I only got up at 620 this morning because I could hear Jenny get up and I don’t think it’s a good idea for a 2 year old to wander around the house alone. Bad things tend to happen when the tornado-baby is unsupervised.

So I’m up and checking the weather forecast (currently predicting 8 to 14 inches…cool) on the internet. jenny is sitting on the couch watching Playhouse Disney. She looks up and asks me, “Why you no clean room, Mommy?”

Why didn’t I straighten up the living room before I went to bed last night? It wasn’t that bad: several pairs of shoes, a few baby toys, and a magazine littered the floor. I normally DO pick this stuff up at night. I hated the sight of the room when I stumbled down, but I was really tired last night. In fact, I was sleeping in the glider rocker as I put Petey down, so I stumbled down last night to spend time with my husband (who was standing in the parking lot talking to a co-worker when I finally called his cell phone to see where he was. I could rant about this, but there is simply no point).

So, I wasn’t sure whether I should be pleased that my normal standard of housekeeping was noticed and appreciated by my toddler or whether I should feel that the nagging was starting early today. I finally just told her that I had been tired and that SHE should clean up.

So she did.

She just couldn’t do Daddy’s boots because they were too heavy (the things weigh about 20 pounds, I swear). But everything else she found a spot for. I should put her to work more often.

My email is down, so I feel cut off from civilization.

Tomorrow’s big dinner got canceled due to the impeding snow storm. Whimps.

Actually, I was dreading wearing those strappy-nothing new shoes out in the slush.

Bill flew to West Virignia, but he made it back to his office ok. He called 45 minutes ago to say he just had to check email and he’d be on his way home.

I guess he had a LOT of email to check. I just want the weekend to start. Since our Saturday night plans are off, but we have a babysitter scheduled anyway, maybe we’ll do something else. Of course, if the BIG SNOW comes (and here in Virginia that means more than a half inch), everything will be closed, which is actually a good thing, since nobody in Virginia knows how to drive (in any kind of weather).

When Fritz was a baby, I had to teach myself some lullabys. I found the words to “Lullaby and Goodnight” and memorized them, and that one became a favorite. In fact, the boys still request a lullaby at night. Fortunately, The Dad is now an acceptable performer. And Princess Cupcake (Katie) has been recently requesting one too, after years of hiatus, more in an effort to delay bedtime than anything else.

By the time Katie was born, I was so overwhelmed with motherhood that I needed more than “Rock-a-bye Baby”. I began to sing hymns and prayers. I have a very distinct memory of nursing Katie to sleep while sitting on the floor of the boys’ bedroom. Fritz slept, but Billy (only 18 months old when Katie was born) refused to cooperate. I would sing the Divine Mercy Chaplet. I needed Divine Mercy.

From that time, my two favorite lullabys became “Immaculate Mary” and “Hail Mary – Gentle Woman.” I liked them both for the quiet melody and the ability to repeat the verses over and over and interchangeably. And of course, I liked the fact that I was praying at the same time. In fact, there were days that those were my only “good” prayers. The rest of my praying seemed to be a desperate cry for help, alternating with screaming at my kids.

There is a verse from “Gentle Woman” that goes: “Blessed are you among women/ blessed in turn all women too/ Blessed they with peaceful spirits/ Blessed they with gentle hearts.” There were many many times that these lines reduced me to sobbing for I knew that my spirit was not peaceful and my heart was not gentle (hence the screaming at my kids). I begged Mary to help me obtain the grace to have these virtues.

Last night I was nursing the baby to sleep in the glider rocker and I began to sing “Gentle Woman.” It was a quiet moment: the boys were bouncing around in their room, but Bill was in charge and they were settling down; the girls were talking and looking at books in their room as they prepared to sleep; and little Pete was drowsy and happy. There was no pressure of a sink full of dishes (oh, they were there, I just didn’t worry about them), there was no wishing that the baby would hurry up and sleep so I could get on with my evening, there was no urgent request for a cup of water or just for mommy’s presence. There was just a happy baby, drifting off to sleep at his mother’s breast while listening to her softly lift her heart up to God.

And as I sang, I listened to those words and I remembered those stressful days and I realized: my prayers had been answered. My spirit was peaceful and my heart gentle. Yes, I still scream at the kids. But not all the time and not with that same desperation. Yes, there are nights when everybody needs me, and only me. And yes, there are many nights when I wish the baby would go to sleep (and the toddler too), so I could get the dishes done and maybe read a chapter in a book or have a half hour of conversation with my husband before my bedtime. But not all the time. Now I have many nights were I can quietly sing to the baby and just enjoy those precious few minutes that will soon disappear never to return.

I just added on the sidebar links to poems the kids are working on. Billy just started his poem last week. I love RLS. His poems for children truly capture the workings of a child’s mind. They are fabulous and easy to memorize.

Fritz has been working on his poem for WEEKS. It’s a tough poem. It has a tricky rhyme scheme which makes it harder to remember. I admit, it took me at least a week to get comfortable reading it, and although I have it memorized if I can go through it without stopping, I have a hard time starting halfway through.

But over these weeks, I’ve really grown to appreciate this poem. I’m glad it has taken so long for him to learn it, and I’ve really grown to appreciate the exercise of memorizing poetry in general. I’ve spent quite a bit of time comtemplating who the narrator is, what really happened to the dog and cat, and if the audience believes the narrator’s story.

When I was in the 2nd and 3rd grades, I had to memorize a poem for school. I won my class’s poetry contest and had to go on to compete in front of the entire school for 1st – 3rd grade champion. I won both times, had my picture in the paper – my 2 minutes of fame (alas, that was the end of it). I didn’t think it was a big deal, but now I do. Memorizing poetry is a dying practice.

I stopped working for a paycheck over 6 years ago. I got rid of most of my professional wardrobe, keeping only a few suits that I could wear to weddings or funerals or just in case someone hired me for a speaking engagement (haha). I also kept my nice shoes: two pairs of modest, practical pumps (one navy, one black). They weren’t cheap shoes, but I have gotten my use out of them. And Bill is very handy with polish and can make them look like brand new. But they are modest, practical pumps – maybe a 1 1/2″ heel. Nothing fancy or decorative. And I have worn them to every dressy function I’ve been to in the last 6 years.

So, now there’s this formal dinner on Saturday which is no more special than any other formal dinner I’ve been to, but I got a new dress and decided that I should get some new shoes to go with it. I went to Walmart and they had EXACTLY what I was looking for: 3″ heels, barely something there over the toes and another barely there strap around the ankles to keep the things on. Perfect. Oh, and the price was perfect too: $8.92. Can’t beat that.

And the best part was the look of shock on Bill’s face. “I never would have expected you to wear something like that,” he said. I don’t know why. Doing something unexpected is just like me.

Princess Happycakes (that would be Jenny) can’t wait for her birthday. My “happycakes” coming soon, Mom? she queries multiple times every day. Sure it’s coming soon, I tell her. Eight months really isn’t a long time. But then I remind her of all the other birthdays to come first: Billy’s, mine, Fritz’s, Petey’s, Katie’s, Daddy’s and then finally hers. In other words, she had the most recent birthday in our immediate family and has to wait the longest. But time does fly, for us grownups at least, so it will be her birthday before we know it. Heck, I’m afraid to go to sleep at night for worry that I’ll wake up and one of my kids will be heading off to college.

Just kidding. I’m so tired at the end of the day that it is no trouble at all for me to fall asleep. Usually I lay my head down and think, “Dear God, thank you for…..zzzzzz”

Speaking of birthdays, all of my kids are born in the second half of the month. {mental note: plan better next pregnancy} This means that it hits a child’s birth month, for example, Billy’s birthday is the 25th of this month, and we all suffer through the agony of waiting for all those days to pass. Well, the birthday child suffers and the rest of us suffer listening to his suffering. February is the l.o.n.g.e.s.t month of the year because there are no distractions in the weeks leading up to the “big day.” At least for Christmas, there is decorating and baking and shopping. For the spring and summer birthdays, we can do stuff outdoors and keep the mind off the calendar. But February is just one long month of wait.

Only 17 more days.

wow. I just noticed that the forecast for today’s weather is calling for scattered flurries. Is it really winter? Gee…with all the balmy 60 degree days, I swore it was spring.

I just put the baby down for a nap in his crib. He’s asleep, but his eyes are open.

Freaky.

It was a very busy and highly emotional weekend. We are all glad to be home.

Saturday morning, Fritz made his first Reconciliation. It was nice. But, as usual for me, I struggled to rein in those tears that always come when he, my oldest, meets a milestone. I cried when I packed away those 0-3 month sized clothes when he was a few weeks old. I cried when he cut his first tooth. I cried when he lost his first tooth. And now here he is, examining his conscience and doing his penance. He diligently wrote down his sins on Friday, recounting them to his father and I with every confidence of our continuing love (of course, we knew everything). I had him go to the elderly priest who baptized Peter. He gave Fritz a beautiful prayer card with Mary on it when Fritz was done. It was a wonderful morning.

Then home as it’s starting to rain. Pack up the car and off to New Jersey to visit old friends. As we neared Monica’s house where we stayed, we made a slight detour to pass St. Greg’s and swing through our old neighborhood. Billy started to cry about missing NJ, but my words of comfort were no help since I was crying too. Bill just smiled and shook his head and squeezed my hand. Pitiful.

Sunday began with mass and standing in the vestibule talking. Then brunch with Bill’s parents, then over to Lena’s house and then on to Kathy’s house for her huge Superbowl party (and the reason we made the trip). Oh how I miss these women. Where else can I stand around the kitchen talking apologetics? Back to Monica’s house and a relaxing Monday morning talking about homeschooling and politics and religion.

This was better than a trip to a spa.

Not that I’ve ever been to a spa.

But better.

After lunch, we headed to another friend’s house that was on the way home and had dinner. We got home really late last night, but the kids all transitioned into their beds with no fuss.

And today is clean up and organize day. The kids will be happy to have another day off from school. It’s an administrative holiday.