What Our Tithes Will Fund

Since most of my blog readers presumably are Catholic, I will take a moment to share three accurate representations of orthodox Catholic concerns about the changes being dictated by the presidential administration to have our tax monies funding what is for people of our faith a grave evil (and what was considered by all Christian denominations a grave evil for about 1930 years). The first is a sermon from our brave and bold pastor and the second two are letters given by faithful bishops.

No Constitutional scholar am I, but . . . when I have to start outright paying for others' contraception, sterilization, and abortion, it seems to me that the Founding Fathers' freedom from having a state religion established (forced upon citizens) has become a "freedom" from American citizens' ability to practice their own freely chosen religion in their private lives.

Sermon by Fr. Timothy Reid, St. Ann Catholic Church, Charlotte, NC, source here

Fourth Sunday of Ordinary Time – B 29 January 2012

You’ll notice that our beautiful statue of St. Clare – here on my right – depicts this heroic

virgin holding a monstrance with our Eucharistic Lord. This is to commemorate a most

daring moment in the life of this extraordinary woman.

In September 1240 a band of Saracen soldiers, in the employ of Emperor Frederick II of

Sweden, laid siege to the picturesque town of Assisi in the Umbrian mountains of Italy.

Not content to pillage only the town, the Saracens broke into the cloister of San Damiano,
where St. Clare of Assisi lived with her newly formed community of women religious, whom we now know as the Poor Clares.

Terrified at the invasion of the Saracen soldiers, the sisters cried for help to St. Clare, who at

the time was deathly ill.

Despite her illness and the natural fear that anyone would feel in such a situation, St. Clare
summoned her daughters to courage and faith in the Lord.

With a look of steely resolve and unwavering trust in our Lord’s goodness, she took up the
monstrance with the Eucharist inside and met the Saracens at the wall of the cloister, all the
while praying to our Lord for deliverance.

Though merely a defenseless and sickly woman, St. Clare possessed an authority that made

her stronger than all the soldiers in her midst: the authority of Christ Himself. With the authority of Christ, she struck fear into the hearts of those brutish men without uttering a

word, and they turned away and fled.

Interestingly, the name Clare means “light that stands against the darkness,” and so she is a
natural patron for all who fight the darkness of evil.

While this story in the life of St. Clare is recounted as one of her miracles, the truth is that we

are all called to this same type of prophetic witness. We are all called to face evil head on by

calling on the authority of Christ, just as St. Clare did.

Our readings today speak of this prophetic witness and the authority of Christ, especially

over evil. And as we consider the current state of affairs in our country, I think it’s especially

important that we all understand the necessity of being a prophetic witness in our world

today.

Truly, now more than ever, our dear country needs people to stand up as prophetic witnesses

to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, for it is only through Jesus Christ and by the power of His

grace and mercy that any of us will ever be saved.

The culture wars that have plagued our country (and all of western civilization) for the past

several decades are not merely political issues. They are moral issues.

And the fights that we see taking place in our country are not simply disagreements between

opposing political forces. There is truly a fight between good and evil, and souls are at stake.

Last Sunday I mentioned briefly the new mandate from Health & Human Services that

beginning this August, virtually all insurance plans must cover contraceptives, sterilization

procedures, and even abortifacient drugs free of charge. I’ve also written about it in this

week’s bulletin.

Despite the massive protests and lobbying by our Catholic bishops, our Catholic agencies,

institutions, and Catholic for-profit companies will be required to provide this type of

insurance coverage, even though it violates our consciences and most deeply held principles.

The exemption clause is so narrow that even the Diocese, which is staffed primarily by

Catholics and serves primarily Catholics, will have to comply.

This is not simply a religious issue; this is a constitutional rights issue – for Catholics in the

United States are now being denied the right to practice their faith fully in the public square.

Last Sunday I spoke about the need to do reparation for the sins of our country, most

especially for the sin of abortion. But we must also be willing to fight the evils of our society

by other means too.

Whether we want to face the truth or not, our country is now reaping the fruits of widespread

acceptance and usage of contraception. Contraception promises the joy of the conjugal act

without consequence and without responsibility.

Contraception and sterilization change the very nature of the conjugal act by rendering void

its life-giving quality. Over time this had led to the widespread belief that the conjugal act is

not primarily about procreation, but rather about recreation.

What was designed by God to be an act of sacrifice and self-gift leading to new life has now

become an act of selfishness that often leads to death for an unborn child. We have distorted

one of God’s most precious gifts to satisfy our own selfish desires.

And now our country sees fit to enshrine contraception, sterilization, and abortion as rights so

sacred that all who want them must have unfettered access to them through their insurance

plans, at the expense of us all.

Our government is now telling us that the right to contracept our children into oblivion, to

maim ourselves through sterilization, and to take pills that induce the abortion of unwanted

babies is so sacred that it trumps even the consciences of those who object to these evil

practices.

Truthfully, we cannot be surprised, for we cannot distort the natural law and the God-given

order of creation for selfish reasons and expect there to be no serious consequences.

But brothers and sisters, if we are anything as Catholics, we are people of hope. Moreover,

we know by faith that when we preach the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ with courage and

integrity, we speak with the very authority of Christ Himself.

It is not too late for us to be a prophetic witness to our society that seems hell-bent on

destroying itself.

So in addition to doing reparation for the sins of our country, as I mentioned last Sunday, we

must also convert! If we want our country to change, we must change by refusing to

cooperate with the culture of death in our country.

We must say no to any practices that close the conjugal act to the gift of new life, such as

contraception and sterilization.

We must say no to anything that mocks or tears at the fabric of traditional family life, such as

cohabitation and same-sex unions.

And we must say no to anything that violates our God-given human dignity or destroys

innocent life, such as in-vitro fertilization, embryonic stem cell research, euthanasia, and

especially abortion.

These things are not freedoms that should be protected and enshrined within our laws. They

are evils that lead to selfishness and spiritual bondage, and we must oppose them both

privately within our own lives, and publicly as well.

Like good St. Clare, we must arm ourselves with Christ Himself, which we do through prayer

and by living our Catholic faith with integrity and in its fullness. And then we must be

willing to speak out against these evils and to share the good news of the Gospel.

May God bless our country and save us from our sins. St. Clare of Assisi, pray for us.



Letter from Bishop Jugis to the faithful of his Diocese of Charlotte, North Carolina, source here.

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

I write to you concerning an alarming and serious matter that negatively impacts the Church in the United States directly, and that strikes at the fundamental right to religious liberty for all citizens of any faith. The federal government, which claims to be "of, by, and for the people," has just dealt a heavy blow to almost a quarter of those people – the Catholic population – and to the millions more who are served by the Catholic faithful.

The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services announced last week that almost all employers, including Catholic employers, will be forced to offer their employees' health coverage that includes sterilization, abortion-inducing drugs and contraception. Almost all health insurers will be forced to include those "services" in the health policies they write. And almost all individuals will be forced to buy that coverage as a part of their policies.

In so ruling, the Administration has cast aside the First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, denying to Catholics our nation's first and most fundamental freedom, that of religious liberty. And as a result, unless the rule is overturned, we Catholics will be compelled either to violate our consciences, or to drop health coverage for our employees (and suffer the penalties for doing so).

The Administration's sole concession was to give our institutions one year to comply. We cannot – we will not – comply with this unjust law. People of faith cannot be made second-class citizens. We are already joined by our brothers and sisters of all faiths and many others of good will in this important effort to regain our religious freedom. Our parents and grandparents did not come to these shores to help build America's cities and towns, its infrastructure and institutions, its enterprise and culture, only to have their posterity stripped of their God-given rights. In generations past, the Church has always been able to count on the faithful to stand up and protect her sacred rights and duties. I hope and trust she can count on this generation of Catholics to do the same. Our children and grandchildren deserve nothing less.

And therefore, I would ask of you two things. First, as a community of faith we must commit ourselves to prayer and fasting that wisdom and justice may prevail, and religious liberty may be restored. Without God, we can do nothing; with God, nothing is impossible. Second, I would also recommend visiting www.usccb.org/conscience, to learn more about this severe assault on religious liberty, and how to contact Congress in support of legislation that would reverse the Administration's decision. Take action through CatholicVoiceNC.com.

Bishop Peter Jugis leads the Diocese of Charlotte. Read more about the HHS mandate and Bishop Jugis' call to action.


The January 26 letter from Bishop Bruskewitz to the faithful of his Diocese of Lincoln, Nebraska, can be found here (it is in a pdf format which I cannot copy and paste).

Tools are the Most Fun

John has blossomed with the set of real, child-sized tools he received for Christmas. His favorite activity these days is to "go into the woods" (the trees behind our house) and use his tools on fallen logs (always with an adult present when using the sharp tools).

Mary drilled through a piece of bark in order to make what she is calling a Christmas ornament. She plans to draw a cat on it.

It's fascinating to watch how long John will remain focused, for example taking 20 minutes at a stretch over several days doing nothing but hammering on one log to see what a hammer would do to it.

Today he borrowed Daddy's mallet and discovered what fun it is to smash what we call "squirrel nuts" because we don't know what they are, but the squirrels bury them all over our yard. 

Mary's job was to collect the squirrel nuts, John's job was to smash them. He informed me with a serious tone of voice, "Mama, this is the most fun thing I have ever done."

Cereal in Milk Tastes Good!

A few days ago, Mary was eating a snack of a cup of chocolate milk and a bowl of dry Os cereal. She reported to me enthusiastically, "Mama! I dipped some Os into my chocolate milk and it was yummy!" I chuckled to myself as I realized that Mary doesn't even know that people normally eat cold cereal in milk. Since John has always refused to eat milk with his cereal, I just stopped serving it and Mary grew up not seeing it.

Perhaps sister and brother talked, I don't know, but after Quiet Time today, John raced downstairs ahead of me and, when I got there, I found him with Ovaltine, milk, and Os cereal on the counter.

"Mama, I am going to make chocolate milk in a bowl and put Os inside it."

I tried to act casual. "Oh? That sounds like a good idea."

He really did it.

And he really ate it!

I have written less and less on this blog about John's limited eating to respect his increasing age, but those closest to us know how rough it is. (And then along came Mary who eats anything and everything. When she sees an unrecognized food, she typically asks, "Mama? What is that food called? I want to try it!" And Margaret is so far seeming to be the same way.)

To see my boy eating cereal in milk made me almost burst into tears of joy. I literally run up the stairs to tell Chris, then ran back down to keep watching John in amazement. We've been through so much, we've watched him throw up so many hundreds of times, we've tried so many techniques to help him, we've cycled through not doing anything particular at all (which is "where we've been" lately), we've paid so much for occupational therapy (feeding therapy). Cereal floating in milk is one of the most difficult mixed textures and I never thought I'd see the day when my boy ate it.

Those of my readers for whom cereal in milk is one of the easiest and junkiest snacks for their kids will realize by the depth of my thankfulness and happiness just how difficult is John's eating.

Mary liked it too . . . not that that is a surprise!

Unexpected New Bunk Bed

Another friend's need is our gain! I have a friend who needs to start homeschooling rather suddenly this very week, so is clearing out a room in her house: she needed to rid her family of a bunk bed and we were happy to accept it! (Note how safe this bunk bed looks, so we shouldn't have a repeat of recent difficulties.)

The bunk even came with a super cool bed tent! Now in John's room (where Mary usually sleeps), we have a bunk and one regular twin. In the girls' room, we have king (given to us by other friends!) and twin beds.

So many games are possible! They can play fort.

They can play Little House on the Prairie when the Ingalls were crossing the river and the water rose too high and Jack was lost.

They can raise and lower valuables (like the pink kitty cat) by bucket.

Mary is going to store her sleeping stuffed animals and other special items in the little cupboard at the head of the bottom bunk.

The top bunk where John is going to sleep is level with shelves where John can play his audio books on CD, read his paper books, and examine the items in his Treasure Box (an old cigar box containing such things as a broken digital watch, a few pennies, a special bookmark). Plus you can see the books and stuffed animals strewn about the bed.

It's so much fun that I want to play in the bunk bed!

Almond Meal Pancakes

I love these almond meal pancakes, Mama! And it's so great that they are low in carbohydrates and high in protein!

Cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk

John said, "Maybe these can be an every-day breakfast!"

Bonus: This is a sweet video by Kimberly Hahn about offering everything to God. The brief skit is goofy, but actually deep and orthodox in its teaching.

Six-Year Wedding Anniversary

Saturday was our six-year wedding anniversary!

I learned that Calla lilies are the official flower of six-year wedding anniversaries.

Chris gave me two beautiful iron fleur-de-lis bookends. He got major points for the gift being bookish (I am nothing if not an inveterate bookworm) and for being symbolic, since iron is the traditional gift material of sixth wedding anniversaries and the fleur-de-lis is a lily.

Chris teases me because I gave him a waffle iron, which is neither symbolic nor romantic. Plus I've given him a waffle iron once before--which turned out to be a flop. But, in my defense, it is a thoughtful gift because Chris dislikes Belgian waffles and prefers a traditional waffle. The last traditional waffle iron I gave him was cheaply made and made insipid, floppy waffles. On Sunday morning, we tried out our new waffle iron and it is fabulous! It makes six waffles simultaneously, in about two minutes flat, and they come out crispy and delicious!

Mock me all you want, honey, those waffles were tasty.

On Saturday night, we hired our beloved sitter for the two older kids and tried to go on a date.

We tried.

Read on for the comedy of errors, if you'd like!

Honestly, this anniversary celebration was eerily similar to how we celebrated our first wedding anniversary, a jaunt you can take down memory lane here.

Why did we take a 10-month-old to dinner with us anyway, you ask? Good question. It's because we don't pay high-enough wages for a babysitter to hold a screaming baby for two or three hours. As long as Margaret is with her mama, she's cheerful.

No, no, let me correct that: as long as she is well-rested and with her mama, she is cheerful. And she was not well rested last night!

She had taken a morning cat nap in the car. Come afternoon, I tried to get her to nap repeatedly and she simply wouldn't do it! I nursed her, I lay down with her, I rocked her, I let her cry for a while, I wore her on my back. I tried about once per hour to get her to fall asleep and as she played cheerfully instead of falling asleep, I had more of a sinking feeling that I was in for bad news.

In the early evening (okay, so most people would call it late afternoon, but, you know, we normally eat at 5:30, so it feels like evening to us!) . . . in the early evening, I put on my fun, fancy new outfit and those sensible high heels I've worn three times in two years and I dressed Margaret in a sweet dress, and off we went with Chris.

We arrived at the restaurant, the one I look forward to all year. We go once a year, I never want to celebrate our anniversary elsewhere--it is so good! All day long I'd been salivating about their wedge salad, whatever entree I chose, and their crème brûlée for dessert.

Each year we have made a reservation and never needed it because we were the only patrons there at, you know, 5:30 in the "evening." So this year we did not make a reservation and showed up to a very crowded restaurant. When told there would be a 70-minute wait, we learned that this was Restaurant Week here in Charlotte, which is when many of the upscale restaurants offer a prix fixe menu of three courses for $30.

We called the valet service back, loaded the by-now-screaming baby into the car, and called over to another restaurant we had heard good things about: they had availability, so we scooted that way.

An entire 40 minutes (of a crying baby) later, we arrived. As soon as we walked in, I had an uneasy feeling. Actually, let's call it what it was: a rising panic. This was an intimate Italian restaurant. Intimate, meaning the entire restaurant was one room of about 400 square feet, lit dimly with candles, the sound of tinkling silver and wine glasses. It was almost entirely full (due to Restaurant Week), but there was one table left open right in the middle of the room by the front door.

The waiter said, "So, it will be you two . . . and the toddler?"

We sat down and I expressed my worry for the first of about a dozen times that would happen in the all of five minutes I lasted in the restaurant. The baby was anxious and jumpy and starting to squawk. She wanted things to play with, but I couldn't let her play with the silverware, wine glasses, or white linen table cloth. Chris handed her his cell phone, which she promptly threw to the stone floor.

I am not a suspicious person, so I swear to you that I (who was facing in to the restaurant, unlike my husband who was facing the door) witnessed several different patrons turn around in their seats and glare at me because of the increasingly loud baby.

And then she threw a tantrum. Did you know 10-month-olds can throw tantrums? Oh, yes, they can, with the arching back and the screaming in rage!

I grabbed the baby and my purse and ran out of the restaurant. It was cold outside, but across the courtyard were the Hearst Towers, a posh building with restaurants and theatre on the ground floor and offices in the floors above. There I stayed in that lobby with a screaming baby for the next 40 minutes or so.

Have I mentioned that the interior of the building is entirely marble? Do you know how much marble magnifies the volume of a screaming baby? Even hanging out in the lobby pacing with her, I could see the lines of ladies and gentlemen in their most sparkly, fancy, going-out wardrobes standing in line for the restaurants in the building and they turned and stared at me, wondering what on earth I was doing dressed up with a baby at night. So, I began walking the halls of this marble prison of sorts, so at least I bothered different patrons at different times and they couldn't cast so many glares at me as I wandered the labyrinth of marble hallways. I would have gone to the van to muffle the screams, but Chris had the keys!

After several consultations with Chris (still in the restaurant) via cell phone, he ordered our dinner to go. Chris even ran out to find me with some bread so I wouldn't be so hungry while I waited. A nice father with his family in the restaurant approached Chris to tell him, 'I've been there, buddy.'

We drove home and the baby finally cried herself to sleep in her car seat.

We ended up eating our dinner on our same-old Corelle plates on a kitchen table covered in crumbs from the kids, the centerpiece being two lambs made from clothespins by the children to celebrate St. Agnes' feast day. The baby slept in the van in the dark garage, the door open to the kitchen so we could listen for her.

Refreshed by sleep and with the eyes of humor, today my only regret is that I did not get to eat my crème brûlée, for which I yearn and pine all year long! Crème brûlée apparently does not make good take-out food and is one of those things a person must eat right out of the oven, at the restaurant itself.

I apologized to Chris many times for things like, you know, being a mother, having a baby, and having a baby who doesn't yet tolerate staying home without me. He very kindly and sincerely said, "This is the rich stuff which life is made of. How boring would it be if everything just worked out okay?"

Vegetables Abound

Recently I've been on a vegetables kick--which I'm sure just thrills my family members. Above is a photo of the vegetables I purchased for two weeks' worth of meals--not counting that I'd already put away a whole paper bag full of vegetables.

There are seasons of my life when we're eating boring boiled frozen veggies at best, there are seasons when we're living on frozen premade meals from Trader Joe's without any veggies at all, but then there are seasons when I can do a lot of cooking from scratch, including many interesting vegetable dishes. In the last couple of weeks, I've made:

Roasted vegetables, tomato-rice soup, sweet potato stew, roasted asparagus, pasta e fagiole soup, minestrone soup, spinach and chickpeas, spinach with Parmesan bread crumbs, Cuban black beans over rice, zucchini with feta, and fresh vegetable soup (which involved things like kale, savoy cabbage, Swiss chard, cauliflower, broccoli, zucchini, carrots, peppers, celery, onion--and which I won't be making again because I did not like it!).

The day before we departed for Washington D.C., I had a goodly amount of fresh vegetables remaining that I knew wouldn't last the weekend, but I didn't want to waste them. I made several recipe dishes that day: one recipe I tried with my remaining kale was kale chips.

Finished product: While I will not claim, as others have, that these are as delicious as potato chips, I will say that they taste like oil and salt, which everybody likes, and that I found myself eating most of the entire plate. Chris gave them a thumbs down.

I found a way not to throw away a bunch of basil, cilantro, and parsley. After "only" six years of running my home kitchen, it occurred to me that day that herbs freeze well! So I chopped up my gorgeous fresh herbs, divided them into ice cubes with a tiny bit of water, and froze them. Then I popped the cubes out into a labeled Ziplock bag. I've already used some of them in cooking and they work beautifully. I probably could have purchased a Gucci handbag with the money I've wasted in the last six years by throwing away most of the bunches of fresh herbs I couldn't use fast enough!

Sounding Out Words and Writing

Today marked the first time, I think, that John sounded out words on his own in order to write them down.

I've been pretty laid back about homeschooling and considered this (ages four to five) a preschool year. At times I've taught John reading formally and he loved it, but when he burned out, I backed off. His interest ebbs and flows. There are definitely times to push scholastics on the reticent student, but, for the most part, I don't consider four and five years old to be one of those times.

Often he asks me how to spell words and I tell him so he can write them down, but never did he want to sound them out himself.

But today he did!

FOX IN A BOX. CUP. CANDLE.

I know plenty of kids sound out words earlier than this, and some later, but it's not a contest or a race. It was just exciting for me, today being the day for my firstborn to make this little leap.

I had an interesting conversation today with a friend who is considering homeschooling for Kindergarten. One of her questions is how John spends his day, what does homeschooling preschool look like. I struggled with how to answer because a few times per week I more formally teach school but most of the time he learns on the fly at this tender age. Today we attended Mass and read about the saint of the day.  I read chapters to the children from "Schoolhouse in the Woods" and "Stuart Little," and some Bible stories, and Daddy read chapters to them from "By the Shores of Silver Lake." We took a neighborhood walk. He played cumulatively hours of imagination games with Mary. He built a couple of inventions involving a hat, string, and a toilet paper roll. John repaired something under Daddy's instruction using his very own small hammer. He drew stick figure scenes. John was in after lunch Quiet Time for about an hour and a half (which is learning because he has learned that, even though he usually doesn't nap anymore, he can exercise self-discipline by staying in his room and being quiet, and he can entertain himself instead of relying on others). John asked me all about money, so we got out all the coins and made piles showing their worth--and I pretty much blew his mind, which was humorous ("a nickle is worth five pennies . . . and two nickles are worth a dime?!"). John taught himself the rudiments of hand sewing alongside me while I mended a pair of pants--he sewed three toy balls (although I'd probably have to tell you they were balls for you to recognize them). John helped me cook. He babysat his baby sister for me in the other room. And he watched half an hour of "Curious George."

So, to answer my friend's question, that's pretty much a glimpse into my five-year-old's day.

Bonus reading:

"Don't Blink" by Elizabeth Foss

"Stay-at-Home Mom Blues" by Theresa Thomas

Margaret's First Step

Hear ye, hear ye!

Miss Margaret took her first purposeful step today, at ten months old!

I had noticed several times today that she was trying very hard to take a step, but then she'd lose her nerve and plunk down slowly. Finally toward the end of the day, I crouched down and held out my hands, she smiled and stared me straight in the eye, and she took one slow, deliberate step toward me, held her balance, then lowered herself down.

My girl!!!

Video will be posted as soon as I can capture it, but you know how that is usually delayed sometime after a sweet baby milestone is reached.

March for Life D.C. 2012

It is that time of year again! I was unable to participate in the March for Life Charlotte because I woke up to a child with a vomiting illness. But on Sunday we travelled to Washington D.C. to participate in the national March for Life. It is estimated that more than 54 million babies have been aborted since Roe v. Wade was decided in 1973 (article here). While it may be legal now, I'd argue that it's not safe and nobody in honesty could say that it is rare ("safe, rare, and legal").

John and Mary were almost angelic for the eight hours of travel, although Baby Margaret did cry for long stretches of the drive. John was exuberant in gaining his freedom when we arrived at the hotel after dark.

As we ate breakfast Monday morning, Chris and I debated what to do. We were operating on little sleep, as Mary had developed a cold Sunday night and was awake much of the night crying--as little ones tend to do when they're in misery from something even so simple as a common cold. That night, John slept only eight hours, Margaret only seven hours, and Mary only about six hours (and the parents getting the least sleep of all, obviously).

The bigger problem was the weather. We were facing a high of 44 with rain all day. I had brought warm clothing for everyone . . . except for me! I forgot my own coat. And I had not brought rain gear for the children or me.

On one side of the equation is that this cause is extremely important to us. We had invested two days of driving, two vacation days for Chris, gas money, purchase of a double stroller, and effort.

On the other side of the equation was terrible weather, insufficient clothing, one sick child, and everyone being underslept.

What to do?

I confessed to Chris that I felt so embarrassed that I'd planned this trip without realizing the many unforeseeable difficulties that come with having small children. One sick kid can cancel everything. We adults can suffer in bad weather like warriors, but we probably shouldn't do that to little kids. I simply hadn't thought of these things because I was in the mode of being a pro-life warrior (cue super hero music and my own excessive self-focus). Chris was so kind. He replied that he had already known all of this when we began planning this trip, but he had still thought it a good idea to come. "The kids like to stay in a hotel, plus you never get out."

Ha ha. Yes, that is rather true.

He said that even if all we did was drive to D.C. to stay in a hotel for two nights, that would be okay with him. Such sweetness and patience!

After breakfast, we returned to the hotel room, where Mary made herself a little nest between the bed and the wall where she insisted in taking a nap--which was fine by us!

Meanwhile, I bundled up Margaret and went on a walk to two drug stores in search of emergency rain ponchos. With tens of thousands of visitors descending on the downtown area on a rainy day, ponchos were hard to find.

Beautiful red winter berries

Snow on the ground: it was cold! 

Just walking around D.C. that morning was an emotional experience for me. I felt exhilerated about the "big adventure," yet so small and vulnerable. First of all, I had a baby with me (and she wasn't even my only child!), while I didn't see a single other child out and about. I saw many professional women, so I got to refresh myself on the latest fashion styles, since I basically live under a rock (hardly even watching TV) and don't know what women are wearing except when I go through airports. I had to pause every block or two to consult my map. I felt strange and out-of-place and wondered where the old me had gone, the brave and bold young lady who traveled around the world and had adventures.

Well, she's been replaced and I think the more mature me does more important things of value. I think that the old me may have been brave but she was foolish and ridiculous too.

Nonetheless, I felt a bit like a matronly country rube walking around D.C. Then I felt a tiny bit of very silly victory when I spotted a sophisticated urban woman wearing a pair of shoes that I own--interesting, impractical, purple shoes. I own shoes so fashionable that this hip woman owns them too and they look great on her! But what adds more humor to the silliness that lifted my mood is that I bought that pair of shoes when I was in my last month of my third pregnancy, my feet were so swollen that I fit none of my shoes, and this pair of normally expensive purple shoes were on a clearance sale for about $5, so I bought them. That's probably not the same reason that the dramatic and hip woman bought her pair.

We bundled up the gang and headed out for the noon rally--which normally we would have skipped in order to preserve the children's energy for the march. However, we knew the march was to start at 1:30 and the rain deluge was to let loose at 2:00, so we thought the rally might be the only part in which we could participate.

At least 100,000 pro-lifers participated (the vast majority cheerfully and peacefully), not that you would know it based on the media (see here).

It began to rain a steady and chilling drizzle, so I wrapped each child in a fleece blanket and tented them in plastic as best I could.

The children began to complain of the chill and we stretched their patience as best we could. We decided to start the march route ourselves even though the rally was not yet ended. It turns out we weren't the only ones, as the streets of the route were already entirely filled with peaceful protesters. We made it for a few blocks before the children were in tears (which is pitiful and heart-wrenching, indeed, but also recall how easily complaining children are moved to tears over things like not getting their favorite TV show or particular food).

It was then time for us to march the children back to the hotel. I admit struggling badly with emotions. I wanted to be a prayer warrior for God. People have to show up to these things! We have to make our voices heard, let people see that we pro-lifers are normal, healthy, peaceful, family-oriented citizens. But despite what I wanted, I realized I had to fulfill my God-given duties to my own children first even before I could help (in whatever small way) to save other children (from abortion). It was terribly hard for me to see many other parents with young children marching into the rain while we were marching out of it. I don't know what the right decision was for families like ours with young children. I was certainly grateful for the many thousands of teenagers and 20-somethings, carefree and able to be at the march. I was grateful for the many older families and adults who were there too.

In total, we were out in the rain for two and a half hours.

Interestingly, before we left, the hotel staff from the Housekeeping and Valet departments revealed their prolife stance and took a real shine to us. We never said we were there for the march, we didn't wear pins or stickers, but a family with three young children staying in downtown D.C. does stick out like a sore thumb. One woman from the Valet department came up to us and outright thanked us for "praying for babies." "We need people to pray for babies! You go and save those babies!" Then the head of Housekeeping approached us and asked us if he could please stock our room with hot cocoa and cookies for when we returned. Several other staff members approached us as well. (And when we checked out, the valet woman actually showered all three of our children with kisses and said, "See you next year!")

So, all of that love for babies is why we returned to the hotel room with two cold, crying children who we promptly dressed in dry clothing, tucked into beds, and nursed back to smiles with hot cocoa and an entire selection of Pepperidge Farm cookies.

We spent the afternoon watching a special Winnie-the-Pooh movie (while I felt wracked with guilt about our comfort, thinking of all the dedicated marchers out in the freezing rain) and then had a hotel pizza picnic for dinner. (Oh my, Margaret loves solid foods. As an example, she ate half an adult-sized slice of pizza for dinner.)

The children were so exhausted that they requested to go to sleep early and were snoozing by 6:30 p.m., with the baby following close behind. In the morning, John and Margaret woke up having caught Mary's cold.

At home, I am forever removing Margaret from gleefully unfurling the toilet paper (some bigger kid having forgotten to close the bathroom door), so the baby was tickled at the hotel to have two toilet paper rolls to unwind simultaneously!

Plus she discovered her first mirror down at her level, and would stand there silently, just staring at herself.

On the drive home, it finally occurred to us to try the experiment of placing John next to the baby to try to entertain her. This worked for a while and relieved me some of that job, hour after hour. She did take two naps on the drive and didn't cry quite as extensively, for which we were grateful.

The weather was exquisite: fifteen degrees warmer than the day of the march and sunny. We didn't even need to wear sweaters.

We stopped for lunch at an attractive, clean rest area, which worked out so much better than a restaurant, such as where we typically stop. Here the kids got to really stretch their legs. I had the kids run races between trees till they were out of breath . . .

. . . and climb walls and trees.

Somehow Mary managed purposefully to lay down on her back in the mud, and then later to fall flat on her face, such that she was covered in mud on both halves of her! Then before we could think to take off her shoes, she crawled over the fabric seats in the van, covering them with mud.

We enjoyed a sweet picnic lunch of PBJ sandwiches.

The international 40 Days for Life campaign is starting anew in a few weeks, so you have opportunities to sign up for peaceful prayer and fasting at locations near you, without even having to drive to our nation's capital!

Bonus: Click here for an inspiring photo slideshow of beautiful photos from the March, the likes of which you're not likely to find in the secular media.