He waved. Yes, it was the most memorable thing about our first year of baseball. Every time he got up to bat, got on base, ran each base, and got home HE WOULD TURN AND WAVE TO ME. From t he first game until the last game, it was precious. Oh, the beautiful innocence of a child. Waving to your mother in front of all your friends at your baseball game. I tried several times to get a picture, but this is the best I came up with. See his beautiful smile and little hand waving.
Our whole family enjoyed every minute of Dominic's baseball games and practices. Zellie especially looked forward each week to seeing Makenna, the coach's daughter who brought her Polly Pockets. Even when Lillie and Rose would opt to stay home for a practice, Zellie always wanted to come and sit with me so she could see Makenna. It was very involved, each practice and game. They all would pack their purses full of surprises, picnic options, babies, strollers. I let them. I love it. It takes forever to load and unload, but I love it. They always brought their sitting chairs like elderly ladies. Oh, Dominic! The joy you bring to your parents. They forgot to tell me that when I had children EVERYTHING would be special. True to my usual self, his first time up to bat, I have tears streaming down my face. Good thing for sunglasses! He looked so big, yet so little, yet so innocent and then of course he started his whole waving thing and I was done the whole season. Smiling. He preferred to play right field, but "I really like catcher too!"
It was a beautiful evening so we decided to head up to St. Pete's to say night prayer. Zellie brought her coveted Gemma doll along. Gemma has porcelain feet and when she was accidentally dropped on the tile floor, they broke off in two. Oh, the sadness. When we were leaving, John suggested a lovely game of hide and seek out in the court yard. All of a sudden while I am hiding behind a pole, I see Zellie and Rose giggling and laughing and then smack. They ran into each other and fell over. I look over to see Zellie's head oozing with blood down the front. I thought, "What just happened??? I didn't know that she was carrying Gemma's broken feet in her hands and when she fell she jabbed them into her own head. John and I were stunned and just sat there holding her. She wasn't screaming, but had actually become very limp and had a weak cry which scared me even more. Luckily, my sister was with us and ran home to get our car so we could take her in. The doctor decided to just glue her wounds back together. So, this is the picture we took Thursday night.
Do you see anything different in the second picture? Look closely. Yes, there is another wound. THE VERY NEXT NIGHT (24 HOURS LATER), I was getting them out of the bath and she tripped and fell hitting her head on the corner of our floor boards. I hear the fall, the cry, and look around the corner to blood oozing down her face again and ANOTHER open, puncture wound. I kept saying, "Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me?" So, off we go again. So embarrassing. John decided to buy some Liquid Skin and fix this one himself. Thank Goodness he knows what he is doing.
She is healing nicely and reminds us every day to put Vitamin E on her head. John says she is thinking "Prom."
At first, it started out "cute" or "darling", but now it is nothing but serious and at times we have to make her stop. This girl r.e.a.d.s. A.L.L. d.a.y. The stories of her are quickly becoming legendary. The week we brought Clairvaux home all the kids got the stomach flu. I was up nursing the baby and we heard Vianney crying. John went in there to find that she had thrown up. He got her up so he could clean the bed up. She came toddling out and sat down to...read. Yep. Even when she is plagued with serious illnesses she can still muster up the gusto to read. She was sitting in our dark living room, pale faced, but still reading. We ate with some friends last night and got home around 10:30. We told the kids to get dressed, brush their teeth and hop in bed. Where did we find the little one? On the couch, in the dark, reading her books. I will post those pictures later. I took these pictures to show John on our camera how often she was caught reading this specific day. Here is the time stamp for each picture: 3:15 PM
3:20 PM
3:22 PM
3:34 PM
4:10 PM
4:20 PM
4:26 Pm The pile that accumulates all over our house.
The day my mom left her and I went for a few last errands with Vianney. We were out and about for an hour and a half. The ENTIRE trip she sat in her carseat and scanned her book. We went to fill up the car=reading. I ran into Chipotle=reading. We picked up a pair of shoes=reading. We stopped to get a pop=reading. She never looked up. She just sat occasionally mouthing the words to her books.s If she has a brief moment, she will catch up on the latest news.
Before bed she fits it in.
The most popular pick: Go Dog Go. If we lost it, her world wouldn't be right. The book meets all her needs. She chants it in her language all day. Big Dog, Little Dog, Black Dog, White Dog.
I took a nap with you today and woke up way before you. Every time I had the urge to get up and leave you peacefully asleep, I couldn't. I wanted to stare. So, I did. I don't want to miss a thing. I love your little fists up near your face when you sleep. As always for me after a baby, I am so emotional. I cry about everything namely you, my worries for and about you, my INTENSE love for you already, my grief of the pregnancy being over, my elation about getting to have a new baby in the house. I thought today how wonderful it is to have a BABY in the house. More, I thought how wonderful it is to hear the word BABY from people who ask about you, to people who stop by, to all the wonderful times I say it during the day. "Please don't wake the BABY." "Can I hold the BABY?" "Do you need to nurse the BABY?" I have always loved babies. I still sit and hold you all the time. I let everything else go. At night, I cannot put you down. Your father said the other night (joking), "You hold her too much!" I can never hold you enough. You already know me and are INSTANTLY comforted by my voice and touch. I love it and am pridefully proud of it. Your siblings always ask, "How does she know it is you?" We've known each other for some time now. I feel the same way about you.
You are 3 whole weeks today. You need to stop that. Stop changing everyday. Tiny, little feet. I cannot ever grasp baby feet. So tiny and sweet. There is something very special about children's hands and feet. I look at all my children's hands and feet often and it is often a measurement of how each of you are growing. I hold them up to mine. I have an odd habit the first months after a baby of constantly walking by a mirror to see if you are still scrunchie small. You know, the kind of small that a newborn does when the tuck their buns way up high. The kind of small that when you hold them up, they pull their darling little legs up. The kind of small that is floppy and so fun to hold and put up right near your neck and they just flop over. I love it. Your eyes are intense with so much to say. You make great eye contact and we look at each other a lot. Please tell me all you know.
H/T: The Anchoress A moving video for anyone who has ever had a good father.
Perhaps an even more moving video for those whose fathers were broken, or deeply flawed, or not there at all.
In a former parish, there was a sister-liturgist who–eager to promote “sensitivity”–decided that the Gloria should be sung with the refrain “Glory to God in the Highest, and peace to God’s people on earth;” she was content to brutalize the ear, change a liturgical prayer that is not supposed to be changed, and disorient the people just a tad, in order that no one should be subjected to that troubling male pronoun, “His.”
I always thought it was a nonsensical point; why go to the trouble of training the people to avoid the “His” in that sung prayer, when it proceed to refer to God as “Heavenly King, Almighty God and Father,” and to Jesus as “only Son of the Father.” And of course, I got into a civil debate with her about it.
“You don’t understand,” she said kindly (because she was a very kind sister) “it’s important that we begin to think of God as having no gender at all, containing aspects of both mother and father, but not limited to our understanding as “Father.”
“Yes, mysticism if fine; I’m a fan,” I said. “But the prayer–which is liturgical and not subject for editing by you or me–makes enough male references throughout that it seems incongruous and silly, to enforce this clumsy and cold “Glory to God and peace to God’s people,” phrasing. It’s ick to my ear. And it puts God at a distance; it’s not intimate.”
To sister’s credit she remained kind but she did buckle down and let me know she wasn’t budging. “There are a lot of people in the world who have had bad fathers, they have bad memories, a lot of people find referring to God as “Father” to be distancing and hurtful. They cannot relate.”
“Well, sister, I happen to be one of those people who had a bad father and carries bad memories, and I like referencing God as Father; I happen to find great comfort and solace in having a Heavenly Father who more than fills the void left by my earthly one.”
She looked stunned. “You are the first person who has ever said that to me; that is not the usual perspective.”
“But don’t you think that’s a perspective worth promoting? Isn’t it a much better thing to tell people whose fathers have failed that they may be consoled by a Father who will never fail? Wouldn’t that be more positive, and ultimately more healing, than wrecking the liturgy to pander to neurotic sadness?”
We live in an era where all Motherhood is celebrated as a “choice,”, but choices are by their nature invitations to be inconsistent. When a mother may “selectively reduce” her twins or triplets down to the one “chosen” child, or carry a baby unto viability, then deliver just enough child from the birth canal in order to slaughter it, the celebrated post-modern notions of motherhood do not speak much to transcendent constancy or unfailing love, and yet it is Fatherhood that has taken a beating in the culture. It is Fatherhood that is considered dispensable, on earth and–apparently–in heaven.
Good mothers are amply applauded in society, as they should be. Perhaps if we can funnel some of the whirlwinds of the age back into valuing fatherhood, and celebrating the powerful effect of a good father on his children’s lives, people will be encouraged–or allowed–to find the Fatherhood of God and embrace it for themselves, be consoled and taught by a Person whose earthly counterpart they may have missed in their lives. Perhaps fathers will themselves discover in that reflection, the inspiration and instruction they need to love with wisdom and space.
When a child steps out and tries something risky, and then falls, the mother is quick to run to him, console him and hug him close; she frets for him. The father is the one who says, “I’m here if you fall, only do not be afraid.”
The child needs both.
We are formed in God’s image; we are meant to reflect God to each other, in all of our relationships. If fathers are invisible on earth, we lose site of God in Heaven; losing sight of Him, we lose site of the Son and Holy Ghost as well, and tumble-spin into a cold and distant world of incompleteness, which is incompatible with the Restoration we await.
Please check out this fabulous food blog. Every recipe I have tried of hers is pure delight. Megan is married to my cousin Toby. My kids request this EVERY day. What a great way to get them to eat spinach and avocado. We've been doing these everyday for lunch.
Here is her write up:
Lucía's 8 week follow up with our midwives was this past Thursday, and I am happy to report that my little lady has gained five pounds and is doing beautifully. FIVE pounds. I walked out of their clinic positively beaming. Nothing makes this mama happier than seeing my babies become fat little piggies on nothing but my milk.
It casually came up in conversation that I've been eating two whole avocados per day, at which point the midwife stopped and said "Wait--No wonder she's gained five pounds!" It's true, mamas. Avocados make good milk and are among the breastfeeding super foods, in my opinion. Having good fat, like that from avocados, is crucial to producing quality, satisfying milk for your babes.
Aside from mashing them with a little garlic and lemon juice or eating them right out of the skin, I throw them in smoothies, where they impart the most incredible, creamy texture. Since my first avocado smoothie back in May, I've been unable to drink one without the other. I'm addicted. This recipe isn't very different from my first one, but I started throwing some spinach in for even more vibrant color and nutritional value. If you haven't already, definitely experiment with greens in smoothies. The sweetness of the fruit totally masks any possible bitter taste from the greens--the perfect way to quietly incorporate them into your little one's diet.
1 cup plain, whole milk yogurt 1 ripe avocado 1 kiwi 1 cup spinach leaves, packed 2 tablespoons agave nectar 1/2 cup filtered water
Place all the ingredients in a blender, blend and enjoy!
serves 2.
For babies 9 months and older : puree a little ripe avocado, kiwi, whole milk yogurt and serve. 12 months and older : serve as is.
What do you say when you see this in your bathroom? I don't know what or who is cuter? Vianney's chubby calves, all of them in the bathroom, Rose's sandals with her nightgown, or Zellie on her tippy toes? I love it.
We had to take Clairvaux to the Emergency Room Tuesday night for a high fever. All day she was would cry in pain, but I thought it was due to the chili I had eaten the night before. I finally called Dr. McNeely after she woke up from her nap and was very warm. He sent me right to the ER. I looked like I had been in a fight with Rocky because I cried so hard. I was there from 4:30 until 10:00. They did a spinal tap, complete blood work and urine culture. The initial results were okay so they sent us home instead of admitting. They were very concerned about a newborn having a 102.7 fever. Dr. McNeely said he sent us home because he trusted me. I said, "For heaven's sake, don't trust ME. I am a mess." She is doing better now and the fever is down. Please watch over my little girl and NEVER let her do that again.
Today, I asked Zellie where she learned to dance so good. She told me, "Shop-Ko."
Zellie has these cute little flip-flops that have a blue flower on the front. She came up to me and said, "Dominic told me my shoes are magic." He just smiled at me. I asked him, "Did you tell her that?" He said, "No!" WE both got a good laugh. I wonder why she thought they were magic.
Rose hurt her collar bone a couple nights ago, but was steadily making improvement over the past couple days. Although, this morning she came up to me crying and said, "I can't even make the Father and the Son with this arm." (The sign of the Cross.)
The only problem with the having a digital camera is that I can't seem to keep up on all the blog posts I want to do regarding each child's various interests and cute little habits. Especially with having a new baby, I could post about her every day. One day, we had taken over 400 pictures of Clairvaux and all the different things regarding her, who held her, and all her darling little habits already. So, I guess back blogging with have to do. This post is dedicated to Lillie and all her cute little habits of being six years old. For most of the summer, she has diligently put on this hat everywhere we went. At times, she thought she was Anne Shirley and other times she thought she was Madeline. She always brings her backpack filled with animals. This particular night we were headed up to St. Peter's to say night prayer. I find it so darling she does this.
. I love her enthusiasm about everything. She looks forward to everything be it little or small. One of many things I love about children is their play. It is fascinating if you really watch what they do. This is a common site. They set up areas around the house to read. Vianney is now involved and I am sure Clairvaux will join in no time. Reading clicked with Lillie about six months ago. Now, we see and hear her read all the time. I will always love this site. I am so proud of her. When I was pregnant with Clairvaux, I walked almost every morning early. The kids usually weren't up yet, but this particular morning I came out to walk to find Lillie and Rose all set up in front of the TV. I love that they brought in the little table to color in case the movie got a little old. The best part is the movie they picked out. Out of all the kid movies they could have picked, the choice was "Singing in the Rain." Way too cute. How could I tell them to turn it off? Thank you for all the wonderful, everyday memories The beautiful innocence of a child. They don't care what they look like or what others think of them. They just are. I love their spirit and youth. I love childhood. I love their happiness. We can learn so very much from them and I plan on doing it more and more everyday. Life with them is way too short.
They have waited over 8 months to meet you. One of my best hospital memories this time is seeing your siblings burst through the door to see you. My only regret is that I wasn't videotaping their faces as they walked through the door. We will do that next time! I remember going to visit my mother when she had a new baby. There was nothing better and my heart still beats fast as I remember walking through the hospital door to lay my eyes and hands on my new sibling. What a beautiful gift to give to your children. I had bought a gift to give to each child from Clairvaux, but forgot them at home. I made the girls each a charm bracelet with their initial and a baby charm. Clairvaux gave Dominic a little lego set. I'll have her give their gift to them at her baptism.
