Need some tips on spring cleaning?

Today’s To-Do List:

The 4 Bedrooms: organize, change sheets, clean windows, dust.
The 2 Bathrooms: organize and clean

Errands:

dry cleaners
deliver baked ziti for charity dinner
drop off toys/children’s books for church babysitting

a little more done

Homily by Father Scalia through Catholic Exchange.

Persistence is such an admirable trait.

It is the drive that differentiates between a good athlete and an Olympic champion.
It’s what gets someone from fry-cook to owner of a chain.
It’s what produces great talent out of someone who isn’t a “natural” – whether it be in the arena of sports, art, music, or just simply life.

Try, try, again, and eventually, you’ll get good.

Persistence is what keeps a mom’s hair from going too gray too fast, or her face from getting too wrinkly too soon, or her mind from going bonkers before she hits 40.

Moms need persistence to deal with the never-ending cycle of “Mom can I? – no – please? – no – please? – no – pretty please? – no” or to deal with a toddler’s tornado-like ability to wreak havoc on a calm and clean household. Well, a mom doesn’t really need persistence, but if she doesn’t have it, she will be more likely to respond to such situations with yelling and pulling her hair out.

Persistence is a virtue in the adult world. I think I have a lot of persistence. I can blithely say no for the 239th time to a lollipop before dinner, and I’m pretty amused and amazed at my children’s repeated requests for something as if the world changed in the last 5 minutes making roller-blading down the park slide a safe thing to do or whatever. As long as the badgering is polite and not whiny or abusive, we can play the game all day. I will admit, though, that if all 4 kids hit me at once, I have to start doling out time in the penalty box. There is a limit to my sanity and peace of mind.

Persistence, however, in a child is not appreciated as a virtue. The child who can ask 239 times for a lollipop before dinner is usually considered annoying, not admirable. Moms don’t really want persistent juveniles, but of course would want persistent adult children. Or rather, we want our children to be persistent when learning to play a musical instrument or learning to hit a tennis ball or struggling with math or soliciting customers for their lawn mowing business. But we don’t want them to be persistent when they want to do things we don’t want them to do.

Well, a persistent kid is a persistent kid in all (or most) things. The key is to focus on the positive – think to the future! Know that their persistence really needs to be encouraged, so that it will develop into a strong and admirable adult trait.

This is a pep rally for me. All of my kids are persistent. Some more so than others. Billy is particularly persistent when he wants something. Jenny isn’t often willing to accept no for an answer.

And Pete, only 9 months old is beginning to show early signs of persistence. He knows where the toilet paper can be found and that, if he manages to get a loose end, he can unroll the whole thing. He knows where the toy room is and gets really upset if his siblings close the door to keep him out. And he knows where Katie’s Playmobile palace is and boy, oh boy, does he want to play with all those cool little pieces, especially those itty bitty flowers that roll so nicely on his tongue. And if mommy sits in front of the palace to block his access, he will crawl all over her and fight like mad to try to get around her.

Yes, persistence is the hallmark of the most successful people in the world. Persistence is good…persistence is good…persistence is good…

Today is my birthday. I’m 35 years old.

No, no, it’s ok. I don’t expect anyone to know or remember my birthday (well, except for my immediate family). I realize that I’m not the center of anyone else’s universe. And I don’t know the birthdays of even close friends, so it’s ok if they don’t know mine.

Usually, my birthday is pretty awful anyway. It’s not that bad things happen, it’s just that it doesn’t feel like a special day. It’s just life as usual.

Last year, for example, there was a mandatory meeting for parents with children in the baseball program on my birthday. It was at 6 pm. I didn’t want to cook on my birthday, so we went out to eat. But Bill didn’t get home until about 530 pm, so dinner was drive-through Wendy’s which we ate in the parking lot. Bill then got into his car (we brought 2 cars) and went to the meeting, while my 4 little children and my swollen pregnant belly and I went to Baskin Robbins for ice cream. And Bill ordered me some gifts, but they were late (because he waited until the last minute, of course).

This is my typical birthday.

But this year, probably because he knew he had no free time and also because there are stores like Hallmark and CVS and others right inside the Pentagon where he has a lot of downtime, Bill took care of everything in advance, and I’m having the best birthday ever.

First of all, he wished me a happy birthday as he was kissing me good morning. Then, when I joined him downstairs for breakfast, I saw 2 presents and a card on the dining room table. Wow. Here’s one of my presents:

To understand this, let’s go back a few nights. I was cutting fruit to make a salad for breakfast the next day. I was careless. I sliced my finger – badly enough to need stitches. I went to the emergency room (drove myself!), but when I got there, I thought that it had started to heal. I told myself I was being a wimp (I’ve never had stitches) and carried on. But when I got to the actual waiting room and saw how crowded it was for 930 pm, I decided that I had better things to do and went home. I searched our first aid supplies and realized that we didn’t have gauze and adhesive tape. As I put a bandaid on, I grumbled to Bill that we needed better supplies for the next time. He also said that it was a good thing that he hadn’t bought me those knives I wanted for my birthday. I agreed. Surely, if I were using real good sharp knives, I would be missing the tip of my pointer finger.

My other present was a set of real good sharp knives.

Gosh, I don’t even want to know how much they cost. But I am so happy to be able to get rid of the haphazard, eclectic and less-than effective collection I currently use.

But the morning gets better. Shortly after he left, Fritz woke up and presented me with a card (bought by Dad at the Pentagon) and signed by him.

About a half hour later, Jenny woke up. She came downstairs, gave me hugs and kisses and smiles and sat on my lap for several minutes. Oh, she’s no longer a baby, but I love this cuddling that I get most mornings. And then she remembered something and went back upstairs. I was worried that she was going to wake the baby or her sister or make some mess…I almost called her back. But she came down a minute later and presented me with a card! So sweet.

Then Billy and then Katie followed with their cards. I guess at bedtime last night there was whispering and conspiring that I managed to miss. That’s pretty amazing.

After everyone was awake, Fritz played “Happy Birthday” on the piano and everybody sang to me. Very cute. And, yes, a very happy day.

…even though it’s not…yet…Holy Week.

Tagged by SFO Mom.

Lent is almost over and this Sunday is Palm Sunday already! I thought it would be fun to share what we do special to commemorate the Passion and Resurrection of Our Lord.

1. What do you do with your new blessed palm from Palm Sunday? It goes behind the crucifix on our dining room wall. If we have more than one, I’ll put them behind other crucifixes or our big icon from Kosovo (known to Bill and I as THE Icon).

2. What do you do with your old one from last year? I burn it and put the ashes in my garden.

3. What do you do during Holy Week in preparation for Good Friday? Spring cleaning to rival that of any kosher Jew, watch The Passion of the Christ, have a special Holy Thursday dinner with lamb, matzohs, and sparkling grape juice, put purple cloths over the icons and crosses, night prayer vigil until midnight.

4. How do you commemorate Christ’s Passion on Good Friday? No TV or computer, Stations of the Cross at noon stopping after the 11th station and completing them at 3 pm, strict fast (bread and water).

5. When do you color Easter eggs? Holy Saturday afternoon. I let Bill do most of the work with the kids. We’ve done pysanki in the past – I love it. But our kit is buried and I’m not digging it out due to our impeding move. Maybe next year.

6. When do you buy Easter candy? Sometime when I don’t have the kids in tow. I guess I’ll try to do it this weekend.

7. What is the first thing you plan to do Easter morning? Wake up! Then eat some candy for breakfast before going to Mass (I’ll be sure to wait an hour!). This year, I offered to provide some food for the people who have to work at my husband’s office on Easter Sunday, so we have to run that up right after Mass. And then we’ll have a buffet spread at my house with Bill’s parents and siblings and two families whose head-of-house is deployed and any other bachelors (geo- or otherwise) that Bill knows.

Tag, You’re It!

Amy at Raising Angels
Maureen at Trinity Prep School
Michelle at Running Commentary (once a Catholic, always a Catholic!)

and I’d really like to know what Satan‘s plans are.

I freely admit I’m doing the easy stuff first.

A homily from the Gospel of Judas:

It’s ok that Judas betrayed Jesus, because he was helping in God’s plan for salvation.

And all my sins, past and present, are ok, because they brought me to where I am today and made me who I am, who I need to be, to fulfill God’s plan for me.

And all your sins, even the ones that hurt me, are ok, because you’re just fulfilling God’s plan for you.

In fact, you really don’t have any control over your life at all. Just do whatever, because God will manipulate whatever you do to fit His divine purposes.

Reality check: this makes no sense.

I spent years trying to prove Catholicism was WRONG. Once I started to test to see if it was RIGHT, I couldn’t get it to flunk. Of course, you have to follow an argument logically – you can’t jump into the middle of an issue like capital punishment and expect to find understanding. You could begin with capital punishment, but you’d have to work the logic backwards. It would take some time and patience. Or I suppose you could just read Thomas Aquinas who did much of that footwork for us.

But back to the Gospel of Judas. From a personal standpoint, everything sounds great. It’s OK if I commit adultery. God must have wanted me to have a relationship with this person or He wouldn’t have put him in my life. It’s OK if YOU commit adultery. It’s none of my business. But…is it OK if my husband commits adultery? If my marriage is the victim, could I be so happy to let God’s will be done? Of course not.

So, out goes Judas’ Gospel. It doesn’t make sense…not in a baffling God’s-mysterious-ways kind of way, but in a practical, everyday sort of way. “Treat others the way you want to be treated” – that works. “It’s OK to sin because it’s God’s will” – that doesn’t.

Yesterday I wished for the Army uniform in other colors. My husband informed me that I could get it here. Unfortunately, it’s the old-style uniform, and I think the new style is better. I’m considering the shorts, though. The pockets aren’t big enough for diapers, but they could hold just about everything else. Like I need to make my hips look wider…

…I didn’t see any sippy cups with carabiner clips, but I also got pretty bored looking at pages and pages of gear: camo face paint kits, bayonets, firestarters! This is not a website for boys between the ages of 10 and 15. Maybe I’ll get some tried and true canteens and hook them on. Bill has a Camelbak, but the kids with the crumb-filled mouths will likely gunk up the tubing.

Recently, Bill has been filling out a form to apply for a higher security clearance. You have to include the names, addresses and phone numbers of dozens of people: neighbors, friends, relatives. They want to know every address going back quite a number of years. They want to know people who knew you when you lived there. It’s insane.

Bill is helped by having filled it out several years ago and having kept that last form. So the names and addresses of neighbors from that house or this apartment are already done.

This afternoon, a man rang the doorbell. He presented an ID and asked if he could ask some questions about a neighbor. I guess our neighbor filled out a similar form for something – security clearance or a certain job or whatever. I don’t know if he used our name specifically, or if the man just drove to our neighborhood and looked for somebody who was home.

Have I ever seen him intoxicated?
Do I know if he drinks?
Uses drugs?

Does he live within his means?
Have foreign connections?
Is he married?
Is his wife American?

Has he ever tried to overthrow the government (we BOTH laughed at that question)?

What kind of reputation does he have?
Do I know of anyone trying to blackmail him?

I found it all pretty amusing, especially when I thought of someone being asked those questions of my husband.

So, folks, this is what people go through to get the top jobs, to get the top secrets. It’s kind of hard to get to the top in the government as a spy…it happens, I know. But this is the kind of scrutiny that’s given. Interesting.