Some background to a funny story: John often talks about having things in his "car." One of my favorites is that every time he sees a bee he says, "Don't worry, I have a bee suit in my car." Or if he breaks something, he comments that, "It's okay, I have some tools in my car."
This morning he was playing with a flashlight and I caught him pressing it up against his eye socket, shining the light in his eyeball.
Mama: "No, honey, don't shine the flashlight in your eyes."
John: "It's okay Mama."
Mama: "No, it's not okay. If you shine it in your eyes again, I'm going to take it away."
John: "It only hurts a little. It's okay."
Mama: "No, it's not okay. Shining a flashlight in your eyes damages your eyesight."
John: "I can get new sight."
Mama: "No, you can't just get new sight."
John: "Don't worry, I have new sight in my car!"
Traditional Catholic living in the modern world
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Equestrian Center
In anticipation of the kids and I going to California for two weeks while Daddy stays behind to stalwartly provide for us, we wanted to have a Family Fun Day today.
After Mass, we came home, ate breakfast, changed clothes, and the kids drew chalk while we loaded the car with a picnic.
John fell asleep on the way and Mary tried to poke him awake.
Horses! Just last weekend, Chris had taken the kids out for a drive and discovered the Latta Equestrian Center. They had so much fun that they took me back to visit it today.
John dressed appropriately as a cowboy.
Entrance to the Equestrian Center is free, so all we paid for was a pony ride for the kids: John's second, Mary's first.
John was a pro!
I thought his cowboy boots (hand-me-downs from cousin Ryan) in the stirrups were so endearing.
When we placed Mary on her horse, our normally gung-ho, climb anywhere, do anything girl burst into shrieking tears and couldn't be calmed for several minutes in my arms. Chris and I had a suspicion (knowing our girl), so we suggested that maybe she wanted to ride the pony John had been riding instead. But really what we suspect is that she was very afraid of the man who was going to be walking her pony and would do better with the young, small teenage girl walking John's pony. Once she was on John's pony with the girl, Mary really enjoyed herself.
The heat and humidity were sweltering, so we walked back to our van through whatever shade we could find while the kids rehydrated.
We drove a mile down the road past Latta Plantation, the Raptor Center, and the Nature Center to the Nature Preserve! We'd never been there before, and we quite enjoyed the taxpayer-paid park and picnic grounds alongside a lake active with boats.
The rest of the day was enjoyably spent napping, watching a family-friendly movie, eating dinner at home, and having dessert of ice cream (kids) and strawberries (parents). Tomorrow begins the work of planning and packing for our trip!
After Mass, we came home, ate breakfast, changed clothes, and the kids drew chalk while we loaded the car with a picnic.
John fell asleep on the way and Mary tried to poke him awake.
Horses! Just last weekend, Chris had taken the kids out for a drive and discovered the Latta Equestrian Center. They had so much fun that they took me back to visit it today.
John dressed appropriately as a cowboy.
Entrance to the Equestrian Center is free, so all we paid for was a pony ride for the kids: John's second, Mary's first.
John was a pro!
I thought his cowboy boots (hand-me-downs from cousin Ryan) in the stirrups were so endearing.
When we placed Mary on her horse, our normally gung-ho, climb anywhere, do anything girl burst into shrieking tears and couldn't be calmed for several minutes in my arms. Chris and I had a suspicion (knowing our girl), so we suggested that maybe she wanted to ride the pony John had been riding instead. But really what we suspect is that she was very afraid of the man who was going to be walking her pony and would do better with the young, small teenage girl walking John's pony. Once she was on John's pony with the girl, Mary really enjoyed herself.
The heat and humidity were sweltering, so we walked back to our van through whatever shade we could find while the kids rehydrated.
We drove a mile down the road past Latta Plantation, the Raptor Center, and the Nature Center to the Nature Preserve! We'd never been there before, and we quite enjoyed the taxpayer-paid park and picnic grounds alongside a lake active with boats.
The rest of the day was enjoyably spent napping, watching a family-friendly movie, eating dinner at home, and having dessert of ice cream (kids) and strawberries (parents). Tomorrow begins the work of planning and packing for our trip!Identification
Chris bought a new wallet this week and thought John would appreciate receiving Chris' old black leather wallet as a gift, now a toy to play with. John loves being a Big Boy With a Wallet, so Chris made him his very own identification. (Above, Chris blacked out the personally identifying information for purposes of this blog.)Friday, May 28, 2010
We Don't Need New Toys Today
Today I earned nearly an 'F' grade in motherhood due to my lack of patience. I don't tend to post on the blog about my uglier moments. On the bright side, instead of making broad pronouncements today about The Way Things Are and The Way Things Are Going To Be From Now On! (like I usually do on bad days), I realized within a couple of hours that this was going to be "one of those days." I said to myself, "This is going to be One of Those Days and, by the end of the day it will be over, even if it gets really stinky in the meantime."
Anyway, amidst all of my failures as a mother today, John and I had a nice moment that made me feel good. We had gone shopping at Target and I decided to try to buy a few toys for our airplane ride to California next week, using some gift money my parents-in-law had given the children for that purpose. I explained to John that we'd be looking through the toy aisles (which normally we do not do), that we'd be looking with our eyes, not touching with our hands, and I told him the parameters for the kinds of toys I was looking for (small enough to fit in our carry-on, quiet, not delicate, and something we don't already have).
We then walked up and down six toy aisles. John didn't grab. He did eagerly point out different toys to me, which we'd then analyze. That was too big, that was too loud, we have that thing already, and that thing is like a monster and Mama doesn't like monsters. So on and so forth and we got through six aisles of toys finding nothing that was suitable for the airplane, not even the Doodle Pads I was looking for.
I thought surely John would be very upset. I'd told him we were going to buy toys and now I was telling him that I didn't find anything that met our criteria. He said something like, "I have an idea! Why don't we just take some toys we already have?" He sounded so sincere about it. I replied, "That is a good idea!" Then he explained, "Yes, we'll take some toys we already have. How is that for a deal?" I said it was a good deal indeed. He reiterated, "Because the rule is that we don't buy a toy if we already have a toy." Then in loquacious three-year-old fashion (does the child ever stop talking?), he went on and on about the rules, how we already have toys, we don't just buy more, that would be so silly.
Don't get me wrong, John expresses childish avarice at times, but it was so lovely to hear some wholesome sentiment shine through.
Anyway, amidst all of my failures as a mother today, John and I had a nice moment that made me feel good. We had gone shopping at Target and I decided to try to buy a few toys for our airplane ride to California next week, using some gift money my parents-in-law had given the children for that purpose. I explained to John that we'd be looking through the toy aisles (which normally we do not do), that we'd be looking with our eyes, not touching with our hands, and I told him the parameters for the kinds of toys I was looking for (small enough to fit in our carry-on, quiet, not delicate, and something we don't already have).
We then walked up and down six toy aisles. John didn't grab. He did eagerly point out different toys to me, which we'd then analyze. That was too big, that was too loud, we have that thing already, and that thing is like a monster and Mama doesn't like monsters. So on and so forth and we got through six aisles of toys finding nothing that was suitable for the airplane, not even the Doodle Pads I was looking for.
I thought surely John would be very upset. I'd told him we were going to buy toys and now I was telling him that I didn't find anything that met our criteria. He said something like, "I have an idea! Why don't we just take some toys we already have?" He sounded so sincere about it. I replied, "That is a good idea!" Then he explained, "Yes, we'll take some toys we already have. How is that for a deal?" I said it was a good deal indeed. He reiterated, "Because the rule is that we don't buy a toy if we already have a toy." Then in loquacious three-year-old fashion (does the child ever stop talking?), he went on and on about the rules, how we already have toys, we don't just buy more, that would be so silly.
Don't get me wrong, John expresses childish avarice at times, but it was so lovely to hear some wholesome sentiment shine through.
You Know You're a Parent When
You know you're a parent when you and your husband spell out words you don't want the kids to hear . . . even though the kids are asleep in their rooms, nowhere within earshot.
Vegetable Garden 2010
I have such fond memories of my father's vegetable garden when I was a child. I remember how he planted a fruit tree every year on my birthday. I remember him taking photos of me next to the ever-growing corn stalks throughout the season, to see how they grew from my kneecaps to towering above my head. I recall standing in the garden and eating cherry and pear tomatoes off the vine, hot from the sun. And the boiled beets were so delicious when I had just helped Dad dig them out of the dirt an hour earlier. I even remember my chagrin when Dad caught me digging up his rhubarb plant, which I had thought was a pretty red weed.
Our landscaping in this home is beautiful--in large part due to the professional landscape architect hired by the prior home owners--but I've regretted time and again that our heavily shaded lot can't support growing vegetable or fruit. In the spring we had cut down about eight tall trees, so it occurred to me recently that we just might have enough hours of sun in one corner of the yard to grow some vegetables.
I am a hopeless romantic in my dream that our children will get to witness how vegetables grow!
This is the area at the top of our driveway (with the garage to the right). There are previously existing pink shrub roses and this season I planted some white sweet alyssum because I love the scent. Now I have added a Lantana Camara ('Red Spread') in the upper left, below the bird house, because Lantana attracts hummingbirds and butterflies.
A close-up of the Lantana, which can grow two to three feet high
This view of the sunny corner is from inside the fence at the top of the driveway. To the left are camellias and in the far right corner are some shrubs whose name I don't know and one red rose bush.
I spent several days preparing the soil with shovel, pick axe, amenders, and fertilizer, although never did prepare it as beautifully as it deserved. Our soil is nearly hard as a rock, plus is filled with a network of thick roots (think of all those trees we had cut down!) and veins of some kind of white granite. Also, the developer used this corner of the yard to cheaply dump (hide) his excess bricks and black stones.
The planted garden!
From a different angle
This is the planted garden after I watered it and laid down some hardwood mulch I had on hand.
Clockwise you see a sweet pepper (flavorburst hybrid), a coral bell (flower that had already been planted there), basil, a raspberry (Rubus idaeus 'Canby Red') that I hope will grow along the fence, a Sweet 100 cherry tomato, and another basil.
Our landscaping in this home is beautiful--in large part due to the professional landscape architect hired by the prior home owners--but I've regretted time and again that our heavily shaded lot can't support growing vegetable or fruit. In the spring we had cut down about eight tall trees, so it occurred to me recently that we just might have enough hours of sun in one corner of the yard to grow some vegetables.
I am a hopeless romantic in my dream that our children will get to witness how vegetables grow!
This is the area at the top of our driveway (with the garage to the right). There are previously existing pink shrub roses and this season I planted some white sweet alyssum because I love the scent. Now I have added a Lantana Camara ('Red Spread') in the upper left, below the bird house, because Lantana attracts hummingbirds and butterflies.
A close-up of the Lantana, which can grow two to three feet high
This view of the sunny corner is from inside the fence at the top of the driveway. To the left are camellias and in the far right corner are some shrubs whose name I don't know and one red rose bush.
I spent several days preparing the soil with shovel, pick axe, amenders, and fertilizer, although never did prepare it as beautifully as it deserved. Our soil is nearly hard as a rock, plus is filled with a network of thick roots (think of all those trees we had cut down!) and veins of some kind of white granite. Also, the developer used this corner of the yard to cheaply dump (hide) his excess bricks and black stones.
The planted garden!
From a different angle
This is the planted garden after I watered it and laid down some hardwood mulch I had on hand.
Clockwise you see a sweet pepper (flavorburst hybrid), a coral bell (flower that had already been planted there), basil, a raspberry (Rubus idaeus 'Canby Red') that I hope will grow along the fence, a Sweet 100 cherry tomato, and another basil.Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Knight in Shining Armor
As I was washing dishes after dinner, I saw Chris take a roll of tin foil into the den. Minutes later, John ran in, wearing the above, and saying, "Mama! I just noticed you were in trouble! Do you need rescuing?"
My knight in shining armor
Creative (Rookie) Mother of the Day
Problem: Kids (especially bigger one) are whining and wanting attention and wanting to "dooooo something, Mama!" while Mama wants to make dinner in the afternoon so it will be all ready in the evening.
Idea: Mama will set up the children with finger painting, which they will then do together, cooperatively, cheerfully, and neatly while Mama prepares stuffed shells and sausages nearby. By doing thus, children will have a wholesome good time and Mama will win Creative Mother of the Day award.
Reality: Mama lugs easel from upstairs into the kitchen, puts smocks on children, shows them how to paint.
Soon there is paint in each child's hair, as put their by the other child.
A stool is retrieved to be able to paint the top of the paper.
Mama ends up being called over a half dozen times to refill the bowls of paint, to break up sharing squabbles, and to stop the little one from eating the paint. Then the children declare themselves done, so Mama washes their hands in the bathroom, thus necessitating that the whole bathroom be wiped free of paint. The smocks must be washed. The kitchen floor must be mopped. And the children must be bathed.
Idea: Mama will set up the children with finger painting, which they will then do together, cooperatively, cheerfully, and neatly while Mama prepares stuffed shells and sausages nearby. By doing thus, children will have a wholesome good time and Mama will win Creative Mother of the Day award.
Reality: Mama lugs easel from upstairs into the kitchen, puts smocks on children, shows them how to paint.
Soon there is paint in each child's hair, as put their by the other child.
A stool is retrieved to be able to paint the top of the paper.How much progress on those stuffed shells do you think Mama made through all of this?
It was a good idea, but a rookie mother move!
Nest Season 2010
We have a bird's nest in the holly bush right outside the window above our kitchen sink! It is difficult to see, but I am excited to get to watch eggs be laid there and baby birds hatch. With the nest to watch and the highway of hummingbirds visiting our feeder outside the other kitchen window, this is a happenin' place!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Handsome Boy
I think John must be going through a growth spurt because lately I often look over at him seeming so tall and lanky and with a newly maturing expression on his face and I think, "Who is that handsome son of mine?!"
Pentecost Birthday Cake
Apparently one of the desserts you get to make when you live in the South is an ice cream sandwich cake. (There are many variations of recipes, and this video is a colorful, Southern-style presentation to watch.) I had my doubts, but this turned out to be really delicious. We made this cake in celebration of Pentecost, which is considered the Catholic Church's birthday.
Mary's first Oreo cookies
We used store-brand ice cream sandwiches of vanilla ice cream and chocolate cookies. Our filling was homemade whipped cream mixed with crushed Oreo cookies.
The final product, frosted with plain whipped cream.
We froze the cake for about 20 minutes until it was hard, then wrapped it in plastic wrap and put it back in the freezer for a few hours until after dinner.
The children ate the leftover whipped cream-and-Oreos mixture.
I happened to have made too much whipped cream. In the past if I made too much, I dutifully got a large spoon and ate it all in one sitting because, as you know, homemade whipped cream lasts only a few hours in the refrigerator--and it would be a sin to waste! But now I have learned that one can freeze whipped cream for up to a month. Place the dollops of whipped cream on waxed or parchment paper, then freeze.
Then wrap the dollops in plastic wrap, place inside a plastic bag, and freeze for up to a month. Now I have no reason to eat straight whipped cream with a spoon, but as I was wrapping the frozen dollops, I certainly wondered if they would taste good eaten as "cookies."
We chose not to include a layer of fruit in our cake as some recipes call for, but we did make some sugared strawberries to have on the side. We sang "Happy Birthday" to the Church. Look at those beautiful layers. It really was a delicious cake and we all raved. My stand mixer made the whipped cream for me and the rest of the assembly took five whole minutes. I'm never going to buy an expensive ice cream store cake again! (The ingredients cost about $12, which is a lot for an everyday dessert, but is far less expensive than a ice cream store cake for a special occasion.)Friday, May 21, 2010
Happy Helpers
Last night I offered to John that he could see if he was a big-enough boy now to spray down the kitchen table using Real Chemicals (Simple Green, watered down about 1:50). He was very enthusiastic, to say the least, and he stuck to the rule about Not Spraying Anybody.It is definitely trying to my patience to stand back and let the kids try to learn these chores and I often fail in perfect patience, but it sure is a neat phase to see them blossoming so much in this arena.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Five-Minute Artisan Bread
A bread recipe was recently recommended to me and now I'd like to recommend it to all my bread-baking friends! This is five-minute artisan bread, and the idea is that one makes the dough every so often, but bakes the fresh bread any time one wants it.
I made it yesterday and it is utterly easy and delicious. First of all, one mixes the dough but there is no kneading involved. There is only one rise. Then one can bake right away and/or save the remaining dough in the refrigerator, to use within the next two weeks (as if it would ever last that long in this bread-loving household). When one wants some fresh-baked bread, one pulls off a pound of dough and bakes it, voila! The only "extra" step is pouring some hot water in a broiling pan in the bottom of the oven so the steam will make the crust extra crunchy.
I tried the whole wheat recipe, using half whole wheat and half white flour, and it is outright fabulous. And, now, I am off to bake a fresh loaf so my friend and I can have freshly baked bread for our sandwiches when she comes over for lunch!
I made it yesterday and it is utterly easy and delicious. First of all, one mixes the dough but there is no kneading involved. There is only one rise. Then one can bake right away and/or save the remaining dough in the refrigerator, to use within the next two weeks (as if it would ever last that long in this bread-loving household). When one wants some fresh-baked bread, one pulls off a pound of dough and bakes it, voila! The only "extra" step is pouring some hot water in a broiling pan in the bottom of the oven so the steam will make the crust extra crunchy.
I tried the whole wheat recipe, using half whole wheat and half white flour, and it is outright fabulous. And, now, I am off to bake a fresh loaf so my friend and I can have freshly baked bread for our sandwiches when she comes over for lunch!
Mary and John Growing Like Weeds
"The Grandparents' Report"
(more information than non-family members will probably care about!)
Mary and John had their delinquent well-child checks this week. I judged that they looked perfectly well to me, so I hadn't taken either in for nearly a year and a half (except for sick visits).
John: 33 pounds (45th percentile) and three feet two inches (32nd percentile).
Mary: 26 pounds 6 ounces (77th percentile) and two feet eight inches (60th percentile).
We ended up visiting a dermatologist the same day as our family doctor. Mary has an unhealed lesion that has been on the top of her foot for six weeks, and I'd taken her in for it twice. It started as a simple, tiny abrasion from her shoe, but then it never healed and just got bigger and angrier. Both doctors said it wasn't (yet) infected, but the recommended hydrocortisone wasn't helping it. The dermatologist said to keep a bandage on it at all times so it wouldn't rub up against anything (I'd been letting her go barefoot virtually all the time so shoes wouldn't rub on it and because "dry healing" is generally more efficacious than "wet healing") and to put on an antifungal twice daily (to prevent fungus from setting in). In two days of this treatment, the quarter-sized lesion has healed more than in six weeks prior.
Also, remember that mystery rash that never turned into chicken pox? She still had the rash three weeks later, so the family doctor sent us to that dermatologist. He walked in and airily diagnosed, "Oh, molloscum cantagiosum." My heart sunk. Many of the mothers in my La Leche League chapter have been battling molloscum for a long time--some for months, even a year, I heard. But I think some of them were avoiding the standard treatment--that I opted for immediately--of having cryotherapy done to a half dozen of the pox, which is supposed to "wake up" the immune system, which then fights off the remainder of the rash. As a virus, of course, it is always in the body, but the immune system can fight the symptoms. Mary was such a trooper, letting out a few angry cries at the freezing, but then declining to comfort nurse because she insisted on getting off my lamp to stomp around the room angrily for a few seconds before she was back to all smiles. I do hope the cryotherapy works: if one reads the Internet, there is much dramatic debate about how to treat molloscum and the fact that, being a virus with an extremely variable life, it could disappear at any time, it is nigh impossible to judge the efficacy of any given treatment (meaning, the pox might have been just about ready to disappear anyway).
Now I don't know how much to quarantine Mary during what the dermatologist hoped would be about three weeks before the pox are gone. On one hand, the numbers are ugly: The incubation period is two to seven weeks, any individual pox can last two to four months, and a whole "case" can last six to twelve months. And it is "highly contagious" (hence contagiosum). But very, very few women are stay-at-home moms, so many children are walking around with molloscum (it seems quite common, at least around here), spreading it at their daycare centers, schools, pools--and LLL meetings! :) The vast majority of children with molloscum are certainly not being quarantined, but what that means for me, I just don't know. My children are not enrolled in any programs, but we still have some social events, guests coming over, my next LLL meeting (and I really should go, since I'm a leader), and church events.
Mary is significantly along the way to being potty trained. Because I've done casual elimination communication since she was three months old, she has very rarely done more than pee in her diapers since she was half a year old. She tells me she needs to go and I take her to a potty (including the big potty). Or, she'll even just take herself without telling me, as I discovered her this morning. I'm thrilled to see her so close to being done with diapers at only 18 months old! We'll see if I can put in the extra effort to finish her learning process in the next six months or so.
Meanwhile, Mary has begun that really neat language phase of asking what things are called. I think that most children pick up the word "that" and use it to ask "That? That? That?" as they point here and there. Mary has decided to use the word "This?" and points to everything within her eyesight, asking, "This?" I think it is so neat to see inside their expanding toddler brains, to see that once Mary had the tool to ask for the name of things, she wants to know the names of everything! It is its own kind of "Helen Keller moment."
She has been saying sentences, such as "I'll get it" and "I did it," for a few months now. However, I've rather considered them words, that maybe she doesn't know are sentences ("Ididit!"). But maybe I'm not giving enough credit because she always says the proper pronoun, even though I say of her that "Mary" or "she" did it or I say to her "You did it." And now Mary has begun saying other baby sentences, combining "I" with other verbs (like, "I slipped") and I think those have to count as sentences. What fun for me to watch!
Meanwhile, John is in a "happy helper phase" and--boy!--does he like to help! He asks to help with nearly everything and, even though it slows me down considerably, I'm trying to take advantage of the phase and let him help, teaching him how to do things. The more he is helping me (and, believe me, his three-year-old [in]competency tries my patience), the less he is watching TV or getting into toy squabbles with his sister, so I figure it is the duty of my vocation and I'd better cheerfully say, "Sure, honey, you can help me . . ."
Also, John is asking the most interesting questions on loftier subjects these days. Last night as I was lying down with the two littles, John asked in the dark, "Mama, is God happy?" I was confused, said yes, but asked what he meant. He said, "Is God happy in Heaven?" I said that yes, he was definitely happy in Heaven, and we hope that we can become saints so we can be in Heaven with him too. John said, "Okay, I just wanted to make sure that God is happy." That led to a discussion about saints (as we've been studying the saint of the day) and John insisted that one has to be a grown-up to be a saint. I promised that children can be saints and said we'd get out our books and look up some children saints today. I love my job! (And thank you, Chris, for working so that this can be my job!)
(more information than non-family members will probably care about!)
Mary and John had their delinquent well-child checks this week. I judged that they looked perfectly well to me, so I hadn't taken either in for nearly a year and a half (except for sick visits).
John: 33 pounds (45th percentile) and three feet two inches (32nd percentile).
Mary: 26 pounds 6 ounces (77th percentile) and two feet eight inches (60th percentile).
We ended up visiting a dermatologist the same day as our family doctor. Mary has an unhealed lesion that has been on the top of her foot for six weeks, and I'd taken her in for it twice. It started as a simple, tiny abrasion from her shoe, but then it never healed and just got bigger and angrier. Both doctors said it wasn't (yet) infected, but the recommended hydrocortisone wasn't helping it. The dermatologist said to keep a bandage on it at all times so it wouldn't rub up against anything (I'd been letting her go barefoot virtually all the time so shoes wouldn't rub on it and because "dry healing" is generally more efficacious than "wet healing") and to put on an antifungal twice daily (to prevent fungus from setting in). In two days of this treatment, the quarter-sized lesion has healed more than in six weeks prior.
Also, remember that mystery rash that never turned into chicken pox? She still had the rash three weeks later, so the family doctor sent us to that dermatologist. He walked in and airily diagnosed, "Oh, molloscum cantagiosum." My heart sunk. Many of the mothers in my La Leche League chapter have been battling molloscum for a long time--some for months, even a year, I heard. But I think some of them were avoiding the standard treatment--that I opted for immediately--of having cryotherapy done to a half dozen of the pox, which is supposed to "wake up" the immune system, which then fights off the remainder of the rash. As a virus, of course, it is always in the body, but the immune system can fight the symptoms. Mary was such a trooper, letting out a few angry cries at the freezing, but then declining to comfort nurse because she insisted on getting off my lamp to stomp around the room angrily for a few seconds before she was back to all smiles. I do hope the cryotherapy works: if one reads the Internet, there is much dramatic debate about how to treat molloscum and the fact that, being a virus with an extremely variable life, it could disappear at any time, it is nigh impossible to judge the efficacy of any given treatment (meaning, the pox might have been just about ready to disappear anyway).
Now I don't know how much to quarantine Mary during what the dermatologist hoped would be about three weeks before the pox are gone. On one hand, the numbers are ugly: The incubation period is two to seven weeks, any individual pox can last two to four months, and a whole "case" can last six to twelve months. And it is "highly contagious" (hence contagiosum). But very, very few women are stay-at-home moms, so many children are walking around with molloscum (it seems quite common, at least around here), spreading it at their daycare centers, schools, pools--and LLL meetings! :) The vast majority of children with molloscum are certainly not being quarantined, but what that means for me, I just don't know. My children are not enrolled in any programs, but we still have some social events, guests coming over, my next LLL meeting (and I really should go, since I'm a leader), and church events.
Mary is significantly along the way to being potty trained. Because I've done casual elimination communication since she was three months old, she has very rarely done more than pee in her diapers since she was half a year old. She tells me she needs to go and I take her to a potty (including the big potty). Or, she'll even just take herself without telling me, as I discovered her this morning. I'm thrilled to see her so close to being done with diapers at only 18 months old! We'll see if I can put in the extra effort to finish her learning process in the next six months or so.
Meanwhile, Mary has begun that really neat language phase of asking what things are called. I think that most children pick up the word "that" and use it to ask "That? That? That?" as they point here and there. Mary has decided to use the word "This?" and points to everything within her eyesight, asking, "This?" I think it is so neat to see inside their expanding toddler brains, to see that once Mary had the tool to ask for the name of things, she wants to know the names of everything! It is its own kind of "Helen Keller moment."
She has been saying sentences, such as "I'll get it" and "I did it," for a few months now. However, I've rather considered them words, that maybe she doesn't know are sentences ("Ididit!"). But maybe I'm not giving enough credit because she always says the proper pronoun, even though I say of her that "Mary" or "she" did it or I say to her "You did it." And now Mary has begun saying other baby sentences, combining "I" with other verbs (like, "I slipped") and I think those have to count as sentences. What fun for me to watch!
Meanwhile, John is in a "happy helper phase" and--boy!--does he like to help! He asks to help with nearly everything and, even though it slows me down considerably, I'm trying to take advantage of the phase and let him help, teaching him how to do things. The more he is helping me (and, believe me, his three-year-old [in]competency tries my patience), the less he is watching TV or getting into toy squabbles with his sister, so I figure it is the duty of my vocation and I'd better cheerfully say, "Sure, honey, you can help me . . ."
Also, John is asking the most interesting questions on loftier subjects these days. Last night as I was lying down with the two littles, John asked in the dark, "Mama, is God happy?" I was confused, said yes, but asked what he meant. He said, "Is God happy in Heaven?" I said that yes, he was definitely happy in Heaven, and we hope that we can become saints so we can be in Heaven with him too. John said, "Okay, I just wanted to make sure that God is happy." That led to a discussion about saints (as we've been studying the saint of the day) and John insisted that one has to be a grown-up to be a saint. I promised that children can be saints and said we'd get out our books and look up some children saints today. I love my job! (And thank you, Chris, for working so that this can be my job!)
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Stewardship Fair 2010
This weekend our parish hosted its annual stewardship fair in which all the various ministries advertise themselves so that more people will participate in the groups as well as volunteer. I founded the St. Gerard's ministry at our parish, which organizes volunteers to cook and take meals to women who have just given birth (or are on bed rest or other similar situations).
But there is only so much to say about bringing meals to mothers, so I took the opportunity to advertise two diocesan-wide ministries (but not based out of our parish) much beloved to me: Elizabeth Ministry and Be Not Afraid.
Elizabeth Ministry is a bereavement ministry for families that have lost a baby through miscarriage or stillbirth.
Be Not Afraid is a ministry that encourages and supports families to carry to term babies with a poor prenatal diagnosis (whether a disability or a diagnosis that is "incompatible with life"). The pressure from the obstetrics industry--not every OB, of course, but the profession in general--to have these babies aborted is almost unreal and I could share horrific anecdotes illustrating that. I'll take one opportunity to make the public service announcement that the AFP screening test during pregnancy (to check for fetal abnormalities) has approximately a 97% inaccuracy rate (of false positives for abnormalities). Why does the obstetric industry tolerate a test that is wrong 97% of the time? Because at least if it is inaccurate in saying that something might be wrong with the baby, the OB cannot later be served with a wrongful birth or wrongful life suit because "I told you something might be wrong with your baby." (And who can blame them for not wanting their careers ruined by such a lawsuit?) I seriously doubt the industry would tolerate a test that missed 97% of fetal abnormalities. And since virtually no fetal abnormalities can be treated or corrected during pregnancy, why is there so much emphasis from the obstetricians to test for them? There is only one thing that can be done in the face of a poor prenatal diagnosis. And there are so many misdiagnoses of fetal problems. There was a study done in 2000 of autopsies of 100 babies who had been aborted because of poor prenatal diagnosis: 39 had something "wrong" with them and 61 of them were "perfect." Let those numbers sink in. We don't support organizations like the March of Dimes because its goal to eradicate childhood disabilities is achieved through prenatal testing and abortion of children with disabilities. If that is not eugenics, I do not know what is.
You'll note in the photos that I had on display burial gowns for teeny tiny babies: the silk "purse" for babies in the first trimester, a tiny boy's gown for a second-trimester baby, and a girl's gown for a third-trimester loss. These were all made by Mary Madeline ministry, which uses old wedding gowns and prom dresses to make burial gowns for lost babies.
I was very pleased to have the opportunity to spread knowledge about these two ministries among my fellow parishioners.
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