Thursday, May 27, 2010

On the Road Again

Just got back from here:
With these sweet little travel companions:
And this morning I'm heading here:

With these guys:

(sorry... blurry... having camera problems these days... )

Got home from Breckenridge last Saturday and rested for a day, then headed out again Monday afternoon.  Spent a very nice couple of days in Western Colorado, visiting with the Sisters at our old parish and helping them with a couple of year-end projects. Played in the waterfall in Ouray and checked out a really cool little museum, then got home last night around 9:30.  Now, it's quarter to seven (AM) and I'm getting in a last cup of coffee before I head out with Paul and Nicole to drive their two cars out to Virginia where Paul will begin his Marine training at Quantico.    I'll be back Sunday afternoon.  And then I'm just going to sit for about a week I think.  And do some catching up with my blog friends -- and laundry. Hope all is well with everyone!  If you have a minute, can you send up a prayer for our safe journey?  Thank-you so much!

Monday, May 24, 2010

Makes My Monday

Being All Together
In God's Country








Five nights, six days of family togetherness
in an awesome cabin in the mountains near beautiful Breckenridge, CO --
Celebrating Dan's parents' 50th anniversary
and saying bon voyage to Paul and Nicole
who will be leaving for Virginia this week.

More slide-show of the trip later this week -- fair warning!

Heading out to the Western Slope for a little R&R with the little girls -- and a chance to visit with our friends, the Sisters, and help them with their year-end cleaning.  May get a chance to pop in with updates if I can find some wifi... 

Have a wonderful week, everyone!

More Makes My Monday at Cheryl's!

Monday, May 17, 2010

Makes My Monday

This Guy on This Big Day...



Look at that smile!


A rainbow of honors cords.

Paul J. Davis
Bachelor of Business Administration-Management; Business Administration-Entrepeneurship
Mesa State College
May15, 2010


Go see Cheryl for more Makes My Monday happiness!

Sunday, May 16, 2010

All's Well That Ends Well

In the spirit of a Sunday donkey- in-the-ditch solution, we had the well guy come out today after Mass. And, thank Heavens the electrical thingy-mabob that went out on the well was something he had stocked in his truck.  Bless him.  Fifteen minutes of work in the well and fifteen minutes of talking to Dan about truck engines later -- the well was fixed.  Wahoo! Houston, we have water! 

Like I said:  God is good. 

(Man, oh man.  You don't realize how much you take water for granted until the well goes out on ya.)

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Water, water...

So, spent about two hours in a traffic jam on the way over the mountains to Paul's Saturday AM graduation. Pouring buckets.

William starts messing with his window (the little bugger) and it gets stuck in the down position. But, we're stalled in the middle of a traffic jam in the middle of industrial Denver, not an off-ramp in sight. In the rain.

Finally. Finally. Cars start moving and we get to a gas station. And thank God the window goes up (with some serious encouragement). Still raining buckets.  And snowing in the high country.

Got to Grand Junction.  Found a cheap but clean motel. Thank God. Made it to Paul's graduation. Rained more buckets. All the way through the graduation.

But Paul was grinning from ear to ear when he got that diploma. And so were we.

Then went to I-Hop.  Waited almost an hour (behind a bazillion other graduates and their families) for a table. Had pancakes. Yum.

Headed home.  Rain stopped.  Finally.

Went to Cousin Wendy's grad party. Visited with Uncle Steve.  Headed all the way home. Feeling sticky and wrinkled after sitting in the rain and drying, sitting in the rain and drying.  Thinking about my own soft, warm bed and a nice hot shower...

 Finally got home. Well not working. No water.

Sigh.

But. Gabe comes in the front door and says: "What a happy day, Mommy! Paul got his graduation, we got to see Nicole and Grandma and Grandpa. And I learned how to tie my shoes." (Which he had hours and hours of practice on in the car.)

 It was a happy day. Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink. But. It was a happy day. 

It is a happy day.

God is good.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Quick


1.  Busy, busy, busy.  Preparing to drive over the mountains  this afternoon (five hours or so) to get to Grand Junction for Paul's college graduation Saturday morning,where we'll meet Dan's mom and dad and drop off the three youngest girls to hang out with their grandparents.  Then we'll head back to Denver Saturday afternoon to try and catch my neice's college graduation -- or at least the barbecue afterward, with the little boys and Michelle in tow.  Then we may be trying to hook up with a prospective house buyer back at the farm sometime Saturday.  Then, hopefully, a bit of a rest Sunday until Jon and Dominic roll in from Omaha in the evening.  And, Monday morning, we pack the cars and head up to the mountains for five days of family-get-together-shenanigans!  Woohoo!

 I'm gonna need the rest.

2.  Just signed a contract with a realtor, too, so we have to leave the house spotless before we leave on the trip.  Ugh.

3.  Gabe has learned how to play Heads or Tails -- and he is driving me nuts.  Heads or Tails, Mommy?  Heads, I say.  I'm wrong.  Ten minutes later: Heads or Tails, MommyTails, I say.  I'm wrong.  It wouldn't be driving me so nuts if I got one right every once in a while...

4. Nicole goes for her first OB (Baby!) appointment today and she and Paul will hopefully get to hear our little grandbaby's heartbeat.  What a wonderul moment that is!  I remember the first time we ever heard a baby's heartbeat -- Paul's 22 years ago.  You think you understand that you're going to have a baby, you have a good academic understanding that a little life is growing within you, and you ponder and worry and project what that means.  You think you get it.  And then you hear that little heart and you really get it.  You know it's real.  He or she is real.  Wow. Heads or tails Nicole will cry?

5.  About motherhood, but a completely different take... I wrote a rant about this, but decided not to post it, as I think the fact of the outrage speaks for itself and you can probably guess what I would say without my saying it.  Here's what:  This past Sunday, Mother's Day Sunday, the Denver Post elected to publish on its front page an article celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of "the pill."  This was the only mention of Mothers' Day other than a story embedded  later in the paper that sympathized with the fate of a mother whose son had been seriously injured in Iraq.  God bless her.  And of course there were sales ads.  Happy Mothers' Day, Denver.

God help us.

6.  But, again on Motherhood... I'm thinking about making a small blog called "Mothers' Helper."  I'll only add to it occasionally, as time and inspiration allow, but its main purpose would be to share little tricks of the trade I've learned over twenty-three years and ten children.  I want desperately not to be preachy, but I've been asked to share what I've learned -- and who knows what might help someone else through a sticky spot I had to navigate by trial and error?  Anyway, if you think this would be useful, let me know, and I'll get on it this summer.

7.  This is what roughing it with twenty people for a week looks like.

More Quick Takes at Conversion Diaries!

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Toesday

It's finally warm enough to shed our socks around here.  Check out the sock kicked off at the bottom of the slide (at right) for proof!  This obervation is the bigger picture of our weather right now, though, seeing as Colorado has snow in the forecast for tomorrow! But we've put away the snow boots and I'm not digging them back out, doggone it!  We are ready to wiggle our toes in the grass, even if our tootsies turn blue digging through the snow to get to it.  After eight months of bondage in socks and laced-up shoes and boots,  our feet cry for freedom! Huzzah! for sandals, and flipflops, and little bare feet!  

To the front of the cupboards now come the summertime supplies for our long-neglected winter toes: toenail polish, clippers, foot lotion, etc -- but more importantly -- bandaids, antibiotic cream, and tweezers for stepped-on stickers and stubbed toes. And we've already put the footy-first-aid to use.  Anna had a toe so abused from a stub this past weekend, she had no choice but to wear white stockings with her white sparkly sandals on First Holy Communion Day to cover it up. Such a sweet, delicate thing, our Anna, she told me matter-of-factly, "Yeah, I took a good chunk of meat out of it."  Ew. Sweet little thing.  Can you tell she has six brothers? (The pic at the top left there is William's silky smooth little foot, not Anna's chewed up one, btw.  And the toesies below-right, with the pink anklet are Cathy's.)

But Anna's toe has not been the only casualty thus far this season:  Dan was playing basketball with the young people a few weeks ago and somehow or another managed to smash both of his big toes.  They both turned extraordinary colors of black and blue until he finally lost the toenail on one of them a couple of days ago. He's now wearing socks with his summertime sandals.  Ew.  (Don't worry, I wouldn't post a picture of Dan's feet.  The bald toe and the socks-with-sandals thing are both gross, but at least he wears white socks and not black...)  Anyway, Dan can sympathize with second Son, Kevvy, who was playing football barefoot the other day and sprained his big toe. He's limping, but OK.   Goodness sakes, though...  We're not even half-way through May yet and it's open season on feet!  Sheesh. 

But, cool and happy and free of their bonds our tootsies skip with joy in between the accidents.  It's worth it.  I guess.

But, on the subject of toes, here's a bit of trivia for ya:

Have you ever noticed how many people in your family have the second toe longer than the first toe?  (Unlike Gabe's toes to the left there.) This has often been a subject for comment and discussion around here.  When I was a teenager, some boy tried flirting with me by telling me that my feet proved I was bee-u-tee-ful because my second toes were longer than my first, and thus my feet were "Greek"  (like the beautiful Athena), as opposed to "Roman" (as in: not like the beautiful Athena).  Yeah, whatever.  I didn't fall for the flattery then.  But, I looked it up this morning out of curiosity and found that there is, indeed, a  sort of scientific mythology about toes; there truly is a toe configuration called Greek "atavisim." And, as it turns out, Greek toes have an official scientific name: Morton's Toes. Check out what I found at Wikipedia:

 It (the second-longer-toe foot shape) has a long association with disputed anthropological and ethnic interpretations. Morton called it Metatarsus atavicus, considering it an atavism recalling prehuman grasping toes. In statuary and shoe fitting it has been called the Greek foot (as opposed to the Egyptian foot, where the great toe is longer). A longer second toe has often been associated with royalty, particularly during the rule of the Ptolemaic dynasty when Egypt was under Greek rulership. It was an idealized form in Greek sculpture, and this persisted as an aesthetic standard through Roman and Renaissance periods and later (the Statue of Liberty has toes of this proportion). There are also associations found within Celtic groups. However, the amount of people within the Greek ethnic group who exhibit Morton's toe exceeds 95%. It has often been used as a means of hereditary identification, as it is a dominant trait feature among those of Greek heritage. The French call it commonly pied grec (just as the Italians call it piede greco), but sometimes pied ancestral or pied de Néanderthal.

Fascinating, huh?  So, I do have Greek toes!  The kid had at least one thing right.  And, though, I would never be called beautiful, I do at least have something in common with the Statue of Liberty -- and 95% of the Greek population.  And, though a common ancestry is ridiculous,  it would seem that we Greek-toed people may also have something in common with apes.  Just as plausible as naming them "Greek toes," we could call our funny feet "Monkey Toes."

For the record, in our family of twelve:
My toes are Greek, Dan's are Egyptian (Not actually Roman, like my flirter called them.)
Paul's are Egyptian
Kevvy's are Greek (and really weird because his 3rd toe is also longer than his first toe)
Jon's are Egyptian
Dominic's are Greek
Michelle is also weird, bless her: one foot is Egyptian, the other Greek (We love ya, anyway, Shell...)
Theresa's are Egyptian
Cathy's are Greek
Anna's are Greek
Gabey's are Egyptian
William's are Egyptian
and our newest daughter (in-law), Nicole's, are: Neither Greek nor Egyptian, because her first and second toes are just the same size.  Maybe they're Italian, since that is her heritage. :)

* So, if you count both Michelle and Nicole as half points in each category, the family is exactly split between Greek and Egyptian toes.  The most interesting thing you've found out today, right?  (gglggl)

* Can't wait to see what our Grandbaby's feet look like!  We'll have to wait 'til late next fall to find out, but you know I'll post pictures.

*Go figure, the worldwide web has a site dedicated to toes.  Just toes.  You're not surprised are you?

Sunday, May 9, 2010

What Makes My Monday

Memories of a special day
to carry in my mother's heart...
 My littlest girl's First Holy Communion Day
The best possible Mothers' Day gift.
From Jesus to Anna -- 
and Anna to Jesus --
And all the love couldn't help but spill over
to Anna's Mommy, too.









Anna's First Holy Communion Day
and first Heart-to-Heart Visit with Jesus.
May 9th, 2010



More Makes My Mondays at Cheryl's!


Happy, Blessed Mothers' Day!

To all my blogging mother friends!
Because through all the years
And all the changes in your world
At the heart of all your love and kindness
we all still know the sweetness of this little girl...

I love ya, Mom!
Happy Mothers' Day!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Quick Takes, Seven of Them

1.  There's a box of leftover Easter chocolate tucked into the shelf above the computer right in front of my face, but I'm not going to eat it.  No, I am not.  I'm doing a cleansing diet right now and trying very hard to be disciplined.  And I've done a pretty good job all week, too, drinking the special "shake" morning and evening and eating a small portion of low-fat meat and vegetables at lunch time.  I have had a cup of coffee in the mornings, though, and indulged in popcorn and a couple pieces of cheese tonight while we watched Inkheart.  But, having gone a little off the reservation, I'm not going to sucker myself into making it worse. I am not going to eat that chocolate. Nope.  I'm pretending it's not there.  Chocolate?  What chocolate?

2.  The weather here has been glorious the last couple of days, if a little chilly in the mornings and windy in the afternoon, but that's typical for Colorado in the spring.  We've had enough rain that the usually dry creekbed a couple miles from our house is running as full as we've ever seen it, which is a blessing.  A high water table is a good sign for our shallow well.  Our lilacs are getting ready to bloom and we're keeping an eye out for all the spring bulbs we planted a couple of weeks ago, but none are up yet.  The only thing really blooming are our baby pink tulips and the grape hyacinths that have naturalized all over our yard and the big purple alliums -- not much yet for making May bouquets for the Blessed Mother.  Hopefully we'll have those lilacs soon! 

3. I mentioned in last week's Quick Takes that Dan had a two-month consulting job that we were looking forward to tiding us over a bit, since his start-up company is not making money yet.  But, unfortunately, it seems the job fell through.  Ah, well.  The Lord giveth; the Lord taketh away.  Blessed be the name of the Lord.  I expect something else will come along.  In the meantime, our savings are holding out ok.  And I got about eight jars of all natural peanut butter on sale the other day.  It's all good.

4.  We've got baby fever around here.  Not only are the children going to be Aunts and Uncles for the first time next fall, but they'll soon be getting a new cousin, as my brother Dave and his wife, Tanya (who live in Georgia) are expecting soon.  It seems strange to be celebrating the births of other family members babies.  Strange, but wonderful!  It was getting a little boring with me being the only one adding to the family tree. It's about time someone else pitched in to help out.  Seriously!

5.   Mother's Day weekend is coming up -- and I haven't heard a peep about any plans.  Does that mean I should assume there aren't any?  Should I rustle something up myself, just in case?  Or is there a chance that someone with influence in my realm will actually read this and get the hint?  Just in case they do -- I would like chicken enchiladas and a nice big salad.   And, since it's going to be Mother's Day and diets do not apply, I have been thinking about no-bake cookies ever since Cathy mentioned them this afternoon.  You know the kind with oatmeal and peanut butter and chocolate?  And put walnuts in at least half of them, if you please.  And cards? I'd love at least six home-made ones, please.  At least one of them has to have flowers and faeries on it.  And I would be ok if one had dinosaurs, as long a they have daisies in their teeth or something.  Oh, and speaking of flowers, I would love a dandelion necklace and bracelet.  And a glass of Guinness.  And that's all. Thank-you.

6.  I haven't listened to a news report for over two weeks. I tried to lisen to Rush Limbaugh one day, but was too busy to pay attention, and it all just didn't seem to matter much.  I like to hear the news about weather events and the victims we need to pray for and if the economy crashes or the grid is blown up, I guess I'd better know about it, but I don't miss the politics and crime news at all.  That's the one thing about getting rid of our TV feed that has really changed my life.  I used to watch the news while I folded laundry, and never missed Glenn Beck, so I at least had a clue what was going on in the world.  Now I find out something only if it's important enough to be mentioned by my blogging friends, or if I happen across it by accident on the internet.  Dan's just as out of the loop as I am, so he can't fill me in and I can't inform him, either.  We're just dumb and happy around here, I guess.  But, I'm not sure it's a bad thing.  

Maybe it's a good thing that the biggest news in my world revolves around my aging parents' health and the solar batteries my brother just bought.  And the most persistent news is about whether or not William is playing nicely with Gabriel and who has a splinter and who's turn it is to catch the chickens and throw them in the pen.  It's not much, any of it, but it's my whole world.  I can't help but wonder if these are the news flashes that heaven watches with more interest, actually.  It's the trillion and one little day-to-day events that make up our world and determine its health in God's eyes, not the big picture stuff that they add to.  I have no control over the big picture, anyway.  But I can take out splinters and break up squabbles and teach children -- and chickens -- to mind their manners.  That I can do.  Who cares what CNN and Fox News are up to?

7.  I really am not going to eat that chocolate.  In case you wondered.  (Really, I'm not.)

*  Lots of fun Quick Take stuff going on at Conversion Diaries today.  Go see!

Worrying

Another interactive task from our museum trip this week:

How's this for concentration?


The idea is that if you are completely relaxed, the sensors in the headband pick up the "calm signals" and relay the message to the magnetic ball, which will roll away from you toward your opponent.


The trick is to see who can roll the little ball into the circle opposite.
The most chilled-out player wins.

It's hard work being that relaxed.

For the record, Gabey won this round, though Anna gave him a run for the money. I played against Theresa a little later and was pretty confident I could beat her. After years and years of actively practicing Lamaze relaxation techniques, I'm actually pretty good at going limp, but, though I came within an inch of winning, I ended up giving it to Theresa.

Here's why.

Having left Michelle to watch over the other children while I played, I had no problem being calm... and relaxed... and focused.... Eyes open (because I can't relax if I can't see what I'm doing), I serenely concentrated on the little silver ball... But then the children started showing up next to the game table, one by one: there's Cathy, there's Anna, there's Gabe, there's our friend Philomena, then Joe... and, though I was a little distracted, I was still winning. Even with all the spectators, the ball kept rolling toward Theresa's circle.
Until Michelle walked up.

I could see her out of the corner of my eye. Michelle was there -- but not William. Even though I wasn't aware I was counting, the alarm bell went off. Where was William? Who was watching him? After five minutes of working the little ball all the way over the track, within two seconds, I lost control over it and it had rolled almost all the way back to me. Calm gone.

"Where's your brother?" I asked Michelle.

"He's right there," she said. "Don't worry; I'm watching him."

And I tried to believe her; I tried to regain my stress-free, game-winning composure. But I couldn't do it. I rallied for about thirty seconds, keeping it near the middle of the track... But I had to quit and let Theresa roll it on in and win. There was no way I was going to relax until I could see William with my own eyes.
Defeated by mother-worry.
It's stronger than the tides, this instinct to guard and protect our children. God hard-wires it into mothers, and, though there are sad cases of women who seem to be missing the nurturing gene, I believe they are the ill-effect of a Godless society, or a mother's own deprived childhood, an aberration from nature, not God's plan at all. We mothers take some grief for it, but our worry is a good thing, a gift. Really it is.

Let's break worry down into its vital components and separate it from the bad connotations. Webster says to worry is to "feel or experience concern or anxiety," but this is the third definition. The first definition is: "to choke or strangle." And that's what it does, doesn't it? Concern run amok chokes and strangles -- us and those around us. Many of us fall into this occasionally, by losing track of God's providence. But what our husbands and children usually tease and rail about isn't that choking and strangling worry, it's really concern. Here's the definition of concern: "a marked interest or regard usually arising through a personal tie or relationship." That is the God-given gift. It's the tie that binds.
There is an image in Jane Eyre, that Mr. Rochester uses to describe his love for Jane. He says "...it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame..." I've always loved this analogy because I can identify with it. All mothers have invisible strings knotted from that same location to all the little hearts that they have borne and/or nurtured. That's what love is. It's what love does to us. More than just a "marked interest or tie," it's a deep responsiblity, a charge from our Heavenly Father to guide and guard our children. It's why we worry; God has tied invisible tethers from our hearts to all of theirs.

Mothers treasure the babyhoods of their children when the bond is so close and warm and sweet. There is barely a separation between us; the string is blue and pink ribbon, tied in a bow. But, then our little ones grow up and start to separate from us, and we struggle to get used to the tugging. That first day of school just about kills us. But we live through it, and become accustomed to the change, as bit by bit, our children stretch our connecting string out into the world and away from our sides, gradually farther and farther, sometimes in fits and starts. The bow pulls out, but the link remains. The children don't know it, but the string is always there. In their search for independence, they test it, and yank on it, and stretch it thin, but it can't be broken. We won't let it be. Because that's what mothers do. We love.

And because we love, we worry. Which is a good thing. It's a gift from God.
And those on the receiving end of a mother's worry are highly blessed, indeed.

 
<3<3<3

Worry dolls tutorial here!