the ultimate gift

At the end of January we observed Catholic Schools Week, one devoted nationwide to celebrating the unique gift that is a Catholic education.  After much discernment and continued prayer, we made the decision a few years ago to enroll our bambini in a parish-based parochial school for a number of reasons, chief among them being this particular school's faithful witness to the message of Christ as evidenced by its commitment to teaching Gospel values by example and living them in love.   While the academics taught at the school are first-rate, to have the reinforcement of a community actively seeking to live in accordance with God's law as we tend to the formation of our children's souls -- always by God's grace and with his help -- is priceless.

This was not the easy choice for us, but we feel it is the right one for our family.  Our bambini are thriving at this school, and they show an ever-increasing love for the Lord and consideration of other people, which we understand are the Lord's two greatest commandments.  We hope and pray this trend continues as the bambini grow to maturity, but maybe someday one or more of them will, to be blunt, chuck it all either by a willful departure from the faith or by an lukewarm apathy that creeps up over time.   There are plenty of stories of such alumni.

The pastor emeritus of the parish school often still presides at school Mass.  More than once I have heard him speak in reference to the gift that the students are receiving in the form of their Catholic education.  He always goes on to stress the importance of the students taking ownership of the gift they are being given and making it their own, carrying it with them, nurturing the seeds of faith their parents, pastors, and educators are working to plant every day, and guarding against the temptation toward laziness in the all-important matter of faith.

We can go to great lengths in the name of passing the faith on to our children, including providing access to a Catholic education for them (whether that's at a Catholic school, a  public school supplemented by parish-based faith formation classes, or home school), being active in a faith community, and living each day visibly seeking the Lord's will, all of which we know can heavily influence how the bambini filter all the messages they hear and apply them to their own lives. None of it will guarantee, however, that our bambini will ultimately become men and women of faith themselves.  That gift comes from God himself, and has to be sought, claimed, and lived by each person.

I pray the Lord will fan into flame the sparks of desire within our bambini and all God's children to know, love, and serve him in this life so as to be with him in the next.

letting go while holding on

Depositing the younger lad at preschool that first day last week was bittersweet for me. It was a long time coming, having debated whether to enroll him last year at age three. That wasn't the right time for him. It appears now is the right time, as he has a spring in his step and an eagerness to return. I am so grateful for his positive beginning, and I pray it continues to go so well. What a happy, fun place his preschool appears to be, staffed by people who truly care for the souls entrusted to them and skilled in the art of early childhood education, in a community of faith.

Spending time with my sister the new college freshman last week made me consider anew the prospect of someday taking my own children to college, depositing them there, and returning home without them. Children grow up to become adults -- God willing, adults who answer God's call to serve him by serving others. We as parents are here to see that process fulfilled.

I let my lad go a little that day, but not entirely. I'll never do that. The Lord may call him (and his siblings) to vocations that entail traveling both far and near or obligate the bulk of his attention to the care of others such as a wife and children or the people of God, but my love and prayers are portable enough to carry along with.

From preschool to college to beyond, parents will always be parents. The roles and responsibilities will change as the seasons of family life change, but the love of Christ that binds us together as a family will remain.

picture books for Holy Week, Easter, and beyond

We've been toting The Road to Easter Day by Jan Godfrey to school Mass throughout Lent.  Marcin Piwowarski's chalk drawings really make this book.  They tell the story so beautifully.  The text is written in a simple, lyrical style, telling the story from the perspective of a young boy named Ben who watches the events from the time Jesus enters Jerusalem through his resurrection.  Like the bird-themed books I wrote about around this time last year, this one is published by Pauline Books & Media. 

From Jean Francois Kieffer (the author of The Adventures of Loupio) and friends comes The Illustrated Gospel for Children -- destined for our bambini's collective Easter gift.  Based on how the lads have devoured Loupio and the two volumes of Tintin that we've checked out, I'm hoping they'll be equally as enthralled with this book.

Also among the Easter books will be A Walk Through Our Church by Gertrud Mueller Nelson.  As the title suggests, this is a tour of a church.  It reminds me of the unit in religion the elder lad did recently, which included a tour of the church given by the associate pastor of the parish where the lad goes to school and a three-dimensional card stock replica of said church complete with stained glass window, altar, and a little priest.  Aside from the perplexing archiving challenge this artwork presents, it's a glimpse into how our children view our worship space.

I came upon Nelson's book after having received A is for Altar, B is for Bible from the elder lad's godmother.  Both books are a part of the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd program of early childhood faith formation in the Montessori method.  Beautiful artwork distinguishes both these books, in true Montessori fashion.

As we celebrate Christ's passion, death, and resurrection, these books (among a few others) are pathways for helping make the mystery and majesty all the more tangible to our bambini, which we hope and pray will draw them closer to the Lord.

some lowbrow humor

One built-to-order "honeywagon" I commissioned from the elder lad (still home on snow furlough) while I was changing diapers this morning:

That's me driving.  Note the windshield.  A must.

***

Mama has been getting some static at the prospects of drawing pictures and writing stories, but I found a clear channel this afternoon with this:

(pardon my slanted handwriting -- that's not what it typically looks like)

Super Silly Mad Libs Junior.  To wit:

At The Candy Store

My favorite store is the chewy Spot candy store.   They have more pickles than you can fit in your arm.  There are chocolate-covered pencils, tasty jelly beans, and orange never-ending lollipops.  You can fart them for hours and they never shrink!  One time, I dared my gross little brother to stick five super spicy toilets in his eyelid for a full minute.  After ten seconds, he started to punch and then his face turned all sticky. My mom got so fat when she found out.  I wasn't allowed to squeeze any kind of prunes for a whole month.  Boy did I learn a sweet lesson!  Next time, I'll dare him to put them in his brain instead.

Toilet humor never fails to elicit lots of giggles -- even from the mama who has to read "f-a-r-t" over and over again.  I thought the ditty paired nicely with the Lego Honeywagon.

Next thing I knew, the lad was reading from the list of word choices for each symbol (alas, universally-appealing potty words included) and writing them himself to create this Pizza Party story:

Not exactly literature, but noteworthy none the less -- mostly for the laughter it brought forth from all of us.

far out

A sick day from school was no excuse for a day lolling around doing nothing (that came later in the week when Mama succumbed to the full force of The Sniffles).  On Monday the elder lad was coming off a fever he'd run over the weekend, so he stayed home from school.  He and his brother had been engrossed by the space-themed play set their aunt and uncle had given them for Christmas over the weekend, and the intergalactic fun continued on the sick day.  Thus was born the thematic approach to our unexpected stay home day.

We read Martian Rock by Carol Diggory Shields (illustrated by Scott Nash), in which a group of Martians set off in a space ship from their home planet to explore the galaxy looking for signs of life.  They refer to the planets as "orbs", and as they visit each one we learn a little something about the composition of that planet.  The last one they visit is Earth, where they land on the South Pole.  Thinking there is no life on this orb just as there hadn't been on any of the others, they are about to head home until they encounter a colony of penguins...

Since this is a multi-age classroom (ahem), we also read Helen Oxenbury's Tom and Pippo See the Moon, one of the gifts the lass received for her second birthday.  Tom asks Daddy all about the moon and considers going there himself in a rocket with Pippo (after a good night's sleep).  Considering our affinity for Tom and Pippo, and the insatiable interest children have in the potty and what transpires there (there's a drawing of Tom sitting on his gazing at the moon), this book is an instant winner here. 

To develop logic, critical thinking, and spatial-relational skills, we worked our new solar system puzzle. 

Add to this the space-themed songs from our Schoolhouse Rock playlist.  And for "glowing screen time" (I can't take credit for that term, but I love it), we watched an episode of the PBS show Word World about compound words entitled "Race to the Spaceship/Sandbox Surprise".

Not too shabby for a sick day...

civics lesson

Are votes marked by a five year old giddy at the idea of using "a marker that stains" at his mother's direction still valid?   Let's hope so.

I fulfilled my civic duty this election day with four little helpers in tow (which attracted the usual marveling) -- the littlest one in a sling, the middle two in our double stroller (though one made his escape), and the eldest pushing the rig. 

The prospect of seeing the sea foam green vintage charter bus with the name "Patsy" displayed in its destination marquee parked on the lawn adjacent to the church that served as our polling place with a "for sale" sign in its window piqued the collective curiosity in the Bambini Ride (she wasn't there, though).  After an explanation of the term "polling place" and why it was a church (but not ours) and a probably inadequate reasoning for this whole voting business, we unloaded and went in...

They did pretty well with the short wait, as they have when I've taken them with me to vote before -- even though it was after school and snacks were in short supply and we'd been in the car for a while already.  I'd read the ballot online before we set out on this endeavor, which sped up the actual ballot-marking process.

Choices made, I asked if either of the lads wanted to put the ballot in the reader machine.  They both just looked at me and then at the machine, curious about the beeps and clicks it was making and not wanting to be responsible for them.  That was alright.  The polling place attendants were generous with the "I voted" stickers anyway.  Each child (except the slingling) got one.

I was halfway expecting an election to be organized to determine the dinner menu this evening, but alas it did not come to pass.  (The gravitational force field of the planter box full of dirt out back won out).  I wouldn't be surprised to see one soon, though.  Someone I know has an insatiable interest in permanent markers, the cutting up of paper into smaller pieces, and the stashing of said paper tidbits into discarded Amazon.com boxes that could very easily be transformed into ballot boxes (minus the beeps and clicks)...

"this is like chemistry"

On our date earlier this week, the elder lad and I went to Whole Foods (where the fun rocket ship carts are) and swung through the bakery section.  Thereupon we discovered some cupcakes decorated in a patriotic fashion with red, white, and blue icing.  The lad was captivated.

So I've been trying to come up with a home-baked version of the cupcakes for the Fourth of July holiday.  We baked some yesterday, and today it was about the icing.  I wanted to try a recipe from The Sneaky Chef using organic powdered milk as the base and fruit juice (black cherry and blueberry) for coloring instead of dye.  I substituted agave nectar for the powdered sugar.   The result is a little short of what I was hoping for, so we're still working on it.

As we added this to that and stirred and taste-tested, the lad made a keen observation:

"This is like chemistry," he said.  Little does he know...

pomp and circumstance

Our elder lad is a preschool graduate.  While we didn't tell him to "get a job", like my father told me mostly in jest (but partly in earnest; he knew I was working on it) when I graduated from college, the milestone is noteworthy as a sort of punctuation in a continuing journey. God willing, it is the first of several such school-year-ending ceremonies.  

Donning white cap and gown, he and his schoolmates marched single file into the school gym to the tune of Edward Elgar's Pomp and Circumstance (Check him out if all you know of his output is the graduation tune.  His music is expansive, evocative of his homeland the English countryside, and informed by his Catholic faith).   They presented a brief but well-rehearsed and age-appropriate program showing off a year's worth of hard work and the development of an obvious camaraderie among them.  Afterward, they dutifully posed for pictures, then flung off their caps and gowns for some large motor skill time running around the gym (their indoor recess place, after all).

The first few days of preschool were fraught with emotion for all of us.  It was a very difficult decision to enroll him in preschool, us having always been together and already collaborating with a group of families in a preschool co-op.  The experience has proven to be a positive one overall, thankfully.  He was blessed with a loving, devoted, and thoughtful teacher and a bevy of caring staff and administration at the school.  The pastor of the parish preschool was one of five presiding at our wedding, and he made regular visits to the school both on regular days and for special events like the Christmas program and today's ceremony.

As we turn our attention to kindergarten next year at a new parish school, I expect we might go through a similar emotional experience to that which we knew at the beginning of this school year now ended.  The element of complete unknown that was part of the beginning of preschool will be (mercifully) absent -- or maybe lessened -- but there will nonetheless be that dimension of not knowing what to expect.  There is also the sadness of saying good-bye to friends the elder lad made this year; none of them will be attending the school in which he is enrolled.

He is looking forward to kindergarten, having been positively beaming on the visits we made to the school we have chosen.  It will mark the opening of a new season in our family life, one I'm glad we have a few months yet to start.

a little night music

The elder lad wandered into the bedroom where I was readying the lass for Lights Out this evening and sat down at our digital piano.  He said something like, "would you like some music?"  To which I replied, "sure!"  It has long been my policy to let the bambini noodle around on the piano (while insisting that "only fingers go on the piano" -- not trucks or toys or other things -- and to use the pads of their fingers at that) and just casually mention things sometimes like "the keys have names from A to G -- not the whole alphabet."

That's what I did tonight, and to my wonderment and great delight, the lad said "let me find A..."

**and he did**

Starting at the very bottom of the keyboard, he spelled aloud "A-B-C-D-E-F-G... A" and kept right on going (he did eventually get to H, I, and J, but I gently reminded him where to start over and he was back on track).  As I've casually done before, I played a few major scales for him in various keys.  Then he played a C-major scale, followed by an original composition about a dinosaur back down at the bottom of the keyboard.

I've been thinking that this summer might be an ideal time to take the next step on him gaining some more familiarity with the piano, because he does seem interested and we will have the time to do it.  I'm pretty daunted by the idea of being his piano teacher, but I have a few materials that I think will probably help (if I can devote the time to perusing them first so that I don't bungle the teachable moments as they present themselves). 

We'll see what other compositions might come out of such informal studies...

discerning: education

It's been a good year or so now (maybe longer, as I think I was still expecting our lass), but one morning the bambini and I had to make an early morning trip past the local elementary school.  The parking lot was full of parents lined up dropping their kids off for the school day.  Tears welled in my eyes as I drove past.  I could barely breathe.  It took me a more than a moment to collect myself and respond to my elder lad's inquiry "what's that, Mama?"  "That's the elementary school, babe.  It's time for school."  Maybe the pregnancy hormones had something to do with the uncharacteristic surge of emotions.  Yeah.  We'll go with that...

On the first day of preschool, I managed to hold it together fairly well in spite of great anxiety and a certain sense of loss as we bid our elder lad farewell in his classroom for the day.  It was a tough one.  We have all emerged stronger from the experience, though, and now he is thriving in his preschool environment.

As our elder lad approaches kindergarten, we are discerning God's will for school options.  We feel it is our duty to give him an education informed by our Catholic worldview, as it is that which guides every aspect of our lives, especially that which compels us to seek the will of God in everything and to be focused on fulfilling it.  The manner in which we accomplish the procurement of this education is still not entirely clear -- be it Catholic school, public school supplemented by parish-based faith formation, or home school with a Catholic curriculum.  In the end, my beloved and I are our bambini's primary teachers no matter what method of education we discern is the one in which they will thrive. 

I feel a lot of pressure to make the right decision for our children's education.  I know I'm not the first parent to feel this way.  We are trying to approach this decision faithfully, discerning God's will as we have for other major (and minor) decisions throughout our lives together. 

Whatever decision we come to, it will not be without much prayer and careful consideration of both the spiritual and academic aspects of the arrangement.  By God's grace, I trust we will make the right call.  Not that we can't change course down the line if we come to realize the situation isn't working out, but here's hoping we will remain open to the prompting of the Holy Spirit to recognize God's direction for the formation of not just the minds and souls of these children whose care he has entrusted to us, but their whole selves.

So maybe next year he'll be at that elementary school that brought on the drive-by water works.  Wherever he is, we hope to foster within him and his siblings a lifelong love of learning and a quest for the will of God for his life.