Feel free to notify the local authorities about the dubious condition of my mental health.
Monthly Archives: July 2007
The Golden Rule
Yesterday we attended Mass at the chapel on post. It’s a relatively pretty chapel with lots of stained glass windows. I didn’t have a chance to observe what the windows depicted, and I am curious. The chapel is, by necessity, a non-denominational chapel, so permanent artwork like windows tends to be vaguely religious – for example, it may depict a soldier praying. All Catholic artwork is portable, so as to get the offending idols out of the area before the Protestant service. One thing I liked was that they brought in a tabernacle, where they placed the remaining host after Communion. But for the recessional, the priest removed the host and processed out of the chapel to place it in the permanent tabernacle wherever it is. There were three chapels at Fort Belvoir, and I’m not sure what they did at the two where the permanent chapel was not in the same building. I think they just shoved Jesus in the corner to deal with Him after Mass. At the third chapel, I think someone took the host out a side door and down the hall to the Blessed Sacrament Chapel immediately following Communion.
After Mass, the lady sitting in front of us turned and introduced herself since we were obviously new. I am very self-conscious about sticking out, but, even in a Catholic community, a family of seven plus is very noticeable. And for some reason I selected a flowery maternity dress that just made me feel very dowdy…one of those dresses that screamed Catholic Homeschool Mother. I mean no offense to those who wear flowery dresses, of course. I think it’s great that some women can pull off the look. I think it’s great that some women can live up to what that kind of look implies to me: healthy, homecooked meals; warm cookies served in the afternoon straight out of the oven; handmade dresses on the little girls with matching ribbons in their beautifully braided hair; a calm, nurturing demeanor. Not someone who maintains order by yelling at her kids and who is happy enough that her daughters’ faces are clean and their hair is somewhat combed.
The bulletin publishes how many people were in attendance at the previous week’s Mass. I don’t know how they count this. At Fort Belvoir, there were six Catholic Masses over the weekend and attendance generally was around 1500. Here, there are only two Masses (Saturday Vigil and Sunday morning). It’s summer break right now, so you can expect a lower attendance, of course. But they listed an attendance of 210. So, when my family comes and swells the ranks by 3 1/2 %, it’s a small wonder people notice us.
But you know it’s time to go to confession when the offertory hymn inspires feelings of guilt. The Gospel was about the Good Samaritan, a story heard many times, a parable I think I can confidently say I understand and heed. I help people in need. There have been times I couldn’t afford it, there were many times it was inconvenient, but I do this to the best of my ability.
The priest’s homily echoed the message, and I proudly reminded myself of some specific occasions where I had checked this block. I am your good and faithful servant, Lord.
Then came the offertory hymn, one I hadn’t heard in a long while: Whatsoever You Do.
When I was hungry, you gave me to eat.
When I was thirsty, you gave me to drink.
Now enter into the home of my Father.
When I was homeless, you opened your door.
When I was naked, you gave me your coat.
Now enter into the home of my Father.
Cool, I thought. Feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty: go to Heaven. I am so there. Again, images of specific acts of charity were recalled, and I was in danger of getting a bruise from patting myself on the back. But the refrain:
Whatsoever you do to the least of my people, that you do unto me.
Gotcha! taunted the little demon in my ear. Everything you do, you do to Jesus. Everything. Sure, buying a cheeseburger for a homeless man is like buying a cheeseburger for Jesus. I’m sure Jesus is right happy with that. But let’s go back to square one:
If the Child Jesus were tugging at my pant leg begging to be picked up, how would I treat Him? It doesn’t matter if my back aches and the thought of stooping down makes me cringe and I’m in the middle of making dinner. If it were the Child Jesus, would I ignore Him?
If the Child Jesus left his dirty clothes all over the bathroom floor, again, would I yell at Him, again, to pick them up or would I find a more polite way to request the same thing? He may be God, but he is still a child. And children, and most adults too, need to be told more than once to do something.
And speaking of adults needing to be told more than once to do something, if the Child Jesus requested a snack or something to drink, would I jump up right away, or would I tell Him to wait a minute while I finished my blog entry? And perhaps if the Child Jesus needed to wait in order to learn that He was not the Center of the Universe (ok, so He is, but the rest of us mere mortals are not), would I commit myself to getting up in the promised five minutes, or would I forget and need to be reminded?
If Jesus were the checkout clerk at the grocery store, would I be any nicer or happier to see Him?
If Jesus were the driver of that slow-moving vehicle, would I be any more patient?
It is so easy to think of all the good I’ve done and feel that I’m following the Golden Rule. But I can’t honestly say that I’m treating others the way I wish to be treated if I can’t honestly say that I would treat Jesus the same way I treat every person I encounter, including my own family.
Oh Lord, please judge me against an unholy nation.
Acclimation and re-acclimation
TV and radio stations begin with the letter “K”. I think, but I’m not positive, that America’s favorite carbonated beverage is called “pop” around here. And if the latest breaking headlines will be on at “eight-seven Central,” we’re in that Central time zone. Bill may actually be able to watch some Monday Night Football for a change.
If a sign says “left lane closed ahead,” cars in the left start to move over right away. And cars in the right actually let them. It takes about 20 to 30 minutes to get anywhere, but it’s because of the distance, not the traffic. I’m convinced that parking spaces around here are wider to accommodate the requisite big pickup truck or SUV.
I’ve yet to see a store open 24/7, and the locals aren’t up in arms over that fact. Stores are smaller and with fewer options. For the first time in my adult life, I bought American cheese that was yellow, because there was no white American cheese available.
Most of my Midwest living was as a child, but that’s where my heart is. Sure, I learned how to drive in Jersey and city streets and traffic don’t bother me. Sure, I fought my way through that hustle-bustle busy-ness that defines East Coast living and survived. Sure, I lived in a highly competitive and comparative environment where parents enrolled their children in enrichment programs from birth, sought the best preschools to give their children the edge for kindergarten, and kept the pressure up throughout their school years in order to get them into the best colleges, and I figured out how to balance that attitude with what was better for my family. If I have my family around me, I can be happy anywhere. But I think I can be happier here. Or at least more at ease.
I will admit that I am frustrated by rural shopping. The local stores are sufficient for most daily needs, and I’ll earn to live with yellow cheese, but there are a few items I’d like that I’d prefer a big selection: curtains, area rugs, stuff like that. It was nice to live close to many competing chains who had to offer a wide variety to draw people in. It was nice to go to huge grocery stores with 20 different international cheeses and whole aisles dedicated to imported specialty items (OK, I didn’t have that in Virginia, but I did in NJ). And it was nice to have the option of shopping late at night.
But I’m sure I’ll adapt. I’ll reorder my life in such a way that these things don’t bother me much. And I’ll continue to use online shopping for that 24/7 convenience and for a greater selection. And just when I’ve gotten used to this way of life, again, I’ll move right back to DC and have to relearn how to hurry up and keep busy.
Home, Sweet Chaotic Home
I don’t understand why people with wireless internet for their home don’t lock it to avoid other people from sapping their speed. I don’t understand it, but I am very grateful. Thank you, stranger, for making my web-surfing possible.
We got to Kansas without incident on Monday and picked out a house. I’m glad we didn’t wait much longer. Even though school doesn’t start for the soldiers for another month, most people seem to be getting here early, setting up house and taking vacation. There are only a few houses left in this neighborhood, and in another week or so, had we chosen to come that late, we probably would not have a choice. Not that there’s much choice, really. They’re all basically the same, with only personal improvements made by previous tenants. Some have nicer landscaping. Some have minor interior improvements. Ours has a room in the basement with linoleum flooring over the painted concrete and seven hooks hanging on the wall in the staircase going down. The seven hooks sealed the deal for the kids – we HAD to move in, it was MADE for us. For me, the room with the linoleum was a bonus. I think we’ll set up a school room down there.
Perhaps the best thing about the house is the location. Bill’s school is right here. The parking lots he would use if he had to drive are no closer than our front door. The grocery store on post (commissary) and gas station and, most importantly, the Class VI (where they sell the booze) are all very close. Our street is quiet, except for the sounds of children, especially boys engaged in light saber fights. Our back yard abuts a large communal property which is grassy and shaded and has a treehouse.
I’m certain we will be happy here.
While Bill signed the lease on the house, I called the transportation office with our new address to arrange delivery of our household goods. They told me next Monday, the 16th. I took that disappointing news with my usual stoicism, but resolved to go to the office in person the following morning to try to finagle something else (it was late afternoon, it was brutally hot, and I had 5 kids and a dog crammed in the van – now was not the time).
Another of the soldiers in the lease signing meeting happened to get the house right across the street from us. As we both got to our new homes around the same time, Bill overheard the neighbor bragging about how his wife went to transportation in person and managed to get a delivery of their stuff for the very next day. “You’ve got to go down there,” he told me. “I’m planning to,” I replied. “Wear that blue shirt,” he suggested. The blue shirt is a very fashionable one which happens to accentuate my, um, hormonally enhanced chest. I remarked that it may be a woman who helped me, but he felt that I looked cutely pregnant as well, and the shirt would “work” for any gender. So, yes, my husband blatantly suggested I flaunt my pregnant sex appeal in an effort to get our stuff delivered early.
As an aside, while at the zoo last week, we saw the hippos. They have a window where you can watch them swim. “They look so graceful,” Bill remarked. I think the husbands of pregnant women have a skewed idea of graceful and sexy.
But I did wear the blue shirt, and I did go down there first thing Tuesday morning, and I did get our delivery moved to the very next day.
And now, I am living with boxes as my main element of decoration. I slept in my own bed, although it didn’t help much with my lower back which I think I strained yesterday. I am getting old. The telephone and cable people come today, so I’ll have my own internet connection and won’t have to live off the generosity of others. And I really hope to get my kitchen unpacked so we can eat simple, but homecooked, food for the first time in a while.
But now I’m off to a place called The Daily Grind. I used the very last of my coffee to make a weak half-pot for Bill and I, and we need something a bit better to get through the day.
St. Louis – a traveler’s diary
I’ll not claim “high-spirits” or chipper moods, but everyone is a little less grouchy now that we’ve recovered from the second leg of our journey. Our last bit of traveling across the state of Missouri is tomorrow, and should “only” take about 5 hours or so with the car in tow. I have high hopes that by Wednesday night I’ll be sleeping on my own bed.
We’ll not manage to get to everything on our to-see list, but we will have done a lot. I’ll include links for future reference and for all those Googlers who key in “visiting St. Louis with little children – things to do in three days.” Pictures will have to wait until I get my computer, and, more importantly, get an internet connection. That might be a while.
Friday morning, we visited The Arch. There is a Museum of Westward Expansion underneath which Bill and the kids visited while I stood in line for tickets to the top. Lots of stuffed animals and “talking robots,” as Billy described excitedly. After the unique ride to the top, everybody enjoyed the views of the Mississippi River and St. Louis. I give The Arch experience 7 thumbs up.
We stopped in for a brief prayer at The Old Cathedral. This is the oldest Catholic church west of the Mississippi. Simple, elegant beauty. We walked past The Old Courthouse of Dred Scott decision fame, but did not go in.
That afternoon, we went to the Saint Louis Zoo. We got there late enough that even the parking was free. Definitely 7 thumbs up on this. And although to children a zoo is a zoo is a zoo, I appreciated the shady walkways throughout the park (in contrast, all I remember about the Cleveland Zoo is the blazing sun) and the pathway in one section was made to look like dried mud with pawprints and leafprints and other such decorations along the way. Very nice.
Yesterday morning, we went to the Anheuser-Busch Factory for their tour. Bill liked it. Fritz and Katie didn’t seem to have any complaints, but the one-hour tour was too long for Billy and Jenny. Pete was fine as long as I was holding/carrying him – an exhausting reality that limited my own enjoyment. One disappointment was that the filling and packaging line we viewed was down. The kids would have thought it much cooler to see bottles whirling around at high speeds. The tour includes some neat history of St. Louis, the beer industry, and life in these United States, so you don’t have to like beer to like the tour. In fact, even if you are a beer snob like my husband, you might find the factory experience interesting. Note: I did not see my husband turning his nose up at the free samples at the end. For ages 5 and up, I give it 4 out of 5 thumbs up.
After naps, we went to Grant’s Farm, owned by the Busch family. You take a tram ride through Deer Park, where you get to see lots of free-ranging animals – some quite close to the road. At the farm itself, you can pet goats and chickens and view an assortment of other animals from Bald Eagles to elephants to camels. One or two hours is plenty of time for this venture, entrance is free, and parking is only $8. At the other side of the parking lot are stables and pastures for the Clydesdale horses owned and bred by the Busch family. Pretty things. This stop (farm and stables) was a big hit: another 7 thumbs up.
Not too far from Grant’s farm, we located one of the two Ted Drewes frozen custard stands. Having seen the movie Cars (twice in the last week alone), we were all interested to discover that the stand we went to on Chippewa is on a section of the historic Route 66. We didn’t know enough to try a legendary “concrete” – a bit like ordering a coffee at Starbucks is how Bill described them – but what we did eat went down with no complaints. 7 thumbs up! And a side note, should you ever get married in St. Louis, it is apparently customary to head on over to Drewes after the reception in your fancy clothes. It seems they give away free custard to the wedding party, and we were able to see, not one, but two brides and their entourages.
This morning we attended Mass at The New Cathedral. Breathtaking. Here is a link to the inside. It’s filled with mosaics. I’ve been in plenty of gorgeous churches in the world, and this one held it’s ground. I’ll give this stop 2 thumbs up from the adults. The kids did seem to admire the art as well, but a church is a church is a church and there is no F-U-N in that. One day, they’ll appreciate it.
Pete is just about done with his nap, and Bill and the kids should be back soon from The Science Center. I hope they had fun. I also hope they get back in time for us to dash off to The Missouri Botanical Gardens. That would conclude our sight-seeing adventures in St. Louis. There’s more we could have done, if our kids were older, if we pushed hard to get out the door earlier, if we didn’t stop for naps or meals. But maybe we’ll just come back another time.
In conclusion, if you enjoy urban travels for your long weekend getaways, I recommend St. Louis as a spot with plenty to do, even with five little kids in tow.
Riding in cars with boys and girls
It was close to dinner time yesterday, and we were still about an hour away from our destination. I looked over at Bill and said, “So tell me…I died, and this is Purgatory, right?” It couldn’t have been Hell. I still had tremendous Hope that the misery would end…eventually.
Wednesday morning at breakfast, Jenny turned her big, beautiful eyes on me and asked, “What will Daddy and you do when we’re all grown up?”
For starters, we will not take long car trips with children under the age of 5.
Jenny spent every waking moment yesterday complaining. I did not think it was possible for a child so young to be able to keep up a grouchy mood for so long. Surely, I thought, she’ll just give up and fall asleep. But no, from sun up to sun down was a continuous monologue about how unhappy she was.
Imagine: I’m hungry. (inhale) I’m hungry. (inhale) I’m hungry. (inhale)
Attempting to offer snacks simply generated fifteen minutes of frustration while she expressed her displeasure about the available options and listed all sorts of choices available to someone with a fully stocked kitchen, but not readily accessible to those trapped inside a 12 passenger van.
The next hour might have been I want to watch something else over and over again as all four of her siblings happily watched a new video. The promise that she could pick the next video did not pacify her, although the promise that if she didn’t cut out the complaining would guarantee that she would not pick out the next video bought us about 20 minutes of quiet.
Of course, we did our best to ignore her, but we’re not deaf, and by dinner time the persistent little stream of annoyance had eroded every last bit of civility in my normally doting mother’s heart.
They say we’ll miss these days. Hmmm.
Right now, Bill is at the hotel pool with the older three, and Jenny and Peter are concluding their much needed naps. We’ve been to the top of the Arch and inside the Old Cathedral today. If good moods prevail, we may go to the zoo which is open until 7 pm. The one good thing about having little ones is that budgeting only 2 hours for the zoo or any other museum or venture is realistic. We know we won’t see it all, but that’s ok, we know better than to try to.
Here’s one thing I just don’t get. The Old Courthouse near the Arch is where the Dred Scott decision was made. They are “commemorating” the 150th anniversary of this ruling. Why? I’m all for remembering just how stupid judges can be, lest we forget and make the same mistakes again. {Ah, who am I kidding? We don’t learn…and Roe v. Wade is proof.} But the air around the courthouse seems to make the Dred Scott ruling a cause for celebration.
Perhaps, someday, when my kids are all grown up, I’ll be able to stop in at exhibits like that and see why they want to keep the horrid memory alive. For now, though, I’ll offer up all my suffering for the conversion of those who consider other people to be of less worth than they. That may be the only thing that helps Jenny reach her fourth birthday.
Happy Independence Day
From rain soaked Columbus, Ohio.
We had a lovely day at a local park with my brother, sister-in-law and niece before the deluge. My uncle and aunt even drove down from Louisville, Ohio to see us. I hadn’t seen my uncle and aunt since Peter’s baptism (they are his godparents), but I have been happiest to see my brother and his family. The last time I saw them was over three years ago when their daughter and Jenny were infants.
Our time here in Ohio is too short. We leave tomorrow for St. Louis, where we plan to spend four nights. I’m not sure if we’ll make it there with our sanity still intact. Jenny and Petey have been most out of sorts, and even the older kids are a bit…touchy. It’s a bit rough, emotionally, to be homeless, to not have your stuff, to not be able to run around like a lunatic since you’re living in a hotel and your parents think you ought to be respectful of other people who just might not be interested in your antics.
As for me, I miss my mattress terribly. I never sleep well on other beds. And it’s possible, with all the packing and hauling around of boxes and other things, that I pulled something in my back. I’m just not comfortable.
But despite the short tempers, the achy back, the clingy little ones, and the bickering older ones, I am enjoying this time together. I’m loving this adventure, where I have no forwarding address (yet), no schedule to keep, and minimal guilt about late bedtimes, late wakeups, and poor nutrition on the part of us all. It’s just one week, and we’ll be back to a new state of normal soon enough.
And as for all the little highlights of my life in the last three days – and there have been many interesting goings-on – I’ll never get all the details down, and won’t even try. We did manage to leave town without too much trouble (just a last minute discovery of two kitchen cupboards the packers overlooked!), and our drive to Ohio through that narrow section of Maryland between Pennsylvania and Virginia/West Virginia was picturesque and blessedly uneventful, although quite slow given that our van is towing our other car. Besides just hanging out with family, I had the pleasure of spending a few hours on Sarah‘s farm, which just happens to be a kids’ paradise: big yard, trampoline, toys, barn, livestock, minimal traffic, and bologna in the fridge. What more could a kid need?
It’s a top priority of mine to get Pete some naps while we’re in St. Louis. Hopefully, this will also give me a chance to do some blogging. We’ll see. Another top priority is actually using my camera. I want to kick myself that I didn’t get it out even once while seeing my family and have no pictures to prove that we actually spent time with my niece during her childhood. Of course, having a cranky toddler or a clingy preschooler constantly in my lap or pulling on my leg might have had something to do with distracting me from photo-journalistic opportunities.
And now, with all the kids and even the dog asleep, I head to bed myself.
New Month’s Resolution for July
It’s a new month, and time for a new resolution. Last month I resolved to cut up that extra fabric and get a head start on my Christmas stockings. I cut out about 50, which is about 1/3 of the job. Not too bad. The great thing about these resolutions is that they are just for one month, and I can forget about it now, and stop beating myself up for not finishing it.
This month will be busy enough with traveling and unpacking, finding the local shopping areas, locating the chapel on post, and just figuring out how to get from Point A to Point B. But I still think I can squeeze in a simple resolution. This month I’m going to get Pete a new bed and transition him into it. Usually, I just get a real twin size bed when it’s time for the baby to give up the crib, but his room will still need to fit the crib for the new addition. A regular bed will take up too much room, so I think a toddler bed will be best. There’s no way I’d buy a new one, especially since I see them for sale used all the time. I’ll have to be patient, and maybe do a little extra leg work – possibly even go out early on a sultry Saturday morning and hit some yard sales. Or I’ll just pray that the thrift shop on post had a nice one donated and I’m the lucky first person to spot it.
That’s it for me. Have you got a new month’s resolution? Nothing too challenging – it’s summer break after all. Let me know!
Is this me or what?
Kristen Laurence tagged me to do this. Here I am just trying to check bloglines on Bill’s laptop before we hit the road. Is it too much to ask for a little time on the computer? What do you mean we can’t get a wireless connection in the car? All right, I’m coming already.
Reit This Way 