My Old Kitchen

 

Our Surprise Reward for the Long Winter Drive--Free Play Station Time in the Waiting Room

 

Mimi Praying at the PICU

 

Loving the Real Masterpieces at the National Gallery

 

My husband the Carmelite

 

Beverly's Full House (playlist)

Wow, I could relate to this scene. A fashion model grandmother's very first words to her daughter and new grandbaby is "she's an ugly baby like you." The random people around the daughter tell her "you just took it the wrong way." The daughter is being so sensitive and ridiculous.

Here's the things, these little cruelties are not in isolation. The stuff that comes out when a new granddaughter joins a family tree is usually big and insightful. I could really relate to the daughter saying "I just want to know why (my Mom) wants to hurt me so that I could apologize." Her husband says "lets just be around people who love us. Lets focus on our daughter and our life together."

The story of the mother-daughter bond running into trouble is as common as rivers that run into the sea. The story of a mother-daughter relationship going smoothly is rare. I think we've got Ruth and Naomi in the Old Testament, and they weren't even biologically related!

On Being Popular

Here's something I thought about this Christmas.

There will never, ever be a long wait to see Jesus at the stable in Bethlehem.  

All you have to do is show up, and you're automatically at the front of the line.

When I was driving to the PICU to visit sick Emma, I worried that I'd be in the way. "Oh her room probably has a visitor limit of 2 people. I'm sure it will be crowded with aunts and grandparents. What if we're a bother and get in the way?"

Guess what? We were not an inconvenience!

There are all kinds of Catholic events that I can not afford to attend as a poor Carmelite. I didn't go to the $100 a plate Catholic Charity dinner in a cool historic home in Martinsburg. I skip the Knights of Columbus spaghetti dinners and the Catholic Daughter's pecan pancake fundraisers.

Yet there will never be a lack of things to do for Christ, or friendships to make, or people to go visit.  Poor shepherd girls get around town--far more than rich Society Girls. I'm glad I'm a shepherd girl.

My New Years Resolution

I asked Jon what about his 2013 New Year's Resolution.

(This is a very important question. Jan 1, 2000, Jon decided to start asking girls out for the first time in his life, rather than settling for whatever girls chased him. Guess who was "girl asked out number 3?" Me!)

He said "I want to make peace the fact that we're the crazy family who ....."

We're the crazy family who has one more baby, or drives far in the snow for a hospital visit, or whatever else we try to tackle that is far from ordinary.

I love it and told him I was stealing that resolution too.

Prayer Request Update

One of my daughter's friends is in Pediatric Intensive Care. She was in a car accident on Christmas Eve. Her dad was working late on Christmas Eve. He got a call that his family was involved in a minor "fender bender." He shows up at Ruby Memorial (a major trauma center 3 hours from our town) three of his family members are unconscious with major head trauma and his little four year old daughter was close to death. For the first 36 hours, he said his little Emma was "touch and go."

Emma is now in stable condition. She's breathing by herself. She's got a "brain bleed". I saw her move all her limbs, but her Mom said they are very worried about her left side. She's making some eye movement. But it's mostly a task of "wait and see" this week.

It was a great grace to get to see her on December 30. My husband drove all five of us 6 hours in the snow. I was so proud of my five year old daughter. After my husband and I had both visited the family, she asked to see her friend. She was so scared. I held her up to the hospital bed and we said a Hail Mary together. I was ready to take her out of the hospital room as soon as we finished.

As I started to leave, it was like a dam broke. Maria said "I got a piano for Christmas." My daughter suddenly started talking to her friend about her Christmas presents like they were in our Church Social Hall, instead in a PICU room. She happily chatted about her new Barbie pool and her new pink Furby.

I could see Emma's parents start to relax in a way that hadn't happened during my solo visit. Then this amazing thing happened. Little Emma started moving her tongue, I could tell that she wanted to talk. It was so reassuring. I just thought "Praise God, there is language there!"

Emma's parents talked about Emma's new Malibu Barbie and their hopes that Physical Therapy would lead to Emma taking Swimming Lessons on the Swim Team with my Maria Summer. Emma's Dad asked if Emma could have a "Barbie Pool play date" when they got home. My Maria said "sure."

We walked out of the PICU room holding hands. Once we left the hallway, I made sure that Maria and I said another Hail Mary for her friend.

I looked at my girl like she was an Olympic Athlete. That was insane, right? That a five year old can walk in and pray and chat comfortably with a friend--who to my eyes looked mostly unconscious-- and leave an amazing feeling of encouragement to two parents carrying an amazingly hard cross. My Maria made a hospital visit look easy.

"We're you scared?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "But then I remembered something."
"What?"
"I remembered that she was still my friend, even in that scary doctor place."

*****

Please pray for little Emma. Her parents, James and Maureen and her siblings, Daniel and Amanda.

My Gotcha Day

I've got conflicted feelings about my birthday. I've had really "not good" birthday memories in my past. It makes for some confusion and unease inside of me. Yet I also have this really important memory. On December 31, 1999--I got adopted by the Blessed Virgin Mary. It's my "Gotcha Day."

I'm only starting to understand what it means to be a Spiritual Daughter of Mary. She's an adoptive mother I feel like I don't know very well yet. I sort of flash around her name and I'm stunned at the doors that spring open to me. Saying her name in prayer is like this "passkey" that opens up everything on earth and inside my own clenched and locked down heart.

Thank you, Lynn Rupp for giving birth to me. Thank you, Mary, for watching me over in my hospital crib on the Eve of your Feast Day. Thank you for calling me into my vocation of marriage and into the Catholic Church on my 25 Birthday. Everything good in my life comes out of one single Hail Mary I said to you inside a dark church in Paris.

Emergency Prayer Request

I found out on Facebook that one of my daughter's sweetest friends is in a PICU far from home after getting involved in a car accident on Christmas Eve. Please say a Hail Mary for Emma. Thank you.

Pink - please don't leave me lyrics

So I'm driving down the snowy roads with my kids today. Then I hear this song on the radio for the first time (yeah, I'm a little sheltered)--and I'm just stunned. This is the perfect insight to a Borderline Personality Disorder. "You're my perfect little punching bag." "How did I become this obnoxious? What is it about you that makes me act like this?" "But baby I don't mean it, I promise."

I told my kids, this is not how love acts and you should never date this, let alone marry this!

When you're raised by someone with problems you get this thing called "fleas." They are these little mental health ticks that aren't you--but are bits of learned behavior that can come out in stressful situations. I've got Borderline Fleas and Narcissism ticks. It sucks. Cleaning up ticks and fleas off yourself is unpleasant work.

I've got to say, I'm 100% grateful for the Eucharist. The wisdom from the Holy Font is true. There is no way I would have ever figured out that respect for my husband is paramount--especially whenever I'm feeling unloved, unappreciated, or abandoned. My new mantra is "I can get angry without getting mean."

That's what respect is to me. I'm trying so hard not to be mean. Not to take the cheap shot. No nitpicking, or sighing loudly in another room or rolling my eyes. If there's a problem in my marriage, I need courage to talk about it openly and honestly.

Surprise. When I try my marriage God's way, my husband and I can talk about really deep problems together We can actually come up with solutions--from more romance to getting cheaper heating bills. When I pray to be more respectful--I'm less obnoxious--and more things start changing for the better.

Oh Pink. I love you, woman! I'm praying you into the Catholic Church along with Taylor Swift and few dozen other song writers I'd love to sit in the pew with during Daily Mass.

Taking A Right Hook On the Chin for the Infant Jesus

I read a child-rearing philosophy in the middle of an interesting autobiography that made my heart clench. These are "good people." They inspired a famous movie. They go to church. They "walk the walk." I like them. I'm sure most of my readers do too.

In their own words they talk about their parenting philosophy for toddlers.

"We were very strict: we practiced zero tolerance. If you asked (the Mom) what her parenting style was, she'd say, "Fear and repetition." There was no right or wrong to it--it was just our personal philosophy that strictness at a young age would preempt a lot of problems later.

We believed our children were capable of learning obedience as early as eighteen months. We taught them a few non-negotiable rules as preventative measures....

In our house, we never put anything up out of our kids' reach. We left the Limoges boxes and other knicknacks out. We didn't want to clear all the objects from the coffee tables and hide them from the children. With each child, it took several weeks of constant attention, and we spanked their little hands until they were red, but they learned not to disturb anything in the living room. "*


Reading that last sentence caused me to suck in my breathe. I'm a Mother who has spent many, many years with a toddler under her care. (May the good Lord give me many more.) I can think of three different relatives who flew into uncontrollable rages over my toddler acting curious in their living room. One person lost control in anger when I asked him/her to move a glass bowl to a higher shelf. One person flipped out because I let my toddler play with a plastic apple (not realizing that it had "special meaning" and could be "destroyed" by my nincompoop of a toddler.)

One incident that really stands out is when my 13 month old son figured out how to push the "off" button to a TV during a Redskin football game. My grandfather lost it with me. He became crazy angry. One of the reasons I remember it so clearly is because during his long, violent rant with me about how "out of control"and disrespectful my young son was to him, my grandfather  was holding the TV remote in his hand!

I remember thinking, "You can just push the "on" switch right now with your thumb and this problem is fixed! We don't need to have a 20 minute discussion over what a horrible son I have."

So while I was on the receiving end of this rage for my toddler "badness", I kept thinking that these three different people were making this stuff up in their heads. I mean, you can't discipline a 13 month old kid. You just pick them up after they turn off the TV, and say "Why don't you come play over here Honey."

So when I read this passage in the autobiography I thought, "Oh, this is an actual child rearing philosophy."  What I assumed was just some random pattern made up inside's someone's head--does actually exist in practice in some families.

So here is the deal--I'm not doing this childrearing philosophy.

I'm a Mom and this is not going on in my house.

The reason why this is important, is that I run into this child rearing philosophy all the time at Daily Mass. It's the old people. It's the young people. It's the middle age people. There are all kinds of people that I run into that I'm a horrible Mother because I'm not "spanking my toddlers hands red for weeks" whenever they do something that causes difficulty to some adult.

I'm fed up. I'm not going to feel guilty or conciliatory anymore. I'm going to take that scorn on the chin for my kids, and the kids (Religious Ed & Cub Scouts) that are under my care. I take the scorn, as the adult in charge, so they don't have to absorb it.

Here is the deal. I practice "the middle way." Our church sanctuary is Mary's beautiful parlor. There are precious things that can't be touched such as "The Tabernacle." There are moments of Holy Silence, such as the Consecration during Mass.

My job as a parent is to slowly and carefully teach my children reverence to these Holy Objects and Holy Moments in the Mass. I do not believe this happens within 16 seconds of a child during 18 months old. I'm not a permissive Mother--who lets toddler children run up the aisle for fun during Adoration because "she's a free spirit and doesn't Mommy Mary enjoy it". But I'm not stupidly strict, refusing to ever bring a toddler to Adoration even for 2 minutes because I'm afraid of embarrassing stares from people who are supposed to be experiencing an inner dialogue with Jesus, the Lord or Lords.

The middle way.

There are horribly, horribly anti-child sentiments inside many normal Catholic parishes. There should be no big 'shock' as to why adults don't practice their Faith, because we don't do a great job of nourishing their faith as kids. We either feed them Cotton Candy Theology (all fluff) in Religious Ed--or no kidding--a Religious Ed teach complained to me last year that "kids today are so ill-prepared because 5th graders can't read well enough to pronounce the Old Testament Prophets names right on the first try!" So too loose-goosey sucks. Too strict sucks.

The middle way.

Lord, I'm happy to take scorn on the chin if it means honoring you as the infant Jesus.


****
(footnote: this quote is from "In A Heartbeat: Sharing the Power of Cheerful Giving, by Leigh Anne Tuohy and Sean Tuohy--the couple who adopted an inner-city black teenager and were featured in the great movie "The Blind Side". I'm not trying to rip on the Tuohys. I think they did a great act of Charity. This self-description of their child rearing philosophy is typical of many, many people I see in Catholic church. I'm not trying to change "them." I'm trying to make peace that as a Mother of young toddlers, I'm going to run into this judgement that "your young children are wrong and you are at fault." I'm telling God that I'm making peace with taking that hit inside of church, rather than insisting that my kids be "perfect" before taking them to church.

Today's Lecio Divino for Me

One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, said to him, "There is a girl here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?"

(John 6:10)

Making Peace With Holiday Triggers

This is my first ever affirmative Holiday that I've spent on my own.  In the past 11 years of marriage, my husband and I have spent 2 Holidays "alone"--but both times my parents traveled abroad. So it was more like we were grateful to be left "Home Alone" rather than affirmatively requesting to celebrate Christmas by ourselves in our own home. So this is the first time.

(I turn 38 years old in 4 days. I feel a little behind the curve turning into an independent adult child--but better late than never).

It feels incredible.

I made the call to not quote "report home" for Christmas on December 1. There has been a price to pay for going AWOL in my father's mind. It is a price worth paying.

For the first time, I have such peace about other Christians who struggle with Advent--with overspending, over-scheduling, and under-praying.

I feel like there is so much "judgement" out there among the quote "good Catholics"--about how a prayerful Advent should be spent. But we act like those prayer distractions like "commercialism" just exist in a vacuum.

We don't talk about Holiday Triggers.

The Holidays are hard. The Holidays' are an emotionally rough time for me. This is the first Dec 27, that I'm walking around without a massive case of "the emotional flu". I've never, ever celebrated a birthday before where I was just "chill" about the day. I've always felt anxious and awful and desperately craving the false first aid of outside approval and recognition.

 This year, I think I'm skipping the big birthday party plans. I want to buy myself some fresh flowers and make those cupcakes baked into ice-cream cones.

So if you are recovering from the emotional flu of a Holiday Trigger--you are not alone. You are not being a "sucky Catholic." Jesus has some important words to whisper into your soul, right in the exact place that you are at in the moment. Close your eyes and let Him kiss your heart.

Paper Christmas Toys

We're stretching our Christmas toy budget for our five kids this year by making these lovely paper toys. For $15, I got cardstock at Staples and an exacto knife.

The artist, Joel, is amazing. He has a Paper City, Paper Nativity and a copy of Paris (regular size and a mini-travel size). I'm making Paper City for Alex and Paris for my girls. I'm hoping to add some fine tipped markers in their stockings. Hopefully, this Christmas we will start a new tradition of paper toy fun for hours on Christmas day.

The Prudent Homemaker got me inspired to try paper toys. She has a list of cool ones available. There are also cool doll house things I want to try someday.

Dominic Pio: Another great day!

Dominic Pio: Another great day!: Yesterday was a wonderful day!  Having days like that make you feel lighter than air!  Yesterday Dominc was so calm and peaceful all day, we...

A plea from a Sister of a Parish Priest in Newton, CT

Please consider sending a Christmas card with an encouraging note and assurance of your prayers to a young parish priest at the following address

Father Luke Suarez
46 Church Hill Road
Newtown, CT 06470 
Notes from his Sister

"My brother has said over and over again that without the prayer support he is receiving, he could not keep going. And this week is only the beginning. Everyone there is still in shock. Their peaceful home has been desecrated by violence. They will need to live with this sorrow forever. 

But in our weakness is His strength. Grace abounds. Can you help me carry him through this time of trial? 

On a hopeful note, Father Luke did say that no media coverage has even touched the deep, beautiful awakening of faith that has occurred there. Their tiny church, where my children have received sacraments and where Luke was ordained, has been full of people in prayer without ceasing since this tragedy happened. Love is stronger than death."

Why I Love My Husband

Because he sends me romantic emails from work like this one

Having a good morning. I found out you can add an extra seat to our van! Hello Baby #7!

Love,

Jon

(Note: Not that I'm actually pregnant or have started an adoption, he's just busy thinking about how to keep open an extra seat in our mini-van. Because Loving Catholic Dads are like that--practical and always open to finding room for one more!)

Oh Happy Day!

My brother got engaged last night!