Here's to 4 years of wedded bliss!

From the back of our Nuptial Mass program (copies of which were found during the annual flip through the wedding album):

"How can i ever express the happiness of a marriage joined by the Church, strengthened by an offering,
sealed by a blessing,
announced by the angels,
and ratified by the Father?...
How wonderful the bond between two believers,
now one in hope,
one in desire,
one in discipline,
one in the same service!
They ar both children of one Father and servants of the same Master, undivided in spirit and flesh - truly two in one flesh. Where the flesh is one, one also is the spirit."

(Tertullian, 'Ad Uxorem'- Latin for "To his wife")

And because it's - amazing - i'm adding the following:

Respice, quaesumus, Domine, super hos famulos tuos:
et institutis tuis, quibus propagationem humani generis ordinasti, benignus assiste; ut qui te auctore junguntur, te auxiliante serventur. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.

Trans: "Look down, we beseech Thee, O Lord, upon these Thy servants, and graciously protect this Thine ordinance, whereby Thou hast provided for the propogation of mankind; that those who are joined together by Thine authority may be preserved by Thy help. Through Christ our Lord. Amen."
(from The Ritual for the Celebration of Matrimony)

Merry Christmas

A simple shot proving that the two of them weren't that naughty after all.

Or maybe they paid-off the elves....

Not too shabby...

... considering noone was behind the camera to attract baby eyes or provoke smiles.

A blessed and happy Christmas (Eve) to everyone!!

The Living Room Floor

Beware of it.

Especially if it’s overrun with little human beings and their toys.

If you are brave (substitute ‘presumptuous’) enough to lay down on it, don’t be disillusioned about blending in with the carpet.

You will become a toy. A mountain, in fact, and the insides of your unsuspecting pajamas will become uncharted territory for various stuffed creatures’ expeditions.

If you have fine instincts and are capable of bracing yourself for imminent bodily damage, you’ll be able to anticipate a drooling baby gripping fists full of your hair just before toppling to the floor, and when the roots of it are torn from your scalp, you’ll silently wince instead of yelp in agony.

And speaking of hair, - which barely got shampooed yesterday and wasn’t scheduled for another washing for at least a few more days - if you hear a baby make a really wet barfing sound over the back of your head, be sure to hastily ask the observant toddler, “Did she spuke in my hair?!!” so as to prevent far-reaching tress disaster.

Marking Time

As time continues to move on, and i become ever more keenly aware of the fact that mine here is limited, i am always supremely impressed at all the blessings and pains that can be packed into a single year.

For instance, yesterday made one year since we moved out here into the beautiful countryside. In that time, which simultaneously seems like a blink and an eternity, so much has - happened.

I gave birth to our second child.
We got a flock of chickens, built their housing, and began selling their eggs.
Our firstborn turned 3, learned to dress himself, and got 6 hair cuts.
He also learned how to fish and go sledding.
My husband created endless gardens and veg plots, and fed our family.
A brother of mine got married to his high school sweetheart.
Our first neice came into the world, making another of my brothers a proud papa.
A bunch of old trees got chopped down, and Joe planted an orchard in their place.
Some friends are now beholding the face of God.
I mowed a lawn for the first time. I also "learned" how to drive a manual.
Joe shot his first muskrat. I saw my first dead muskrat.
Thomas saw a baby field mouse, and then showed it to Rosemarie.
I beheld a sky full of brilliant stars,
heard the wind laugh through leaves as if it were the ocean waves crashing on the shore,
and got a sunburn - all in one summer's day at home.
My husband led us on countless walks through a woods that he earned for us by his daily work.
Our little girl grew and grew and keeps on getting sweetly bold.

A snippet of the countless amazing things that have happened in the last 365 days.
Nonetheless, it is so good for us to stop and recollect even the most minute details of our lives, and to remember that it is by them that we are prepared for eternal life.

Three at Last

A very happy birthday to the sweetest little boy in my life! You are a great treasure, dear boy! *Smoooooooch!*

This morning, he woke up in a mood much like this one pictured 3 years ago.
His mood is softening with the reminder that there'll be cake and icecream later today. ;)

What kind of a mom does he have?!

If a toddler said to you, in a matter of fact sort of way,

"So, Mommy, Steve (of Blue's Clues fame) is gonna take me to see Rush Limbaugh today. After my nap,"

what would you do?


(And do you think Mr. Snerdly would let us on the program if i shared with him my 3 year old's love and enthusiasm for the E.I.B. Network?)

Snowfall at long last

A glorious adorning of creation.

'Tis clear we're not the only ones doing the beautifying for the holy season.

An Historical Moment

that will be included only in the most meaningful of textbooks:

For the first time since the last month of my pregnancy with Rosemarie, i was able to get my wedding ring off my finger.

(Cue confetti)

Serve with Milk

Say it with me,
"Caramel Chocolate Popcorn."

Pop some corn.
In a separate bowl, combine and microwave
8 jumbo marshmallows,
1/3 cup brown sugar,
and 3 tbsp of butter or margarine for 2 minutes.
Mix up the sugary goodness and then add the popcorn, stirring until coated.

Melt some chocolate bark coating, and drizzle it over the caramel-ed corn. You can then wait until the choco cools and break it apart to eat, or, if you absolutely must eat it right away, dont let me stop you. It's good gooey, too.

My Name is Mommy

The toddler has taken a recent interest in full names.

During the latest recital of the first-middle-last name litany, i became Mommy Lynn Schmiesing.

My instincts drove me to correct this innocent mistake so as to ensure that he'd make it back to me should he ever get lost in WalMart. But then wonderment at childrens' childlike understanding of what a person is took over and kept me from speaking up.

Mommy Lynn Schmiesing - that is what i am to him. That's who i am to him.
And that is my name.
I am honored, and i am blessed.

how to stay holy while doing Christmas shopping

First of all, never EVER shop on Black Friday, unless you generally enjoy shopping and can go without the kids. If you are me, always obey this rule.

Secondly, never leave the comfort of your home. Shop only on the internet, while the husband is at work and kids are napping or eating and you're drinking a fresh cup of coffee or indulging in the gourmet chocolate your husband gave you for your birthday. (Yes, he is the greatest.) Order all presents from the sea of online retailers, who (surprise surprise) often grant the same mark-downs to online shoppers as they do to walk-in cutomers.

While you're at it, make someone who is already getting paid to deliver things in the icy cold weather bring you the items you paid them for. You might spend a few extra dollars on shipping and handling - but you can justify this if you live in the country, since every trip into town costs you circa $3, not counting the emotional cost car rides have on babies who hate carseats.

That's how I've done all of my Christmas shopping this year.
Doing so has kept me from turning shopping into an occassion of sin - which often happens, and for a variety of reasons which i'll discuss much much later, of course.

And since the gifts i'm buying are given in order to honor the birth of Christ, it's immensely important that i stay holy while doing all the Christmas prep work.

apologies

to those faithful bloggers who visit this poor little page day in and day out, hoping to find something new and interesting to read.

It's been one crrrrazy week.

I have some great ones coming:
about 7 month old opposum babies who cheat death (no, not the animal),
our latest mouse adventures and how brave my kitchen broom makes me feel,
posts on my husband's stealthy sweetness,
my reaction to some of Grimm's fairy tales,
initiation into the club of parents-of-kids-who-get-hurt-at-holiday-gatherings,
the infamous "Black Friday" and how i managed to escape its allure,
our Eve of Christ the King weenie roast,
and the list goes on.

Oh, and a happy belated Thanksgiving!

If my life were rated

it would be labeled with a big and fat

PG
FOR MILD RUDE HUMOR
AND SOME PERIL

Hard for me to avoid when i have a mature husband, a crazy, not-yet-in-full-command-of-his-ability-to-discern-between-safety-and-danger toddler, and an infant who is determined to choke on at least 4 dangerous objects per day living under one roof.

For my friend, Heidi

and for anyone else who might be interested in the most delicious recipe of the century.

Banana Chocolate Chip Cookies (from Faith and Family Magazine)

2 c. flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
3/4 c. butter
1 c. brown sugar
1/3 c. granulated sugar
1 egg
2 tsp. vanilla
2 medium ripe bananas
12 oz. semi sweet chocolate chips

mix ingredients, and spread in a greased 13x9inch baking pan. Bake 350 fir 25-30minutes or until golden brown and top is firm to the touch. Cool and cut into bars. Devour by yourself (unless you're not pregnant, in which case you should probably share one or maybe two if you're a really big sinner and need to fit in some extra works of charity and self denial).

Argument for Divine Providence of Religion

I'm by no means being original when i say this, as i know St. Thomas Aquinas has already tackled the topic quite successfully, but here goes anyway:

In a world where EVERYTHING has order and system,

the structure of atoms,
the way a child forms in the womb and is birthed,
the way our hair grows,
the ocean tide,
the petrification of a tree,
the organization of the solar system,
the passage of time,
mathematics, language, and music - all disciplines learned systematically,

why are we so arrogant to say that the Creator of humanity fails, neglects, or cares not to give us one ordered and systematic way to relate to Him and know Him, to love Him and serve Him?

In a world of intellectual pride, where each man pretends to understand human nature more than God Himself does, of course we see religious apathy, multiplicity, or void.

What we've been reading

A simple list meant to pique the interest of those looking for a good read for themselves or the kiddos:

Children's Books:

The Christopher Robin Story Book (a collection of stories from When We Were Very YOung, Now We Are Six, Winnie-The-Pooh, and The House at Pooh Corner) by A.A. Milne
(Our copy is a hardback 1929 edition that has illustrations. Reading these stories and poems aloud has helped me appreciate a whole new dimension of Pooh. He's actually much deeper than his honey pot!)

A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson
(No doubt a common title in houses with little ones.)

Wonderous Rhymes and Prayer Times: The Land of Milk & Honey
(Nursery school meets the Medieval Period)

Mater Anserina: Poems in Latin for Children by Milena Minkova and Terence Tunberg
(This one comes with a cd so the little ones can hear Twinkle Twinkle LIttle Star sung in latin. Excellent! Thanks, Aunt Chrissy, for sending this one to us!)

Saints and Angels by Claire Llewellyn
(Superb full page pictures of the saints, along with feast day and patron info)

For the Adults:

Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather
(Historical fiction about the evangelization of the Southwest by French priests. A work of art - absolutely life changing.)

Father Brown by G.K. Chesterton
(I just started this one on my husband's recommendation, and it's proving to be quite excellent! To be expected from G.K.)

Kristen Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset
(1161 pages, i didnt want to skip a single sentence. This novel aided my own sanctification in its masterful examination of sin and redemption. Set in the 14th century, it's also an amazing expositon of history and Christendom. I'm holding out for The Master of Hestviken.... if i can get my hands on a copy that costs less than $30. And yes, i MUST own it. It's just that great.)

43 House Plants

We've been anticipating the first frost of the season for almost a month now. It FINALLY came last night (and with it, the death of many a fly... see the archive "Fly Smashing" for a macabre narrative).

To prepare for this, all our lovely plants that adorned our porches throughout the summer reclaimed their spots on countertops, in bedrooms, on top of china cabinets, and of course in our makeshift arboretum.

I brought in one of this year's newer additions, pictured here. It's a water iris, one of the many we grew in our pond this summer, thanks to the generous donation from my aunt and godmother. Just plunk these floatables in water, and watch their roots sprout a fine, purplish hair just before another tube shoots out of one of those green bouyant bulbs. Every 3 weeks or so, a bouquet of delicate purple flowers show up on a spike from the center of the plump foliage. Most delightful!

Bringing it inside and floating it in a glass vase on the kitchen windowsill has helped me observe the prolific generation and interesting 'behavior' of this gem of creation.

It's just one among our 43....
Our 43 are just a few among the billions that God, in His infinite creativity, holds in existence.

Miserere nobis

A family friend who has been optimistically battling cancer for the past 6 months was just told that he has little less than 2 weeks to live.

In his 20's, newly married to a beautiful young woman, a 6 month old son....

Please join me in praying for him and for his wife and son in these last days:

O most merciful Jesus, lover of souls, I beseech Thee, by the agony of Thy Most Sacred Heart and by the sorrows of Thine Immaculate Mother, wash clean in Thy Blood the sinners of the whole world who are now in their agony and who are to die this day. Amen.
V./ Heart of Jesus, who didst suffer death's agony,
R./ Have mercy on the dying.

What We're doing for Halloween

Fledgling family that we are, there are a lot of holiday traditions that have yet to be established at our home. Every year, new opportunities arise to reflect deeper upon how we celebrate holidays – be they national or faith-based.

With October drawing to a close, the mind of the becoming-ever-more-pagan-world is coming to dwell much upon the 31st, which, contrary to popular belief, is not the celebration of blood, guts, and goblins, but is rather the eve of the feast of all hallowed souls.

Quite the reason to celebrate! And that’s just what we’re going to be doing.

Here at Providence Cottage, the children will be:

1.) studying the lives of the saints for the 9 days preceding November 1st (the Solemn Feast of All Saints). We do this regularly anyway, as the saints are models of virtue and character, and many have led adventuresome lives – a fact which appeals to the limitless imagination of an almost 3year old! But starting tomorrow, special pomp and circumstance will surround our ‘study’ to further emphasize the feast we’re approaching.

2.) Baking goodies and making candies on Halloween that will be wildly consumed on the following day (though mostly by mommy). (Did I really type that?) The menu includes red waldorf cake… to honor our beloved martyrs, of course!

3.) Attending Mass and making a pilgrimage of sorts on November 1. Hopefully, we’ll have the opportunity to venerate some relics that day.

4.) And of course, visiting a cemetery to pray for the souls who are being prepared to behold the glorious face of Almighty God.

If your family is doing anything extraordinary to celebrate this great feast, please disclose your plans in the comments section!

Because i feel pressed for time....

...i am going to take the easy way out and post a picture. I hope you dont mind. No time for depth today.

Featured here are my very own Rosemarie and Sister Mary Rose. They met eachother for the first time on the campus of Franciscan University at my household's Lord's Day Celebration. Instead of reflecting on the Gospel reading, my baby was distracted by Sr. MR's cord and - you guessed it - covered it in drool.

Two of a kind

I figured an updated picture was over-due...
And yes, the dribble coming from RPS's mouth is always there.

Joe the Raccoon Slayer

Just as we’d all settled into be late last night, our sentinel dog, Lucy, sounded her alarm.

My husband is always quick to become annoyed by her incessant bark-slash-yelp, but I (most of the time) get curious. Since the babes were fast asleep and I was yet wide awake, I was looking forward to slinging a few rocks at, most likely, one from the legion of cats that continually trespass on our acreage and taunt our puppy just outside the range of her chain.

I got the flashlight and shined it out of our bedroom window toward the doghouse to get an idea as to where Lucy’s target might be lurching. She kept looking up into one of the trees. Hm? I followed her lead and guided the weak beam of light up the trunk, trying to catch sight of light-reflecting animal eyes.

I wear glasses, and my night vision is poor besides, so when I spotted the animal in the tree, I second guessed myself when I observed that it moved in a most un-catlike manner. I asked for my glasses to be fetched from the dresser for me. Cue the increasingly annoyed husband. (Oddly enough, my detailed narration of all of these events while they were unfolding did not pique his curiosity! Not my fault that he let himself fall half asleep while all this excitement was going on. Didn’t he know I was going to involve him eventually?!)

Spectacles in place, I discovered that Lucy had chased a RACCOON (!) up the tree and was harassing it from below.

If you know anything about our history involving the combination of raccoons and our flock of chickens, you can now add a newer, happier ending to a normally very predictable story. And incase you’re not a Schmies-o historian, suffice it to say that we always end up with a slaughtered flock and the raccoon runs away with a full belly and messy paws. The makings for a stomach-turning discovery for unsuspecting housewives. This time, it would not be so. All it took was a little encouragement from me to get the previously sleepy-eyed man-o-the-house out of bed and armed with a high-powered spotlight and weaponry of various kinds.

To make a very exciting and adrenaline-pumping story very short, I’ll keep it simple and share that our trusty 22 helped us reduce the risk of future raccoon terror on our property.

Parallel University

The fam and i were blessed with the opportunity to return to our alma mater this weekend.

My main reflection:
Time has passed, people have come and gone, and yet everything remains beautifully the same.
Much like Christendom.
Much like the Universal Church.

Autumn Setting In

In beautiful Ohio, the trees are just starting to turn,

the pumpkins are oranging-up,

and all those late-blooming wildflowers like asters and golden rod are starting to show their enchanting hues.

What gives?!

I did a poor job of parking in the driveway last night.
And my husband was sure to let me know about it.

"You couldnt have parked in a worse place, Erica!" he said. "Had you pulled up 5 feet more, you wouldnt have parked-in my truck."

When i told him that our 6 month old had been in hysterics for nearly 20 minutes during my drive home and that, just as i pulled up to the house, she'd vomitted for a second time (a second time!!) and began choking on it, and that THIS was the reason why i just slammed it in park without regard for the truck, he responded in a convicted and unsympathetic manner:

"That's no excuse."

Why Morning Shows are Worthless at Best

“Oh, yes! We are definitely waiting to have children until we’re financially secure,” said the confident fiancé to the middle-aged Morning Show hostess.

What does that mean? "Financially secure?" A more subjective standard doesn’t exist, I’m sure! At what point in history did it become a virtue for a young couple to proclaim that all-too-common mantra of twenty-something newly weds? And since when did it become necessary for society to make young lovers feel guilty for wanting to, without hesitation, invest in one of the greatest gifts God could ever give to spouses?

I am one who believes that children are one of the greatest riches a family could ever possess. A person. Can’t hardly put a dollar value on that! And the way I figure, if a couple can afford a wedding, they can ‘afford’ a bambino immediately thereafter.

Why purposefully deny yourself, or your spouse, or your other children that which has worth beyond measure? Why pretend it’s responsible "to save up for” that which God alone gives freely to even the most impoverished of peoples?

Perhaps the difference between this infectious Western mentality and the thinking of the poor is the degree to which each trusts in God’s Providence? I’ve heard it said that the faith of the monetarily impoverished is more easily steadfast than the faith of the wealthy… and there’s some truth to that. Being poor in spirit (financial status aside) has the same effect.

Someone once said that we cannot serve both God and mammon…. so let’s listen to that wisdom and try to straighten out our concerns. And tell those Morning Show hosts to back-off, while we’re at it.

1001 Excuses

I like to think my life is somewhat technologically advanced, seeing as how i have electricity and grocery stores and access to online shopping. But i am still disgustingly busy!

With all of the milking and plowing and sowing and harvesting and butter churning and horse breaking and mending and ale-brewing and butchering and cooking and cleaning and socializing that people of olden times did, i just dont see how they ever found the time to blog!

Fly Smashing

It’s one of my new favorite pastimes.

In the past week, it has been made clear to me that the mommy and daddy flies out in these parts are anything but Chinese. There are probably more of these winged satans per square inch in my kitchen than there are oriental personages per 1000 square miles in their country. Blame it on the weather, blame it on whatever you will - this ordeal is wreaking havoc on my obsessive-compulsive domestic self-esteem!

Unfortunately, our flyswatter was lost in the move back in December, and we’ve been unarmed out in bug country ever since. Unarmed, that is, unless you count my moves-too-slow-to-sneak-up-on-a-bug-with-a-million-eyes-hand that’s at the end of my own arm. You’re right – that hardly qualifies as an adequate executor of fly obliteration… especially if I am a little timid to get bug guts on my bare hand. Yeeesh!

Lucky for me, my husband recently left an Ohio Catholic Education Association Conference News Gazette (which boasts a session entitled Just Environmental Spirituality by Sr. Leanne M. Jablonski, FMI, Ph.D. (Pshaw!)) in the middle of the war zone.

Ahhhh, a weapon.

Now I’m whacking nasty flies like someone’s paying me to do it. And since that priceless piece of print media guarantees that my hands stay bug-gut-free, I’m smashing those good-for-only-their-Creator-knows-what-insects so fast and hard that they’re practically disintegrating on impact.

The flies are fewer. My self-image is rising. And I’m even getting compliments. Says the toddler: “Hey! Mommy, you’re good at this game! Did you know that, Mommy?”

Thank you, my dear son. I’ll be dropping a nickel in your John Deere piggy bank to compensate you for wiping up all those smashed fly guts with your breakfast napkin.

Why the laundry sits unfolded

After multiple recommendations by anonymous sisters-in-law, i finally picked up Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset. LOVE IT!! I'd like to think there are some fire-side, coffee-filled chats at future family gatherings....

We've got 'em

Bunnies!!!!!

Cute and fluffy as they are, i surprise myself that the first thing that comes to mind when i do my twice-daily bunny chores is, "Mmmm."

Should i seek therapy?

Eggs for Sale

It's official.

The hens of Honeysuckle Run are laying eggs - lots of them!

Our flock consists of 25 standard sized Barred Plymouth Rocks, Gold Laced Wyandottes, Dominiques, Light Brown Leghorns, Black Jersey Giants, and one bantam Porcelain Bearded Belgian d'Uccle. Beautiful birds!

These girls are farm raised, forage for a lot of their food, and are fed unmedicated laying feed. As close to organic as you can get without being certified. Their eggs are super healthy, have strong brown shells, and rich orange yolks.

Needless to say, despite my frequent integration of eggs into almost all of our meals, my family of 3 table eaters and one nursing babe is pretty overwhelmed by eggs right now. And we want to share the wealth.... for a small small price.

Our offer?

One dozen farm fresh eggs for $1. (N.B. This price even beats ALDI!)

If any locals are interested in purchasing these delicious eggs, you know how to contact us. ;)

Ignorance is Bliss

A headline of the National Catholic Register read the following:
HUGO’S EGO: Chavez Steps Up His Attacks on Venezuela’s Catholics

The resident toddler saw me reading this periodical, saw the bust photo of ol’ Hugo, pointed, and said, “Look, Mommy! A priest!”

Not so, my son. Not so.

The very next headline of the same edition featured a picture of polygamist Tom Green and his six wives, to which my little guy assigned this narration:

“Hey, it’s a man. And that’s his mommy, and that’s his mommy, and that’s his mommy, and that’s his mommy, and that’s his mommy, and THAT’S his mommy.”

Oy.

Father Nathan Cromly, FJ

I WILL RAISE UP FOR MYSELF

A FAITHFUL PRIEST:

HE WILL DO WHAT IS IN MY HEART

AND IN MY MIND,

SAYS THE LORD.

(1 SAM 2:35)

By the Providence of God, our family was able to attend the priestly ordination of our beloved Brother of the Community of Saint John. Here we are pictured with him, receiving his blessing. Deo Gratia!

Couldnt you just eat her?!

Manipulation

While at table, finishing our well-deserved afternoon snack of a banana chocolate chip cookie:

Toddler: “Mama, I think I need another cookie.”

Me: “Oh? You can have another if you count to 10 in Latin for me.”

Toddler: thinks for a moment and then shakes head

Me: takes another bite of cookie

Toddler: “I think no.”

Me: “Unus….”

Toddler: “I think I just need to have some of yours.”

Me: poker face

Toddler: somewhat panicked, “I think duo….”

Me: shifts eyes up in confidence

Toddler: pauses

Me: “…tria….”

Toddler: “…quattuor…”

Me: “…quinque….”

Toddler: “…sex, septum, octo, novem, DECEM!!!”

There are many ways to incorporate the language of the universal Church into ones mothering, afterall!

Heroes & Mercy

Despite my husband’s mysterious objection to watching the film himself, I took the opportunity today during the children’s naptime to view United 93.

Nearly 6 years removed from the date of this devastating attack, it is regrettably easy for me to forget this awful instigation of war on our freedom, our faith, our very existence. Watching the film took me right back to the Kartause in Gaming, Austria, where my fellow students and I sat helplessly watching the Towers drop to the ground on CNN.

We were thousands of miles and 6 time zones away from our bleeding fatherland.

Unrestrained tears streaked the faces of many as we made our way across the Carthusian courtyard to the 13th century adoration chapel, where we intoned the chaplet of the Divine Mercy, begging our Lord to spare our country and to have pity on the myriad of souls that were now standing before Him – perhaps unprepared.

After watching said dramatic depiction this afternoon, I’m confident that some souls were prepared. Whatever their background, the passengers of United 93 knew of their imminent death - and faced it bravely (much like a martyr).

From the back cover of the film:

“United 93 fully honors what was original
and spontaneous and brace in their refusal to go quietly.”
–David Denby, The New Yorker

I’ve been left thanking God for heroism, for His mercy, and for a visual aid that has the potential to get apathetic or war-weary citizens off their…well, you know.

My recommendation? We should keep praying for the Divine Mercy of Christ, and we should continue to pair that with an imitation of those who died defending themselves and their fatherland from the enemy. (*Insert shout out to the military*)

How’s that for ora et labora?

To a Catholic toddler, everything is sacred

Even The Wizard of Oz.

In our house, this fine film is refered to by a certain 2 1/2 year old as Saint Lizard of Boz.

Right up there with Saint John of the Cross, Saint Francis of Assissi, Saint Therese of Lisieux, and Saint Ignatius of Antioch... our most recently featured saints in TAN's series for children.

What i've been doing instead of blogging:

-Attending a "Desserts and Drinks Only" baby shower for my baby nephew/neice.

-Tearing up when hearing by brother and sister-in-law exchange vows.

-Hearing others tell me about how my tuxedo-clad son played baseball in the church pew with the ring pillow.

-Wiping gallons of baby puke from my (very expensive) bridesmaid gown right before pictures.

-Dancing the night away with my husband despite the fact that we each held a sleeping child.

-Indulging in some stellar reading when the kids nap.

-Pulling 4 splinters from tender toddler tootsies.

-Spending a sweet summer evening out on the pond.

-Getting my finger gnawed off by my teething baby girl, and loving it.

-Reading an article in the National Catholic Register about the persecuted Church in China, and praising God for the strength of those who are presently facing imprisonment, torture, and martyrdom for the faith.

-Drinking coffee.

-Enjoying the last days of summer with my teacher husband.

I'll be back up regularly soon....

Wedding Bells

My bro is getting married to his high school sweetheart this weekend!!!!

(As i did with my husband, so too is he following in our parents' footsteps of marrying someone who walked the halls of Lehman Catholic High School with him. Way to go, Dave!)

In light of this happy occassion, i thought i'd post a few wedding bits for everyone's edification:

1.) Fr. Fox's most recent wedding homily.

2.) From the back of our own Nuptial Mass program:

"How can I ever express the happiness of a marriage joined by the Church,

strengthened by an offering,

sealed by a blessing,

announced by the angels,

and ratified by the Father?...

How wonderful the bond between two believers,

now one in hope,

one in desire,

one in discipline,

one in the same service!
They are both children of one father and servants of the same Master,

undivided in spirit and flesh - truly two in one flesh.
Where the flesh is one, one also is the spirit."

-Tertullian, "Ad Uxorem"

St. John Vianney, Ora pro nobis.

I'd like to take this opportunity to direct your attention to the St. John Vianney Vocation Society.

My husband and i have participated in the local St. Joseph's chapter of the JVVS for a few years now. It is so amazing to be able to pray so powerfully for our priests. (Hard copies of the prayerbook can be obtained gratis, if you're like me and need a book in your hands versus a computer screen.)

"Oh, how we could merit heaven every day, my dear brethren,

by doing our ordinary duties... for God and the salvation of our souls."

-St Jean-Marie Vianney

A very happy feast day to all of our dear priests!

Roar!!!!

For the past 912.625 days of his life, our son has been listenting to my husband and me pray the rosary nightly. It wasnt until this evening, however,that a broad smile overtook his face as he loudly and very toddlerishly prayed Aves and Paters along with us.

He's an exceptionally observant boy, capable of memorizing and repeating even the most obscure parts of stories told to him. But tonight, he slipped. (He is aging, afterall!)

Observe:
Husband and Me: "...and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus."
Toddler: "...and blessed is the fruit of Lion Jesus."

"A typical toddler tongue twister!" you say.

But i say it's something more brilliant.

Wanting to make things as tangible and understandable as possible for little souls, we often employ Our Lord's own way of explaining the transcendent in ways metaphoric.
In accord with this method, we often talk to our toddler about how Jesus is the Lion of Judah, how lions are tough, kingly, etc. etc.

So to him, Jesus is THE Lion.
Naturally, anything that comes from or belongs to Jesus, has got to be blessed.

And he's right.

So tonight, i handed in my tendancy toward verbal accuracy in exchange for admiration of the adorable and accurate-in-a-perfectly-childlike-manner aspects of a toddler's prayer.

For the Conversion of the Infidels

I wanted to share this prayer that i found in a 1958 Catholic prayer book.

Most beautiful, i think, is that, unlike incomplete or false religions, we Catholics beg the mercy of God upon those who do not know Him or do not love Him as He asks instead of asking for their obliteration.

Read on. Copy and paste. Print it out. Pray it. And live it.

O eternal God, the creator of all things, remember the infidel peoples whom Thou hast created in Thine own image and likeness.
Lord, behold how, to Thy dishonor, hell is being filled with these souls. Bear in mind that Thy Son Jesus suffered a most cruel death for their salvation.
Lord, do not permit that Thy Son be further despised by these infidels, but be appeased by the prayers of Thy saints and the Church, the Spouse of Thy most holy Son. Remember Thy mercy, and blot out their idolatries and infidelities. May these peoples be ignorant no longer of Him who is our salvation, life, and resurrection, through whom we have been saved and liberated. To Him let their be glory throughout all ages. Amen.
(St. Francis Xavier)

Obsession

Quote: "Daddy.... there's John Deeres eeeeeverywhere!!!!"

A Question for my Canon Lawyer Reader (or anyone else who might know the answer)

I occassionally get 5-second slivers of time to ponder things theological.

This opportunity doesn't come very often, but when it presents itself, i am no doubt likely to stumble into areas of thought beyond my expertise. The CIC has always proven a sound reference for me, but as i no longer have access to one at my late parish office, i find myself wasting too much time searching through it on the internet. So to spare my children parental neglect, i throw it out there for all of you. Here's the latest:

At what age of the child is the will of one's parents no longer sufficient for the valid reception of the Sacrament of Confirmation?

And consider that in light of the tragically all-too-common circs. of the modern era.
(For instance, is baptized Jimmy, age 13 and totally immature on most fronts, sufficiently competent to say that he does not want to be Confirmed?
Or are mom and dad, who are mature, competent, and primarily responsible for the education of Jimmy, still able to make that act of will for him now that they made for him at his infant baptism?)

Answer and references would be appreciated....

I'm Only Mostly Lying...

...when i say that i beat my husband in a foot race to the mailbox today.

Arguements Against Laundry

I've had it.

American standards are too high.

I think we should just wear and rewear our clothes until they either stink wretchedly or have rips and tears all over them. Clean clothes never stay clean for long.

It's inevitable.

As soon as i pull crisp slacks out of the dryer, a baby is going to use my leg as a diaper.

And my toddler, who still needs potty assistance, is going to misfire and soak my shirt.

And i am going to spill German Roasted coffee on my rarely-washed-because-they-fit-better-the-more-i-wear-them jean capris, which, as fate would have it, just finished drying on the clothes line.

And the knee of my newest jeans is going to wear through just as my cowboy toddler dismounts "Mommy horse" on his way to his nap.

That's just what happens to my wardrobe in a morning.
I wont even talk about the spit up that molded on the baby's cutest shirt....

Did Thomas Aquinas give any arguements against laundry in the Summa?
I'm totally looking.

Propagation

"We multipy whenver we are mown down by you; the blood of Christians is seed."

Tertullian
Apology 50:13
Third Century

Learn from the Master

Face it.

In order to achieve total satisfaction from a chocolate covered Oreo cookie, you MUST make this big of a mess of it.

Paul Johnson's critique aside, some would call this art.

Summer Bummer

You know how the blades of grass seem to pierce straight through the feet of the characters in C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce?

Well, if your tired of just imagining what that would feel like and think you might enjoy experiencing that type of agony in real life, all you have to do is visit my backyard and walk barefoot across our drought-tortured lawn.

Just throwing that out there.

Like a Thief in the Night

After adoration one evening last week, my children and I followed my husband into the church side Marian grotto to drink in the loveliness of the summer.

Unbeknownst to us, it was 5:59 p.m.

And said grotto is directly beneath the belfry of St. Michael’s Church.

Thomas was bending down to pick a flower from one of the garden beds (tsk! tsk!), when suddenly the Angelus bells tore through the summer’s eve silence.

My little man, in a half-stoop posture, uncontrollably JOLTED at the sudden awareness of the dread majesty of the toll of the centuries-old bells, which caught him completely unaware.

Ah, a foreshadowing of the Parousia!

Our Backyard Beach Baby

More than Luck

I caught a blip of the evening news last night, and, contrary to my normal television-watching behavior, i paid attention.

They were reporting on what they called the "Lucky Baby."

This lucky baby girl
was born on 07-07-07,
was born at exactly 7:07am,
and weighed exactly 7 lbs., 7 oz.

If you're keeping track, that's a total of 7 sevens.

Amazing? Absolutely.
Lucky? Why not something more transcendent?

I dont know if her parents are people of faith, but instead of refering to the biblical significance of the number seven, they just kept repeating embarrassingly obvious observations like, "I'm really glad she had all sevens, because seven is a lucky number, which stands for luck."

Perhaps if they had time to reflect a bit more in the midst of the whirlwind that childbirth is, they'd say this:

What a unique blessing for her birth to be surrounded by a number of eternal significance! Whatever the Lord has in store for her, may the recollection of her birth provide assurance to this "Lucky Baby" that the Almighty has a plan for her happiness in this world and the next!

I Wasnt After THAT Quick of an Answer

After a wonderful week of hosting a family gathering, the return to the day-to-day hit me hard this morning.

I was exhausted when i rose from bed, and the humidity that arrived yesterday only intensified as the day carried on.

Needless to say, in the midst of grating zucchini, snapping green beans, blanching broccoli, comforting miserably hot infants, changing diapers, making lunch, dragging children to town, hitting the store, and continuing the trend of nap irregularity, i often found myself muttering Antiphon 1 of today's Psalmody: "When will i come to the end of my pilrimage and enter the presence of God?"

When the husband returned from his day of outdoor labor, I sought refuge from the heat and a day of hard work in the coolness of our basement.

Rosemarie was napping.
Thomas was "playing" a board game.
Joe was reading.

So i seized my first opportunity to wallow in self-pity.

I flopped onto the couch and pitifully whined aloud, "When will i come to the end of my pilgrimage and enter the presence of God?!??"

Little did i know that Thomas had abandoned his board game and had moved onto reenacting the deaths of his favorite martyrs, when, upon finishing my pathetic declaration, I was immediately pounced upon by our toddler who said,"Oh! Mommy! You got shot with the arrows like St. Sebastian! Aw... (cue toddler mock sadness) you died, Mommy!"

Finally! An excuse to lay still for a while.

18

18 beautiful children surrounding their grandparents.

3rd generation of Catholic heritage.

Michael

Marianna

Kateri

James

Matthew

Elizabeth

John

Theresa

Maria

Agnes

Augustine

Jacob

Clare

Maximillian

Jude

Magdalene

Thomas

Rosemarie

....Lots of souls destined for eternal beatitude.

Perfection

The motu propio of Benedict XVI regarding the restoration of the Tridentine Rite is to be released on

(drum roll, please)

07/07/07

Gotta love symbolic numbers.

You might be a Catholic toddler if....

... your mother thinks you have ringworm on your chest, but finds out later that it's just rust marks being left by your St. Thomas More medal.

Prophecy Fulfilled

Way back in A.D. 2003, in one of my Human Life Studies minor courses at Franciscan University, we were discussing the possible long range complications of the human cloning/test-tube baby debacle.

Call us naive, but we thought it almost comedic to think that the crisis beginning with Roe v. Wade would go so outrageously far as to justify the splicing of a human and an animal. Little did i know that 4 years later, this unthinkable crime would be a reality. Read on:

Human-animal hybrid embryos conceived in the laboratory - so-called “chimeras” - should be regarded as human and their mothers should be allowed to give birth to them, the Roman Catholic Church said yesterday. Under draft Government legislation to be debated by Parliament later this year, scientists will be given permission for the first time to create such embryos for research as long as they destroy them within two weeks. But the Catholic bishops of England and Wales, in a submission to the Parliamentary joint committee scrutinising the draft legislation, said that the genetic mothers of “chimeras” should be able to raise them as their own children if they wished. Read more....

Empty

I'd forgotten how rapidly holy water evaporates in the summer....

Thomas with his Pal Heater

Our son has found a new passion:



Dayton Dragons baseball.



It's our local minor league team, and the games are super fun and very family oriented, which I love.



And we've gotten free tickets twice this season, which I also love.



And those tickets have us sitting right behind the Dragons' dugout, which I love still more.



And, for those of you who doubt a woman would actually pay attention to an entire baseball game, let me assure you that I defy all stereo-types. I mean, our seats are the target of many a deadly-speed foul ball, but that's not the only reason i pay attention to every single bat!

Rosemarie and the Rosary

Numbered among the most transcendent and beautiful moments in my life as a mother is this:

Nursing my sweet baby girl in one arm while fingering the beads of the Holy Rosary in the other.
Thank you, Lord, for this blessed life!

Of Mirrors

I want a full length mirror.

Am I vain for wanting to see what everyone else who sees me gets to see?
From top to bottom?
All at once?
If for no other reason than to spare myself the embarrassment of shopping at GoodWill only to notice that my favorite sweats are thread bare in the "back"? (Threadbare, people!! At GoodWill!! I didnt notice until i was in the dressing room, where, ironically, they have a full length mirror.)

Consider a brief moment of my life yesterday, when, upon returning some media to our local library, i caught sight of my reflection (my whole reflection) in their full-length glass doors.
I wanted to stop.
I wanted to turn sideways and see my profile.

Instinctively, I scanned my five feet and three inches to make sure my husband wasn't fibbing when he assured me that my shoes matched my blouse.

But then it happened. The blasted motion sensor noticed my presence and, wouldnt you know it, my hasnt-been-seen-since-we-moved-to-our-new-full-length-mirrorless-house-six-months-ago top-to-bottom image was ripped from my vision.

I jerked in shattered agony when it was gone.

It was then that I realized I'm either desperate, vain, or just plain pathetic. Is it so wrong of me to want a mirror? Is there a priest out there brave enough to direct me on this postpartum-hormone-induced issue?

(Upon further reflection, i find myself forced into reluctant gratitude. Our Blessed Mother had only Saint Joseph to rely upon for wardrobe summary. Not to knock the Paton of the Universal Church (I love you, J!), but Our Lord just didn't endow men with the same impeccable sense of wardrobe integrity as He did women. At least i have the occassional encounter with the glass door. Did they have glass in 1 B.C.?)

"It fuzzied on my face!"

From the latin, "fuzzire," literally meaing to fuzzy.

A verb used to describe what a downy baby robin does when it brushes up against a toddler's cheek as he attempts to catch it while it's flying at him, petrified, of course.

Decadent Recommendations

A few nice things i've had the pleasure of enjoying in the past few days:

1.) Hershey's Chocolate Caramel coffee creamer by International Delights
Guarunteed to make even Aldi brew taste cuisine.

2.) Graeter's Buckeye Blitz icecream
Over-priced double dip in a cup. Indulgence justified only if you are on an eight hour mom's day out in Dayton and are the sole party responsible for your nursing infant and napless toddler.

3.) The Spot's Strawberry Pie
Nothing like a hometown pastry, especially if someone else purchased this ruby red delight for you to consume. (Thanks, Mama!)

4.) Waterbabies SPF 45 Sunblock
An unforseen result here, folks. I applied it to Thomas, and before it was completely aborbed into his skin, i rescued his burning baby feet from the scalding hot deck, and in the process transfered some of said sunscreen onto random parts of my otherwise screenless body. Splotchy arms and a toddler handprint on my thigh. I'll be sure to apply it to myself next time i'm not after an even tan.

5.) A husband that voluntarily emptied the dishwasher AND reloaded.
Yea, he's pretty much the greatest.

Summer Sunday

Feast of Corpus Christi and solemn procession.
Holy priest donning gold and scarlet vestments.
Rose petals strewn about the streets.

"Holy God, we praise Thy Name."
St. Remigius' bells of 1835 ring.
Standards of old this solemnity meets.

Back at home then, church domestic.
Toddler napping in the hammock.
Infant nursing, softly dreaming.

Husband fishing, deeply breathing
sweet refreshment of God's creation.
Noon sun warming, west wind cooling.


Ah, yes. Those are the makings for a summer Sunday.

Guilt Slip

I undid a bunch of hard work today, and almost cried. Let me share:

About four months ago, there was a great feature in Faith &Family Magazine about how to construct your own toad habitat. Toads are great to have hanging around gardens, because they eat slugs and other pesky critters that destroy your crop. All you need to do is partially bury a terracotta pot that's turned on it's side, fill it with dirt and grass or leaves, and make sure there is water nearby.

It sounded like a great project that Thomas would really love, so i tore out the article and pasted it in the May section of my planner so that i'd have instructions in hand when the right season came to undertake such projects.

May came, and with it, the construction of our very own toad habitat. We dug the pot out of our shed. Shovels in hand, Thomas, Rosemarie (in sling), and I trotted out to our garden and situated our toad habitat. Thomas enjoyed the digging and filling and leaf-picking, excited blue eyeballs popping out of his head when he told daddy the story of how we'd watch day to day to see if any leaves were moved, evidencing the success of our endeavor.

And they came. Cute little warty toads that would tease Thomas by hopping just out of reach when he'd toddle toward them, attempting to pick them up out of our garden beds with his chubby hands.

But there has been a casualty.

Fulfilling my life-long fantasy of being a country wife who hangs her laundry out on the lines on cool summer mornings, infant and toddler happily napping in the house, nut-brown locks of hair blowing in the wind all the while, i thought nothing could be more perfect than a morning like we had today.

That is, until i felt my right foot slip on something green and warty when i was headed back into the house.

With all this wildlife out here at Providence Cottage, there are bound to be some unintentional casualties... right?

It Could Happen to You

Just incase you never thought it was possible to get a Barrel of Monkeys tangled up in your scapular.... well, it is, just to let you know.

If you are 2 1/2.

That's what pagans do

On the recommendation of others, we took our chances watching Mel Gibson's Apocolypto last night. And surprisingly, i wasnt as repulsed by the blood and guts as most people (meaning movie critics) thought i ought to be. But i wont now go into my defense of how i am totally sensitized to such things.

Pagan sacrifices and ravaged village scenes aside, i wanted to give props to Mel for depicting 3 family practices that i like a lot:

Co-sleeping.
Natural child birth.
Baby wearing.

It just seems natural and good to do those things.
That's why the pagans did it, and that's why we do it.

A.P.B.

Two quasi-urgent requests have come my way, neither of which i am able to personally fulfill.
So, I share them with any and all who might have greater connections than I. Here they are:

First, an excellent priest in the Cincinnati area is looking for an organist.

Let's face it, there's hardly anything sweeter than attending a Mass where the organist rocks out with some sweet traditional pieces. (Random memoir: When I was a young girl, the elderly organist of St Mary's Parish, the late Mr. Wills, would bust out some amazingly complex tunes after the recessional as we were all genuflecting on our way out of the pews. Hearing brilliant pieces of music that were composed and are played for the sole purpose of glorifying the Almighty lends itself to piety and adoration, doesnt it?)

Second, a recent theology/philosophy graduate of Franciscan University is looking for a job.

Being a grad with an identical degree, i know first hand that the pickins are slim for applicants in that field. I venture to say that any job obtained within one year of graduation is granted soley by the hand of Providence. But maybe i am bold in saying that? Let's all pray that the good God sees fit to place this young graduate in a place where she can do His work, and soon!

As I Lay Dying

I just snagged Fr Richard John Neuhaus's book As I Lay Dying off of our local library's book shelf.

And a Providential and timely snag it proves to be.

Too often, i find myself forgetting how late in time it is, and that, as Fr Neuhaus said, the mortality rate is holding steady at 100%. Which leads me to study my life and live it well so that a good death might naturally follow.

Yeah, death and good in the same sentence. For more on that, you'll have to read the book yourself.

In the world, but not of the world....

Yes, i, too, have been sucked into the world of blogging. Why? How could a person who rarely has a free moment or a free hand even be tempted to start a blog?

I can't come up with a profound answer.

But life is profound. And what's more, i am finding that trying to live my vocation as a Catholic wife and mother has uncountable profundities. Uncountable mundanities, too.

And they count. So they're worth mentioning.... even in cyberspace.