I am tired. I am also incredibly glad this weekend is over!!
Dh had a scout thing all day Saturday, I had soccer. All day. We were home 3 hrs. My house looks like it. Today was Mass and then 2 more soccer games and hair cuts for the 3 boys.
I don’t like weekends like this. Our house looks terrible, our yard got no attention and we are more worn than we were before the weekend started. Luckily every weekend isn’t like this and we will jump back throughout the week and move on.
I couldn’t help but think tonight, as I sat pseudo watching the television how incredibly magical this point in pregnancy is. As I was sitting there, trying to think about the show I was watching, after all of the children had been tucked snuggly into their beds, all I could think about was the little one stirring inside my womb. His movements weren’t strong and painful like they will be later on in pregnancy, no these were soft, intimate and even fleeting. These movements weren’t the kind that you call the kids over to watch from the other side of the room. No. These, these special little flutters, were meant just for me. No one on the outside would be able to feel them, or watch them. These movements were just between us. For that moment it was clear, tangible even, that I was carrying a beautiful, wonderful gift. One that was given only to me. Yes, I know that eventually, soon even, my husband will be in on this little touch of heaven, but right then there was a dance going on in my womb. My baby was saying hello. He was saying “I love you mommy”. And all I could do was be silent, be still and smile knowing that I love him too. Before I’ve laid my eyes upon him, before I’ve heard his cry, I love him.
These moments are fleeting, they only last a couple weeks, maybe months if you’re lucky, and then suddenly anyone can touch your growing belly and feel that life within you. They can witness the baby, my baby, dancing, streching, moving either with their eyes, or their hands. But right now. This glorious right now. Even with the tv on in the background, even before he takes his first breath, my baby and I are loving one another. I wouldn’t trade this time of my life for anything.
We had our “big” appointment yesterday. Sorta. We got to the doctors office to find out that the person who schedules the appointments (scheduler?) decided not to enter our name into the computer. At all. Add to that that our doctor was out of the office for the day and they couldn’t see me. ARGH!! Dh took the day off for this one! So she asked if we would like to do the ultrasound and make another appointment to see the doc when he’s in the office. We opted for that one. So I have to go back in on Wednesday to talk to the doctor, but I did get to see our little one!!
So for those of you keeping track, it’s a BOY!! We’ll have 2 girls and 4 boys. He looks healthy and happy and is swimming away in there. It looks as if all of his body parts are there and I think everything looks good.
WOOOHOOO!
Thank you Saint Anthony! The cross was found! It’s now back, safely, around my neck.
I keep saying “I need to blog” and then I have no idea what to blog about and I sit here staring at the blank screen. It’s not that I don’t have a million things on my mind, I do, I just don’t know what to pick I guess.
I have some sewing projects that are staring me down begging to be done. 5 short sleeved shirts for my boys, 3 of which are Halloween shirts, two pair of pants for the older 2 boys, a couple of dresses for my #1 (thank goodness I haven’t bought the fabric for that yet) and a skirt for #2 (once again, at least there’s no fabric involved here either). I’ve got two crochet projects that have yet to be finished, a blanket for #5 who is now nearly 2, and a bag for #2 who I think has totally given up on ever seeing a finished product. I am going to attempt to at least get one of the shirts done today, we’ll see. I’ll have to let you know.
OH! On Monday we go to the doc for “the” ultrasound. We’ll find out whether we’re doing ribbons and bows or more puppy dog tails. I am hoping for ribbons and bows. We’ll see. God knows. He knows what we needed and what we think we needed so we’ll see what happens. I will be sure to update that on Monday sometime!
I have misplaced my cross that I wear daily (along with my St. Gerard medal, you can’t have too many friends in high places) it’s somewhere between my bed and my bathroom counter. I couldn’t tell you where. You would think it would be easy to spot. It’s not huge, not tiny either though. It’s silver. Shouldn’t blend into the carpet. I feel naked without it on, like I forgot to put my shirt on. It almost seems silly, only almost. Now, if I could just get into the habit of wearing my scapular as much as I’ve gotten into wearing the cross. St. Anthony, please help me to locate my cross, you know how much it means to my heart.
I’ve been a terrible blogger lately.
Lots of excuses. Sick children being the biggest.
Yep, sick again.
Hopefully it’s now out of our systems, and our air ducts!
An incredible man passed away last night. He was quiet, soft spoken and kind hearted.
Every Sunday he would walk into Mass with a black brief case type thing and after Mass he would open it and pull out 2 old fashioned Whitman’s candy tins that he had, in the week previous, filled lovingly with candy. All kinds. And not just thrown in there, but placed with care. The tins would be entrusted to some small child who would then take them to the narthex and place them on a shelf. Every child there was allowed a piece. Every child. I learned tonight he brought the candy because he wanted to bring as many little children to God as he could, even if it took a piece of candy after Mass.
My children will miss him. Badly. My #4 child has already been missing him, as he’s been gone for some time with the illness that took his life. He was hopeful that “the Candy Man” would get better and come back. I guess he is back, in an incredibly beautiful way. Now the children have a wonderful friend in a very high place! I am certain that the prayers of all of these children for his soul will echo through heaven, probably for most of their lives. He’s that kind of man. He won’t be forgotten.
I love the concept of Purgatory. I love the teaching that we can, and should, pray for our dead. They’re not lost to us at all. It’s such a comfort and I am so grateful that I was given this faith to give to my children. I know that they can take great comfort in the fact that whenever they think of the Candy Man, or anyone for that matter that’s died, that they can say a prayer. I don’t think there is ever a time when I am more happy to be a Catholic than when I experience death. There is so much hope, so much expectation, we are carried by the liturgy, we are carried by the prayers and we are carried by the knowledge that all is not lost. All is not gone.
My children will be singing in the choir at his funeral Mass on Monday morning. He requested that as many children as can sing be allowed.
Eternal rest grant unto him O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed through the Mercy of God rest in peace.
Amen.
Today was a relatively productive day. School got done, I had to make an “emergency” run to the store to get supplies for the latest science experiment. I have known I needed to go to the store for a week, putting off that particular lesson even, still didn’t get it done. Until today. I feel better now, the child who will get the experiment is quite happy about it too. Finally!
We had soccer practices this evening. My oldest will be on a traveling team, in a new age bracket, so it looks like it will be a busy season. The latest trend here for soccer is to have Sunday games. I really don’t like that. I liked that Saturday was soccer day and then you were done. With three kids playing there’s now a real possiblity we won’t have a single day of our weekend for our family. Frustrating. Soccer does provide a pretty effective PE program so I am grumbling, but not quitting. At least not yet.
I went shopping at the local fabric store on Sunday. I have not been sewing long and would never say that I had any talent with the machine, but I am learning to read a pattern and put things together. If I had a bit more patience I think the talent would come… Anyway, the boys have been bugging me to make something for them (the girls have gotten doll clothes, skirt and a whole outfit, pillows…) so I went shopping. I got fabric to make the two older boys each 2 short sleeved camp style shirts (one for everyday, and one for halloween) and the youngest will have a matching halloween shirt. I also got fabric to make the 2 older ones some pants. Just elastic waisted, nothing big, but it should be good! We’ll see how they turn out. I’ll have to post pics. The really cool news about that whole trip was that I think I might have gotten my husband talked into letting me take over part of the bedroom to get a sewing area permanently set up. The only problem is he wouldn’t have much sleep time, as the only time to sew seems to be about midnight. I’m sure he’ll get used to the hum of the machine and the occasional grumble from me!
On a completely different note, a dear friend of mine has celebrated a special birthday of a special child today. You know you’re in my prayers and thoughts! I bet our two *daughters* are conversing right now!
Mama Mary hold your daughter, let her feel your loving embrace.
Well, I seemed to have gotten my act together enough to have gotten everyone invited to the slumber party, but my house! That is another story! We’re frantically running around trying to get it picked up and decorated before it’s time. I really need to plan these things out a bit more before I jump into them.
I should run and start icing a cake. Cherry Chip cake! yum!! I haven’t had one since I was a kid. I can’t wait.
Just watched Mr. Holland’s Opus. Again. There are so many parts of that movie that make me long for a different time. When things were more simple, easier to do. When I felt I was a part of something bigger than myself. We would step onto a football field, or a stage, and the anticipation was tangible. We would perform our hearts out, pouring everything into what we were doing, knowing the whole time that no one was looking at us as individuals. We were a group. We all had a vital voice, but not an individual voice. If we failed, the group failed. If we succeeded then the group did as well. We were important and depended upon. The directors cared whether or not we showed up. They were clear when we were horrid, and equally as clear when we were incredible. I don’t think those men understand, not even now, what kind of an impact they had on our lives. There were those of us there that felt (in the midst of our teenage angst) that music was all we had. That the music that they gave us was all that kept us where we were on this earth. And for many of us, that wasn’t too far off from the truth.
The one single thing that makes me apprehensive about homeschooling my children is the fact that they will miss this opportunity. The opportunity to perform a piece of beautifully composed music with a group of musicians. To hear the sounds reverberating off of the walls, back to them. To feel the music. I am sad that they will miss that.
I need to create other opportunities for them to “feel” the music, to fall in love with it, to know how it feels to fill your lungs with air that will be turned into the most beautiful sounds. So, I guess that’s my project this year. To help them to fill that part of them that good music, or art can fill. To teach them the miracle of art and music and what “real” beauty is. What “real” music is. Tall task! I think (I hope) I’m up to it!!
St. Cecelia pray for us!
Peace and Quiet 