Little Traditions, Big Rewards: Living Liturgically to Grow Faith

I can hardly believe yesterday was the last Sunday of the liturgical calendar.

Maybe it's my kids getting older and wiser, or maybe it's me getting older and....tired-er?...but each passing year seems to fly by faster. And it's equally true for observing the liturgical calendar. I could swear we just made it through Lent, celebrated a joyous Easter, lived it up with the great feast of Pentecost, and now we're here just having celebrated the Feast of Christ the King.

Just the other day I completely missed the boat on Martinmas. Completely. Like, it was November 14 and the thought of St. Martin of Tours and lanterns just began to dawn in my mind. (The feast of St. Martin of Tours is November 11...3 days before I even contemplated it.) It is hard to keep up with all the major feast days.

I would love a personal liturgical assistant (I would also love for this mythical personal liturgical assistant to be Kendra) who would prep, shop, craft, cook, and decorate for me prior to the actual feast day. I would love to wake up and have a kid's craft completely prepared for the kid's to work on without me having to even click into Pinterest. Or a gourmet ethnic meal simmering on the stove while I leisurely sip tea and eat bonbons.

But I'm living in a world where my mornings are devoted to school with my kids, the afternoons fly by with everything else that needs to get done, and by dinner time I am booking it to get some food on the dinner table. I have very, very little margin in my regular old, real, everyday life to be planning anything or decorating anything. I just still feel very maxed out. I'm out of survival mode, and living fully in maxed out mode.

But that doesn't mean that making memories with my family and instilling a love of the Church through observing the liturgical year is not a really important goal and value in my life. I am so glad that the little things I have done have cemented their way into my kid's little brains.

And let me tell you if you're currently in survival mode and/or just enjoying your baby or toddler, start now with the little traditions you want your family to love! Set up those Advent candles, celebrate your family's baptismal days with store bought cupcakes, let your little boys dress up as knights on the feast of St. George, whatever it is you like doing that is tied to the liturgical year, do it and start small.

You will be shocked at how quickly kids notice things that happen every year and start asking for them themselves. And the best thing is that little kids are so easily impressed! Take advantage of this and aim low. My kids love the special St. Patrick's books we own and love being able to find them in March. They love special nights when we just light candles while we say evening prayers for their baptism day or name day. Roasting marshmallows on the feast of Pentecost or the Nativity of St. John the Baptist is low work on your part and high excitement reward for littles!

I have been blown away with how traditions grab little hearts. We think that we should constantly be trying new things, entertaining our kids with the new and exciting, but what little hearts crave is tradition. They long for stability, to know they can expect and trust in things in their lives. The little things we do to celebrate tradition, which is really what the liturgical calendar is all about, are what build the trust in the love of God that we are really trying to give to our children. 

So we might not be able to do it all. We might not be able to celebrate all the feast days we want to, the way we want to. But I am telling you that the little things add up to big things in the eyes and hearts of our kids. So start small and start today.

And hey, maybe one day I'll be able to make lanterns for St. Martin and an Indian meal for St. Teresa of Calcutta -- I can dream!


The best news I've got for you today is Jenna's new book. If you're looking for simple and straightforward ideas for the liturgical calendar The Lazy Liturgical has got you completely covered. Jenna goes through the entire year, emphasizing the important feasts of the Church and different saint days and gives simple ideas that don't involve complicated crafts or tons of sugar. It's a great way to not stress about the liturgical year yourself, but to start traditions with your kids now. Head over to her Etsy shop to pick up your copy today!

Today Jenna is generously giving one Fountains of Home reader a hard copy of her book, just enter away, you've got till Advent! 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Community Won't (Necessarily) Make Your Life Easier

I've been thinking lately a little bit about the idea of community and how we think about it. More importantly I've been thinking about my thoughts concerning community. Mostly because I generally struggle with the idea of community since I have very little around me. It's a tough situation to be in when you have no local "community" surrounding you. Where you don't have friends down the street, or at Mass, or even many at the kid's soccer games. It's kind of been a constant struggle for me which can only really be remedied by our family moving to a new a community at this point. But there's a lot going on with what we as moms think about "community" to a more general and greater extent.

We all know community is necessary and beautiful part of life. I am in no way debating that! There is so much to be said with being able to share in each other's burdens, support one another with our presence or physical help, experiencing each other's joy. This is only heightened as we become mothers, grow families, and raise the next generation. There are so many things that can only be shared mother to mother, so much that can be communicated from one understanding heart to another.

But I think a lot of us, especially Catholic moms, might have a mythical image of idealised "community" that holds us back from truly enjoying and living the community we do have in our lives right now. I think it’s a misconception to see community as some kind of end in itself, a paradasical commune-like existence where we can depend on shared childcare, minimal cooking, and mimosas with our friends during the day while braiding one another's hair.

I think some of us live in a state of near constant disappointment that this isn't our current reality. We resent our daily tasks and chores because we think it's too much, that we're not meant to do it alone, that if only we lived in community we'd have so much more time to be ourselves and to take care of ourselves. I know I've thought that before.

The problem is that this mythical community is just that: mythical.

Our mother's didn't have that kind of community, our grandmother's didn't have that kind of community. And if we come from a cultural background where different generations lived in the same household we may know that they shared in the housework, but that there were also a myriad of other difficult issues to deal with in sharing close quarters with extended family. For most of us there will never be a perfect community, Catholic or otherwise. And for the majority of us we are simply called to be more active members of the world than sheltered in bubbles of like-minded Catholics.

Our grandmothers may have worked alongside their sisters and mothers but their work comprised a full day's labor that we can hardly understand today. If they were sharing the work of childcare and household duties it was most likely because they were supporting a greater population than just their immediate family in their home and at their table, or were working full time outside of the home just to make ends meet. My grandmother worked on her family's farm and would routinely cook three meals a day for about 20 people. The burden of loneliness was lighter, but the workload wasn't. Let's also acknowledge that we as modern moms do so much even with the advent of household technology, but that our husbands are doing far more domestically than any previous generation. My grandmother's have both commented to me that they never had the kind of support that my husband gives me when it comes to the daily care of our kids.

The mom's groups, parish ministries, and friend's down the road are all important, but let's not put our expectations in a perfect life in somehow levelling up when it comes to community. Our personal issues are not solved by simply having more people in our lives.

There is a core loneliness that only Christ can answer in our hearts. There is so much that is downright difficult when it comes to living out our vocations especially in our current societal situation. We all desperately want to pass on our faith to our children, to live holy examples for them and keep our sanity while doing it. But parenting has never been easy, and never will be. There may be aspects of our aspirations towards a perfect community that want the support of others, but in a more convoluted way seeks to make our daily lives easier. I’m not saying I don’t want that too, hey, I’d love a nanny or a cook to drop by any day of the week, but I think I’m getting community wrong when I begin to think that community will make my life easier and more comfortable, that it will somehow get rid of the daily grind and the daily sacrifice which so much of motherhood requires.

We can also get caught up in the pursuit of community and skip over the importance of first fostering our marriages. Our marriages are our most important relationship, that's the community we should want to grow and continue to nurture as our first priority. Marriage is the relationship that will impact our hearts and our everyday the most. If our own husbands don't understand our struggles at home and offer their help that's a far greater issue than having a next door neighbour to share housecleaning with.

I think we should all be looking to grow the communities around us. I think this is a very valid and important task for us as mothers, and really just as human beings. But we need to understand that fostering good community doesn't mean that our lives are going to get easier when it comes to facing a sink full of dishes in the morning, disciplining our children, and facing our own personal emotional and spiritual issues that arise within motherhood. There is no perfect community coming to rescue us from what we see as personal drudgery or give us  right order in our hearts and homes.

So please, go out and enjoy the community you have right now! If it's one friend down the street then foster that friendship. If it's a vibrant mom's group that meets once a week be grateful for the opportunity. If it's online friendship with people who understand you and your values know that that's important too. If it's making a difficult choice to live near family to the detriment of a yearly salary then go all in and enjoy the ability to have grandparents watch your kids. If it's living near sisters then get ready to take on their drama and relish the ability to vent without judgement. Let’s enjoy and live fully the actual community we have right now, rather than waiting for the mythical commune.

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On Children Teaching Us Common Sense

I've been trying to write an article about how children teach us common sense for a while now. It's not flowing well, I probably need to scrap it and start over, and today I might finally get a chance because everyone around here is sick.

Not terribly so, but everyone is suffering from fevers and feeling miserable. So we've been drinking tea, watching some extra Netflix, lying around with extra blankets, trying not to get angry over every little thing (although that seems to be a herculean task for 4 outta 5 kids right now), and hopefully letting little bodies heal themselves. I've cancelled and rescheduled appointments we were meant to be at today and Dominic is sad to be missing his tae kwon do tonight.

But back to how all of this reminds me of this business of common sense and children!

The thing with kids is they are constantly bringing you back to reality. Your newborn's cries demand to be fed and changed and comforted. And it's simply common sense to do that for them when they cry. But the cries can't be ignored and they bring an attention and focus to the moment you can't escape. I used to think this constant demand for nourishment was so inconvenient and that newborns were impossible to figure out. But in reality their basic needs are simple if tireless. The more you come to understand the simple needs the less overwhelming it is to meet them.

But it also retrains our brains a bit to make them understand that we need to meet the demands of the present moment. The ones looking/screaming us right in the face, if you will. That's common sense. And it's a lot less common than we think.

How many of us act as if the real demands of our life at the moment can be put off, ignored for a while, or maybe looked at in just the right way that they become not really demands at all. We can shrug off feeding ourselves well, getting enough sleep, and pushing ourselves harder because of technology. We live in ways that try to ignore basic realities. And nothing calls us back to basic realities like children.

I know when I'm sick I'll still push myself as much as I can. I hate cancelling things when I'm not feeling well. I don't like to not get things done. I hate feeling like I'm lying around not accomplishing anything. But it's really hard to not see how sickness affects our littles. It reframes how I see rest, healing, and time. I can't rush or control how long it will take for them to feel better, I can't heal them instantly or pretend they aren't ill, but I do have to acknowledge that the best thing for them is rest. And that usually means a lot more work, and a lot less getting things done for me. It's one of those inconvenient truths when it comes to common sense: we can't have it exactly the way we want it when we want it.

But that's exactly what reality is. And that common Catholic way of thinking that truth is aligning ourselves with reality really does show itself in the little things. Like letting our sick kids rest on the couch when they're feeling bad. Maybe we'll grow in common sense along the way.

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A Mother's Panic Attack

I don't know what it is. Maybe the turning of another calendar year, the sentiments brought up by Christmas, potty training my baby and not changing a diaper for the first time in almost 9 years, or just Facebook memories, but for the past little while I've been confronted with the shocking realization that my kids are no longer babies and it's throwing me for a loop.

My 5 children were born in less than six years. I'm not just repeating this fact to shock and awe or remind myself because even I still can't believe it sometimes, but to emphasize how deeply, deeply entrenched in the trenches of new motherhood I was. There was always another baby, there was always more than one toddler, sometimes three. I can still honestly swear that I just couldn't even imagine a time where they would be even semi-independent from me. I would go from changing a diaper to changing a diaper to changing a diaper.

But now my older kids are just....kids. They're still young, precious, innocent, and sweet children, which I love and relish. But when I look back at pictures of a couch full of toddlers and toddlers holding their newborn siblings and realize that they'll never be that small again, that I'll never have just small kids again and it breaks my heart a little bit and I'm not sure why.

I've definitely not wished away their small children-ness even though I would have given my eye teeth for a whole nights sleep or the ability for one or two to put on their own mittens. I know I've lived their childhood with them fairly well, enjoying as much as possible their stages and growth, I have no regrets that I didn't savour each baby stage and wish them to the next quicker and neither do I regret the long days where I was more frustrated than doe-eyed at the sight of their patty-cakes.

And yet just thinking these thoughts brought on an almost panic attack feeling last night as I lay in bed. My throat chocked up, the heavy feeling pushed down on my chest, tears at just the thought of old pictures of my big kids as little toddlers.

It's not as if they're applying for colleges!  I know! I feel like I'm becoming the classic, stereotypical mother who laments as her children grow older, but I just can't help it. I've been so attuned to their stages and growth, most of the time celebrating their little steps towards independence and accomplishment, maybe this it just the normal realization of change finally catching up to me who is normally immune to such emotional dithers?

I know I'm also not mourning the loss of a "season". I still have small toddlers! I have no plans to never have children again - the thing with this open to life business is that we don't choose or make or even plan how our "seasons" of life will come and go, which is pretty hard to wrap our minds around.

It surprises me how much I feel just plain sad and heartbroken about change when at the same time I'm also really happy and encouraged in a way. I think it's almost as if there's this heart breaking and heart healing happening at the same time.

I know I think, and wish, and feel as if time, and my children, and motherhood reached a high point and just stayed that way - cemented where I wanted it to be, where it felt just right. But the reality is that motherhood and children and family is a constant thing, we're living in this stream of life and love that can't be bottled or stopped. Even though we think it'd be perfect -- it would really only be a puddle.

This heart breaking is probably a good thing. I'm probably beginning to realize and be grateful for how things were (however imperfect), how things are (flying by fast but still oh-so-sweet), and how things will be (probably imperfect and sweet). The heart breaking and heart healing is the way of motherhood.

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2016 and a word for the year

I have never done the "word of the year" thing.

My practical personality has simply not even contemplated a "word" of the year before. It's just so vague. Is is a resolution? A helpful tidbit? A word from above? What do I do with it? Do I just calligraphy it on my chalkboard for a year and see what happens? Make it a Sanskrit tattoo somewhere?

I mean, it's hard to know what exactly to do with a word of the year. But I do understand the idea that we're attracted to and invited to understand one word or concept to better ourselves and our life in some way. And for some reason I actually began thinking about this whole concept in December. This is like light years ahead of schedule than when I usually make New Year's resolutions in February.

And the word that keeps coming to me whenever I think about choosing a word for the year?

Listen.

Which is just weird because I listen fine. I'm so good at listening that I can listen quickly and talk for at least double the amount of time. I'm decisive and judgemental. I usually know what people in my life are going to say before they say it. I don't have hours to devout to meditation to hear God's voice. If God needs to get a hold of me it's usually through the wails and cries of my five young offspring.

So listen.

I don't know how this will go, or what will happen, or what I can do to listen more but that's my word for the year and I'll guess we'll find out! Which feels kind of exciting.

(Sidenote: why aren't words of the year ever "makeup" "reality TV" or "cookie"???? Just saying.)

I also just chose a saint of the year and drew St. Nicholas. Which I guess is interesting? Single ladies, grooms, boys, fishermen, students, judges, against imprisonment, against robbery...he's the patron of a a lot of things that could maybe apply to me? I clearly may become a judge who deliberates a case between a fisherman who is robbed by a groom.

But honestly, I did pray before hitting that pick a saint button that I'd end up with a saint who could really help me out. So I'm trusting that St. Nick is my guy. Last year Saint Fabiola was my chosen saint and she's the patroness of unhappy marriages and divorced people but my marriage is still going strong. I believe saints can cover multitudes of bases!

I also wish I had more resolutions for this year. I never make resolutions. This year I feel that the only thing I really wish I would change and work on is journaling more. I want to journal just little thoughts, and things the kids say, and what I'm seeing out my window, just for myself....on real paper! I want it to be a daily practice that becomes part of my routine. So we'll see how that pans out.

And maybe I'll blog more.

Happy 2016!

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December 22

December 22 already!

Our wild, patchy, yet perfect tree is trimmed, the presents are (mostly) on their way from Amazon, snow has fallen in the last week to make everything look cozy and blanketed, and I'm barely wrapping my mind around Christmas being so soon!

Our last week was pretty rough with my poor Nora being really sick last week. A raging fever that didn't let up for three days, doctors visit, antibiotics, finally feeling better a few days after that - it was one of those sicknesses where she only wanted to be held by me for all her waking and sleeping hours. I lost a week a week before Christmas.

But she's on the mend, I was lucky enough to get out of the house on Saturday, and Christmas is still on it's way. Christmas can't be stopped, and that's almost a comforting thought to me as a mom to a bunch of little people who sometimes/all the time thinks that I must do everything before Baby Jesus can come. Seriously, I gotta check myself often because I can begin to operate like a kind of automatron who must get all the things done for everyone OR. ELSE. CHRISTMAS. WILL. BE. RUINED.

But I've had Christmases in the past few years where I was nine months pregnant, six months pregnant, and unable to get out of bed Christmas Day because of a terrible case of the flu, and yet Christmas went on and children were completely happy even if all the cookies weren't baked and each present wrapped perfectly. Christmas really does have it's own joy even when things are going pretty crumbily, and I think that's something I'm just learning even though the lessons were given a few years ago. I'm sure I'll need to relearn it again and again.

Now, even though I'm still pretty overrun with small children and their bubbling excitement that needs to be corralled on the busy days, I'm trying to soak it in because their precious little years really don't last long. I'm really so lucky to have a house full of kids who are completely over the moon about all aspects of Christmas, from Santa to the tree lights to candy canes to remembering every thing we've done before because it's all tradition to them.

It's a crazy kind of chaos where I feel like Christmas week is a wild sprint to the finish. Where I'm cooking and baking, finding fancy church clothes an hour before Mass, staying up late trying to find where I've hidden the stocking stuffers, still staying on top of the never ending laundry that doesn't stop for the holidays, packing for all of us, making sure we have milk -- it's tiring, I'm weary by the end of Boxing Day. It really is a lot.

But I'm going to remember the joy and actually enjoy myself too. I don't want to look back on my children's Christmases and only remember feeling frazzled and exhausted. I want to remember their sweet faces and expressions, that I was happy to see them happy. I want to remember the family dinners spent with our family and how lucky my children are to be part of it all. I want to remember the late nights of wrapping for so many people and then remember hugging and hanging out with them on Christmas Day. And while I watch them binge the littles binge on cookies and chocolate I'm going to enjoy a drink myself.

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On Discouragment

It's the end of October and I've had a couple of rough weeks. Nothing serious or even anything to complain about. But weeks where I'm more frustrated with just myself and how I seem to be reacting to ordinary, everyday things with anger and frustration and annoyance.

It is another one of those stumbling blocks and reminders that I'm not "progressing" or "accomplishing" or moving forward in as many ways as I want to think that I am. I want to think that I'm becoming a better mother with each passing year and in turn not have to deal with the same things that I've stumbled on in the past.

And sure, I'm sure I've gotten better at this "mom-ing" stuff and I really hope that I've become a better and holier person with each passing year, but when you hit a rough patch of a couple weeks of impatience and frustration at nothing in particular you've got to wonder to yourself why this little stuff keeps bringing you down.

It's humbling. I know. Humility. Oh, humility. It comes and it doesn't feel great, and it changes you a little bit by knocking around some of your tough prideful points and sometimes it takes a bit more force than not. But it also brings a fair bit of discouragement.

For us normal, ordinary people who encounter our regular, boring types of non-dramatic humbling it's the discouragement that can really do the most damage. Not directly to our selves, but to our faith. It's the discouragement that knocks most of us off track, makes us change course, or even give up.

I'm talking about discouragement when you know you're in the right place doing the right thing. I'm fairly confident in this vocation of mine, 5 kids don't allow for much second-guessing in that department, and I believe the daily mothering is of amazing, vital importance to them and me.

It's just that these times of frustration, second-guessing, plodding and persevering can be spiritually discouraging. I've been thinking and churning about a lot of things, but it seems that all that's necessary is trudging through this rough patch of whatever this is. It's tough to feel like you don't know what to change, and even worse to know you don't really have the internal ability to magically change yourself. It is humbling to realize you still need God in all the same places where no matter how hard we try, we just can't fix ourselves by ourself.

I think I'm also going to allow this feeling of discouragement to sit with me instead of instantly ignoring or denying it. Not that I'm giving the discouragement credibility or allowing it to take root, but just saying that's just how I feel right now. I'm going to keep trudging though.



(sidenote: I just found this photo on my camera card from a few weeks ago and I can't even believe I took because it's so good, if I do say so myself, but usually they need so much editing.)

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Seven Quick Takes vol. 125

Joining Kelly the Pioneer Woman for Seven Quick ones.

{one}

Oh guys, it's a beautiful summer week around here. It's been hot enough to break out the hose, the kiddie pool, and to let certain toddlers run around naked outside. It's really great. I just want to get that out there. Summer is great=newsflash, I know. You're coming here for revelations aren't you?

{two}

I'm kinda digging for positives this week though to be honest. Not that life is terrible, or giant bad things have happened, but this week has been so hard parenting wise. I'm not sure what has changed. I homeschool, my kids are around me all the time, summer is not exactly a big change, but I'm really feeling worn down. Just the same dealing with constant discipline issues, and tantrums, and a more difficult child than usual. Is it just me? Am I losing my parenting grip? Do I need to go back to parenting school for a refresher? Is it just because he's a difficult child? It's not that it's a bunch of terrible things, but more of a constant dealing with screaming, obstinance, refusing to listen, constant arguments, tantrums. And his behaviour is light years better when it's just dad at home. I'm just not sure what I should be doing, but simultaneously feeling like I really stink at this job and sorta want to give up and he's only three! 

{three}

At the same time, it seems so far that my kids really have a hard time being three. It's been the hardest age for all my kids so far, so I know logically that it will get better. But in the day to day it is really hard to keep that in mind. 

I think I need a break. Or a restart. Or something! Ahh!! Just going a little crazy, nothing to see here.

{four}

Today I'm writing the devotion at Blessed Is She. Today's Mass readings include the story of God speaking to Abraham and the establishment of the covenant between God and Abraham. What struck me was that God wanted to use Abram's marriage to establish this important covenant between himself and humanity. He could have used anything, but the emphasis on marriage really struck me when I wrote this devotion about two months ago. 

I’ve always found the story of Abraham fascinating because it seems like a strange story that one of God’s first ways of revealing Himself to man would take place within the context of a man’s relationship with his wife. Not with a king or ruler deciding the fates of people or the building of temples, but God communicating with a man about the relationship he has with his wife and the building of a family. 

Click on over to read the whole thing!

{five}

I had no idea that this devotion about marriage would be published on this day when such a monumental decision was made by SCOTUS. Marriage isn't something that's malleable to human desires and wants. Although, we've been living throughout the last century or so as if it is. Courts, public opinion, laws, may say marriage is one thing but we can't get around the reality that God believes in the importance of marriage between a man and a woman. 

Five people decided for a whole country what marriage means. Five. Can we just think about that on a democratic level for a second? How do five unelected people have so much power? I find that to compound the error of this decision. We've lost so much when it comes to fundamental understanding of what freedom means, democracy means, truth means. 

{six}

On a cheerier note! Haley and I had a fun time talking books again on another book swap episode of the podcast! I know that these episodes are kinda hit or miss it seems, it seems people either really love them or don't listen to them at all, but this time we discussed to really interesting books and I thought it was pretty entertaining. I hope you get a chance to listen!

{seven}

We've also started a Fountains of Carrots Facebook group where we hope to have a bit of space to encourage conversation about the various topics we discuss on the podcast. We'd love to have you join us! We're probably going to take at least the month of July off when it comes to podcasting, mostly because Haley is going to be driving around the country, so we hope the group will be a place where we can stay in touch! 

Hope you all have a wonderful weekend! My husband's taking has the next five days off so I'm hoping for a productive/recharging break of sorts, but we'll see about that! 

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Seven Quick Takes vol. 123

Visit Kelly and the great takers for more!

{one}

I don't honestly know why I can't blog anything lately. But I have to keep up the quick takes for my sanity. If anything. I swear I'm having thoughts - it's just that everyone else is writing them so much better than I could anyway! 

{two}

It's been kinda the week where you're already feeling a bit overwhelmed and yet each day a little something more gets added on top. It's nothing horrible, it's really just life stuff, ya know? Life stuff in the sense that everyone has crosses and that's just a fact. I know mine could be much worse which makes me feel like I should just get on with it, but at the same time I'm soooo tired of having to grow so much in "perseverance" and "fortitude". I guess my faith and hope are dwindling in one area and I feel like calling it quits. When do you get to say "uncle" in the hard stuff? Because I'm passing over nine years and I am oh so tired of it. 

There. My cryptic spiritual angst for the day. Apologies.

{three}

On a really wonderful note that made my whole week was this beautiful post written by Colleen on motherhood and finding that sweet spot of pursuing your own interests while giving your vocation of motherhood everything you've got. I really think that the thing is that the two aspects aren't meant to be separate. They may look very different from what we think we want or what pre-supposed pictures we had for ourselves, but they can still exist and give you a lot. 

I think what gets tangled is that we equate "having it all" with both giving of yourself in your vocation to motherhood and pursuing your interests. But "having it all" at one time doesn't exist. I think the fact that women are still pressured to pursue "having it all" is from the mistaken feminist idea that having it all is just being as successful professionally as a man, or pursuing your own wants and desires to the fullest extent. I think from the Catholic understanding of motherhood, in that each woman regardless of vocation or biological procreation, is called to that journey and life giving. It's about self-sacrifice and humility most of the time, and it calls us to holiness which is much greater and a much bigger thing than simply a successful career path that imitates a man's corporate ladder climbing. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not anti-feminism, I'm just saying that the culture in which we've grown up is a feminism that is incomplete. That doesn't give us a true understanding of what motherhood is and that motherhood is meant to be life-giving not only to our children but to ourselves. And life-giving to ourselves means becoming whole-er, holier people who may be sacrificing for their families, but at the same time still able to pursue interests and work and tons of other things in different contexts than we naturally assume, in a different time frame than we assume we have to make it all happen within. 

Anyways! Big thoughts, I'm not sure thats very clear, but Colleen's post was so great and I'm truly flattered that my rambles sparked such smart thoughts. Go check it out.

{four}

Gemma's first confession is tomorrow and I'm totally freaking out she isn't prepared. I think it's probably a lot of first child anxiety which I need to just get through. Power through those knee-jerk first child freak outs, Christy!!

I'm really excited for her, and she's really excited, and I'm sure it'll be fine. Great. Just going to talk myself down over here...

{five}

This week of not doing any school work has been really nice. The kids are running around all the time, I'm constantly trying to keep tabs on the big kids who are riding bikes everywhere -- and Max who doesn't really have much regard for staying within my sight lines. In short; not quite sure if it's easier than school days. I'm reminded of how crazy I am to homeschool at this time of year when everyone begins freaking out their kids will be home...I think, "huh, maybe I really am nuts having them around all the time??!!" It's weird to think there's another possibility! 

{six}

We had a lot of fun talking about saints and alcohol this week on the podcast with Michael Foley. His new book Drinking with the Saints is really fantastic. Saints + cocktails is a recipe for success I think. I talked about my love of St. Germaine, and I think I'm going to buy some bubbly tomorrow so I can make the cocktail we talked about in the episode! We'll see how it tastes! I'm also on a mission to only by alcohol with a saint name. 

Next week on the podcast Haley and I are answering listener questions, and they mostly turned out to be a lot of questions on motherhood stuff and I think we rambled quite eloquently. We aren't really giving any advice, just our thoughts so tune in next week.

{seven} 

The lilacs are blooming so it really is the most wonderful time of the year! Yes, it's really late for lilacs and I know everyone south of me was posting lilac pics in April, but give a poor Canadian girl a break. My whole house is filled with them and the smell is really divine. I wish they lasted longer - or year round!

Hope you all have a wonderful June weekend!

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When Easter Feels Harder Than Lent

There is so much talk about Lent. Offering things up, focusing on penance and fasting bringing us closer to God, embracing the difficult alongside Christ's suffering on the cross. And all that talk of Lent is good! As a mom of young kids it's great and hopeful to hear that my small insignificant discomforts, sacrifices, or difficulties are redeemed when offered alongside Jesus. It gives all the miserable and difficult things in daily life with small people a dignity and light that I usually ignore altogether. But what about Easter? It's not just a one day event, it's given 50 days of celebration and observance by the Church each and every year because it is the thing that matters. But what happens when our days don't look like Easter?

I didn't give up anything extreme or take up a rigorous spiritual discipline this Lent. I talked it over with my spiritual director and concluded that I was barely getting through the daily grind of 5 small people in my care, the need to take on more to embrace suffering seemed superfluous at best, and unfair to everyone else at worst. I was supposed to focus more one the little everyday things: like looking to stop snapping at the fiftieth request for water during a 15 minute period, or gracefully living through the meal-time tantrums, or having patience when no one could find their shoes or zip up jackets when we were supposed to be out the door ten minutes ago. As moms we don't have to go to look for sackcloth and ashes because there's always a rogue virus or another ear infection to require constant, unrelenting attention and compassion and unknown hours of lost sleep and the incurring exhaustion. There's not a lot more self-mortifying than dealing with diaper disasters, or the umpteenth bathroom "accident" in your normal day. Lent happens all the time around us in our own homes, provided by our own offspring.

But what happens after Easter Sunday? We're supposed to embrace our new life, rejoice in Christ's triumph over sin, see renewal in our souls and our lives. And yet...our days look identical to Lent. We still deal with, day in and day out, the same small annoyances, the same challenges to embrace love when it's difficult, the same bathroom messes.

I'm trying to find Easter renewal as a mom. But the weariness of the constant life as mom has no room for renewal. There are no "days off" or even time off the mounting laundry or the three meals a day that are always needed. Renewal and new life seem to mean something drastic and changing, or at least some kind of visible change from the days of fasting and penance, don't they? Tell that to the mom who still has sick kids, still wakes up three times a night to nurse her baby, still gets up everyday to face the whining and tantrums.

I believe in Easter. I believe in the miraculous and astounding fact of the Resurrection. I know that this Resurrection and promise of new life completely transforms. I know the miracle of new life as I've held my newborn baby and felt my breath taken away. New life is staggering and marvellous. It changes things.

But that's why Easter is so hard when our outward situation, our outward circumstances have no reflection of our spiritual reality of our liturgical year. We've got to admit it's not even just us moms who have it rough, it's the human condition. It's so much easier for us to see the difficult and sufferings rather than the joys and triumphs.

But we're an Easter people, we all have to figure out how to live the joy of the Resurrection. I don't know how to do that right now to be honest. I'm not sure how I change what I've been seeing for all of Lent (and all my life) as annoyances, frustrations, and sufferings to things that should be taken with joy. I'm not saying that an attitude will change how hard and downright crumby all those things can be. But I do want to find renewal, somehow even in the midst of all this...mothering that never ceases. It might take me more years, my whole mothering career, my whole life. This is one of the reasons why the Church celebrates Easter every single year for 50 days. It takes practice for all of us.

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On Falling on My Face as a Mom in Lent

Oh, Lent.

It's always shockingly surprising when we go into Lent at how quickly we can be shown that we really do have a lot to figure out, and be humbled about, and how badly sin has warped our every facet of mind and heart.

It's been just a week and I think I've already had hearty wake up call.

Yesterday was one of those days. With a girl confined to the couch with a bad cough, cold and grey weather, and toddlers climbing the walls it felt like a long day. It felt a million times longer when my husband called to say he'd be home late, and late as in hours past the kids would have to be in bed. The last two waking hours of the kids' day was full of tantrums, fights, refusals, protests, talking back, yelling and screaming. Enduring a meal with them alone at 6 pm felt like another level of torture, and I should have just made them jam and toast instead of a meal that was fought over with actual vegetables. I fell on my face because I tripped on one of the many toys strewn dangerously on every square foot of the floor. I was frustrated and fuming by the time everyone was tucked into dark rooms.

Of course, afterwards I stewed in my failure. More frustration, more failure. And of course I could mention all the blah, blah, blah about grace and motherhood and starting again. Because we all know it. But at that moment of stewing and bubbling in your actual failure and actual frustration you would really rather punch something than hear another rambling and emotive sermon. Or at least I would.

The problem in my head is that it felt like failure and it really was failure. But I feel at this stage of the game, almost 8 years into parenthood, I should have a little less face to face with this abject suck-age. I want to be tangibly better at this. I want more success. I want less crash and burns. I want my motherly love to wrap up neatly into a square box that can be distributed daily at fixed times and accepted in a polite manner. I want my parenting prowess to shoot straight up in a nice line. I don't want fluctuations. I want some order and progress. I want accomplishment.

Parenting, and more especially at-home motherhood, has no visible production checklists for the day. We can't wake up and get the kids fed and clothed and be successful. There are way too many intangibles that make up motherhood. There are so many emotions, personalities, unknowns in just one day to make what we do equal success and accomplishment impossible. It's all complicated and mixed up and nothing at all fitting neatly in a box. That's why in part, it is so hard to go from having a job that everyday you accomplish things and are recognized for and see what you create, to being at home in a jungle of invisible heights to climb and unseen castles to build. Sure, in the long term, and even shorter span of years we see our efforts in the growth of our children, but in the day to day when faced so often with our own inadequacies that growth and accomplishment is just not there.

But that is all a problem of my own. I'm the one who searches for progress, accomplishment, production. I'm the one who wants efficiency in the loving of my own children. I want to love in a small, tight, cramped box when really, motherly love is a wild, unfettered, sunshine that should spread and light up everything in it's path with nothing left untouched. Which is only accomplished with crushing my own pride and practicing generosity. In other words dying to self in order to really love.

I realize that so often my parenting failures are the result of my stinginess. My refusal to accept the reality of the chaos and unorganized, and instead love the whole of it. My pride wants to put my children, my day, my house, my mothering in a tight, small box. When love is the light that wants to flood everything, even in my messy house full of children who just want to yell. This Lent I want to fast and pray to submit my pride in order for true generosity and love to grow.

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January: Digging Real Deep

You guys know me -- I'm fairly confident I could win Miss Cabin Fever 2014 from last year. I had a really rough winter last year with a nursing baby, 4 other small people who don't navigate the world on their own, and so many days of bitter cold and not getting out of the house. January is just the worst. And Canada just seems to pour on the bad weather during this month, it's so dark and dreary with no festivities to look forward to, etc. etc. etc. It's a big, unavoidable pile of dismal.

This January I'm trying to do a little better. I don't have a nursing baby so I'm getting out of the house a little more, although not as much as I should, and I'm trying to dig deep for positivity to distract myself from how long this bemoaned month is.

On the better side of things since I can't get out the house I've figured that I might as well hunker down and do some major decluttering and organizing. The New Year gives me a bit more motivation in this department and since last week I've got TWO whole areas cleaned and organized. Which seems like a pittance of course, to you single ladies with all the uninterrupted time, but to me when organizing only happens in the 2-3 minute segments I try and hide from my kids it's an accomplishment. And accomplishments make January stomach-able. (That should really be a word by the way.)

Homeschooling has been plugging along, and since there are fewer distractions I feel as if we're making good progress just repeating and getting in a bit of groove with things. I think that's the beauty of ordinary days because that's where the real habits form and where real learning happens - slowly over time. If we're looking for positive, then it's a positive that we're chugging along nicely, getting things done, reading good books, everyday even for a small amount of time each day. Woot!

I'm also giving myself a little leeway to take things easy on myself even though I'm trying to organize the house a little, and clean more which really take up what extra time I've got in the in-betweens of caring for babies. Maybe I should just read a little more, maybe an episode of Parenthood isn't the end of the world, or chatting with a friend is more important folding another basket of laundry. I just find that when I think those things aren't important I get much more irritable and angry and frustrated and that's what begins the downward cycle of winter-hating-stay-at-home-mom-depression.

This winter I've been cross country skiing with the husband on the weekends and it's been really nice. As much as I hate physical activity it is worlds better to get outdoors and do something, and have a reason to go outdoors in the cold, than to spend another day never seeing the sun. I'm also trying to do this little 7 minute workout everyday because it's 7 minutes. 7 minutes is the sweet spot of workouts am I right?? Seriously, I go for it for 7 minutes, then feel no qualms whatsoever settling in with a glass of wine in the evening. Sure, I'm not losing lots of pounds but I'm moving and every little bit helps in that department. When I'm feeling really ambitious or stressed I still love to do the SoulCore workout because I feel worlds better after doing it.

What also puts a little pep in my step are new glasses. I'm a glasses-a-holic I know, but I figure since I have to wear them they should be an accessory. Elton John is on to something here. I've recently gotten a pair from Firmoo that I'm really loving. I hope ombre isn't passé because I'm fully on board the two year old trend with this pair of glasses. Firmoo have a great selection of glasses, and a price point that makes it really easy to add a pair to your collection without breaking the bank. It's a little something you could do to perk yourself up in the dregs of winter!

Oh - also a quick happy in January - some Jamberrys. I'm getting a bit addicted to these nails. They're easy, they never chip, they've got many great patterns that make me smile.

And another thing! A daughter who's becoming quite the 7 year old blog photographer for her mum!



         

  

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Choosing Peace This Advent When You're The Mom To Littles

Well, everyone, we're almost to the middle of Advent. We've got a finite amount of time left to prepare ourselves and families for the coming of Christ. And don't I know it that there are varietal mountains of things to get done and do for Christmas. If you're like me and have a handful of small people who depend upon you, trying to keep your sanity can become something like walking a tightrope until December 25.

I know how much work you're already doing. Right now just keeping my kids alive and our house afloat takes up a lot of energy. I hit the couch exhausted by 7 pm because five little people have needed me for their 60 cups of water, 10 times of getting everyone dressed to go outside, the preparation of every meal, the patience to deal with the spills and upsets and tantrums. It's a lot, it's important, and it's our daily duty and vocation.

As Christmas and Advent roll up I can feel the pressure to do more things, and a growing endless to-do list grows in my head. But I can't change the fact that even adding one more activity to our day can throw a wrench in our entire day, sending me spinning in a swirl of catching up and getting by.

But I want to buy all the gifts, and give everyone in our lives a small token of how we treasure them. I want to send all the Christmas cards, bake all the cookies, decorate all the things, celebrate everything there is to celebrate in this wonderful season! I also want to prepare, observe, sit quietly and appreciate the anticipation that Advent is meant to be.

Right now with all these little kids I've got to accept the fact that all that needs to happen and the time and energy I have don't quite match up. Even with simplifying, prioritizing, and selecting there's no getting around the fact that life with small children involves a lot of elbow grease and that Christmas adds even more to our plate. The reality is I need to pace myself and slow myself down. I have to come to grips that only the most important events will get us out of the house and only then with a good helping of effort and more work.

I've whittled things down, chosen carefully, but still the nagging persists in the back of my mind: "Do more, do more, do more..."

So, what's a girl to do?

I've gotta tell myself the sassy advice I doled out last year: calm-the-Jesse-Tree-down!

We can't get around the many things we need to do day in, day out as the mom to little ones. Even by parring things down there will be a lot of work for us this holiday season, there's no getting around it as we prepare our homes and families for Christmas, but we can choose mental peace this Advent. 

I don't have to give into that nagging temptation to do, to do, to do. This is so hard for me because if I have a spare moment instead of settling in the peace I feel hear the urge to keep doing, knock some more chores off that Christmas list, or even -- do more! I feel as if I may turn into a slave to these terrible temptations of lists in the back of my mind.

I feel like the lists and things that need to be done must consume all my time. But the fact is they really don't. Sure, it's a lot that needs to get done and most of it will need to be done by me, but I'm being a bit melodramatic in thinking it will take all 14 days left in Advent and all 24 hours of each day to complete them. The truth is if I devote a bit of time everyday to the intimidating NEED TO GET DONE list I'll make loads of headway. I enjoy the time I spend baking cookies while listening to my favourite podcasts with the kids, and I can wrap presents while watching Peaky Blinders with my husband. I can focus on enjoying entertaining friends and family because no one ever remembers if I had another appetizer or dessert out on the table - they remember the great times of being together.

At the end of the day the nagging to-do list can rob me of my mental peace. Mental peace is one of the gifts of Advent. God calls us to change, prepare ourselves, remodel our interior selves to better receive Christ at Christmas. But we have to actively choose to say no to the disruption of our inner peace and choose internal quiet, even from our own minds. I keep reminding myself that what needs to be done will get done, and it will get done little by little, I don't have to turn myself into a grump to do it, and I don't have to kill myself for a list of my own making.

It's really amazing how just making that simple, conscious choice to not do, do do, not struggle to get the endless done, to pace my work, changes how I approach my day. It tweaks my attitude towards one of mental peace. The many things that need to be done still need to be done of course, but my attitude helps in figuring out how to best do those tasks, maybe even enjoy myself while doing them, and making time and mental space to enjoy this festive season. We can't do it all as moms of littles, but we do a lot. Let's make the choice for our own peace this Advent.

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I Want To Build A Living Church

A few weeks ago I piled the kids into the car and drove a few miles down the road to have a picnic in the shadow of a beautiful country church. Our area is dotted every few miles with small, simple, yet beautiful churches that were first built by the Ukrainian, Polish, and other Eastern Europeans who settled the area over a hundred years ago. They were settlers who left horrendous political conditions, many were peasants who were treated as property by the rulers of the land that often changed with the winds. These pioneers came to a vast, empty country with harsh weather and little resources other than their own hard work and ambition to finally create their own lives. They traveled across this enormous country, dug through snow and ice, chopped, ploughed, planted and lived a difficult but free life in a new country a world away from where they were born. Along with this courage they brought their faith, and although they lived very simply they would band together with their nearest neighbours to construct a small, log church where a priest could visit whenever possible to give them the sacraments. Miles from the nearest community, there would be a tiny, sacred space built by farmers that showed how much they valued their faith in God who gave them a life fraught with suffering and hardship, but remained with them. The churches appear from seeming nowhere in farmers fields, pastures, or a clearing in the woods, like sprouts of spring flowers in a wilderness.

When I first moved to this area I worked with seniors and I remember one man telling me about building the town's Catholic Church in the early 1960's. He remembered figuring out difficulties involved with digging out the basement, assembling the framing of the walls of the church during violent winds, hoisting the roof trusses. He recalled these memories with a fond pride, a feeling of real accomplishment in tangibly helping build the Church where he could. A humble, small-town church which a bishop named Karol Wojtyla would one day visit.

I couldn't help but be moved by the romanticism of physically building a Church. Helping to make something substantial and visible that revealed your beliefs to the world. A task done to build up God's church on earth in a physical, real world. What a life accomplishment to look back and remember building a house of God. Images of the craftsmen who worked their whole lives building Chartes danced in my head.

But now the majority of these beautiful testaments to the first settlers of this country are empty. They are barred, boarded, and locked up. Many have been desacralized by the dioceses and have fallen into disrepair, victims to our harsh winters. The sacred spaces meant for worship go unvisited, unseen. People maintain the property surrounding the churches, but within there is no life. They have become just shells of a once living and active faith. Within two generations the faith that sacrificed to build a community church out of what little resources were to be had have been abandoned and forgotten by the communities of their descendants.

Every time I pass such a church I feel simultaneously inspired by the faith that once existed, and sorrowful for the absence of that faith today. I imagine the people who built those churches as they hauled logs to erect the walls, how they must have dreamed of adding the beauty of an altar, a special crucifix, a stunning icon. I see the family events that must have been celebrated there, the baptisms, the weddings; but also the grief and mourning of the deaths of small children, parents who died of illness, victims of farm accidents. Through all the workings of life the people would have gone to that church, a humble space in a wide, empty prairie which contained Christ the King in the Blessed Sacrament. They would have participated in the Mass along with the angels there in those echoey and draughty structures. The grace of Almighty God would have flowed to those people there through baptism, confession, marriage, anointing. Priests would have lived a life a sacrifice and difficulty to minister to these isolated areas, to people who spoke different languages, and in the burgeoning towns and communities. These churches represent that faith which was present in those people's lives and lives lived in faith.

I still think of the romanticism and privilege it would be to build a church. To hammer and nail or stack bricks or sculpt or design a testament to God here on earth. However, now when I think of building a church it occurs to me that I am indeed building the Church, through forming the little souls of my children that make up the Body of Christ. I'm forming immortal bricks who can choose to live a faith I pass down to them. These living pieces of the Church have incalculable potential. Their precious lives matter to God right now and as they grow and hopefully learn to live and love the faith my work in building will live on.

I want to be part of building a living Church, fully alive with an active faith. I want to build a Church that understands the value of suffering; that is able to appreciate true joy even in the midst of hardship. I want to build up a faith that is knowledgable and applicable to daily life, that will be with my children day in and day out, a faith that is truly lived. I want to build up a Church that knows the intimate and ever-flowing love of Christ; that seeks forgiveness, grace, and life in the Sacraments. I want to build a church that will not succumb to the elements, that will not become soft and rot. It is a lofty goal, only accomplished through God's grace, but it will remain my prayer as I make it my life's work.

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Seven Quick Takes vol. 101

Thanks to Jen for supporting random thought dumps once a week, every week.

{one}

I feel like I have approximately 550 million things to get done around here, but I'm going to blog anyway! Mostly because I'm probably going to spend the afternoon in the doctor's office getting little Peggy's leg looked after again. We'll get more x-rays and probably a new cast. I don't want to get my hopes up that she'll be completely healed today. It'd be nice, but I doubt it. 

{two}

So, I know I've been a huge dump of motherly guilt/failures lately, I won't change the blog name quite yet, but here's more. 

This week I've noticed Nora screams every time I sit down to read to the kids. I thought for the longest time it was just grumpiness, needing to nap, etc, but no...it's because I'm sitting and reading to everyone. She's gotten to be pretty clingy lately and she just screams and screams and I honestly don't know what I should be doing. Throwing her in her crib I guess, but screaming. 

I never wanted to be that mom who copped out about having other children to deal with and thus let the younger ones run around like wild beasts, but there are SO many children running around here. I like and understand Kendra's tips for sure, and I want to deal with things the majority of the time like Nell talks about in her great tips this week too. but I just feel as one child is throwing a fit and needs to be physically removed, I'm holding or nursing the baby, and there has always been a baby and multiple toddlers. I think I've gotten behind the eight-ball so-to-speak because I just revert to yelling at everyone while holding the baby and being unable to physically remove and calm them down. I have the shortest of wicks due to the constant bombardment of questions, and comments, and needs. I know it starts from me, so my constant screaming at everyone isn't helping anything or anyone. I totally get it. But I'm feeling pretty stuck and buried in my own crappiness. I think I've noticed it more in the last couple weeks because my husband has been working so much overtime, weekends, late nights. It's been just me on the parenting home front and I'm just seeing it more I guess. There's been more emotional outburst from the older kids too so it's just been a smorgasbord of bad behaviour around here. It's all exhausting. 

Sorry, just thought I'd get that out there...for no reason other than my own venting.

{three}

If you follow me on Instagram I'm sorry for the rehash, but we've gotten so much great photographic evidence of the crazy wildlife around our house lately.

Last week I saw a little black bear on the side of the road while coming home from the city. Then a few days ago my husband saw A LYNX just a mile or two from our house! Lynx are rarely seen, and I don't think we even thought they lived in this area so it was a wildlife highlight. I however, did not go for my nightly walk down that road, but completely chickened out and walked in the field in sight of the house!

{four}

This week went better than last in no small part because the weather was BEAUTIFUL! Our falls are so tragically short we have to enjoy every bit of them. And this week the temperatures were warm, the leaves turned golden, and it really helped my attitude (if not the screaming). 

I've also taken a bazillion and one photos and will probably take a bazillion more this weekend!

{five}

Am I the only one addicted to the PBS documentary series, The Roosevelts that aired this week? I love me a good historical documentary. Couple that with my almost medically documented addiction to biographies of the Presidents of the United States (of which I am not even a citizen) and it's basically my tv dream come true. 

As much as I love Paul Giamatti, I can't help want to scream at the tv: "You can't be Theodore Roosevelt, you're John Adams!!"

My husband was thankful he was working everyday this week and has only been forced to watch an hour or two.

{six}

Anybody cooked some good fall feeling recipes lately? I'm fully ready for good, warm, one-pot dinners which are my favourite to cook. I made the Pioneer Woman's pot roast this week and it was heaven! 

Oh, I'm Canadian and don't even know what pecan pie tastes like, but Britt's Pecan Pie muffins looked so yummy! 

And I think banana bread needs to be made soon judging by the darkening fruit on my counter. Anyone wanna come over and bake for me?

{seven}

No big plans for us this weekend as my husband only has tomorrow off, but I was going to weasel everyone into a family fall photo, which I'm sure will cause all sorts of tears. Fingers are crossed!

Happy Weekend!

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