New Year Musings, Resolutions, and More...

Wow, we are already 26 days into a New Year!  I love the beginning of a new year because it feels like a fresh start, kind of like going to the Sacrament of Confession, where you walk out of the confessional with renewed hope, a clean slate, and a desire to start over and make things better.

This year I made the resolution to try to pray both the rosary and the chaplet of Divine Mercy sometime throughout the day, and also to exercise for at least 20 minutes per day.  I try to do the rosary first thing in the morning, usually with my children when I drive them into school, and the chaplet I reserve for the 3:00 hour (the hour Jesus Himself said was the hour of mercy when He opens His heart to pour special graces on those who ask for them in memory of the hour in which he died for us).  Again, I pray this with my children if I'm the one who picks them up from school, or I do it by myself at home if Joseph brings the kids home.  It truly warms my mother's heart that even when Joseph is the one who takes the kids to and from school, they are in the habit of  praying the rosary and the chaplet to begin and end their school day.  If that's the only good habit I've taught my kids, then that is enough for me! :)

The year 2019 has certainly started less tumultuous than 2018 began.  2018 was our year that turned upside down when our son Dominic went to the hospital for a bone infection and came out of the hospital with a serious case of PTSD and recurring panic attacks.  He is still in counseling to manage his anxiety and panic attacks.  He has healed tremendously---but not completely.  The panic attacks now are rare, but still very real.  Perhaps this will be his lifelong cross, but I am hopeful that 2019 will bring much hope and healing for him.  I humbly ask for your continued prayers for him and our family.

2019 will be a big year for Joseph as he starts to look into colleges, take ACT and SAT tests, apply for scholarships, and discern his future.  I ask for your prayers upon him as well.

I am confident that the saints we picked (or did they pick us?) this year will help us grow in holiness too, so that is a consolation and a blessing.  I love being Catholic and having this opportunity to have holy intercessors to help us in our daily lives.  Here are our saints for 2019:

• Paul:  St. Christopher Magallanes (one of the martyred priests during the Cristeros War in the 1920s)
• Maria:  St. John the Baptist
• Joseph:  St. Bartholomew (one of the disciples, also knows as Nathanael in the gospels)
• Michael:  St. Benjamin (deacon and martyr in Persia in the 400s)
• Dominic:  St. Cunegundes (holy empress of Rome who gave most of her wealth to the poor and became a nun after King Henry's death)
• Nathanael:  St. Bernardine of Siena (joyful and enthusiastic Franciscan preacher of the 1400s)
• Isaiah:  St. Saturninus (bishop of France and early martyr of the Church)

I also pick a word of the year for myself, using a randomized word search on the internet, and this year my word is:
CARE.  I do feel that God is calling me to reach out more to other people, to be the hands and feet of Christ and show His loving "care" to all those He places in my life.  I hope, with His grace, to do better at that this year.  Perhaps God also gave me this word to remind me of how much He cares for me, even when I fail over and over again.  I have always struggled with believing that God loves me unconditionally and isn't disappointed in me for my sins and imperfections.  So this year I will try to adopt St. Therese's spirituality of having childlike trust in God's fatherly love and His infinite mercy for me and for the whole world.

Lastly, some of you might be encouraged by the January message from Medjugorje, which I thought was a beautiful call to holiness and conversion for the whole world for the new year.  May it touch your heart and may you and I spread this message through our words and actions this year:


January 25, 2019 message to Marija, one of the visionaries in Medjugorje:

"Dear children! Today, as a mother, I am calling you to conversion. This time is for you, little children, a time of silence and prayer. Therefore, in the warmth of your heart, may a grain of hope and faith grow and you, little children, will from day to day feel the need to pray more. Your life will become orderly and responsible. You will comprehend, little children, that you are passing here on earth and you will feel the need to be closer to God, and with love you will witness the experience of your encounter with God, which you will share with others. I am with you and am praying for you but I cannot without your 'yes'. Thank you for having responded to my call."​​

What my heart needed to hear...

Sally Clarkson posted this recently on her blog, and her words were just what my heart needed to hear:




The LORD is near to the brokenhearted And saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18

This week, I have heard from lots of sweet, broken-hearted moms. So many of you carry loads that are so soul-bending. Yet, I want you to know you are not invisible. Many times, as I look back on my life, I wonder how I made it. At times, huddling in the dark of our bedroom, with no lights on so that no one could see me, I would cry broken-hearted tears, and pour out my grief to the Lord.
 

At times, I felt helpless and hopeless, but because I loved my children, I would, by faith, put one more foot in front of the other and live the day as well as I could. So much of my despair came from having no support systems, and no one to give me a break.
 

Psalm 139 tells us that even darkness is not dark to God. As I look back now, His hand was at work behind the scenes. The dark place built depth and beauty in the souls of my children and in me. And at each juncture, God taught me something about the world, people, life and that He would guide me through the obstacle course of life, even when I was not aware of His carrying me.

So many times I really didn’t think I was going to make it.
 

But then I would read my Bible one more time. I would give my life and the decisions to God and beg for help and hoped that it mattered.
 

God did scatter some hope along my pathways that some times I did not see until looking back. But, He also knew He had a bigger arena for me, one in which I would minister to people from many backgrounds, struggles and stories, and so He used every struggle to help me become more humble. Every juncture or challenge in the road gave me compassion for others who struggled. Each obstacle conquered strengthened my wisdom and understanding so that I could be more ready and mature for the bigger, more challenging tests.
 

But now, through the process, God very slowly and gently used so many moments of heartbreak to loosen my grip on the things I thought I needed to satisfy myself–one at a time. And in the end, when my hands were empty of my personal expectations, He started giving me a hunger for heaven, for eternal things, for deeper relationships. Through the heartbreak, God gave me an appetite for my real home where I will live with Him for eternity, where my loved ones and I will experience peace in all of our relationships and all stress and sadness will be gone.
 

Heartbreak in this world is a proper assessment of being in a world that is dead to God and His ways. But, He, the servant of us all, is collecting every tear in a bottle to remember it, standing close to us in His mercy, and ever ready to welcome us into His comfort as we understand the fellowship of His deep understanding of how we suffer.
 

He indeed turned my mourning to joy and has blessed me more than I could have imagined because He who began a good work, was faithful to complete it in the lives of my sweet children. And now in the midst of difficult days, they are my comfort and joy. I raised my own support systems.
 

Remember, precious one, your labor is not in vain. Your deep hurts are noticed by him, the one who cried when Lazarus died, and His sympathy will be always there because he is a Father who has compassion on His children. May you know that today, you are not alone. He sees you and He cares for you, deeply and always.

Motherhood is a Calling

A friend of mine shared this encouraging article with me, and its message is one I need to be reminded of daily.  May these words bless your day and help you embrace your motherly vocation with more joy and purpose today!  ~Maria

Motherhood is a Calling
by Rachel Jankovic
http://www.desiringgod.org/blog/posts/motherhood-is-a-calling-and-where-your-children-rank


A few years ago, when I just had four children and when the oldest was still three, I loaded them all up to go on a walk. After the final sippy cup had found a place and we were ready to go, my two-year-old turned to me and said, “Wow! You have your hands full!” She could have just as well said, “Don’t you know what causes that?” or “Are they all yours?!”  Everywhere you go, people want to talk about your children. Why you shouldn’t have had them, how you could have prevented them, and why they would never do what you have done. They want to make sure you know that you won’t be smiling anymore when they are teenagers. All this at the grocery store, in line, while your children listen.

A Rock-Bottom Job?

The truth is that years ago, before this generation of mothers was even born, our society decided where children rank in the list of important things. When abortion was legalized, we wrote it into law.
Children rank way below college. Below world travel for sure. Below the ability to go out at night at your leisure. Below honing your body at the gym. Below any job you may have or hope to get. In fact, children rate below your desire to sit around and pick your toes, if that is what you want to do. Below everything. Children are the last thing you should ever spend your time doing.

If you grew up in this culture, it is very hard to get a biblical perspective on motherhood, to think like a free Christian woman about your life, your children. How much have we listened to partial truths and half lies? Do we believe that we want children because there is some biological urge, or the phantom “baby itch”? Are we really in this because of cute little clothes and photo opportunities? Is motherhood a rock-bottom job for those who can’t do more, or those who are satisfied with drudgery? If so, what were we thinking?

It's Not a Hobby

Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling. You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps. It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in. It is what God gave you time for.

Christian mothers carry their children in hostile territory. When you are in public with them, you are standing with, and defending, the objects of cultural dislike. You are publicly testifying that you value what God values, and that you refuse to value what the world values. You stand with the defenseless and in front of the needy. You represent everything that our culture hates, because you represent laying down your life for another—and laying down your life for another represents the gospel.

Our culture is simply afraid of death. Laying down your own life, in any way, is terrifying. Strangely, it is that fear that drives the abortion industry: fear that your dreams will die, that your future will die, that your freedom will die—and trying to escape that death by running into the arms of death.

Run to the Cross

But a Christian should have a different paradigm. We should run to to the cross. To death. So lay down your hopes. Lay down your future. Lay down your petty annoyances. Lay down your desire to be recognized. Lay down your fussiness at your children. Lay down your perfectly clean house. Lay down your grievances about the life you are living. Lay down the imaginary life you could have had by yourself. Let it go.

Death to yourself is not the end of the story. We, of all people, ought to know what follows death. The Christian life is resurrection life, life that cannot be contained by death, the kind of life that is only possible when you have been to the cross and back.

The Bible is clear about the value of children. Jesus loved them, and we are commanded to love them, to bring them up in the nurture of the Lord. We are to imitate God and take pleasure in our children.

The Question Is How

The question here is not whether you are representing the gospel, it is how you are representing it. Have you given your life to your children resentfully? Do you tally every thing you do for them like a loan shark tallies debts? Or do you give them life the way God gave it to us—freely?

It isn’t enough to pretend. You might fool a few people. That person in line at the store might believe you when you plaster on a fake smile, but your children won’t. They know exactly where they stand with you. They know the things that you rate above them. They know everything you resent and hold against them. They know that you faked a cheerful answer to that lady, only to whisper threats or bark at them in the car.

Children know the difference between a mother who is saving face to a stranger and a mother who defends their life and their worth with her smile, her love, and her absolute loyalty.

Hands Full of Good Things

When my little girl told me, “Your hands are full!” I was so thankful that she already knew what my answer would be. It was the same one that I always gave: “Yes they are—full of good things!”
Live the gospel in the things that no one sees. Sacrifice for your children in places that only they will know about. Put their value ahead of yours. Grow them up in the clean air of gospel living. Your testimony to the gospel in the little details of your life is more valuable to them than you can imagine. If you tell them the gospel, but live to yourself, they will never believe it. Give your life for theirs every day, joyfully. Lay down pettiness. Lay down fussiness. Lay down resentment about the dishes, about the laundry, about how no one knows how hard you work.

Stop clinging to yourself and cling to the cross. There is more joy and more life and more laughter on the other side of death than you can possibly carry alone.

STOP THE PRESS...

...my baby slept through the night...ALLELUIA!!

Oh, I have been waiting for this day for so long I just can't believe it's here! I think I might have to go treat myself to a margarita tonight...anyone want to come celebrate with me?


I must give credit for my husband for this victory. Many times these past few months, as I was getting more and more sleep deprived and bitter, he would gently say that he would help me "train" Nathanael to comfort himself to sleep (that's his nice way of saying "cry it out") :)

And I would always brush his comments aside. I just wasn't ready. My heart still couldn't bear the crying that I knew would come (even though I knew it would be short-lived because we went through it with the other boys who were successfully "trained" and still loved me afterwards).

But last week I was at the end of my rope. Nine months of getting up every hour or two had taken it's toll. It was time. I decided to wean at the same time because the ultimate cause of Nathanael's night-time wakings was that he always wanted to be comfort-nursed back to sleep. Somehow I had gotten into the habit of nursing him to sleep for all his naps and also during the night, and as a result I had accidentally trained him not go to sleep any other way. I now look back and admit that was probably not the best approach, but when you have 3 other kids who need your attention you tend to choose the way that seems easiest out of sheer desperation. So that's what I did, and it bit me in the butt...

Anyway, once we decided to "re-train" Nathanael, I figured that if I slowly cut back on nursing, and quit the habit of feeding him to sleep, he would learn not to be dependant of me to get to sleep...he would learn to comfort himself to sleep. And this week seemed to prove that hypothesis correct.

We started the new routine last Sunday night... 1) Change his diaper and put on jammies 2) Read a few books in his room 3) Hold him while playing his "Twinkle Twinkle Teddy Bear" 4) Lay him in the crib and say "I love you, Good Night" 5) Let him cry for 10 minutes 6) Repeat steps 3-5.

The first 3 nights we had to go in about 3 times before he would fall asleep (probably out of sheer exhaustion). But on night 4 we only had to go in once, and night 5 he didn't need us to come back in to comfort him at all. Each night got progressively better with how many times he awoke during the night as well, and by night 6 he slept through the night completely. The weaning process also went smoothly. I cut out all nighttime feedings on the first day that we began our new routine. The next day I cut out 1 daytime feeding. The following day, I cut out 2 daytime feedings, the third day I cut out 3, and by the fourth day he was completely weaned and thankfully didn't seem to mind a bit. In fact, I think he loves his bottle just as well as nursing. It is so sweet to watch him hold the bottle with both hands all by himself. And even though I hadn't planned on weaning him this early, I feel as if a heavy weight has been lifted from my shoulders, which further confirms that I think the time was right. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely loved nursing and bonding with my baby in that special way, but when the bond became a burden rather than I joy, it was healthy for me to wean and bond in other special ways instead. Now I get to watch my husband or my older boys give Nathanael a bottle, which is very sweet indeed. And now I'm free to leisurely get groceries or go on a date with my husband without worrying about getting back for nursing at a certain time. Heck, I'm even free to go on a trip for a few days...anyone want to meet somewhere for a girl's getaway weekend to renew our spirits and help us to embrace our vocations as wives and mother's with new enthusiasm? :)



P.S. Paul and I decided to get a babysitter and go out to celebrate tonight... I had a tasty Montana Sapphire Margarita and Paul had a Lemon Drop Martini. What a great reason to celebrate! And don't I look incredibly happy and well-rested in this photo? :) I'm toasting to my sweet husband for being the strength that I needed to win this victory of sleep. It's times like these when I realize why God put the two of us together :) Thanks, honey! Here's to you and here's to sleep, blissful sleep!

5 Month Update

Nathanael turned 5 months old last week. I know it's cliche to say it, but his time with us sure has flown by. It seems like just yesterday we brought him home from the hospital. He continues to be a delight...so smiley, so easy (during the day, that is). This month he had his first cold---thankfully a mild one. He has rolled over both ways a few times. He has mastered the art of eating mush, but still has not mastered the art of sleeping. He actually seems to be regressing in that department, much to my dismay. He had been sleeping a 4 or 5 hour stretch at night, and now he's back to waking every hour or two. I thought it was just a growth spurt, but it's been going on now for a few weeks. He nurses for just a minute or two and falls right back to sleep, so obviously he's not waking from hunger but rather out of habit or for reassurance. I'd be all ears for tips! I know the goal is to teach him to comfort himself when he wakes up instead of needing to nurse for comfort, but I'm not sure my heart can handle the "tough love" (a.k.a. crying) it might take to teach him this important lesson. Please pray for my parenting wisdom, patience, and perseverance to function joyfully during the day on very little sleep...I'm especially in need of joy...I seem to have run out :} Thank you!

Dominic's Day!

Oh my goodness, the bittersweetness of this day simply takes my breath away... My baby started preschool! Good thing another baby is on the way to fill my all too quiet home! Dominic sure made this day easy on my heart, though. It was as if he was born for this day. He's been waiting to start school since last fall when Joseph and Michael started school and he realized that school is what big boys do. Last fall he was bitter that I did not consider him a big enough boy, but this year I knew it was time. He was ready---even if mommy was not. His giddiness all day made it easy for me to let him spread his wings a bit, and it also confirmed that this was a good decision for both of us this year. Good for Dominic because he gets to feel special and big and learn and play with friends. Good for me because I get to prepare for a new baby and bond with our new baby and hopefully nap with the baby while my three big boys are at school having fun :) "Thank you, Lord, for this beautiful day that you have made and my happy preschooler who made this mommy's heart nearly burst with bittersweet pride today."

First-day-of-school jitters? NOPE. Separation anxiety? NOT AN OUNCE.


Dominic was delighted to find his name and the hook for his backpack!

Here is Dominic listening intently to his teacher read "The Kissing Hand."

Dominic loved showing off his big boy skills on the playground! He was totally miffed why a few of the other kids were clinging to their parent's leg and didn't want to play :}

Dominic was very proud of his first school project--a place mat to use for snack-time. I hope he will love looking at our family picture to remind him how much he is loved.

I love you my sweet, handsome, growing up too fast, PRESCHOOLER!

History and Mystery of Candlemas

It seems like every year I grow in the understanding of my faith, in large part because of the beautiful feast days that the Church celebrates. I think the Church created feast days and holidays for that very reason---to help us remember the history and embrace the mystery of our faith so that we can better live it and share it! The following excerpt gives some of the history of today's feast day: The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, also called Candlemas. It gave me a lot of insight and inspiration:

At the end of the fourth century, a woman named Etheria made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Her journal, discovered in 1887, gives an unprecedented glimpse of liturgical life there. Among the celebrations she describes is the Epiphany (January 6), the observance of Christ’s birth, and the gala procession in honor of his Presentation in the Temple 40 days later—February 15. Under the Mosaic Law, a woman was ritually “unclean” for 40 days after childbirth, when she was to present herself to the priests and offer sacrifice—her “purification.” Contact with anyone who had brushed against mystery—birth or death—excluded a person from Jewish worship. However, This feast emphasizes Jesus’ first appearance in the Temple more than Mary’s purification. The observance spread throughout the Western Church in the fifth and sixth centuries. Because the Church in the West celebrated Jesus’ birth on December 25, the Presentation was moved to February 2, 40 days after Christmas.

At the beginning of the eighth century, Pope Sergius inaugurated a candlelight procession; at the end of the same century the blessing and distribution of candles which continues to this day became part of the celebration, giving the feast its popular name: Candlemas.

“Christ himself says, ‘I am the light of the world.’ And we are the light, we ourselves, if we receive it from him.... But how do we receive it, how do we make it shine? ...[T]he candle tells us: by burning, and being consumed in the burning. A spark of fire, a ray of love, an inevitable immolation are celebrated over that pure, straight candle, as, pouring forth its gift of light, it exhausts itself in silent sacrifice” (Pope Paul VI).

This imagery of our lives being like a candle, burning with Christ's love in an act of "silent sacrifice" as we share that love and are ultimately consumed by it really touched me. It seemed to give meaning to the loving sacrifices I make as a wife, as a mother, as a believer trying to live the Gospel daily. Today, as I ponder Mary presenting baby Jesus in the temple and having her heart pierced by Simeon's prophecy, I am reminded of the silent sacrifices we mothers make. We daily must give our own children to the Lord, praying that no harm comes to them, hoping for their salvation, and often having our hearts pierced when our children suffer or when we lose a child in the womb or before we think it is their time. I pray that Mary helps me to burn with the love of her Son as I strive to live my vocation, and that I continue to burn brightly even when my heart is pierced again and again.

Who Needs Toys?

The other day I let Dominic play at the sink while I was getting supper ready. I forgot how much kids love playing in water! He kept himself entertained for nearly an hour...which kept his mommy happy too! I got so much done, and I'm sure he learned more playing with water than he would've watching a video or playing with other over-rated, fancy toys! It was a reminder that kids truly don't need "toys," they just need household items to foster their creativity!

A Night of Sacrifice

Last night was one of those nights of parental sacrifice. Child #1 woke up in the middle of the night coughing every 3 seconds and needed medicine and extra TLC. Paul was gone on a work trip, so I (stupidly) let Coughing Child snuggle in bed with me. Once he finally stopped coughing on me (an hour or two later), he started snoring so loud that I got evicted out of my own bed. My brain must not fire on all four cylinders in the middle of the night, because I (stupidly) decided to camp out on the floor in the hallway between all three rooms, thinking that was the perfect place to be able to hear any of the children if they woke up. In case you were curious, the floor is no longer comfortable after you turn 30. Did I forget to mention that Child #2 and Child #3 also woke up sometime after my eviction too? One needed to pee, the other had a bad dream. I told Bad Dream Child, "Sorry, my bed's already taken. Go tuck yourself in your own bed again." Apparently, sleeping on the floor sucks all the compassion right out of ya. I might seriously need a nap today, in my own soft, comfortable, bed.