Lacrosse...not what you find in a LaChurch

Yesterday when I picked up the kids from school we walked toward the field where Lacrosse practice takes place. Ana's walking has slowed us way down...her steps are small and slow and she insists on stopping every few feet to just look around. So we ended up lingering in front of the Lacrosse field. Doug is the head coach of our Lacrosse team and I realized I have never seen the sport being played. So I decided to watch for a few minutes. It is a curious sport. It actually reminds me of a bunch of sports mixed up. The uniform resembles a football uniform with pads and helmets. But the players carry sticks with little nets at the end in order to catch and pass this tiny ball. The ball is about half the size of a tennis ball and about as heavy as a bowling ball. Not quite that heavy but you DO NOT want to get hit with that. Lacrosse is also a bit like soccer and hockey; with a goalie defending the net, (though the net is much narrower)and the way the ball is passed between players and the amount of running involved. I watched Doug coach the players through a couple drills and then we left. I have to admit I still have no idea how Lacrosse is played I guess on Feb. 16th I will find out.

Scroll all the way down to the end of my blog. I found these here and thought these tickers were so adorable! The cool thing is they don't just count down to birthdays or due dates. You can count down to an anniversary, a vacation or anything you are looking forward to.

One of today's readings from 1Corinthians is probably one of the most used readings for weddings. And rightly so it is all about love.
Today at Mass I was praying about why it seems despite my best intentions to live this model of love in my own life I too often find myself acting the exact opposite of it? Then it hit me, an understanding of why that happens. When I read "Love is patient, Love is kind. It is not jealous, it is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth," I think to myself yes this sounds like the way I would love to be loved and how I will strive to love. But in real life it is acted out more like "this sounds like the way I want to be loved and just as soon as I am loved this way then I will love this way too." Whoa that is selfish and wow does the truth hurt. But it is true I so often use Doug's imperfect love for me as an excuse to love him imperfectly too. Thank goodness Jesus didn't have this attitude, "I will love and die for them when first I know they will love and die for me."

I remember very clearly the first year of our marriage. It was very difficult because we still had so much to learn about each other...we only dated 3 months before eloping. Actually it was like living with a very good looking stranger. Anyway, I would get so hurt and upset when Doug failed to be the perfect person I so desperately wanted. I would think to myself, if only he would be more understanding, I could be more understanding. I was waiting for him to show me the virtues of this selfless love before I would dispense an ounce if it back to him. So we lived like this but during this same time I was also keeping a daily journal. And I remember once being so mad at him over something and I went for a drive with my journal. I went to my favorite place the grand mesa. It had gorgeous views, but most of all peace and quiet. It was there that instead of writing about anything I opened my journal and started reading. There I found an entry that I had written on one of those days I had felt so gaga in love with him. A day when everything about him was perfect to me and love abounded between us. It was simple really, we were very poor during this time and he had gone to the drugstore to buy us a few items and as I was putting them away I noticed he had bought the specific brands of items I had requested for me and for himself he purchased the generic brands. This sounds so trivial but the selflessness of that quick decision spoke loudly of his love to give me what I wanted in spite of his own wants. I cried when I remembered that day. And I cry today when I think of it. My life with Doug has been filled with simple moments like that: Him reaching over me to check and make sure my seat belt is on when we are on car trips, him thinking I am asleep and gently removing my glasses and kissing my cheek goodnight, refusing to argue back with me when I am provoking, and the way regardless of the way we fight always hugging me tight soon after. These are our 1 Corinthians moments but if you blink they are gone. If they are not kept close during a marriage, they can so easily be lost pushed out by the injuries done to one another that are not so easy to forget. I clearly saw then and now, that he has loved me perfectly not all the time but sometimes. And I must think of those times when he is not loving me perfectly and try really hard to love him regardless. Can I expect the same in return from him? Well of course not the way I expect it, but always in his own way he does.


"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."

You think your so smart. But I've seen you naked.
(to quote a Barenaked ladies song "Blame it on Me" and one of Doug's most favorite quotes)

I got the link below from Minnesota Mom's blog (I added her to my blogs I read sidebar)and thought it was interesting. I scored a 3. But I know I have an unfair disadvantage because I am pregnant and my brain is on hiatus. Just yesterday I gave a friend our phone number, the only problem? It was wrong! And I couldn't figure out why she didn't call me back! Duh!


Intelligence Quiz

Prayer of Saint Francis de Sales
patron saint of authors, journalists, writers

Lord, I am yours,
and I must belong to no one but you.
My soul is yours,
and must live only by you.
My will is yours,
and must love only for you.
I must love you as my first cause,
since I am from you.
I must love you as my end and rest,
since I am for you.
I must love you more than my own being,
since my being subsists by you.
I must love you more than myself,
since I am all yours and all in you.
AMEN.

I have been trying to have a very simple conversation with Doug about our household for over a week but life just kept getting in the way. First, Ana's accident..then we had unexpected company on Saturday, Sunday we spent out as a family then Doug had spent the evening working on preparing for Lacrosse. Lately we have even been going to Mass separately, him with the two older kids in the morning and me alone at night. I know that we should bring Ana to Mass with us but with her new found freedom in walking she will not stay anywhere very long. It is selfish of me to want to go alone but I get to really pray and lately I've felt it really necessary. So it has been, we live together yet an hour with my husband feels impossible. Last night was yet another baton hand off, he came in from practice and I left 15 minutes later for my meeting. When I was driving home last night around 9:30 I felt relieved when I thought about the chaos I left 2 1/2 hours before. The whirlwind of our household at dinnertime; kids talking, laughing, dinner being served and a very tired Ana. And how it would all be taken care of when I walked into the door. My home would be quiet and still. The kids in bed, kitchen clean, no toys on the floor. Indeed it was and there was Doug quietly studying his Lacrosse stuff for tomorrow. It was so peaceful. It was then I realized I am experiencing the blessings of a marriage in it's stride. We are both so often too busy to talk the way we used to and yet our connection is still strong. Like a perfectly coached team we work together day in and out to accomplish what has taken us years to figure out. The early years where we spent growing and learning the fundamentals of what would become our way of life. Over time the simple obedience to those fundamentals have turned them into our habits. So second nature have our lives become as one that constant talk isn't necessary or even feasible sometimes. Lately I have really noticed our actions pick up where the other leaves off. When we are in the kitchen together on a weekend preparing a familiar meal we almost don't say a word yet we are communicating. His actions working with mine to put it all together. And so last night we had that conversation finally. Even though we hit a stride for now our lives are always changing and so must we.

Finally a piece in the Sports section that is of interest to both Doug and I.

Click here

I remember after I had Ana my OB came in to check in on us while we were still in the hospital. He told me "it is so refreshing to see a young family so open to life. Your children are your greatest blessings." Turns out he has 7 kids and he told me they give him the greatest joy in his life. I was so happy because he was a very good OB but I had never talked to him about faith. It was refreshing to get the sense that a Doctor understood our choices even respected them. So when we discovered that Socha baby #4 was silently growing inside of me, I did not yet have an OB. I remember the afternoon I was looking at my choices of OB's in our area, I had no recommendations from anyone, and I was confused & frustrated about how I would chose the right one. That is when I decided to let God choose for me. I called our diocese and I asked if they had a directory for Catholic OB's in our area. I asked half expecting them to say "Sorry, but we don't do that" but to my surprise they told me they had a few. I got their names and numbers and started my search. The first one was in Miami. Too far. The second one was no longer in practice. Suddenly all my hope started to slip away. Then I called the third. He was a recent convert to the faith (Cool..converts know the faith better than most) and he was in Jupiter not quite that far, I could definitely drive out there once a month, and he took our type of insurance! So I checked his credentials; no malpractice suits filed, or anything questionable. I made an appointment.
He is an older man who used to be a Protestant, he told me as a scientist he needed proof of everything in regard to his faith. But through personal study he discovered too many unanswered questions and he very reluctantly found those answers in the Catholic Church. He converted a little over 5 years ago and I have to say he is truly on fire with the Lord. He sat with me for quite awhile and talked to me about his pilgrimages to Israel, his parish and ministry (he's a Eucharistic minister and Lector and is now heading up the RCIA program) and shared with me what he was currently reading. On his desk were copies of the Magnificat and a very worn out Bible. He says he faces struggles in his vocation all the time in conflict with his faith. But he is trying which is more than most. So this is the man that God-willing will deliver our baby. Above all this, I just feel blessed to think that I can ask my Dr to join me in prayer while I am in labor. My mother always prays with me while I am in labor, she will recite prayers or the rosary during the most crucial times of my delivery and this is always a great comfort to me.

I am so amazed when I see how quickly Ana has adapted to her bandaged hand. Since she is unable to make her signs with both hands she has begun to use her chest or head. I was worried about asking her a question that she would be able to sign a reply because I thought she wouldn't know what to do. But she adapted so easily as if she has never had that hand at all. Even when she plays or looks at a book she rests her bandaged hand off to the side and her right hand is in overdrive.
Is it so easy for her to adapt because she is just a baby and has a short memory of being able to use both hands? I don't know, but the quiet way she just goes on about her normal activities finding new ways to do what she used to is really inspiring. I think it gets harder for me to adapt to new situations because I am older and I hold on to memories or lost expectations a lot longer than I should. Instead of finding a new way to do something I will frustrate myself thinking about or trying to make the old way work. It really is quite simple actually; When you don't have what you used to, just use what you do have. Thanks Ana for helping me realize that!

Because Ana is now walking, she will follow us around sometimes unknown to us. Last night Ana was following her sister out the garage door but Camryn didn't know and slammed the door shut on Ana's left middle finger. I was at a meeting at our church and got the worst call you can get. Doug told me he was taking her to the emergency room. When I arrived she was asleep in her fathers arms he was covered in blood, she was covered in blood. So much blood I thought it was far worse. But it was just one little finger. I never saw the finger Doug wouldn't let me. He took her into the X-rays (Thank God it missed the bone) and into the operating room where they stiched it back together.
Where were Cade and Camryn? Our good friend Steve who we were having over for dinner took them home fed them and put them to bed so we could stay with Ana. What a blessing he was last night. The emergency room visit lasted 4 1/2 hours because when Doug arrived an ambulance carrying four children who got in a car accident arrived too. But Ana was tough she never cried only when they gave her the shot to numb her hand. She even fell asleep again while the doctor was putting in her stitches. Doug said the doctor did an amazing job that her finger resembles itself again. He told me later he thought she would lose part of it. The nurses said she was an angel not crying and smiling at everyone. Doug keeps saying how tough she is. I wish I could be. When we finally got her in her bed it was 1:30 a.m. and the pain medicine wore off an hour later. Finally she cried and screamed and tried to pull her bandages off, thinking they were causing her the pain. I held her all night and she cried in between moments of sleep. And so did I. I wish I could take her pain from her.
She is finally sleeping now. Say a prayer for her for a quick healing and no complications. We have to visit a hand surgeon this week to make sure everything is ok.

It's Back!

Am I the only one excited for American Idol to start tonight??!!

Ughh!

My white sheets and duvet cover met with a lost red crayon in the dryer. Then, when I came to terms with that met with Cade's bloody elbow and knee from a bicycle accident. There is no one to blame, but somehow it just makes me feel better to write it down here. It is times like this that I feel I am just not allowed to have nice things. Somehow they always get ruined so what is the point?! I think this is a common frustration among mothers with young kids. I have heard too many stories from my friends and sisters with similiar stories to know it is not just me or my family. But still I envy those with perfectly together homes that don't look lived in. That look perpetually clean, walls fingerprint free and furniture that isn't sticky. Is it too much to ask that for one day our home could be that way too? And then I think yes but I guess we would all be on vacation because we couldn't possibly be living there if it were clean. Or maybe my children wouldn't be living there. I remember the days when it was just Doug and I and my house would indeed stay clean for days even weeks on end! But there were also no sticky hands looking for mine for first steps across a room, or sand on my floors emptied out from shoes that spent the afternoon at the park. It was also very quiet, too quiet. No belly laughter from kids being tickled by their dad, no first words, or the best words like "Love you, Mom". And it was cold. No artwork proudly displayed on my walls, no pictures on my fridge, no storybooks left on the tables. So I guess I do have nice things after all. Actually the best you can be given; three little people who love me way more than I deserve and who are growing up way too fast.

Please Pray..

..For the safe delivery and health of my friend Jenny who is having a Cesarean today.

Lord mercifully grant a happy delivery for Jenny today. Help her husband be a source of strength and compassion for her. Guide her doctor's hands at all times and may all their work bring the baby safely into the world. I ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DANI!


















Today is my sister-in-law Dani's 27th Birthday. When I first met her she was a tough 15 year old, wildly popular, and a bit arrogant. She has known me most of my adult life and I can only imagine what she's thought of me through the years! Back then I never thought we would end up being as good friends as we are today. Over the years I am honored to say that I have witnessed her transformation like a caterpillar to a beautiful butterfly of a woman. Her juvenile toughness changed into a mature quiet strength, her popularity, to a true loyal friend and her arrogance into a humility that always encourages me. She is easy to talk to and a person I can share any aspect of my life with and I do. She always offers me a perspective rooted in faith and I value her advice. I am so blessed to have her in my life and watching her as a mother with her quiet confidence and loving style I have no doubt her daughter is blessed to have her too. We all Love you Dani have a wonderful, happy, happy Birthday!!

I have been doing a lot of writing lately so naturally I have been reading a lot of Pablo Neruda, my favorite poet. There is something about that Chiliean Poet that makes my creative juices start to boil. In college whenever I felt myself struggling with writer's block I'd let Neruda cast his poetic nets over me. It always worked, still does.
I was introduced to Neruda by a 50-ish bartender named Mary when we lived in Colorado. I was very young, newly married, not sure who I was or what I was doing with my life. Mary was loud, confident and amazing. She often invited me to her beautiful house over looking a breathtaking desert landscape. Her home was an artist sanctuary, filled with paintings, pottery and her beautiful Gourds that she dried and decorated. She sewed her own dresses, was an exquisite cook who would make me dishes like crowned lamb with mint or gazpacho. We would sip wine on her porch staring at the red colored mesa and I listened intently to her stories about this life she lived. She spoke French, and shared her photos of her beautiful mother and grown daughter who she raised alone. She spoke so vulnerably about love and loss. She helped me realize that I needed to seek out and hold on to what makes me thrive, to love my life no matter what. She was a strong woman, a beautiful lady and she had a soft heart for poetry. One night she threw a book on my lap. "Take this, it belongs to you" she said. It was Neruda's 'Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair'. That book literally changed my life. I read and reread those poems. I fell in love with Neruda's sweet, intimate verse, my heart broke over the details that he noticed that never get seen but live within all of us. Shortly after, I enrolled in college,changed my major from Communications to English with an emphasis on Creative Writing. I guess that is why he is my favorite poet. No other's work ellicets such emotion the 1st, 10th, or 80th time I read it. His words cause a stirring in my soul that won't rest until I think and write my way out of it.

Years ago, at a book signing in LA for one of my favorite authors Isabelle Allende, who also happens to be Chilean, I could think of nothing to say to her as I approached the table where she was signing copies of her book. All that came out of me was, "I am jealous of you beacuse you knew Pablo Neruda". She didn't say a thing at first just looked right at me. I thought to myself, "Carrie, you are such an idiot". She looked at me a while then she smiled and said, "Pablo had the best sense of humor and he collected silly hats. He would answer his door or arrive at parties with them on." I smiled at her and I whispered, "thank you". I truly was as thankful to her as if she had given me an original photograph of him. And in a way she did. She gave me a glimpse of the Poet that only his closest friends knew.


There was an Italian film made in 1995 titled Il Postino about an unlikely friendship Neruda had with a postman. I try to rent it at least once a year, for a while it was always on Valentine's Day, to remind myself that inspiration is constantly around me, and that words are powerful and capable of changing hearts and lives.


" A true poet must achieve a balance between solitude and solidarity, between feeling and action, between the intimacy of one's self, the intimacy of mankind, and the revelation of nature." -Pablo Neruda

I am one HAPPY pregnant woman! You would be too if you got pints of this delivered to your door. Thanks D, Michele and Isaiah!!

I have already tried the mint chocolate chip...huge chunks of real chocolate and the creamest, best mint ice cream I've ever had... no joke!
Now where can I hide these so I don't have to share?!! Yummy!!

Phew..


While riding in the car home from school yesterday...

Cade: Mom, my stomach hurts. I feel nervous for the BCS game. I just keep thinking of so many thoughts.

Me: Uh, Umm ok.. do you want to talk about..... (interrupted)

Cade: Never mind...my seat belt was just on too tight.


We made it to the third quarter last night and though I know Cade would've preferred to watch that game with his Dad, he tolerated me and my lack of knowledge.

Today I spent the afternoon out with a few good friends. We walked along the intracoastal, waving at the boats passing through. We looked at a fountain and took our shoes off to put our feet in. Then we had a nice lunch out and came back to watch football and rest. Ok, these are my kids I am talking about here but they are my friends. We laugh together and talk about things. Yes, sometimes they drive me crazy but who doesn't from time to time? I usually hate when Doug is out of town on the weekends because the days seem to last forever without him. And today I would've preferred for him to be with us. But it was just me and the kids, and it was nice to spend time alone with them.

Our priest gave a cute homily about what if it had been wise women instead of kings that visited baby Jesus? He said, "They would've arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the Manger, brought more practical gifts and brought food!" I think that is about right. But it wasn't about helping out a new mother, the Feast of the Ephiphany is about welcoming a King. And they brought appropriate gifts indeed. I asked Cade and Camryn what they would give the Baby Jesus as a gift and they couldn't think of one that seemed right. Pope John Paul II, once in a homily on an Epiphany feast, invited all of us to "do everything that the Magi did: offer gifts-- the gold of Love, the incense of Prayer, and the myrrh of Sacrifice.

Today I woke up and felt immediately bad. Made breakfast, just waffles. But as I started making lunches my head was pounding and feeling like all the blood was rushing quickly out. I had to sit down, so I did. Cade poured me a cup of juice, "are you ok mom", "yes honey I just need to sit down for a minute". Then the most miraculous thing happened. My son, an 8 year old who has to be told at least twice to do anything because he is always in another dimension, finished making and packing his, his sister's and his dad's lunch. Without being asked, told or nagged. All on his own. He lovingly packed each lunch and then as if it was completely normal came and gave me a kiss goodbye. I was stunned. At this point I was now laying on the couch watching all this unfold completely awed. Doug came out from getting ready and looked at me rather confused as to why I was laying down. I just smiled. Sometimes, when we really need it, a moment comes along to show us that we are doing an awesome job as parents. That we indeed are raising caring, selfless, good kids after all. And people think I am crazy to want lots of kids! If it weren't for them where would I see God's love for me on a daily basis?

"Live simply, so that all may simply live."
--St. Elizabeth Ann Seton


St. Elizabeth Ann Seton was the first American born saint cannonized. She had no mystical powers, was not martyered, did not have the stigmata. Yet she was a saint. When I think of a saint I think of a holy person who posses strong virtue while doing something extraordinary in their life for others. Often I assume they have just been blessed with a gift from God that enabled them to lead a saintly life. But the truth is they are not any different from me or anyone else. Except maybe that they were conscious of the life of Christ within them every moment of every day. I read somewhere that in order to live a more saintly life all you have to do is act like you already posses the very gift you are praying for. If you are praying to be more patient act like you already have been graced with that virtue. If you are praying to be more devout to your faith act like you already are a devout. Instead of looking at the mountain in front of us and trying to figure out how to climb it, this concept places us on top of the mountain and makes us act accordingly. I love this idea and I often put it into practice when I am tested. With my children, if I am feeling overwhelmed I act like I have been blessed with a calm temperment. When I feel like avoiding a challenge I believe that I already posses the strength to accomplish it. The saying is true, "With God all things are possible" the problem is we don't believe in ourselves. That the power is always there all we have to do is allow it to work through us.

Be less Mary? More Elizabeth..

Today the last of our Christmas guests departed. I can't even express how hard it is to look into the little faces of my neices and nephews and not know when I will see them again. I just pray the time passes quickly between now and then.
It seemed all action around here abruptly came to a halt. Maybe we were all just so tired from 10 fun-filled days with people we really love dearly, but we all just sat around our quiet house. In the quiet I thought about the New Year and how the begining is always filled with so much hope. Indeed, before all our family parted ways we made plans for summer, and visits. It makes the parting easier if there is the hope of future visits to look forward to. That is how we live as Christians isn't it the hope of peace, the hope of eternal life. Hope is so important to our faith. It fuels our faith when we are in the midst of trials. So my heart is so very full this January with hope for 2007.

Over Christmas, there were so many moments I wanted to blog but then I opted to spend time with family instead. I admit it was hard to hold myself back from blogging but in the end it was a nice break. So with the break I had time to think of how I would improve upon my blog and decided on these new things for 2007:
I am adding a new column on the sidebar of my blog for pregnant mothers. There seems to be so many mothers to be that I know and love and I pray if you read this blog you will keep these mothers in your prayers too. If there are any you want me to add please let me know and I will post their names and due dates.
Also new, a link list of blogs that I visit and I think you would like too. The first being my sister-in-law Michele's. I was very pleasantly surprised to see today she started a blog. So it will be there along with a couple others that inspire me.

So, with yesterday's feast of the Solemnity of Mary Mother of God I started thinking a bit today about how I always am trying to be Mary. In fact, this is not such a bad aspiration and one our Church is always encouraging. I myself have prayed many times to the Blessed Mother for her help to be more like her. A very independent person for most of my life (out of necessity of course due to the coaching profession)I realize it is really difficult for me to be dependant on people or to allow others to help. I think most women suffer from this perfectionism that only we are capable of doing it all and doing it right. So my resolution this year is to learn to embrace the role of Elizabeth. Especially with my fourth pregnancy, I want to step down from my superwoman platform and stand quietly next to it. I am going to try to be gracious about accepting help in whatever form because it can be an occasion of blessing for other people too. Sometimes God wants us to be Mary, but other times, we can learn alot from being Elizabeth.