crickets chirping

As this virtual space has fallen dormant (again) over the past three months, a similar phenomenon has played out in real life.  For those faithful readers of mine (God bless them) who keep checking to see if this is the day I've clicked "publish" to post something -- anything -- since that last bit of good advice from the younger lad, I am grateful.  Thanks for sticking with me.  

***

Have you ever offered to help only have to your gesture ignored?  Not even ignored, but maybe politely noted, then not acted upon?  

This has happened to me more than once, and for the most part I've been able to cultivate a certain detachment that if verbalized would sound something like "here's what I'm offering.  You don't want it?  Fine.  Moving on..."

I've struggled to maintain this detachment recently when, once again, I offered to help when I saw that I could.  For whatever reason, what I was offering wasn't what the other party was looking for.  They didn't come right out and say it; they thanked me but then didn't get back to me on the offer for a while.  Maybe they didn't want my help.  Maybe they forgot.  Maybe they figured the offer stood (which it does). 

Maybe it wasn't about me at all.  

As I stewed in my juices cooking up reasons why I wasn't hearing back on the offer, I began to have an awareness that I was making it more about me than about the gift I was offering, which I truly meant as a gift.  Once I had this realization, I began to think more about my reasons for making the offer.

Was it to fill a need I saw?
Definitely yes.

Was it to fulfill a need of mine?
Yes to this also.

Was it to draw attention to myself?
I hate to think so, but maybe a little, given how much I'm letting it bother me.

In light of this last less-than-flattering thought, I began to pray for the grace to let go of any ambition I may have had lurking behind the offer (which I earnestly made with a sincere desire to help) and leave it all up to the Lord.  Maybe it just wasn't God's will that they take me up on the offer.  If he wanted me to serve him in this particular way, I knew he'd make it happen.  If he didn't, then I needed to accept that and pray for wisdom to discern his will for me here and now. 

Waiting on someone else to respond to some gesture of mine leaves me open to the awkward silence of no response -- what some might refer to as "crickets chirping" -- as in quiet enough to hear those critters that give me the heebie-jeebies serenading their sweeties.

This goes for prayer as well.  While it may seem our prayers are going unanswered, that all we're hearing is crickets chirping, such is not the case.  The answer to prayer does not come on our time table or even in terms we expect.  Answers can be found, however, as we "keep turning the cards over" as my dad would say, as life unfolds day by day.

In the particular case I describe, I have had to level with the Lord by letting him know what he already knows, that I very much wish for something specific to happen, but that even more than that I wish to do his will -- even if it means something other than my desire being fulfilled in this particular circumstance.  I trust that all things will work out according to God's plan, in God's time.

moments of greatness

Twice now in the past week there have been moments best described by that scene in the 1989 movie Major League (much of which I can quote) when the team manager Lou Brown comments to Charlie Donovan the team's general manager that things are "starting to come together". 

As we prepared for a little getaway to my parents' house last week on a day off school, the bambini (with some coaching) packed up their "pack packs" and play clothes the afternoon before so that the next morning we'd have fewer things on our "to do" list.  The morning of our departure when excitement was high, they each pitched in (pardon the pun -- that was fortuitous) according to their ability to fill water cups, vacuum the kitchen floor, help siblings get shoes on, etc.  We were on our way much earlier than on previous occasions, which meant we had more time to play. 

This afternoon we made a trip to Target after school for essentials like yogurt and bananas.  I had my reservations about making this trip, as in my mind a trip to the grocery store with four young children during happy hour might just qualify as the opening for one's cause for canonization (kidding! I'm exaggerating again.).   However, it had to be done.  So we did it.  On the way into the store, I gave a little pep talk about us working as a team just like we did before we went to Mimi and Papa's house last week so that we could get through the store quickly and be on our way home.  There were a few shenanigans but nothing serious, and no one got run over by the "brother cart".

It's moments like these that invite me to say with pride like Lou Brown that this is "my kind of team."  Of course, the very next moment there might well be an outburst from one or more children following some perceived or real injury such as the presumptuous swiping of a fresh library book for one's own perusal (the nerve!), and we are right back to normal -- whatever that is -- but they're still "my kind of team".

keepin' it real

Yes, that was my precious girl letting the faithful gathered for school Mass that "I want the PURPLE bow!"  She also wanted to know if we could "go now" and "have a snack in the car?"

"Soon," I told her in a stage whisper. 

On the bright side, no kneelers were dropped on anyone's shins or toes (though the lass did trip on a kneeler as we exited our pew to go to Communion and wanted to be carried the rest of the way).  The younger lad didn't attempt to slither out into the aisle from our pew (as he is sometimes given to do).  The baby girl registered some squawks as punctuation, but saved the yelling for later in the day when her brother the younger was all up in her face (understandably).  I caught a glimpse of the elder lad with his Bon Jovi hair sitting with his class (and looking the other way), but we made a hasty exit after Mass and thus didn't see him again until pick-up time.

So we made a minor scene today, but that's how it goes sometimes.   It's all part of learning how to behave in church just as anywhere else.  Little children have as much a place in church as adults do.

For the most part, the bambini did just fine. The color commentary (or "signs of life", as the associate pastor who presided at Mass this morning described them) often have impeccable, terrible, or simply comedic timing.  But they're are all a part of keepin' it real.  God willing, we'll be back next week.

pandemonium

Sometimes I really surprise myself by the absurdity of my ideas -- or rather, that I would cook up **and act upon** such ridiculous things.

Why I thought taking the bambini to a fast food chain with an indoor play area was a good idea is beyond me, as we hardly ever eat fast food *or* go to indoor play areas where I fret about whatever germs might be lurking on the equipment and spend the entire time keeping track of three little people in the maze of plastic and mesh with the fourth one in the sling. 

Chalk it up to my sleep deficit.  Sometimes my cognitive abilities are consequently impaired. 

Alas, with the brave help of my parents and sister, we loaded up all four bambini (the elder lad had a day off from school, and my family came to visit for the day) and took a field trip to this eatery with a reputation among moms as *the* place to go.  To be sure, there were lots of families with young children, many of whom were probably there after delivering a spiel about eating "a good lunch" before going to play.  I gave that spiel myself.  I might need a new spiel writer.

Very little of the "good lunch" (as it were) was consumed.  The play area was held hostage by two unsupervised children too old to be in there anyway egging each other on to "scream louder!".   And were there naps taken after all that excitement?

Of course not.

Does any of this come as a surprise to anyone?
Probably not.

I suppose it's one of those lessons this mama had to learn by living it herself.  Standing by me while I learned it (and enduring the screaming) was truly a work of mercy by my parents and sister.

Now we've been there, done that, and don't need to again.  Whether we eat at home or out some place, we'll find another place to play -- preferably outside. 

flying solo

For as challenging as the fourth pregnancy was for me, the wee raven-haired lass has shown herself to be a sweet-natured, fairly easy-going young lady.  She pretty much has to be, doesn't she?

My beloved returned to work today following a week's "staycation."  Our parents have likewise returned to their work-a-day routines.  Thus, with much humility and deep gratitude (and I'm sure thanks to much grace and a barrage of prayers on our behalf), this first full day of Mama and bambini flying solo went fairly well.  Sure, it had its ups and downs, but I've come to expect and weather those with the knowledge that comes only with hard-earned experience that, given a chance (and a prayer), the tempest will pass if I get out of the way.

The same experience -- all five years of it -- tempers my relief at the relative success of this day with the knowledge that not every day will go as well.  At such times, I pray both for mercy and for God's grace to make up the difference between what the bambini need and what I'm able to provide at that moment. 

Yes: the workload has increased.  Curiously, it seems our dishwasher is running all the time now along with the washing machine.  This baffles me, because the raven-haired lass dirties no dishes.

And yes: I'm pretty tired.  But seeing the raven-haired lass's three older siblings doting on her in their various ways gives me hope for the days to come, not to mention a collective lifelong legacy of laughter and looking out for each other.

normal (whatever that is)

As we try to get back to normal, or rather find a new normal, striking a balance between allowing myself to rest and heal from the younger lass's birth and wanting to be right back to "normal" with the older bambini is proving to be the biggest challenge.  Overdoing now could spell trouble down the road, and I don't want that.  There's just a lot to be done, and I know all too well how much more manageable the tasks are with multiple hands working to accomplish them.

I so appreciate the continued tender loving care we've been receiving from our loved ones.  My beloved is likewise working overtime to pick up the slack left by my sitting idle in my comfies and spectacles.  I am torn between wanting to rest and sleep and wanting to be as ever for my young children, who still depend so heavily on Mama taking care of them.  This time of transition is already confusing and challenging enough for them.  While it's good for them to learn to receive loving care from someone other than me, it's also essential for them to know I'm still here for them.

In less than two weeks the elder lad will start kindergarten, and we will once again redefine our "normal".  In the in-between, all I know to do is do our best to stick to the basic daily routine we've had for a while now, and make the most of the blessing of each moment together.  We'll work our way back to normal -- whatever that is...

this is not that post

Since my loved ones are awaiting baby news with great anticipation, I open nearly every phone conversation I initiate with something like, "Hi ... it's Bonnie.  This is not *that* call."

overdue

Things to do when you're overdue*:

• pray 
• laundry
• canvas the entire expanse of local mall, both floors, with three children and their grandmother; be sure to include a fun lunch
• lie down and rest -- even if the bambini don't -- so long as the grandmother is still up for wrangling them
• snuggle with said three bambini
• pray
• sip a favorite beverage (even if it is hotter than Hades outside) after the bambini zonk out in the car on the way home after traipsing all over the mall but not resting at siesta time
• laundry
• read books with the bambini
• feather the nest for loved ones arriving to help
• rearrange the kitchen counter top accessories
• pray
• build things with the bambini
• brush up on newborn care and nursing fundamentals
• laundry
• get a pedicure, massage, chiropractic adjustment, or any combination thereof
• bake something with the bambini
• pray
• laundry

*Really, the due date is more of a general "expected" date and is just one day in a window of a few weeks when the baby is "due" .  Every person and pregnancy is different.  Just goes to show: babies come in God's time. 

steady, ace.

In days of yore when gift-giving time would be coming up (say Christmas or my birthday), and I would notify those in positions of ability to procure that which I had on my wish list (say my parents), I had what I'm sure was an annoying tendency to get a little mopey and fretful that I would not receive the requested gift when the time for gift-opening at long last arrived.

Charming, no?

And yet, they still love me.  And most of the time, I did receive what I was pining for, silly girl.
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for your forbearance and unfailing generosity.

Here we are at the 40 week mark of this pregnancy, and wouldn't you know? I have that same feeling.  Like it's never going get here -- Quattro's birthday, in this case.  

But it will.  And in the end we will have one of the greatest gifts we could ever receive -- temporarily entrusted to us, of course, as Quattro is not ours to keep but rather to care for and prepare to one day return to God.

As my dad would often have to tell me, so now I tell myself:
Steady, Ace.

ready and waiting

We're at that point now where Quattro could come at any time, but we have no way of knowing when that will be.  Thus, we carry on as though each day is "normal" (whatever that is), ever knowing that things could change just like that.

This is a really unsettling stressful uncomfortable place to be in.

We make plans (and contingency plans), get things ready, carry on as ever, and try to keep in proper perspective this life-changing event that could happen tonight, tomorrow -- or next week, or even the following (especially my track record for tardiness).

Quattro will come in God's time.  I pray for the grace to trust Him (notice I didn't say patience), and the wherewithal to attend to things right here right now.

mothering under the weather

The lads are finished with their rounds of antibiotics.  Now it's me with a selection of them.  I've got another sinus infection --the second in a month, for which I have two prescriptions.  Fabulous.  Being on antibiotics again so soon is, as I've written before, unsettling to me, as it had been many years (pre-marriage and motherhood) since I had been on them (thankfully) and now I'm on them for the third time since November.

Forging ahead with caring for bambini when we ourselves are mildly under the weather is one of those things that we who are primary caregivers of little people just do (as do people employed in other professions).  There is no calling in sick.   I'm not incapacitated, but I am feeling the effects of the infection and companion restless night (or several, since the younger lad has been coughing so much at night).  This makes me far less patient when it comes to normal (if annoying) antics and mischief-making or (more seriously) disobedience.  It also makes me feel less like playing and more like turning on a video, though I've been trying to read to the bambini as much as my raspy voice will allow and still be as present to them as possible (along with some selective video watching).

I know it's got to be difficult for the bambini to understand why Mama might not be up for repeated trips upstairs to play or running around outside.  I hope to be back to my regular self soon.   As we slog through this allergy season, here's hoping we can all find ways to grow in holiness by offering up our small sufferings.  Maybe this is an opportunity for the bambini to practice their virtues of kindness, patience, and self-control (among others).  If nothing else, they'll know their mama is not immune to the same allergens and germs that are causing them such sniffling, coughing, and general malaise.

sibling revelry (or something like that)

This whole sibling relationship thing is one of the biggest quagmires of my mothering mission.  How do I foster peaceful, respectful relationships (I'm not even talking about *friendships* at this point) among these little people that will serve as the basis for friendships (there it is) to last throughout their lives?  Can this be done without micro-managing everything but also not abandoning children to figure things out for themselves with no tools or training on how to do so such that one ends up always bearing the brunt of another's ire or being bullied?  Is there a way to cultivate positive feelings between and among them without forcing affections that may not be authentic (at least, not now)?

Siblings are among the greatest gifts parents can give their children, as these people (ideally) serve as lifelong ties to family and God himself.  Getting my bambini to the point of having this kind of relationship is something to which I devote a huge amount of time and energy every day.  It is an extension of my basic day-to-day agenda: form these young souls in the virtues and values Christ shows by his own example to be the way we are called to live this life. 

I have one sister.  She's almost 17 (we collaborate on this blog).  This means that I was nearly 15 when she was born, so we are essentially two only children sharing the same mother (who is an only child) and father.  We have always had a special relationship, but it does not feature the typical sibling dynamics that involve sharing toys and taking turns riding shotgun and what not.  Most of the insights into sibling dynamics I have come from the three cousins (sisters, they are) I spent many a summer with in Chicago, along with those I gleaned growing up with the family of three boys and the girl who inherited many of my outgrown clothes.  I now have two brothers-in-law, one of whom will soon celebrate his first anniversary of marriage to my lovely sister-in-law.

I've read a few books on the topic of siblings (among them Siblings Without Rivalry by Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish of How To Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk fame, which I also have read -- more than once now) hoping to find some instructions, really, on navigating the tumultuous waters of sibling relations.  I think in the end, though, it comes down to helping the littles understand our individual identities as children of God.

I hope to instill within each of our bambini the knowledge that he or she is God's unique creation with a place in our family that his or hers alone.  It is because of this God-given identity that we love each of these children for who they are and who God will call them to become.  Each of us in the family has some role to play in the formation of the rest of us -- we are each a part of another's path to holiness and heaven.

I realize that in the course of childhood -- especially one with siblings as close in age as our bambini are -- conflict, upset, disappointment, frustration, and even jealousy are not entirely avoidable.   None of us is perfect, and we will unfortunately hurt each other at some point and need to seek forgiveness.  But in working out these kinks of self-control and emotional management, I hope to help us all learn to recognize within ourselves those things that set us off (so to speak) as well as the things that set each other off and avoid or work through them so that when they present themselves they don't lead to someone getting hurt physically or emotionally.  At times this seems an impossible goal, but I have to believe and keep working as though it is not.

When our lass was born, our elder lad was especially excited to meet and hold her, and he remains (for the most part) quite taken with her.  I'll always remember the deepest belly laughs we've ever heard from her coming in response to some silly faces he made at her when she was about four months old.  He also seems to have a lot of fun with his younger brother a lot of the time, discussing trucks or jamming with their banjos to classic rock music or digging in the yard.  Our younger lad has a great capacity for generosity and kindness; he often says things like "I love my sister" or "I love you" to his brother (who usually answers in kind).   

As sweet as those moments are, there are also times like in the not-so-distant past when the younger lad would tell his brother to go to Dallas, as it happened that my beloved had made several brief business trips there *and* we had family traveling to or from Dallas, so it must have seemed to a very young child like Dallas was the place where people were when they weren't here.  

Both lads often show great gentleness and deference to the lass when she toddles up to get in the middle of their Lego structure or makes a move for one of their trucks.  They'll usually ask me for help or offer her some other toy as a distraction from the ones they're playing with.  As she gets older, she's less easily dissuaded.  They keep trying. 

But then the time comes when someone gets fed up and smacks someone else or says something like "I don't like you".  It happens.  I can't help but get upset when one of my children hurts another one.  I know it's imperative for me to channel that feeling into a productive one that helps them all learn the virtues of self-control, temperance, justice, and kindness.  Likewise, as with many other struggles that seem to be par for the course in this season of our family life, a sense of humor and levity go a long way in restoring peace, soothing hurts, and moving us all past the cause of trouble and into a better place.

I don't expect perfect peace here, but can't they all just get along?

mercy

Just as I was about to go to bed last night, my elder lad appeared at the bathroom door needing my assistance (he had awoken after having been asleep for a couple of hours already).  When I might have been inclined to gently insist that he do the things that needed to be done by himself (as he is at times inclined to let me do them for him if I am willing), I sensed that he really needed his mama's help.  And something told me to tell him simply, "I love you."  This changed the entire dynamic between us, as he had come into the bathroom in a very ill humor, and afterward seemed relieved. Together we took care of business, he crawled back into his bed, and fell fast asleep.

Contrast this scene with the one that played out upon our arrival home this morning from a fun outing.  Everyone was hungry, tired, cranky -- and edgy.  Each of us snarked at the other until we were at last seated for lunch (which took some convincing).  Soon a smile emerged from someone's face, and then laughter.

How I wish I'd handled the second situation more like the first.  I wish I'd focused on the task at hand of getting lunch on the table, instead of getting caught up in the drama that was unfolding.  In so doing, I would've shown today what I showed last night:

mercy.

I just read this interesting post about a mother's works of mercy day in and day out, and it really resonated with me.  There is a major difference in my handling of the two situations: in the former I was able to be merciful, recognizing and responding to the need underneath the snarly exterior instead of reacting more negatively.

I really get upset with myself when I give into the weakness toward irritability and snappishness like I did at lunch time, but I realize that being merciful with myself (without excusing the poor behavior) is necessary in order to model mercy for my children, which is really the lesson I want them to learn. I also want to help them learn to recognize when they are feeling tired, hungry, cranky, or a combination of such things, and how to help themselves by tending to their needs without lashing out at other people (such as picking on one's sibling or speaking rudely to one's mother).

I wish them to learn mercy, both by experiencing it from us, and in extending it to each other and those around them.  Such a thing is best learned by observation and experience, as we all well know in our own experiences of Christ's infinite mercy and the mercy we've received at the hands of others. 

When I don't meet my expectations, I can all too easily dwell on my slip-up.  Ultimately this only serves to distract me from taking care of my children.  The best I can do is to apologize for my mistake, make amends, seek forgiveness, recognize what contributed to my mistake so as to prevent it happening in the future, and move on.

In my quest for everyday sanctity, I have to be merciful with myself.  Maybe my children will see the steps I take (especially if I spell them out and am consistent about them), and God willing learn from my mistakes without having to make their own. At least I hope so.

When it comes to my expectations for my children, I have to remind myself that they are in fact children and that they will occasionally mess up.  This is (usually) nothing personal against me.  It's just a fact of childhood.  We all make mistakes, after all.  Our mistakes do affect others, so when we make them we must take steps to make things right as much as we are able.  And when we have been wronged, we are called to extend mercy and forgiveness.  I hope to equip my bambini with the tools to meet their needs without harming other people.  In our fallen world, I know this won't always work out.

This work of motherhood is humbling.  Mama's mistakes are plainly there for her children to see.  I hope how I handle my handling of my mistakes will be of use to them when they must own up to theirs, and I hope they will dispense mercy with each other as freely as they do their laughter and forgiveness.

Mass with bambini

We Catholics call our communal worship service "Mass" or the Sacred Liturgy*.   It's offered every day of the year except Good Friday and Holy Saturday (until the Easter Vigil begins, in many places after sundown on Holy Saturday).  We go weekly, though I love to go to daily Mass whenever I can (which isn't often these days).

For me, Mass has long been a source of great spiritual sustenance and strength.  I try to keep up with the daily readings at home, though doing so with greater regularity should be one of my New Year's resolutions.  The readings are the first part of Mass, followed by the Eucharist -- what we believe to be Jesus's body and blood in the form of consecrated bread and wine. 

This is one of the central tenets of our faith, one we strive to impart to our children through our faithful attendance of Mass and the living of the Gospel day in and day out.  When we go to Mass each weekend, we go to worship God the Father, His son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit.  If we are open to it, we stand to receive a multitude of grace and blessings, but this is not the primary reason for going.  That would be to worship God -- the One who has created each of us and placed each of us in our particular circumstances, whatever they may be.

Realizing this puts things in perspective when children are fussy or otherwise not as attentive to the goings on at Mass as we expect them to be.  It can be, we do understand, difficult for young children to sit through an hour-long Mass, but it is nonetheless important for them to be there along with us.  They are as much a part of the community as anyone else.

Setting them up for success in Mass goes a long way for everyone's sake.  Here are some of the things we try to do:

• make sure they're fed.  We usually go to 8am Sunday Mass, which leaves little time for dawdling beforehand, but we get them up in time to feed them something (here's where I reiterate my public service announcement about protein, too.).  Blood sugar levels on even keels go long ways in helping everyone have a good experience at Mass.
• pack some age-appropriate church-related reading material and quiet toys for the littlest ones, and make use of children's missals for those who are starting to (or can already) read
  
• point out things around the church, as well as quietly offer brief explanations of what's going on during Mass
• make our expectations clear for their behavior before walking through the door
• commend them on their attentiveness, respectfulness, and reverence when appropriate

Now that my elder lad is starting to read, I often have the hymnal or missal (which contains the texts of the readings and prayers) open and trace the words with my finger so he can follow along.  He is participating in Mass more each week, saying the Creed and other communal prayers, singing the Gloria, and listening to the readings and homily with keen interest.  Seeing him participate makes my Mass experience so much richer.  The greatest gift we can give our children is faith in the God who created each one of them and has a plan for each one of their lives.  To see him beginning to develop his own faith life gladdens my heart profoundly. 

Of course, things don't always go smoothly.  When one of them is really struggling, we excuse ourselves to regroup, but then we return to the pew for the remainder of Mass.  We don't expect complete silence and total stillness for an hour from these young children, and most of the time they are able to conduct themselves with reasonable decorum.  All the same, there is usually a fair amount of shuffling around from lap to lap, rummaging through the aforementioned bag of "amusements," and general whispering and whatnot.  These come with the territory, and from what I understand (and hope to be true) are not generally disruptive to other people as they create a sort of white noise rather than disturbances. This kind of stuff does distract Mama and Daddy, though, and we don't always catch the readings or homily in their entirety.  Sometimes we might even miss the Eucharistic Prayer if we're out placating a child or changing a diaper.  But we always come back for Communion -- the reception of Jesus in the Eucharist.  This is the whole reason for being there. 

Christ deserves our attentiveness and devotion.  He also knows each of our circumstances and realities and is present within them.  The grace we receive in the Eucharist is His gift to us -- noisy children and shuffling of their books and all.   Even if I feel like I've missed most or all of the Mass, reception of the Eucharist makes up for everything. 

Following Communion I offer this:

"Lord I pray You will strengthen me by Your presence within me to do Your will, and to be the person Uou call me to be for the people You place in my midst..."

*The Catholic Encyclopedia (OSV) states:

 The purpose of liturgy is diverse. First and foremost, it is to give glory and honor to God through prayer. Second, it is to build up the faith of the people. Third, it is to teach and instruct the faithful in the meaning of Christ’s word through the sacred mysteries.  Liturgy is not simply an intellectual act but an act of the whole person. The intellect, senses, and emotions are involved.

For further reading, check out What You Need to Know: Mass (The Sacred Liturgy).

great expectations

When I was a novice music director planning the first Christmas liturgies of my service, I selected Marty Haugen's ebullient "Awake, Awake, and Greet the New Morn" as the opening song of the Christmas Day liturgy.*

"Awake, awake, and greet the new morn,

For angels herald its dawning,

Sing out your joy, for now he is born,

Behold! the Child of our longing.

Come as a baby weak and poor,

To bring all hearts together,

He opens wide the heav'n-ly door

And lives now inside us for ever."

Festive, yes, and fitting, sure -- but not "O Come, All Ye Faithful" or "Joy to the World" or some other such bulwark of the Christmas carol repertoire as some might have been expecting.  I was known for introducing a lot of new music to the parish, and Christmas was no exception.

Each of us has our own set of expectations when it comes to such things as major holidays like Christmas.  They are built on tradition, the memories of our childhood, the hopes we have for how we'd like to celebrate in the future, and (at least) what we think the people we plan to celebrate with expect of the holidays.  But what happens when it all turns out differently?

The final two weeks of Advent passed in a blur for our family.  Our lad who seemed so fragile was for good reason.  He was diagnosed with pneumonia, then a week later turned up with an allergic reaction to the antibiotic prescribed to treat the pneumonia.  Before that latter revelation, we were contending with breathing treatments and medicine and such.  This left little time or energy left for fully entering into the Christmas mystery -- at least, in the way I thought I should have.

With Christmas Eve came a blizzard -- an anomaly for our region of the country.  Its arrival meant no family coming over to spend Christmas Eve with us or us going to visit other family on Christmas Day as we had planned, treacherous travel conditions for those who did venture this way, and no outing to Mass -- the centerpiece of our entire Christmas celebration.

Now the weather conditions are improving, and family is on the way to celebrate with us.  May our tidings be festive, joyful, and grateful for the blessings of family, the restoration of good health for our young lad, and most of all for the gift of redemption that comes with the arrival of the Christ child.

Christ enters into our reality knowing full well what it is, and wanting to be a part of it.  Our desire to be still and listen and make every little detail perfect is itself a gift from God -- a stirring of our devotion and faith.  But he knows our particular circumstances -- chaotic and stressful and exhausting though they may be -- and embraces us and them.  Even when we can't come to him, he comes to us.

I don't remember if we got to this fourth verse of the carol that Christmas morning with the obscure music (there *were* other, more familiar selections that morning), but it certainly seems fitting this year:

"Rejoice, rejoice, take heart in the night,

Though dark the winter and cheerless,

The rising sun shall crown you with light,

Be strong and loving and fearless;

Love be our song and love our prayer,

And love, our endless story,

May God fill ev'ry day we share,

And bring us at last into glory."

*In our Catholic tradition, there are several Masses celebrating Christmas beginning on Christmas Eve, including the vigil Mass on Christmas Eve, Mass at Midnight, and Mass during the Day on Christmas Day.

triage

The same sweet lad who was just a few days ago wooing me with his little sonnet of Mama love has fallen ill with a fever, junky sounding cough, and upset stomach.  The past couple of days he's been saying he needs me to snuggle him, which I am always happy to do, especially when he is as obviously miserable as he is.  Who wouldn't want their mother at such a time?

Now that Daddy is home for the weekend things are a little more manageable, but yesterday was a different story...

While the ailing lad needs Mama to hold him, his older brother also wants me to play trucks with him, and the baby girl has set her sites on climbing the stairs on her own.  After that she decided that Mama-holding-business looked pretty good and wanted plenty of it for herself (when she wasn't trying to rearrange her elder brother's careful set-up of animal figurines and trucks).  What's a solo-flyin' Mama to do?

As I scurried around preparing what might pass as "lunch" amidst the feverish lad's plaintive pleas for me to hold him, the elder lad was (thankfully) quizzing me on how to spell "construction site" for him to label the truck drawing he'd done at school this week.  The lass was making her request for sustenance known as well; Mama barely managed to get everyone something to eat. 

At times like this, it's all about triage.  Who is in the greatest need at this very moment?  As I've written before, multitasking is an art form I practice daily to master.   When it comes to the immediate and intense needs of these three souls, Mama desperately wants to meet them all.  But I'm only one person.  How can I?

One idea is to pile up and read together.  We did that for a while.  We fudged a little on the TV time, all watching a Planet Earth episode on oceans, Dinosaur Train, and Curious George.  We bundled up and went for a drive; the sleep that had eluded the ailing lad during our story hour came shortly after backing out of the driveway, and his brother and sister fell asleep themselves.  (I had packed some dark chocolate in case things worked out that way.  Mama needed the endorphins.) 

Help arrived shortly after we got home in the loving hands of my mom, dad, and sister.  Everyone's spirits were buoyed when Daddy arrived home with pizza.

The two healthier siblings did what they could to console and care for their brother, though by the end of the day with only brief rolling siestas for anyone, patience was in short supply.  The poor lad didn't mean to be fussy; he simply couldn't help it.  We've all been there.

He's still sick today, but his spirits are improved.  Here's hoping the extra TLC will be just what he needs to get over what's ailing him.

Lord, I pray for guidance in caring for these children, for their physical, mental, and spiritual health, for my younger lad's speedy and complete recovery, and for continued health for my other two children.  I don't know how "mothers of many" balance these precarious situations.  I guess they just do the best they can with what they have at the moment.  That's what I tried to do yesterday.  It wasn't the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last.  I pray that God will make up the difference between what I'm able to provide and what my children need.