Lord, That I May See

I am really afraid of spiders. I try hard not to be in front of my girls, but let's face it: when Rosebud had a spider in her underwear a few years back and was shrieking, I was shrieking inside. Okay? (wouldn't you be though?) Recently it seems I am being required to revisit my fears again and again. I think it all started when I came upon a show on TV about a family whose house was infested by brown recluse spiders. INFESTED, I tell you. Now I think every little brown spider with a thin body that I see is a deadly poisonous one. I can't help it! Then one morning whilst taking a shower, a black spider appeared in my bathroom. Sunshine, who was hanging out with me, was immobilized, unable to walk past it or step toe to the floor. Turtle had to come and save her. I was rather immobilized myself. Then, one morning in bed, Sunshine looks quite seriously at my forehead and murmurs, "You have a spider on your face. It's cwalling over dere," she assure...

This weekend we are going camping. Camping kind of stinks with kids.   I will be the first to say this.  They get dirty . . . really, really dirty. They like the IDEA of the tent, but not the SLEEPING part.  They have to be taken to pee all the time.  They poop in their pull-ups, or pants or anywhere that you can't possibly clean them sufficiently. They require you to pack way more in extra accessories, like little potties, and 10 changes of clothes, and pacifiers, and baby carriers, and pack and plays, and first aid kits, and wipes, wipes and more wipes.  They wake up at 5:00 in the morning, there is always a creek or rocks or poison ivy or something to pose a extra hazard, not to mention the fire.  They don't eat when you want them to and are starving five seconds later . . .  wait, that's how they are all the time.   Did I mention how dirty they get?? Nevertheless, there is something magic about camping, something that brings us...

1.   It's been a while!  Happy Easter! My friend told me about this song earlier in this joyful season and for days I couldn't get enough of it. 2.  This year we took the girls to the Easter Vigil for the first time.  It was a beautiful and very long mass.  Turtle was enthralled, Rosebud was the paragon of patience and Sunshine  . . . hmm, well, she went potty alot, vigorously explored the acoustics of marble floors with hard-soled shoes, nearly burned her face on votive candles, caused her Mommy or Daddy to miss momentous Easter moments like the Gloria and the Alleluia and experimented with the use of the word "NO!" when asked to "Sit down!". . . .or "Pipe down!" . . . or "Lie down!" . . . We got in the car after over 3 hours inside the church and Turtle gushes "That was SO fun!"  Ah, that kind of reaction makes it so worth it!   3.  Turtle started soccer this spring, like we promised her she could when sh...

We have never done much by way of celebrating St. Patrick's Day in the past.  But this year, since we have discovered that D. is mostly Irish and I am actually a little more Irish than Italian, and since St. Patrick is pretty cool after all (despite the drinking songs and Guinness fumes that seem to cling to his reputation, courtesy of my dear alma mater) I decided to give credit where credit is due and honor the man and heritage that March 17 is about. :)  The girls and I made Pipe Cleaner Shamrocks while singing the Trinity Song , and decorated our table with the results.   D. tried his hand at cooking a brisket and after 9 hours of slow cooking it turned out really delicious!  We had Irish Soda Bread and a veggie appetizer of Snakes and Shamrocks in honor of St. Patrick.   (I ordered Patrick: Patron Saint of Ireland from Amazon to read to the girls, but it hasn't arrived yet, so we'll be talking more about St. Patrick later this week too.)  T...

"Gently!  . . .  Do not hurry so fast!  Begin to live well, according to your vocation: sweetly, simply and humbly.  Then trust in God, who will make you holy when it pleases him. . . .  We must not put our trust in our efforts, but in God and his grace.  Those anxious searchings of heart about becoming perfect and those attempts to determine whether we're making progress are not at all pleasing to God.  They only serve to satisfy our self-love, that subtle tormentor which grasps at so much but accomplishes almost nothing.  One single good work done with a tranquil spirit is worth far more than several done with overeagerness. ~ St. Francis de Sales

"O Jesus, it is true that I am not always faithful, but I never become discouraged. I cast myself into Your arms, and like a little dewdrop, I sink deeper and deeper into Your chalice, O divine Flower of the field, and there I find all I have lost and much more besides.  Yes, O my God, I am happy to feel little and weak in your presence, and my heart remains in peace . . . I am glad to feel so imperfect and to need Your mercy so much!" ~ St. Therese of the Child Jesus

This week I have felt undervalued and unnoticed. I had this whole monologue going in my head about how unaffirmed I am, how unappreciated I am for what I am doing.  I had lectured my husband on the differences between fathers and mothers, about how he is able to know how valued and successful he is because he builds something , a kitchen, a built-in entertainment center, a whole-house renovation and then its done.  It looks gorgeous, people compliment and smile, there are strings of happy clients, good money is given for a good result.  Then he is acclaimed, he is validated and this adds to his feeling of self-worth.   He has recognition for his work.  And I, on the other hand, don't get validated.  The little people I "work for" don't gush about my work.  I don't get thanked for cleaning up the kitchen for the 10th time in a row with no help, nor for sharing my lunch with three other people till it isn't enough for me, for cleaning pee of the b...