Tips/Tricks Needed

Just a quick plea for advice/tips/tricks today:

How on earth does anyone ever manage to be on time for anything, anywhere, with a baby (or more than one) in tow?  I used to pride myself on punctuality, but pride goeth before a fall, and now I just seem to be perpetually late for everything.  It doesn't seem to matter how much time I allot to prepare and get out the door, it is never enough... It is one thing (and hard enough) to go with LW's free flowing schedule during our days at home, but how to make it work when we are faced with the clock-watching outside world?

I was to have lunch with a good friend today who I haven't gotten to see since Mother's day, and yet the combination of a late nap, and a whole lot of parking troubles cut our time in half (sorry, Kate!).  It was the proverbial straw... I want to learn to be on time again... but I just haven't figured out how to do it with all the inevitable wrenches that a baby can throw in the mix.  It's why one of the few consistent meetings I've gone to in the last year is LLL, where everything happens on baby time, and no one minds if you are a few minutes, or far more than a few minutes, late.  So what about all of you with very little ones?  How do you manage the problem of time?

Blog silence

I'm not meaning to be on hiatus at the moment, just have about six too many irons in the proverbial fire.  My husband's twin brother's wedding is next weekend (for which I am, as mentioned before, making the cake).  I also, after a fruitless attempt to find a dress to wear to the wedding locally, decided I would just make a dress to wear...  I hadn't done any sewing projects since LW was born, and let me tell you: this one reminded me all over again why I haven't!

But, I have it nearly done, just need to do some hand sewing details to finish it, and do the hem.  I really like it - I found this reallly pretty embroidered linen on the bargain rack (ok, it was still $7/a yard, but that was half off what it usually is), in this pretty light blue, and also found a darker blue/teal shawl to wear as a wrap to Mass, since the dress itself has spaghetti straps.  My husband has been a champ, watching LW and taking her for walks and such so that I could get the majority of it done; now I will be retiring the sewing machine again for awhile (actually, probably not for too long, as I saved enough of the material to make a little something for LW herself).  I love these sorts of projects - after they are done, that is!

I'm also trying to make some real world time to catch up with a few friends, and spend some summer evenings with husband and daughter.  The summer has totally gotten away from me; I can't believe that it is nearly August already!

On which subject - our second wedding anniversary is next week.  I simply cannot believe that we've been married for two years already.  The time truly has flown, and I am happy to say that our bond continues to deepen, and we definitely (or at least I believe we do) understand each other a lot better now than two years ago. 

The garden, like the rest of my life, is growing out of control; LW is teething (great, more teeth to develop cavities); life is just busy, busy, busy.  Today, at the end of a long, hot, sweaty, sticky, cranky-baby day, I actually momentarily longed for winter - for hot cocoa at the start of the day, for the cozy comforts of hunkering down at home to wait out a snowstorm, and the much more quiet, methodical pace of life that comes with shorter daylight and reduced ability or desire to go anywhere.  But then I snapped back to reality, because I hate winter. 

In other news - I'm finally taking a week's vacation the second week in August, and I cannot wait for that time off.  Since I work only part time from home, I no longer receive paid vacation or paid days off, so I have to put in extra time in advance in order to take any time off; thus days off are extra precious, and this will be the first real vacation that I've had in a year, since I went back to work after LW was born.  I haven't taken more than two days off in a row in the last year, and essentially every time I did that, we were traveling somewhere for a holiday, so this should be a real treat.

Anyway, I know this post has little or no real substance to it - just a quick explanation of things being so quiet here!  In reality, quiet in the blogosphere equates to insanely busy in the "real" world.  But never fear - in a few weeks or so, once fall really settles in, I'm sure I'll have more than enough to say (not that I don't now!), and more importantly, time enough to say it.

God bless, now get outside and enjoy the quickly speeding summer!

"The hurrier I go.."

Growing up, my Grammy who lived right around the corner had a cute little wrought iron plaque on her wall that read, "The hurrier I go, the behinder I get."  I didn't understand it, when I was young (and not just the strange grammar) - it seemed to me that she could have hurried up just a bit because she was often late to things, whereas my family was pretty much always on time.

Now, though, I find myself quoting that plaque to myself on a daily basis.  Most days it feels like there is too much to do to get it all done in one day; probably because there really is too much to do.  Wash and hang laundry, wash and hang diapers, three hours of actual (company) work, nurse, change, bathe, make dinner, clean house, and then wash, rinse, and repeat all over again the next day.  It reminds me of a list of homemaker tasks that I saw in a book once, which was about a page long and ended with something like "and forebear before you drop dead counting the stars." 

I don't mean to sound like I am complaining, because I really love my life, and I've never been happier with any work that I've ever done.  I love watching my little girl grow, and love the cycles and patterns of daily life.  I do sometimes wonder how anyone else manages to get so much more done than me (how do all these homemaking moms have time to sew, knit, read, go to daily Mass, etc?!  Do they just sleep less than me, because they seem to be finding more hours in the day!) but mostly I am content with my life. What I am realizing though is that I need to stop "hurrying" through the day so much; that I actually stay on top of most everything much better if, paradoxically, I accept from the beginning of the day that not everything will get done.  The day goes by much better if I accept the road blocks and distractions that inevitably occur; perhaps the best description is that I am learning to move through the day like flowing water, rather than trying to bash through it all like a battering ram.  The flowing water approach allows me to drop everything to read my daughter a book, or to enjoy a lunch out with a friend, regardless of whether my work is done for the day and the house is all clean; it will get done in time.  The battering ram approach insists that everything must happen in an orderly and sequential fashion, and no moving on to the next task until the first one is done.  It is a tactic that worked well in my pre-baby days (such discipline brought me great grades in college), and suits my personality, but it just doesn't bring about holiness, contentment, or peace in the home during my present season of life.

So my grandmother must have been on to something.  I am learning to "putter" like her - do my tasks in fits and starts, and trying to learn the fine art of flexibility.  Of course, as a result things like blogging are often on the back burner to all the other absolutely essential items on the to do list!

In other news, I have a newly toddling munchkin who just woke up, so I must drop the writing to run after her :)

You know your brain is on overload when...

You change your one year old, leaving her bare to air out for a bit, but then completely forget to put her diaper back on.  Instead, ten minutes later, you blithely snap up her outfit, bundle her into the car for a grocery trip, and don't even notice until you are back home and your husband points out, "why is the baby all wet?"

To LW's everlasting credit, she managed to hold it for some two hours until we were home and not in public anymore. 

Really - I shudder to think of the awful sort of mess (literal, not figurative mess) that could have happened.  And the embarrassment.  And the accompanying need to never shop at the conveniently located store again.

I knew this sort of thing (not this exact thing, but this genre of things) went along with the territory of having kids.  I just figured it would be some 4 or 5 kids down the road when I started to lose it, not on my first... the first is supposed to be the one that you keep immaculate records about, and keep meticulous care of, and would never, ever forget to put a diaper on.

Heaven help me once I do have that 4th or 5th child...

My weekend project:

In a classically Abby move, I volunteered awhile back to make my brother-in-law and soon-to-be sister-in-law's wedding cake (they are getting married four weeks from now!).  I have to admit, the mental vision of myself, cutely aproned and wielding a decorator's bag, is always so much more enticing than actually rolling up my sleeves to make the vision a reality.  It is too easy to forget what cake decorating in July or August really means (sweat, weeping icing, more sweat, decorations melting into nondescript blobs, did I mention sweat?) when the generous impulse strikes in February.  To be clear, I really am looking forward to this project - it should be fun, a challenge, and a really good experience to have under my belt.  At the same time, I really want their cake to turn out well, and let's face it, a wedding cake is a Pretty Big Deal, so this weekend I did a trial run of what I'm planning to do.  Of course, this trial run had to be relatively miniature, since the actual cake will feed some 116 people, and I do not need a cake in my house designed for that many people - my willpower regarding sweets is poor enough as it is.  So, I made a tiny 6" topped with a 4" tiered version; the real thing will be 6" and 10" and 14".

Anyway, here's how it turned out (keep in mind that I only took an hour to do this, and will take far more time with the real thing, smoothing and leveling and getting everything just so):

They wanted something quite minimal, with real ribbon at the bases of the tiers, a simple decorated border, and real flowers on top (no, those are not real flowers, just an imitation sprig to get the idea, but the real thing will have a flower dome done by the florist).  For a trial run, I have to say it turned out pretty ok!  I did a Nutella filling for the top layer, and raspberry jam on the bottom; the real thing will have a layer with lemon curd as well.

I learned:

• The ribbon needs to go on after the frosting has set, not while it is still sticky, otherwise it soaks up butter from the frosting and discolors.
• I'm going to buy the little perfectly round candy balls to do the border (probably on top of piped icing) because I had a hard time not getting little peaky points on the round dots.  If I place them with tweezers, it'll actually be easier and I think will look pretty classy.
• Everything needs to be really level and all the icing needs to be as smooth as possible (and evenly spread as possible), because it will really show up in the pictures otherwise.
• Also, my nice 6 inch pan sticks like crazy, so I may need to have an extra box or two of cake mix around in case of disasters.  I also plan to do the baking on thursday and the decorating on friday so there is plenty of time to recover if something does go wrong.

The soon-to-be bride and groom were pleased, anyway, so I think I'm on the right track... still, prayers for success are much appreciated (and any tips, as well)!

Finding the Fullness of the Faith

A few days ago, I promised that I would one day soon share the story of how I became Catholic.  I should forewarn you all that it isn't really an "exciting" conversion story - I didn't find God in the midst of drugs, rock n' roll, or any other scandalous activity, just grew up Christian and found God more and more along the way... but I hope that the following inspires and gives glory to Him who calls us all by name.

I was born and baptized into the Congregational church, under the guidance of two loving, Christ-like, God-fearing parents.  We went through brief stints of going to other churches (mainly a Baptist sort of one) but mostly I grew up within the relatively liturgical UCC.  This was mostly prior to when the UCC went noticeably nuts with the whole inclusive language, ordaining women, sort of thing... though I'm sure my parents could see such coming.  I didn't; I just knew it as the church that we went to, that my grandparents went to, and even when I sometimes didn't want to go to church on Sundays, I knew it was something that we did every week as a family, non-negotiably.  Of course, it didn't hurt that my dad woke us up every Sunday morning to breakfast in bed (usually donuts from the local bakery!).  I remember attending Sunday school as a young child, loved singing songs, making friends, and learning about Jesus; I also remember being told at the Baptist-ish church that I needed to accept Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior, or else I would go to hell (I think I was all of 5 or 6 when that happened).  Strangely, at that age, I sort of agonized over the decision - it was of huge import to my young self, but I remember finally deciding that I didn't want to go to hell, and saying in my head, "I accept you..." etc.  I didn't really understand how that little act made all the difference, but I did feel peace afterwards.

As I grew, I became more involved in the Congregational church; my best friend and I sang in the choir, I went through the Confirmation class taught by my dad; attended various "ecumenical" events with the local Methodist and Catholic churches, but had no inkling that I would ever be anything but what I was. Not that I saw other church as non-Christian; I just didn't see any reason to go anywhere else.  At the same time, I do remember noting one fact from the Confirmation class: my dad showed us a drawing of a tree with many branches, all labeled different denominations of the faith, with the dates when they had all divided from the "trunk".  I remember noticing that the "trunk" was the Catholic church, and sort of wondering why all these denominations were necessary, but I didn't explore the question much further.

At the same time, my older brother and I were being home schooled by our parents (K-12, as a matter of fact).  It was homeschooling that actually changed everything - more specifically, a Bob Jones University Press history textbook.  My mom, being the good ecumenical Congregationalist that she was, was rather appalled at how anti-Catholic the textbook she was using for my brother's history of the middle ages, etc, was.  So she decided, quite innocently, to supplement the curriculum that year with the writings of the early Church Fathers.  Of course, as many who have started down the same path know, you cannot read those Fathers too carefully without endangering your Protestantism!  So she and my brother read more and more, and slowly dialogues began happening within our house, books on tape and books in print with debates about Catholicism, and then books like Scott Hahn's Rome Sweet Home.  She and my brother attended the Episcopalian Easter Vigil, came home smelling like incense and describing the liturgy in glowing terms; meanwhile, I remained relatively untouched and unimpressed.

Regardless of my outer attitude, the seeds were slowly growing within.  From the time I was very small, I naively held the belief that the communion that we were given once a month (even prior to when I was taking communion, I believed this) was actually Jesus.  Not just in a vague metaphorical sense, but that it was actually His body and blood (I'm not sure if I believed that His soul was present there, too, but I though it was actual flesh and blood, just "veiled").  After all, the ushers said "the body of Christ" and "the blood of Christ" as they handed it out, and I was very literally minded.  I also was fascinated with the idea of worship, of sacrifice, and before I began taking communion, I would pray on those Sundays, after church, that the bread and grape juice I drank would literally "be" Jesus for me; sometimes I would even go up to our attic, put those elements in a little wooden box with some burning incense and cover it up with a towel, praying before taking it out.  I'm not sure where I got those ideas - possibly from the Bible, possibly from some of the historical fiction my mother had read to use (such as Stephen Lawhead's Arthurian Chronicles, or Glastonbury, whose author I have forgotten).  Regardless, a belief in the real presence was there, long before I had actually seen that Presence in person.

Time went by, and before long, my mom decided she was ready to convert.  My response wasn't particularly positive - something along the lines of "fine, but don't expect me to go with you."  I'm not sure where my antagonism came from - maybe my inherent hatred of transitions and change, or maybe I sensed the waves of conflict that this would send through staunchly Protestant extended family (there really is nary a Catholic to be seen on either side, until you go back many generations, or into the second cousins and "once or twice removeds").  Regardless, I was happy to stay where I was, go to church with my dad, not leave the place I'd grown up attending.

I'm not sure when my attitude softened.  Lots of changes were taking place at the same time; the best friend that I had at the church and I began to grow apart, as she went off to a high school full of boys and dances and popularity, and I continued on the homeschool trajectory.  I do know that at some point (either before or after I stumbled on my mom's rosary and secretly prayed it, just to see what all this Catholic stuff was all about... I didn't really get it then, viewing it as some sort of magical prayer device, but I understand using it to meditated on Scripture a lot better now) I decided I would go to Mass with her one time.  I didn't expect it to change anything - I was a bit curious, and a bit feeling like I "should try and see" just to be fair.  Little did I know that that one time would change the whole direction of my life (and likely determine the man that I would eventually marry!)

That day, I met Jesus in the Eucharist.  There was a presence in the church that I had never felt anywhere else - a presence of peace, of love, of calming, and more importantly, a presence that I could feel was personal.  I knew it wasn't going to be easy, that there would be opposition, but that I wanted to keep going to that church where His Presence was, for the rest of my life.

I began attending RCIA that fall, and was received into the church at Easter Vigil of the following year, shortly before my 16th birthday.

Since then, everywhere I've traveled, and everywhere I've lived, I've never walked into a Catholic church and not felt His presence.  I have, however, walked into several Protestant churches and been shocked at the emptiness that I never felt before.  Don't get me wrong - these churches are full of joy, of witness, of song and praise - but there is still something missing, something still and small, and a place inside my heart that fills every time I see that tiny, flickering sanctuary light.

In the last 13 years, I've learned a lot about our Faith that I didn't know in the beginning.  I've learned a lot about myself, too, as the Sacraments have pushed me to grow.  In the same church where I made my profession of faith and received the Sacrament of Confirmation, my husband and I stood to be married, 12 years later; now we have a daughter to raise in the Faith, and hopefully more children to come.  I'm so glad to be Catholic, to have the Sacrament of Reconciliation, to receive the Eucharist, to worship every week at Mass!  There are many things I miss about being Protestant, still; I have yet to find a Catholic church where the music is as good, where the people are as friendly, where reading the Bible is expected and where living certain aspects of Christianity is just taken for granted.  Jesus wasn't joking when He talked about the wheat and the chaff within the Church!  However, all of these things are superficial next to the richness that is present.

I wouldn't change one step of the process, and am very grateful to see the Church through the eyes of conversion (though truthfully, every Christian sees the Faith through the eyes of conversion - we all stand in need of converting more and more every day, and I believe that basically everyone who passionately seeks after Christ could in some way classify as either "convert" or "revert" at work).  More than that, I am profoundly thankful to Jesus for revealing Himself in the Eucharist - for calling to my heart in such a way that I could hear.  Blessed be His Name!

Another good verse for today...

This time, reminded by L'Engle, from two of my favorites of her novels - A Small Rain and A Severed Wasp -

"We also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope.  Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." - Romans 5:3-5

The rain has finally arrived to take away the heat aside.  After the scorching weather, it sounds a lot like liquid hope :)

To meditate on, today..

This week has been a tough one, and I'm finding that it's really easy, when life throws you lemons, to get really caught up in lemon juice, and to not be able to see anything through the stinging in the eyes.  Between concerns over the best way to handle LW's teeth situation/possible night weaning, and also how to afford that and a variety of other $$ concerns coming down the line, I have not been the most pleasant person this week.  I get so wrapped up running mental circles in search of answers, and get really grumpy/bitter/frustrated when I can't see any solution.  So this is what I am meditating on today - and trying to leave it all in God's hands...

'Then Jesus said to his disciples: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? "Consider how the lilies grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well." Luke 12:22-34

Hope this speaks to you all, today, too.  It really is true - as I've found in the past, He knows our needs, and His grace (and provision) is sufficient for each moment.  Like the manna in the desert, though, He doesn't always give us the grace for the next moment, until it has actually arrived.  The promise is that He'll provide, when we need it; since we're not actually there yet, or needing it yet, why should I be surprised that the provision hasn't appeared yet?

Trusting for each moment... now off to find some iced coffee and beat this heat.

Ups, Downs, and All Arounds..

My apologies for being so "quiet" lately.  Life has been crazy - sometimes crazy good, sometimes crazy bad, and it's been hard to find a moment to do laundry (hence three loads are sitting on my basement floor) much less sit down to construct a coherent post.

First, the "down":  I had to take my 13 month old to the dentist yesterday.  Jim and I used to joke years ago that if we ever got married, our kids would be doomed - we both had so many problems with cavities and such - and evidently (dentally?) it's not so much of a joke when it actually happens. LW has two cavities behind her front middle teeth, and now it's a race to try and find a second opinion as far as what to do about them.  Dentist #1 was brusque, uninformative, performed a sealing procedure without asking or explaining first, and is insisting that we night wean (and preferably stop feeding on demand in the daytime as well).  Of course, as I know from previous experience, dentists really would be most happy if they could get all their patients to be fed via stomach tube and never have anything touch their teeth...  Anyway, that is the current crisis of our days.  I really don't want to night wean her yet, as she's still nursing 3-4 times a night, receives quite a lot of calories that way, and it gets us all the maximum amount of shut-eye.  SO.. prayers, please, for healing and also for us to find a decent dentist who is willing to work with the whole baby, not just focusing exclusively on her teeth (side note - this has been a bad year for this particular topic; we had to shell $2500 out of pocket in March when Jim had a dental abscess, so this came as a particularly annoying blow).

The literal "up": LW is standing up on her own (as in, in the middle of the floor, without anything to pull up on), and taking a few steps from there!  Her toddle-waddle is one of the cutest things I've ever seen.  She is pushing "further up and further in," in the form of climbing everything (chairs, couches, people) in sight.  She's also beginning to master more words (like "bath"), and every day becomes more like a little toddler-person rather than a baby.

Also literally "up": the garden is entering into its full glory:

  We recently harvested the first of the tomatoes and peas:

They are *super* tasty.  I had forgotten how good a cherry tomato or snap pea straight off the vine can taste.  My buds have gotten used to the bland store bought stuff.

The peas are actually kind of funny, because when we left for 4th of July weekend, there was one bud about to bloom; when we returned, the whole tops of the bushes were covered, and the next morning, there were full pea pods waiting to be harvested.

This might, of course, have something to do with the "all around": the all encompassing heat wave we've been experiencing.  Remember this post?  It's even hotter than that now, and ridiculously high humidity levels as well.  Yesterday, I gave in, and let Jim put the AC in the bedroom window (being mistress of frugality, it has to be seriously hot for me to allow the use of the AC).  It was worth it, though, for the three of us to actually get a good night's sleep.

In one other piece of "all around" news - our BG's are working great!  She hasn't been any redder than she ever was in the disposables in weeks, and we've got a good wash/dry routine down.  The only problem is that with this hot weather, she's been running around in her diaper, and has now figured out how to open the Velcro tabs.  I'm super excited about not spending all that $$ on the disposables anymore (although, technically, it'll take 6+ months to recoup the investment in the BG's).  We're still using one sposie at night - any suggestions for good overnight solutions?  She might be OK overnight, I just haven't dared risk it yet.  That being said, she pretty routinely leaks out of the disposable at night anyway...

Oh, and the other "up" piece of news: we're looking at a house that we actually really like, which might even be in our price range!  5.5 acres of a land, an older farmhouse that needs some renovations but would be livable until we were able to do so, and only about 30 min from where Jim works (not ideal, but better than it could be).  God willing, we're hoping to move on to the house inspector step, after taking one more look at it.

Now... time for that laundry :)