Eating Cold Spaghetti

I turn 26 this weekend and in light of this, I've been thinking about birthdays and why we celebrate them and how we celebrate them.  Growing up we had a tradition, on your birthday you got to pick what was for dinner. It could be your favorite homemade meal or any fast-food you wanted (fast food was a rare "treat" in our house for much of my childhood) or I think even hometown buffet was an option(eating out anywhere else wasn't something we did- EVER). I typically opted for McDonalds and then, as I outgrew happy meals, Pizza Hut.  My mom would bake your favorite cake, or once we discovered ice-cream cakes, you could pick one out. And after dinner and cake we might have a present or two. And that was our birthday.  It is a simple tradition that I happen to love. I want to carry it on and keep birthdays small and simple. I see many parents overwhelmed by the need to throw big elaborate parties (each one more extravagant than the last) and spending a fortune on one day...

 Sometimes I get ambitious and borrow too many books at once. Sometimes, I end up returning them before finishing or...starting them. I am hoping now is not one of those times.(although, I'm taking the time to write this instead of read... so time will tell)  Aside from the few simple just for fun books I'm sure to finish with ease, I have also borrowed The Story of a Soul by Saint Therese of Lisieux and The Seven Story Mountain by Thomas Merton. I really desire to read both, but they will take more time and thought than the other rather mindless books. I realized recently, that I have gotten in the habit of reading an autobiography or memoir here and there, because there is something really enriching about reading the lives of others. It doesn't matter if it's the life of a monk or saint(though, I do imagine there is much more to be gleaned from these), or a journalist with questionable morals - something can always be learned. And if nothing else, we may learn a lot...

 My 8 month old daughter is almost walking and because of this I find books constantly being ripped from the bookshelf and anything on any table or shelf of her height is propelled to the floor as victims of her conquests( and her favorite place to get down and explore is our local library ... )  So, the other day, as I was picking up books for the millionth time, I was surprised by a poem I had written about month after the birth of my son as it fell out of the pages of some book. I had completely forgotten about it. I am always surprised when I find things I've written and cannot remember them, except maybe vaguely.  There's not much to it, but I figured it was worth sharing at least.  Completely full every muscle fiber stretched  completely  For life brand-new. Feel without fear push- release  receive this beautiful gift from within. Completely empty every fiber -muscles need filling  completely. With holiness accept- receive the gift from abov...

There is a half melted cat in a box on top of my stove right now.  And as I write this, I'm suddenly reminded of a book I read a while back called "Welcome to the Funny Farm."  But, all joking aside, it is actually a collection of stories from a mom's life with a bit of a biblical message and a lot of laughs. I related as I read, and you might to if you are reading anything I write.  The particular story I recall had something to do with a dehydrated lizard in a bag on top of the woman's fridge, where our treasure is and the things we do for love. But back to the cat.  The cat is made of wax and is a terrifying candle that was "gifted" to my precious little 2 year old boy.  He treasures it and since it's a candle (and he loves fire..) we must keep it; even though I desired to throw away the minute I laid eyes on it. I mean, why? Who in their right mind wants to have a melting cat? I don't like cats much myself(or the idea of pets in general), but...

I have been toying around with the idea of writing a post about a relatively new development in this journey of marriage my husband and I have entered, but being that it is new, I didn't quite feel like I have to authority with which to write about it. However, upon realizing that we are about to head into NFP awareness week, I figured it was time. We have just started learning the marequette method of natural family planning (NFP) and already the learning and growing has been incredible. Both for me personally and for us as a couple.  Prior to marriage, while we did do some marriage prep, and even had a sponsor couple (a couple that's been married for a while and active in the church) who we met with several times, we did not learn NFP. I was certainly interested, but my husband and I were both of the stance that we'll just leave it totally up to God. Plus, our sponsor couple only had an out dated hand out from the 90's to share, since they personally had never used NF...

Several days ago I was sitting in my kitchen floor waiting for cookies to finish baking. My toddler and the little lady and I were listening and dancing to music on the radio while we waited. And then I  heard a new song, and I had to stop and really listen, absorb the words- feel the song. And, when it was over, really think about it.  Surely you've been there before.. You hear a song and it just hits you. The emotions overflow and you feel something. Sometimes it feels deep and soul stirring. Sometimes it is just surface level. Depending on the song, the emotions can range from joy and elation, simple pleasure and enjoyment, to tears and sadness, or maybe even anger and frustration- music is designed to move you.  Not every song will move everyone the same. And some music will make us cringe and change the station. In fact, some " music " might not sound like music to our ears. But as with any art form, the beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  Truthfully, I do no...

The other morning I was sitting at my son's little table, watching him paint.  With my daughter sleeping on me in the ring sling carrier, I  grabbed a pencil and began to write a poem of sorts. This is what come of those two minutes or so, before paint was spilled and we moved on.  Mommy needs a Nap Just a moment. Give me just a second. Wait a.. minute, will you  please?  Mommy needs a moment  to get down on her knees- a holy reminder if you will- before we clean up our  next spill. There is no pill for this  frustration- no cure for this anxiety- it's simply Mother nature Slowly sanctifying me. To be fair, the last line is actually one that came a day later when I was rereading what I had written. When my husband found it laying on the little table he said he loved it. It should be a rap. And the title should be "mommy needs a map." Not exactly what I was going for, but here it is, regardless.  It's been a while since I've written like this,...