The Blessing of Limits

I am finding March to be quite difficult to get through. The daffies are out, the crocuses are still holding on we've had a couple days of crazy good weather - so what is wrong with me? We have been sick in one way or another since the beginning of February. It started with the Flu. And since then we've had non-stop colds that have not let go. Turning into ear infections, sinus infections, conjunctivitis. WE ARE SO BEHIND. I had hoped to be almost done with school by this time to give the kids a great Spring, full of roaming freetime to make mud soup and climb trees and catalogue each new bloom in the gardens. When I am behind in my duties I struggle against feelings of worthlessness. I recognize that this is built into my temperament and it will not change. I should not find my worth in what I do but in who I am - who He has made me to be. But this is a struggle for me. In some ways my emotional life is very simple. Lots of visible accomplishment = good girl. Few-no visible accomplishment = bad girl. (BTW, this is not some sort of reflection on how I was raised, at all. OK, mom? It's not you, it's me.)
Here we are, on the 2nd day of Spring and I'm feeling like we are never going to make it to the end. CERTAIN people, who shall remain nameless, might be a bear to teach when certain people are not feeling well. So, it feels like it's just time to pack our bags and go home. Oh wait, we're already home. And here-in lies the problem. I am addicted to homeschooling. It gives my days structure and purpose and when it is all kaflooey like it is right now I get all kaflooey internally too.
But in all this there is good. I am trying to keep this passage from Fr. Tissot's "How to Profit from One's Faults" in mind.
"The limitations we experience in carrying on our external work and internal affairs are very much a part of humility. And humility in it's turn begets and sustains generosity."
So February, and now March this year is not so much Spring as it is the season of embracing my limitations. Well, trying to. It appears that I am limited in this too.

Rosie Today

Anthony hugs Rosie really hard. "Anthony, I love you my brother but you are too hug-idy."

"Do you know who made you that dress?" "Yes, Aunt Reenie! She's a really good uncle."

Practicing her "R" sounds. "W-w-wain. W-w-wocket. W-w-Wabbit. W-w-WOSIE!"

Here comes TROUBLE.

My kids are climbers, every one of them. I had sincere, but misguided, hopes that Cecilia was going to be a horse of a different color. I can hardly claim naiveté at this point, can I? Rosie was our first extreme climber. Recently she has actually mastered scaling the fridge from the front door of the fridge. The front door. Thomas is a master climber in his own right and far more energetic and persistent. He has forced the removal of sweets from four different places in the kitchen as he has been found repeatedly stuffing chocolate into his mouth on all manner of inappropriate occasions.

John and I have noticed that while observing the toddler world you can tell at a glance who is going to give you a run for your money and who you are safe to leave unattended for hours on end 2-3 minutes. The bad climber starts his ascendency by placing one leg atop a chair and pulling up with his arms. This is a child who is not going anywhere. Perhaps he’ll someday conquer the dining room table, but he better dream low because true heights are unattainable to him. The toddler who really has a future in harassing his parents knows that his legs are practically negligible in the equation and the arms play only a supporting role. It’s in his head that the real power lies – his disproportionally large cranium. “It’s like Sputnik!” He simply walks up to the first tier object (take the stool in the above picture as an example), places his arms on it and lowers his head. The body follows as a matter of course. Repeat the scenario several times and lo and behold, you have once again come upon Mommy’s secret store of Godiva.

CeCe has quite a large head. Sigh.

Happy day of 1st color!

 

 

                

 

 

                                    

 

 

                 

Bedtime Mathematics

Cecilia:
150 rocks in rocking chair
- 1 failed attempt at laying her down
+ 250 rocks in rocking chair to calm her back down
= 400 rocks

Rosemary:
1 Mary had a Little lamb
3 Old McDonald animals
1 Night-time prayer
+ 1 rushed Salve Regina
= 6 total verses

Thomas:
4 escapes from crib
1 pacifier (unless he’s hiding some in the crib)
1 cube of ice (?)
3 “eiei –o’s”
1 stick of string cheese (bribe much?)
= 10 unreasonable requests

Anthony:
1 game of “Dweebies”
1 Just So Story
2 Spring-themed books
+1 Night-time prayer
- 1 skipped Salve Regina
= 5 very time-consuming activities

Cecilia
Rosemary
Thomas
Anthony
+Bedtime
= One more night of bedtime in the Love Shack and the reason that Alexis watches TV all night and never blogs.

The Flu: Weeks 2 and 3

So things have been winding down here with The Illness. One by one the troops began to revive, the fevers lifted (with Cecilia’s squeezing every last bit out) and then we settled into the cough-that-portends-death and the snotty-nose-that-portends-the-snot-covered-shoulder. So here we were - all energized and wanting to explode out of the house but knowing that we sound like the Band of Death coming to infect the masses. We stayed home another few days. Doing…

 

 

Lots and lots of dressup.

“C’mon, Thomas. We can be ladies.”

“OK Rosie!”

 

 

 

Flying a dragon kite.
Having tea…with the queen.

Generally taking out our energies on Mom. Yes that is four sticks of butter on my coffee table.

We began our foray into polite society at the Saturday night Vigil Mass. Which was packed. So we had to sit in the front. BAD NEWS. CeCe and Thomas just couldn’t contain their enthusiasm at seeing people other then the 6 of us and there was a slightly unsavory character taking up the crynook/room so we just did our best to stay cool under pressure and fed CeCe as many pamphlets as she could handle. Thomas we just…I honestly don’t remember. It wasn’t good though so I guess I just blocked it out. Sometimes I thank God that I have no braincells left.
Sunday we were led astray by ambitious weather-men who wanted to promised lovely Spring-like weather. We travelled an hour and half to a beautiful national park only to play for 10 minutes in a subdivision playground and decide that it was way too cold. Luckily we came up with a plan to meet some great friends at the Air and Space Museum. So the day was saved after all.

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Valentine’s made it in there too with a pretty amazing dinner and dessert prepared at home AFTER the kiddos were in bed

 

 

We’ve been bopping along all blissfully healthy since Sunday and I have repeatedly said that it’s truly amazing how much more productive the family can be when our bodies are on our side. We went from working at about 85% efficiency before the flu to – no joke – about 7% efficiency during it. Monday and Tuesday we were climbing our way back up and I’d say we were approaching 80% when BAM! The flu got it’s last word in (please, please be the last word). We’ve got a couple double ear infection patients bringing us down to about 50%. Darn kids. Don’t they know we’ve got a family to run? A home to keep? Memories to make?

Ten days of antibiotics and all the lovely benefits to the digestion that it will bring will bring us up to a total of 4 flu-ridden weeks. But this is the last woe-is-me post that I will share about it. Unless of course (and the likelihood of this happening is quite high) that we get a story out of it worthy of the title, Poop Chronicles. Only time will tell.

Happy Valentine's Day

Two undergrads from the Mount interviewed us for a vocations website that they put together and not much else could mark Valentine's Day in a better way for us. The rest of the videos are just as well done so please take the time to watch the ones on priesthood and religious life - Sr. Liz had me in tear. So did my bizarro hair and lack of makeup but it's all for the kingdom, I suppose.