Sanctified Times Two, version 2.0

The girls both made their First Reconciliation today with the same lovely priest as their brother. They asked if they could go again next Saturday. I told them any time their little hearts desire to go, I will take them. Any time.

We celebrated with a brunch at The Waffle House. Big brother, who is now an altar server, is off with his Pinewood Derby. Tonight, the girls have the annual Father/Daughter Dance and I get the traditional Mother/Son date.

Time flows steady and strong and these babies of mine are being carried away from their childhood. I try so hard to preserve it, even if momentarily, against the ever-moving current.

If Ever There Were a Day to Write a Post Here...

...Mother's Day would be it.

The perpetual tweet-and-flutter of Twitter keeps drawing me away from my own little blog. I love its brevity and terseness and emphemerality. Quickness and cleverness are assets there in a way they are not on a blog.

but

I feel compelled.

Last week, Zeke made his First Holy Communion. He was surrounded by family and was amid almost 100 other children dressed in suits and white dresses with veils. I even broke out the shapewear [Oh, MY! what did we ever do before Spanx?] and wore the same outfit I wore when he was baptized. It was sublime and joyful. Happy tears filled my eyes. I know his life will never be the same and that is a good thing.

Yesterday, he turned 8 [and made his 2nd Holy Communion!] and I wonder where that almost-decade has gone. In this little time, eight voyages around the sun, much has changed. My man has become a Catholic and I can hardly remember the longing I had when I journeyed toward the altar alone for Communion. Motherhood has filled the nooks-and-crannies of a life and I can hardly remember the longing I had during those years of presumed infertility.

Longings almost forgotten. Ah! That's what this blog is for.

Sanctified

Today was a big day for Zeke. He made his First Reconciliation. He's now completed two of his possible seven Sacraments. My heart is full of peaceful joy that he has come this far. There were over 100 children making confessions today and six priests administering. The leaders wanted all the children to go first and then the adults could go. This was a good consolation for us who arrived at the last moment and were seated in the back. Zeke was near the end with Father Brian, our parish's former vicar, and I was the first adult in the same line. Father told me when I went in that my child is just delightful. So good to hear. When I came out, Zeke asked me what my penance was and his eyes got pretty big. Big people, big sins, big penances.

As a kid growing up, we would compare penances. It was sort of the thing to do as a kind of barometer of how you rated. Of course, if you had a different priest, it threw off the scale. David didn't grow up with this Sacrament and so he's very tight-lipped about what happens. He sees the confessional like high rollers see Vegas. It pleases me no end that my boy is growing in the faith and in knowledge and, hopefully, wisdom. I expect we will start doing the Saturday Confession as a family on a regular basis. I cannot count how many priests I know who said this was part of their growing up: regular Saturday Confessions with the family.

40 Days for Life

Abortion is a pernicious evil. The pro-life movement has spent many [too many?] years working and hoping for a judicial/governmental solution. None has come. A somewhat recent, grassroots plan has taken hold. It is called 40 Days for Life. For 40 days, which began on Wednesday, September 23, 2009, there will be perpetual vigils outside abortion clinics in 213 locations across the U.S. The plan is for the faithful to pray, fast, and stand vigil. This happens twice a year.

This is the third time that I know of 40 Days taking place in our community. Last night, I was privileged to stand vigil with two men from my parish. Sadly, this is the same clinic I used to pray outside of almost a decade ago, when I was struggling with infertility. I believe those regular [Saturday morning] prayer vigils were sanctifying for me. The last time I prayed outside the clinic, Zeke was about 3 months old and nestled in my Baby Bjorn. I was overcome by joyful events and neglected this very important activism/ministry. I'm so pleased for another chance to be a witness for life in my own community.

How I Spent My Summer

Summer's not quite over. A week at the beach awaits us soon. Still...

In North Carolina, the homeschool year runs from July1 to the next June 30. I came to the realization that we're probably a year round school because I still work full time and thus, our actual school day is shortened. This shortfall can best be made up with more days of shorter duration. Zeke and I worked very hard to get 'caught up' in History/Geography, Writing and Grammar. It took a long time, but I believe we finally have a curriculum that works on most all the subjects for Zeke. I was strongly influenced by the neo-classical approach described in "The Well-Trained Mind," and adopted several of the authors' suggestions. I was also influenced by many of my fellow homeschool moms from the co-op who are taking a similar approach with their students. Finally, I'm reading "A Mother's Rule of Life" which incorporates Catholic monastic ideals and superimposes them on a Catholic homeschool mother's day. And here, I thought homeschooling was just teaching your own kids at home. Who knew it required a total commitment on my part and religious zeal!

Today, after Mass, our family fun outing will be a picnic with the co-op families at church. Our little co-op of 5 families is expanding to 9 families and this will be a chance to meet and greet all the spouses and kids. I feel excited, but at peace.

Seven

Test Anxiety

I will take Zeke to have some school testing tomorrow morning. As with many unknowns in his life, this news made him anxious. He worried himself all the way to bed. I told him some test strategies--seeing it as a game, a chance to show off, something fun--and nothing seemed to work. Then I told him to ask Jesus for help. He couldn't quite get the whole process. I told him to take his anxiousness and fear and to give it to Jesus on the cross. This made him a little mad. "How is He gonna' help me when he's nailed to the cross?!" I spent a little while explaining the Good Friday/Easter thing. He got that Jesus was invincible and triumphed over death and would help him over his troubles, too. Peaceful sleep ensued.

Pixel Dust

Behold our first ever picture taken with Santa Claus. We thought of photoshopping the cowlick, but then we'd have photoshopped out all the whimsy.

Merry Christmas from the Adamses!

Tiger Cub

A new chapter begins chez Adams: scouting. Last night Zeke attended his first pack meeting and received his very first badge [Bobcat]. He had to learn the Cub Scout motto, rules of the pack, the handshake and salute. David was enlisted [without resistance] to be the leader of the den. He is an Eagle Scout from his youth and proud Daddy as well. The Tiger Cubs are: Michael, Zeke and Connor.

I Owe You a Few

[Top to Bottom]: My dashing, incredible son, Zeke, as Dash Incredible; Annie as Ariel, Zeke as Dash, Mary Jo as Tinker Bell, Hallowe'en 2008; Mary Jo and Annie leaf nothing to the imagination; Zeke, Joey and Annie astride an alligator at Alligator Adventure, September 2008.

Funny Sonny

Zeke: Mama, why did the chewing gum cross the road?

Me: Hmmm. I don't know. To get to the other side?

Zeke: No! Because it was stuck to a chicken!

[Whereupon he falls into a laughing puddle on the rug.]

Son of Punster

Dave was getting a little conflict from Zeke and I called out from the kitchen, "Zeke! You're incorrigible."

Maddened, he yelled back, "Mom! I'm not in a porridge bowl."

No one ever told me that a good part of being a parent required keeping a straight face.

The Rock 'n Roll Army

"Bad to the Bone" starts blaring over the loudspeaker and the bleachers, full of about a thousand parents, siblings, relatives and Puget Sound Debs, take notice of the billowing smoke cannisters across the parade field. Two of the newest-of-the-new troop transports, the Stryker Armored Fighting Vehicle, stealthily make their way and two squads, fully armed, unload and the demonstration begins. It's been almost two decades since I landed at Fort Benning, the poguiest of the pogues--a female JAG in a peacetime Army. Clearly, it is not Aunt Ruthie's Army anymore.

I was pleased and amazed by all the new things--including the Sippican friendly base housing [not a snout-house in sight!]--but nothing inspired me more than the 250 new young Infantry soldiers. Every one of them volunteered in the midst of a war with an intractable foe knowing they are the tip of the spear and are destined for battle. They looked impossibly young, but square-jawed and clear-eyed and ready for what awaits.

My son, all of six years old, was allowed to sit in the Stryker
and, within moments of being told which hand on the joystick, started zeroing in on targets. He wondered why he couldn't fire. How smart is the Army to make their coolest of cool vehicles fit into the digital-aged soldiers who now use them?

My nephew graduated, and, as I suspected, was different than the fellow we sent off in April.The Army does this to people and has from time immemorial, but it is still a wonder to behold.

Overcoming Blechhhh

I haven't posted in a little while for no real reason except that I really didn't have much to report and I liked the graphic of the flag waving atop my blog. I almost posted something on Friday about birds. Zeke had a small injury on his middle finger and he kept trying to show me his band-aid. I had to carefully explain that his gesture was impolite. The kids know the 'we-don't-say-shut-up-in-this-family' rule [we say 'be quiet' or 'hush up'] and I made an analogy to that. We sat at the table and I went to a good first place: wikipedia, where we learned that the gesture originated in ancient Rome and the middle finger is called the digitus impudicus. The article referred to a Warner Brothers' cartoon, so we hopped onto YouTube and checked out "A Tale of Two Kitties," which is the first ever appearance of Tweetie Bird and it had two cats in the likeness of Abbott and Costello. It was made in 1942 and is chock-full of World War II references. Well, see for yourself. The 'bird' reference is at the 2:05 mark.



I got engrossed in a couple comment threads elsewhere and I realized I probably needed to go on a blog diet. When one has a challenge with overeating, there's no long-term abstinence solution; one must learn moderation. I think my blogging [or more especially, my commenting elsewhere] needed a little moderation or else I'd be overtaken with apathy or antipathy.

Dave and I had a date night on Saturday and the kids did well with a new sitter. Dave's taken to being Catholic like a duck to water. He's already a Third Degree Knight of Columbus and was just selected to serve as a member of the Parish Pastoral Council. He's been so supportive of me and all my churchy things for so many years that I am just trying to reciprocate in any way he wishes. I marvel often at the work of the Holy Spirit in my man's life. He really is a great and good man and he's destined for sainthood.

Which brings me to today and the ongoing case of the blechhs. I made a decision today to get up and walk while Dave was doing his workout at the YMCA. The whole day started earlier and went much better. We even accomplished a couple math lessons and had a really good day. There's an adage 'action cures fear' but it also helps in cases of blechhh.

A New Old Photo

I came across this today and just wanted to put it up. Zeke is about twice as old now as he was then [about 3]. Daddy must've taken it because I wasn't there.

Oh, Happy Day

Today is Zeke's 6th birthday. We celebrated his 6th completed trip around the sun with lunch out at his choice [Applebee's] and we're planning a Dewey's cake shortly [chocolate cake/chocolate icing/blue flowers]. The decorations are Star Wars themed and I'm half-way regretting the 3ft long light sabre in his gift bag. Let's hope he doesn't use it for the dark side of the force.

Pun o' the Day

[Overheard today in my kitchen]

Zeke: Do you know who stole all the tub toys?

Joey: No, Zekie, I don't.

Zeke: The robber duckie.

Me: [Laughing] Zeke! Where did you hear that one?

Zeke: Tigger.

Humor 101

The other day, I had all three kids in the van en route to something. They were watching their onboard DVD of some Warner Brothers cartoon. Now the van DVDs get sporadic, but repetitive viewing. They were watching this:



They called out in unison the line, "Dead?! I didn't even know he was sick!" and it made me laugh out loud in the front seat. They all clamored to know what was so funny. It took me awhile, but I explained it as we continued driving. I didn't see the cartoon until today to get the sight gag that goes with it.

And many thanks to Zeke who has an encyclopedic knowledge of those Warner Brothers cartoons. I gave him the line and he gave me the title. I said, "That was a Tweety cartoon? I could've sworn it was a Bugs one!"

This is the good stuff.

And the Hits Just Keep Coming

Dave and I breathed a sigh of relief when the vomit wave didn't hit the other two kids on Wednesday. On Thursday, it hit Joey and she's past the wave and onto a BRAT diet, and Zeke's still 'in the throes' of it. It's a good rainy day to hunker down, do nothing but try to be well. It looks to be just a 24-hour stomach bug [Zeke hates that term! he thinks he has an insect in his stomach making him puke].

Sorry about all the vomit-blogging. It's all I know lately.

ADDED: Dave told me that during one of the mid-night 'events' Zeke cried out, "Daddy, I hate it when it roasts my nose!"

Mirthful Things

~I had Zeke read a Christmas card today. It mentioned the gifts of the wise men, which he rendered gold, frankincense and mirth.

~I have noticed that no matter how I move the computers around, my cleaning lady just will not touch them. She seemingly refuses to work her magic on them. I guess she just doesn't do Windows.

~Today at work, I printed out a document. On the cover sheet, it had 'date: 3/3/2008, time: 3:33:33 PM.' [I see the number eight is just a 3 looking in the mirror. ] I thought that was a shout out from the Big Guy to me. He catches my attention in the merest ways.

~This weekend, after years of yard blah-ness, a garden was planted in our yard. It is beautiful and extremely low maintenance. The fellow we hired to do the green thumb thing took a lot of pride in his work, evidenced by the dozen or so pals of his who came to see the work. Dave and I are nearly finished with our improvements on the cozy house. Is it time to move now? I told Dave that it's the most beautiful bouquet he's ever bought me.