostic totally pro-choice, to fervent in my love for Christ and everything else loving him demands. Living a life in Christ doesn't mean it'll be easy but it does mean when it all comes crashing in all around you, you'll find the courage, strength, peace and grace to make it through. "When" not "if". 

"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you."

"When you walk through fire, you will not be burned."

"When", my absolute favorite word in the bible, "when".

Good help is so hard to get

Working from home has it's advantages:

- easy commute

- cheap labor from house elves

However, I found out why cheap house elf labor is not such a good thing. I had a teleconference yesterday and had the Peach elf refill my cup of coffee. She saunters back 20 minutes later with my coffee, (still hot - amazing those house elves). I take a sip and about spew it right back out. As I was still on a call I couldn't discuss the poisoned coffee trick. After the call I peeked my head out of the office and she perks up "Did you like your coffee!!!!"

That's when I realized maybe she wasn't trying to poison me and she continues "I couldn't get the milk so I used buttermilk. I hope that was ok."

Bingo!

Lots of them! Unfortunately we made a rule and taxis don't count. Dang it!

Awww

Have I mentioned that I travel a lot as part of my mission? Look what I found in my luggage?

There are some days that I am super proud of myself.

Today is one of those days.

I have to admit though, that it's not so much me I'm proud of but rather the fact that something happened through me. That's awesome. Read on...

We ran an errand earlier today with the kids and as Papa yelled back at the kids because they once again had their feet all over the car, I tacked on a little homework assignment, an essay on their total lack of respect for things, each other, blah blah blah. Oh, the theatrics from the Peach who had finished today's assignments yesterday! It was ON! She thought she had a free day today because she had done her homework. So she protested, "WHAT?!? THAT'S NOT FAIR! I DO..."

So I calmly retorted "Thank you. That will be two pages from you and one from you monkeyboy." - The response fell quite silent from there on out except that Monkey can never leave her alone. So he bragged and rubbed her nose in the fact that he only had to do 1 page.

As we arrived home I added to his homework to find not 1 but two bible passages that speaks to him about his behavior in the car and to explain those passages and how he did or did not live that out.

About an hour later Papa comes down to tell me Peachy found the tiniest notebook she could find to write her essay and he disabused her of the idea that a 1 page essay from that would be ok. Then he says, "Well I don't know about her because she's just sitting there but at least Monkeyboy is reading the Bible." 

I'm sure any number of pastors would disapprove of my assignment but they can just suck it! I'm highly amused with myself.

Why I need kids

1. I have a lot of dodgy tv shows that I like to watch. Kids make me rethink my need to watch shows that I don't like to let them watch : Burn Notice, Psych, Touch, basically anything but Disney

2. I love to play video games. Kids are a good excuse to go buy games. I caved and bought skylanders. It's AWESOME!

3. I need house elves. House elves are good for finding shoes, sunglasses, cleaning bathrooms, washing dishes, sweeping and I only pay $10/week and THEY think they are getting a deal!

4. They save me money because I learn all sorts of things like how to make duct tape flowers. (Oh, spoiler alert, mom is getting a dozen duct tape flowers for Mother's day.) I saved $80 on flowers.

5. I need to laugh. Last night in the middle of saying my prayers I hear over the Harry Potter audio disc that the kids play at night before they go to bed, Peachy singing her little heart out. No idea what she was belting out but it was super cute.

6. I need reminders that I don't need to take myself so seriously. Monkeyboy and I have been in whoopie cushion challenges. I've been getting him at the most inopportune times so he tried to get me back by putting a whoopie cushion in my bed, except that Papa got it instead.

7. They bring me face to face with God. When I'm cranky or in a foul mood, the first thing the kids pray for is me and that changes my disposition immediately. Just knowing that they reach out to Him in their moment of need for me, well it's humbling.

8. I need to be loved. I need hugs. I need kisses. I think I would soon perish if I didn't get a hug. Seriously, though it's not so much that I need to be loved as I NEED to love. Random people tend not to appreciate my outward displays of affection. My kids don't mind my affection, plus they tend not to call the police when I reach out to hug or kiss them.

9. No amount of charity work or service makes me give as much as giving to a monkey and a peach. 

10. Work sometimes feels like work, you know it can be a chore but most of the time what I do, I really love and it doesn't feel like work. I spend my days and nights arranging stuff for work and I keep asking myself 'when are you going to go to work because you haven't worked yet?'. I do all sorts of work related stuff but it doesn't feel like work. I do what I love. My family is like that. I love being a mom, a wife, a friend because it doesn't feel like work. It feels like home and it wouldn't be home without them in my life.

Get up and make your bed

You just might change the world.

Is anyone else tickled by that line in the Bible? Acts 9:31ish

Peter's passing through regions when he comes across Aeneas who had been confined to bed for 8 years. So he tells him "Aeneas, Jesus Christ heals you. Get up and make your bed."

I keep telling monkeyboy, Jesus wants him to make his bed!

The mass is useless?

"Mom, the mass is so useless."

My response with a smile was: "Yep, sweetie. It sure is!"

It is absolutely useless. Here I quite agree with my atheist friends. You see there are goods that are pleasurable and there are goods that are good in themselves. We consider things useless when we can't derive any pleasure from them but a thing is eminently useful because it takes us to something for its own sake. 

Now granted one might have a mystical experience at mass but most of the time those never or rarely happen. We may not derive a pleasure from the whole mass experience. If you do, that's great but it's not for the sake of pleasure that the mass exists. It exists for itself and it is a good all on it's own. 

"So sweetie, the mass is indeed useless (in the sense that we may not derive pleasure from it) and because it is useless it is profoundly useful because it points to nothing more than itself, a good. The mass points to God. "

For the sake of your sorrowful party

"Have mercy on us and on the.." Huh???

I was a little tired last night when it occurred to me that I hadn't prayed the Divine Mercy chaplet for the day and it being time for the Divine Mercy Novena, weariness or no weariness I decided to pray it. I guess I was also thinking of Peachy's birthday party today and all the things I needed to do yet, that I substituted 'Party' for 'Passion'.

What the hell did we do before we had kids?

That was what I recall asking my husband after we had monkeyboy. I was reminiscing while having dinner with my nephew and his wife. Is appropriate to say niece? Well as young couples they talked about wanting to have time for themselves and as I recall this is what I wanted when I was in their shoes but I distinctly recall asking "What the hell did we used to do before we had monkeyboy?" to my husband sometime after having monkeyboy.

It seems to me and husband agreed, that whatever it was that we did, it was a complete waste of time. I don't feel like my life really started until after we had kids. We were a couple but we weren't a family until we had the newborn. There are so many things you just never do when you live for yourself. I guess I really didn't know happiness until I held this furry little guy in my arms (he was called monkeyboy back then because he was a hairy little creature)

Before we had kids:

- We chased happiness. I don't know that we ever found it. We had lots of stuff and took nice vacations though.

- We had quiet dinners. I don't really remember any of them. I do however remember every dinner date night I've had with my kids. We do date night once a week. We do something special with just me and each of them. Peach and I have gotten Chinese take out twice. Monkeyboy and I went to the pub. Those dinner dates are precious and I treasure them.

- We went on vacations. London, Dublin, Quebec, Cozumel, Seattle, Florida, Texas, the Boundary Waters, New York, North Dakota. I had fun at each time but never like it is when we've taken the kids. 

- We'd bath together and don't get me wrong as fun as that was and is, it just doesn't come close to the joy of bathing a child. The kids loved bubble baths. They love bubbles like they are this magical source of entertainment. They laugh. They smile and it's infectious. They say the camera adds 10 pounds, well taking a baby a bath takes off ten years. Then there's the scent of freshly bathed baby. There is nothing like it in the world. It's like opening a can of hope and it refreshes the entire world.

Kids just teach you how to play. How to really play. As adults we think we know how to play. We haven't a clue.

Everyday since having had kids, it's like happiness walked in the door and sat on my lap and begged for my attention. Happiness though walked in preceded by sacrifice. Sometimes that's all we see isn't it? We see the sacrifice and say "No, not for me. That's asking a little too much." I think if we'd see the happiness right behind that honking wall of sacrifice we'd say, 'Yeah so what."

You know your Catholic when..

you walk in your sleeping child's room to say goodnight and quietly start to pray "Hail Mary full of grace" and he finishes the rest of the prayer in his sleep.
That was my monkeyboy last night so I guess we must be doing something right.

Monkey Orders

When monkeyboy was baptized, I was less than enthused about the Catholic church and even more so disappointed by the clergy. We were struggling but decided to get him baptized anyway. Even though our pastors were committed holy men setting good examples, we didn't want much to do with the male dominated church and their antiquated practices. This was the attitude I held as we got Monkeyness baptized. That particular Sunday we had a visiting priest from Kenya assisting. We were quietly waiting for the baptism and as he gazed at monkeyboy, I recall him stabbing me in the heart as he asked "Perhaps he will one day be a  priest?"

I can't imagine what daggers I must have shot him. My thought process was "Oh, hell NO. Not MY son. My son will be a fast food worker, mechanic, doctor,  railroad engineer, bricklayer, tattoo parlor worker, etc, anything BUT a priest." We stood in silence and even though he didn't say anything else, I do know he prayed. Drat him and God bless him mightily.

These days I do bring up the idea of vocations and the priesthood with monkeyboy, not that I'm pushing him to be a priest, but I want him to do what God wants for him so I bring up all the possibilities. That's been my thought process, until today. 

He had a recital yesterday. As he was playing his viola, I asked Papa 'maybe we should get him back into piano lessons?'. Although, he has very beautiful and delicate hands, my concern is that he's not likely to have a romantic anything in his life. I feel it's my responsibility to give him options of hobbies and things to do to occupy his time and for stress relief. It's not that I can't see him with a girlfriend. It's that I see it not lasting. He's clueless. The chick will get frustrated with his clueless-ness. She won't be able to change or sway him and subtlety or nagging won't work because he can't change who he is. It'll be too much work; he'll get overwhelmed and check out or she will. I know my boy. I have friends that affirm their vocation every day. Is it possible monkeyboy affirms his vocation already at this early age?

He tipped the balance this morning and sealed his fate. I ask him to bring down his clothes for washing, which includes clean clothes, lego pieces (apparently darth vader's helmet needs washing), kite parts, shoes, clothes still on hangers, chocolate wrappers and anything else he happens to toss in the basket. This isn't the problem. He goes on to sort of sort the clothes, load the washer, empty the drier and bring up the dry clothes for folding.  He starts the drier 20 times claiming clothes are still wet. Yes he's lazy and doesn't want to do the work but it's still not the problem. This morning I traipse through the piles of sorted clothes to unload the drier and bring up clothes and swap clothes from washer to dryer when I discover the lone towel in the washer.

One towel. He washed one towel in the washer. There are piles of clothes and he washed one towel. That did it. He has evoked the wrath of Mama! Immediately I thought, "That's it. I am off the fence. I am praying fervently for a vocation to the priesthood for that boy." No amount of my threatening, rewarding, cajoling, promising beatings will change his laziness. No wife will put up with him and no child will get him to be self-less. He needs the church. He needs people to visit in hospitals, on deathbeds, in prison and administer the sacraments. He needs to be awoken at 2 in the morning to provide shelter for the homeless, or console a widow. He needs to be a spiritual father to a multitude of people. He needs to administer the sacraments because there isn't anyone who needs them more than he does. He needs Jesus Christ. This is a job for Jesus, plus that way he'll have someone to do his laundry for him.

In my vocation as mother I plan on giving St. Monica a run for her prayers. My pleas for his vocation are as desperate as hers were for her sons' conversion. Monkeyboy won't think of anyone else's needs until his love for Jesus compels him to do so. I plan on giving Jesus some fairly compelling arguments and making myself a total nuisance on the subject of Monkey Orders.

Mama is a Psychedelic genius!

We usually have to spatula the kids out of bed in the morning most likely because they stay up watching repeats of Psych episodes so this morning as I watched my favorite sports commentators I had an idea. Papa realized he needed to get kids up and out of bed and I mentioned I thought I knew how I could get them up.

So I started an episode of Psych (I love recording shows and then skipping commercials, awesome!) and turned up the volume. No sooner had the intro ended then Monkeyboy comes BOUNDING down the stair and hops bleary eyed onto the couch.

That is light years ahead of what his normal morning routine usually is. The Peach likes to lounge so she did saunter down but in her own good time.

Facial Friday

The Peach pit is super excited for our date night. I can't remember if it's suppose to be tonight or tomorrow but what I do remember is that the monkeyboy and I went to buy facial stuff after OUR last date night (I took him to the pub for our date night!). So we browsed the facial repertoire of the beauty shop and found, mud.

Yep, mud. Moroccan mud, Algerian mud, Dead Sea mud for exfoliating that dead skin because don't we all need international mud! Monkeyboy noticed, "$30 for MUD!!! I can give her mud from the backyard. Who needs mud to clean skin? You get mad at me every-time I come in the house with muddy shoes."

Yes, it does seem a bit counter-intuitive so I explained, 'Well some girls think this stuff makes them look more beautiful." Ok, see I'm not a frimpy kind of girl so I am at a bit of a loss to try and defend this logic in the first place! To which he responds, "What girls put mud on themselves to make them look more beautiful? And what idiot spends $30 on mud in the first place? And they call us dumb?"

I couldn't agree more buddy so out we walked with chocolate facial stuff because I figured it could double as dessert, which is at least practical.

Oh and lest I forget, the monkeyboy explained this silly mud selling business to the Peach and that we found mud for $30!!! Her response to him was, "Uh (eyebrow's raised and hands on her hips) of course!!!" Then she shook her head and extended her hands like she was talking to a toddler, " It's SPECIAL mud!"

"I CAN"T FIND MY..."

Usually I hollar (now that's a word I haven't used in a while!) that statement out at least 5 times a week, usually more, sometimes less but it's a recurring statement from me and you can just fill in the blank...

-shoes

-socks

-keys

-purse

-coffee cup

-neck pillow (how do I lose a neck pillow?????)

-brush

-laptop (don't ask!)

-wallet

-phone

-ear muffs

-gloves

-scarf

If I own it, I'm pretty sure I've lost it!

However, this week I lost my January Magnificat. It's my little prayer book that has the daily readings for the month and the ever important 3d edition Roman missal changes (the celebrant and people's parts) so I can remember the words to the prayers and follow along. Having just the people's responses for mass in front of me has not been very helpful to me. I enter into mass so disjointed and it's a distraction for me, and I feel like hollaring "I CAN"T FIND MY PRAYERFULNESS " (and yes I am using that in scrabble - fair warning) 

Although I pray along with the priest, I've found I can really enter into the prayer if I indeed follow and throw myself into the prayer (and sometimes I don't necessarily follow along but having them in front of me as a cue to when I'm suppose to chime in = OH SO helpful!!). It helps my prayerful attitude and it allows me to join in the prayer in a deeper way.

Oh and thank you Saint Anthony for retreiving my Magnificat (which my car seat swallowed). It must have been snatched out of my pocket by the un-prayerfullness demons. Thank you for the holy-whappage you gave them and in all honesty I will be super full of prayerfullness the next time I celebrate the holy sacrifice of the mass!

MonkeyBOY

The monkeyboy affirms his manliness on a daily basis. He cannot multitask unless it involves junk food, video games or sports. Honestly, he's completely hopeless. If I ask him to wash dishes, I should also stipulate that he needs to use soap and a scrub brush. If he's to rinse the dishes I must remind him he's to use water to do so, oh and do not interrupt him otherwise the lousy dish washing job he's doing gets delayed like a bill for tax cuts in Congress. However any sports game he watches, he not only visualizes the play, but he can simultaneously comment on it and also on the ticker updates passing across the screen quicker than a congressional pay raise. The grime on dishes however eludes him.

Merry Christmas Monkeyboy!

Monkeyboy had several gifts under the Christmas tree on Christmas day and we enjoyed labeling them. Maybe we enjoyed it a little too much. He didn't have a single present that was relabeled with the same name. There were gifts labeled to:

Monkeyboy (of course)

Rafiki

Big R

Him-Sir

Ramses

Mister

Pooh-pooh-doo-doo
Scrunch Monkey

We decided that next year we'll label his gifts with:

Poopey (stemming from Pooh-pooh-doo-doo)

PPDD (stemming from Pooh-pooh-doo-doo)

The Big P (also from ppdd - this one got me into all sorts of trouble because I said that was my favorite 'because sometimes I also have to take a big p'. Papa was not impressed, neither was PPDD)

and

Mister Mo' Ron