Dandy Day!
/The day began with an announcement from Karoline:
"Mama," said she, her fist full of dandelions for me to put into a tiny pitcher, "we have so many beautiful yellow flowers and the neighbors have none. I'm going to pick them all and scatter them in everyone's yard just like Miss Rumphius. Then, there will be beautiful yellow flowers everywhere."
As luck would have it, Catherine shared a recipe for Dandelion Syrup on Kind Conversation. So, we suggested that Karoline and her sisters and her friends gather the flowers for syrup making purposes.
They spent a glorious couple of hours making their fingers a lovely shade of yellow.
They stirred some "dandelion soup."
They measured until there was enough.
They brought it in to boil and steeped.
We read Miss Rumphius and Dandelions and The Dandelion Seed and Stars in the Grass at bedtime.
The next day, we added sugar and cooked and cooked.
Dandelion Syrup.
Brings sweet tea to a whole new place:-).
When I tucked Katie into bed that night she commented, "Some people call dandelions weeds. Don't they see the flowers? Everyone should have a girl to show her the flowers when all they see are the weeds."
Everyone should.
Daybook from the Coffee Shop
/Outside My Window
Is the parking lot. I am grabbing a few minutes of time to myself at Starbucks. So how about that?
I am Listening to
Jazz and the expresso machine
I'm pondering
"If you have to choose between being right and being kind, always choose to be kind." Immaculee Illibigiza
The more you think about this one, the more there is to think about.
some very sweet emails. I promise to write back, but it might be a few days:-)
From the Kitchen
transitioning the spring menu into summer...grilled maple-dijon glazed pork chops with creamed corn and asparagus were a real hit last week
I am Thinking
about silence and conversation. About boundaries and embraces. About activity and stillness.
I'm having a Kind Conversation about
sweet things to do to let your husband know how much he's loved.
I am Creating
a lifetime of memories with my children. As I approach the twentieth anniversary of being diagnosed with cancer, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the gift of just being here.
On my iPod
Books, not so much. I'm finding that my Kindle reading is not kind to my eyes. I really, really need to give in and go to the eye doctor. My eyes think I'm middle-aged.
Towards a Real Education
I'm finally looking towards next year. The plan is pretty simple and I'm detailing quite a bit in order to create a very big safety net. I think our lives might include some travel so I'm looking to make sure we're portable.
Towards Rhythm and Beauty
I'm working out some new bedtime routines. When I was on bedrest, Mary Beth fell into the habit of putting Katie and Karoline to sleep. The habit continued was Sarah Anne was tiny and then it just became a part of what we do. I'm reclaiming that time with my little girls. They need me. And I need them. And Mary Beth needs some time to herself at the end of the day.
To Live the Liturgy
This week, we are praying the Divine Mercy novena and lulling small children to sleep at night with the chaplet, sung over and over. Still:-)
I am Hoping and Praying
for someone who could be on the brink of things bigger than ever imagined. For grace and strength and wisdom to know His will.
In the Garden
The peonies have shot up. The roses are full of buds. And we had a bumper crop of dandelions (they have a post of their own, tomorrow).
Around the House
I am trying to think creatively as we anticipate Michael's homecoming for the summer. He's going to be interning at USAToday and he'll work in the office and also at home. We're running out of quiet pockets and he's going to need one.
On Keeping Home
Totally re-worked my iCalendars. I was inspired by a thread at Kind Conversation to take another look at Mother's Rule of Life and at my homemaking notebooks. I haven't really had time to sit and gut those notebooks and then make pretty pages, but I am working to being very intentional in everything I do.
One of My Favorite Things
Quiet.
Sarah Annie this week
Oh my goodness! This sweet baby has bloomed with the spring:-)! She still won't walk unless she's got a finger to hold onto, but she's talking up a storm. And if you hold her hand, she kicks a soccer ball, too. She loves, loves, loves chocolate and is having serious withdrawal from Easter candy. I am still in shock that a baby of mine even knows what chocolate is. Some things they say about the baby in big families are true.
A Few Plans for the Rest of the Week
There is a whole lot of soccer in the plan book this week. That means I will be in the car a lot. We're also going to head back to Bull Run (sans bluebells) for springtime nature study. There are some tadpoles that need chronicling, among other things.
And I'm going to sleep. I'm planning naps and early bedtimes. And I'm sticking to the plan.
Picture thoughts:
Karoline loves to twirl. This is her very favorite dress and we have to hide it sometimes just to keep her from wearing it every day.
Through her Eyes: Christmas Gift
/The days from the Solstice to Christmas Eve were among the darkest and coldest of my life. Tears were shed, apologies said. Hard won peace felt fragile. I stumbled into Christmas Eve morning in a typical melancholy fashion. I set about making the customary magic happen, all while feeling like an utter failure at just about everything that mattered. It was not a pretty place to be.
Our plan was to accompany Mike to Midnight Mass at the Basilica. Karoline had chattered all day about the "big church." Earlier this season, we had received a letter from our pastor encouraging us, among other things, to attend Mass at noon on Christmas Day in order to make Christ the center of the Christmas celebration. We've opted for Midnight Mass for several years now and one of the great blessings of that is that it brings the reason for the feast into sharp focus. We are Midnight Mass people. Karoline and Katie talked all day about going to the "big church."
I was exhausted. Sarah Annie has some wicked virus that sounds suspiciously like bronchitis. We're sharing it. My throat is sore. I've slept and eaten very little since that dark settled at the week's beginning. We hosted brunch for 18 people Thursday morning. I caught a quick nap putting Sarah to sleep. At dinner, just an hour before the pilgrimage was to begin, Mike said again that he could just take a few children with him (they'd be just fine while he worked) and I could stay home with the little ones. Michael, looking green around the gills, contemplated staying home as well. Maybe this just wasn't the year to do this big midnight thing.
I waffled. Katie cried. She wanted to go and she wanted me with her. Karoline announced she was going. We went. It is an hour's drive to the church. Mike needed to be there 2 1/2 hours early. Mass was two hours. Then it's an hour home in the wee hours of Christmas morning. This trek is a huge commitment. On the way there, I discussed strategy with Christian. We decided that I'd take the little girls and visit all the small chapels before Mass began, then I'd duck out with Sarah Anne and not even attempt to sit through Mass. He'd keep Karoline under his watchful care. Michael would take care of Katie. Paddy would be in charge of the little boys. I would spend Mass sitting quietly with my baby in the lower church. They would be together upstairs in the pew.
From the minute we arrived, Karoline was stuck to me like tenacious tinsel on tree. We went to the large nativity, where just an hour earlier, her Daddy had climbed inside and tenderly moved Joseph (to get a better shot--but still it touched me somehow that he was worried about Joseph). Been a rough week--doesn't take much to make me cry. At the sight of baby Jesus, Karoline's eyes grew wide. She dropped to her knees.
"Hi, Baby Jesus! It's me. Thank you for all the children in our family. Thank you for making Sarah Annie my little sister. I love you!"
And she was up, leaving the strangers who witnessed the moment with me to wipe their eyes.
It's Christmas.
I decided to try to stay in the upper church for Mass. Karoline wanted to be with me and I wanted her to see the beauty that is Christmas Eve with the Papal Nuncio. She was awed and both little ones were hushed for the candlelit procession. She knew the hymns and sang along. Paddy made sure she didn't catch her hair on fire with the candles. It was a bit stressful. Then the lights came up. And she and Sarah Annie chattered away while they took all the donation envelopes for the rack on the pew and "organized" them. We made it to the Kyrie. And then we walked that very long aisle from our reserved seats in front to the back of the church. Karoline wasn't leaving me for anything. Now I had them both.
We made our way to the crypt church. I knew I'd hear the music and know when to go back upstairs for communion. Slowly, I walked Karoline around the church, stopping at each mosaic to tell her about the saint depicted there. She spent a long time at the nativity, patting the nearby sheep and begging to touch baby Jesus. We saw St. Elizabeth. And St. Anne holding the Blessed Mother with a book to read. We stopped to say a prayer with St. Joseph. Then, we were at the center of the back of the church. "Jesus is here too, Karoline," I whispered, "really here in the Tabernacle."
"In the gold box?" she asked.
I nodded.
She dropped to her knees. I stood in awed amazement.
Thank you Jesus, for Sarah Annie. And especially thank you for giving me to my mommy. I love you, Jesus! Bye bye.
She was off to look at the next mosaic. I was rooted to the spot right there in front of that Tabernacle where the Baby and the King had just touched the tenderest part of my heart and healed the wounds He knew were there.
Yes, thank you Jesus. I love you, too
Little Miss Sunshine
/She hears we're going on an outing and she hurries up to get dressed. On goes a carefully considered T-shirt with a crocheted shrug over it, embroidered jeans, pretty socks and sparkly shoes. She pulls her curls up so that they cascade down the back of her neck. She checks the mirror and scampers into the van. We arrive at our destination just a few minutes later. With the baby on my hip and Nicholas following behind, we follow her into the office. "I'm here," she calls out to the receptionist, "but I'm not sick. Nicky's sick. And maybe Sarah Annie. I'm just visiting."
I think the nurse might burst out laughing, but she manages to stifle it. The receptionist gives in to the giggle. The children are weighed and measured and temperatures checked. The doctor arrives. He asks Karoline how she is and is met with a full report of the last week, including every cake baked, a full accounting of Cox Farms and the hayride, and the happy news of her trip to Red Robin, complete with a rendition of the birthday song. Now we're all smiling from ear to ear.
By the time we leave with $200 worth of prescriptions, it's confirmed that Karoline has an ear infection and a fever, among other things. She gathers her stickers (and a few extras for Katie).
"Good-bye. I'll see you later. Thanks for having me!"
I don't think the sun has ever shone so brightly in that office.
