tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8124042306615765952024-03-19T05:10:04.522-04:00Daughter Of MaryJust a woman, trying to remember she is not a girl anymore, who wants to be a true daughter of our Blessed Mother Mary. I'm not there yet, but I am striving to be what the Lord wants for me.
Wife to 1
Stepmom to 1 and
Mother of 9 more...
Sometimes life is overwhelming, chaotic and often more beautiful than I can comprehend.True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.comBlogger154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-55616549521260852482021-05-18T15:08:00.011-04:002021-05-18T16:45:29.519-04:00Just processing....<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICDzFrmEiy-tflZanerEkesZHxYC_V0S8EjhMa_W6ZtjID8MspT1cEny-ndbCCbrOYoEv8HUrSh4f2uPhKZyf9RVF-W_OrkXqk7_U2O8Ql2u4IM4-ZJrInkZINoVUmO2fXjKU-tXzQrNq/s1440/Dad+on+the+boat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1439" data-original-width="1440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgICDzFrmEiy-tflZanerEkesZHxYC_V0S8EjhMa_W6ZtjID8MspT1cEny-ndbCCbrOYoEv8HUrSh4f2uPhKZyf9RVF-W_OrkXqk7_U2O8Ql2u4IM4-ZJrInkZINoVUmO2fXjKU-tXzQrNq/s320/Dad+on+the+boat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Writing things down has always been the way I get problems, worries, conversations that weren't spoken, ideas, memories and other flotsam out of my head. I have never been unable to just pour my heart out and have the stuff in my head and heart just flow out and gain a little bit of peace. When I was first married, I wrote my new husband dozens of letters. He never read them, but they helped me sort out my homesickness, my fears over a blended family, and all sort of problems I was scared to talk about. <p></p><p>When my dad died, there was so incredibly much I wanted to say, that almost no words would come to mind. He was so big, so MUCH, and so incredibly dear that I couldn't put all of that in words. Instead, I have cycled through this weird state by listening to my favorite music. First lots of Christian music, then adding some of Dad's music in (which, to be honest, is most music - he really loved music) to see if I could tolerate hearing it. Sounds dramatic, but what can I say? Our music director at church told us during the funeral planning that lyrics would have a greater meaning now. He's not wrong. </p><p>Anyway, I was sitting here, having a normal day. Dentist, school, lunch - and my little girl puts on Ed Sheeran. Not music I associate with my dad in any way, really. But the lyrics had me in tears in seconds and all sorts of precious memories come flooding at me and I got scared that I would forget, or that my kids would not know the stories. So, I pull up my old blog that I haven't touched in years. I need to find a way to make sure they can keep this somehow.</p><p>One time, when I was 6 or so, we had a huge snowstorm. It might have been the blizzard of '77....but my dad and our next door neighbor built us a giant snow fort. It was HUGE and I honestly thought it must be just like an igloo. My dad's barely contained glee at any fun or adventurous thing is what I tend to remember most about any story - his grin when he sees your reaction.</p><p>Another time, I was in bed, supposed to be sleeping when I spotted the biggest, hairiest spider ever known to man. It was terrifying, so I screeched and screeched. Boo, in the twin bed next to mine, was just as terrified. We heard my dad's feet come pounding up the stairs, with Mom close on his heels. As we pointed out the terrible spider, he dissolved into laughter, showing us the big fuzzy ball that must've come up with the laundry. He chuckled, and co-co bopped us on the head, turning terror into a solid memory.</p><p>Speaking of memories, one of my absolute favorite memories is walking with Dad on the beach at Assateague. We were just walking along, getting our feet wet. We came across a horseshoe crab on it's back, it's legs out, waving around. Dad just flipped him over and put him near the water. This little thing just made me wish that Assateague could last forever, and I told him so. So Dad says to me, "You know how to make a memory, right? How to keep it forever?" We sat down and Dad said, " You just look around. Memorize what you see. Then the things you can smell. Then what you can hear. Freeze the moment in your mind so you can go back to it whenever you want." I've done this hundreds of times in my life since that moment. Maybe thousands of times. I'd be tempted to say that this was no big deal to Dad, but he was sentimental. He'd gather good memories and hold them close. Family dinners, big events, little tiny moments that no one else noticed but he recognized as significant...he was freezing those moments and keeping them. I'm so grateful that he taught me how to stop and take everything in, and hold it close. I had the sense even as a little kid that this would be an important skill to have and to now have several of these memories, last moments with my dad, held tight in my memory....</p><p>We have this weird phenomenon when people die...we try to paint them in this perfect light. I'd rather remember how people actually were - flaws and all. My dad wasn't perfect, but he was just. He was infinitely kind. He loved with all he had. He was good to people he knew weren't going to be good back. There are so many more things I want my kids to know or remember about my dad. This isn't even near the start of them, but it was just driving me crazy that I couldn't put into words anything about him. It was just plain rude. I have never had a problem pouring my feelings out on paper before. Something about it all was just so much more than I had the capacity to deal with... and yeah, I know, that sounds dramatic. But ya know what? Death is dramatic. He left this giant hole. I mean, I wanted to call him about stupid plants in my front yard the other day but HE'S NOT GONNA ANSWER THE PHONE. Chances are he would've told me to take a picture down to the plant store on 30th and ask those guys, but still. </p><p>So, if my old, old, old blog suddenly pops up in your feed and you are annoyed at a 50 year old woman still being shocked that her dad died and is still mad about it, or sad or whatever is going on in my head on any particular day, please excuse me and go on about your business...I'm just over here processing because it still feels like a tragedy. I know, dramatic. but, I don't bother with lies. It just feels that way.</p><p><br /></p>True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-89151448216134216702017-05-23T23:47:00.000-04:002017-05-23T23:48:58.321-04:00To My Babies...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />I wrote this way back in 2011, right after I miscarried our identical twin boys. I was scared to post it then....<br /><br />
In the last 16 years of my marriage, I have birthed and lost many babies. The first baby was Matthew. He was our first pregnancy after we got married. His pregnancy was ectopic, which meant that in the end, after running around for a week getting second opinions, I had to have emergency surgery. They were able to save my fallopian tube, but I had lost my baby.<br />
Because God is good, and knew I needed to know my baby was okay, He sent Matthew to me in a dream. He was a beautiful dark haired boy of about 12. He told me his name was Matthew, and that he would be our special intercessor. He would pray for us, and watch over our family. Matthew, I have always, always loved you. I have told your brothers and sisters about you, and they love you, too. Your daddy and I cried when we lost you, and bonded even tighter together after our loss of you.<br />
We got pregnant with our beautiful Mackenzie Rose soon after, in the spring of 1996. We were so thankful when she was born healthy and happy and oh, so very beautiful. She was later diagnosed with WPW, but that is another story for another day.<br />
Jonah Douglas followed soon after, and while had had problems at birth, he was a happy, sweet baby, and we were so thankful for him. Jenna Rhiannon was born just two years after that, and Kolbe Thomas was born two years after. Then our trouble seemed to start.<br />
About a year or so after Kolbe was born, we lost a baby. I had a miscarriage before I even knew I was pregnant. I don't know that wee baby's name, God never told me, but I had a vision of my Matthew bending down to scoop up a little baby, smile at me, and then turn and walk away.<br />
Our sweet Luke Christopher was born in February of 2005, and he was healthy, and smiley, and affectionate. He is and was the sweetest baby ever. We thank God for him and his sweet ways every day.<br />
We lost another baby on the Fourth of July in 2006. I bled and bled for weeks, and finally went to the doctor. The midwife told us we had been pregnant. I had been in so much pain on the 4th, and bleeding, but my mind didn't accept that it was a miscarriage until we were actually told. This time, I saw my Matthew again, holding the hand of a small child, and bending down to pick up a little baby. Smiling at me. I know they are waiting for me.<br />
We got pregnant with our Benjamin in the middle of all of that. He was a huge blessing after a loss. Born gorgeous and healthy, with tons of black hair and a sweet little bump on the side of his little head, where his ears had moved in utero.<br />
Two years later we got pregnant again. This time it wasn't going well. Before we even knew we were pregnant, I again miscarried. And bled, and bled. I was bleeding so much, that your dad took me to the ER. We thought they might have to do an emergency hysterectomy. Instead, they did an ultrasound. They discovered that we had been pregnant with twins, but we had miscarried one, and one sweet little seven weeker was still hanging on. I bled for several more weeks, but our Caleb hung in there. He was born via emergency C-Section on May 20th, 2009. They took him to another hospital, away from me. I spent two nights and one day - 40 hours, away from him, in full panic. I just needed to get to him. I was finally able to be with him in the NICU. He spent several days in the NICU for meconium aspiration. But he is a healthy, happy baby, and we are so grateful for him.<br />
We avoided getting pregnant for over two years. We were worried that I couldn't safely carry a pregnancy anymore, and we had been through so much. Well, nature deemed that my cycles were very scattered and uneven, and hard to track. At the end of July, I took a pregnancy test, just to rule it out. It was positive. I wasn't sure I even wanted to be pregnant. I was scared. Your dad was scared, too. But, things seemed to be going perfectly, no bleeding, I was having morning sickness, everything was happening as it was supposed to.<br />
When we were five weeks pregnant, we found out you were twins. I was shocked, and at the same time, not at all surprised. I had had a dream about twins, and this seemed to be the fulfillment of that dream. We were monitored closely, found a doctor who would let us have a natural birth. We watched you grow, and were so thrilled that you seemed to be growing beautifully. When we saw you at 13 weeks, you were both so beautiful. George was waving at us (we called you 'Baby A') and Gabriel ('Baby B') was doing somersaults. You looked healthy and wonderful. The doctor thought we might be able to see whether you were boys or girls at the next visit.<br />
I was starting to relax, and think maybe everything was going to be okay. You see, for some reason I had been so scared. Because we lost Caleb's twin, or just intuition, I don't know, but I couldn't picture twins. I couldn't "see" that in our future. But, that ultrasound made me think it might be okay. I prayed constantly, day and night for you. I prayed you would be healthy, and that you would both get to be born. <br />
When we went in for the ultrasound at 16 weeks, the ultrasound tech took a very long time, measuring, searching. Your daddy seemed to know right away that something was wrong, but I took a lot longer to catch on. I didn't realize how bad it was until the tech ran out of the room to go get the doctor. When he came in, he searched, too. They couldn't find a heartbeat for either one of you. My heart started to race. I started to panic. I wanted you. I wanted you to be healthy and alive. A scream started in my heart. I haven't been able to cry that scream out yet, so this is my scream. I think I will be screaming for a very long time. I love you so much, and I want you. I feel like I can't find you and that I need to get to you. I want to hold you, and kiss your sweet faces. I feel so desperate for you. Please, please know how much I love you, want you, and need you both.<br />
On Wednesday, October 12, we went to the hospital. I had been lead to believe that I had to have a D&C. That was breaking my heart, because I wanted better for you. I wanted you to get to be born, I wanted to hold you and see your sweet faces. God granted this prayer, because they were able to induce labor. We were in labor with you for 14 hours. You were born naturally, and I got to feel your labor, I think I needed to give birth to you, rather than have you taken from me.<br />
They let us hold you, and we had you blessed. You were so very, very beautiful. George was born first, and just five minutes later came little Gabriel. The nurse, Julie, was very tender with you. She wrapped you both together in a blanket, and let us hold you and look at you. You were so tiny, maybe just fitting in my hand. Boys, with long legs shaped like Yebbi's. You both even looked like him, which is a comfort, because as we watch him grow, maybe we will get glimpses of what you two would have looked like. I touched your tiny hands and feet. I couldn't believe how small you were. Your daddy looked at you, and then Julie took you away to be weighed. She took pictures of you, and wrapped you in a sweet blanket. You each had your own little bunny to hold. Your hand prints are still on those bunnies. I wish I had held you longer. I wanted to bring you home with me, even though you weren't alive. It took everything in me to leave that hospital without you. As they wheeled me out, a lullaby started playing. I was holding a teddy bear, instead of my babies. I miss you so much. I feel like I am going to miss you forever, and I know I will. I miss Matthew, more right now than I have in years, and our other babies, too. I miss you all. I love you all so much, I pray that there is a God. I pray that our Blessed Mother hears me. I need her so much right now. I want her to be holding you, until I can hold you. I have had moments, not many, but a few moments when I just wanted to be with you. I don't know if that is grief, or PPD, or normal, or what. But I have my babies here, who need me, too. I hope and pray that God allows me to raise them. Pray for me, my babies. I need your prayers so much right now. I am struggling with my faith. I am struggling with the loss of you.<br />
The only good thing to come out of all of this, is an incredible closeness I feel with your dad. He is the only person who really knows me. He is the only person I say everything to. He has held my hand every single second since this happened. He held my hand every second in the hospital. He has held me every night while I cried myself to sleep. He has been unbelievably strong, even though I know he is suffering, too. I thank God for him, he has been the only thing keeping me afloat. Him, and your brothers and sisters. Baby Yebbi, and little Ben. They have let me hold them, and hug them, and love them. I am pouring all the love I feel for you onto your brothers and sisters, because you are not here. Please know that if you were here with us, we would all be showering you with all the love you could hold. You were wanted, cherished, loved beyond measure. You still are, my sweet little boys.<br />
Pray for me, my sons. The scream is still aching to be let loose. I am so heartbroken, and I don't know how to fix it. I am clinging to the images I have of you in my heart. I love you. Love, Momma.</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-33726211632235926442016-02-16T13:23:00.002-05:002016-02-16T14:44:10.477-05:00A Eulogy...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOAmQLaiDOyCUhV9lNHIPoQVD9xp4vz00mfRoIdHEKVVlGLzWW0WiWK6XqtrMpkDA1zd-6AasD54re-pjjzKB6m2CcQxuRw3rTVNaqznz0WyLt_v7HQJCC0rd1v3dIXEy5pHqQ3o9zPNT/s1600/12710946_10153374009902011_2264314018123230911_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOAmQLaiDOyCUhV9lNHIPoQVD9xp4vz00mfRoIdHEKVVlGLzWW0WiWK6XqtrMpkDA1zd-6AasD54re-pjjzKB6m2CcQxuRw3rTVNaqznz0WyLt_v7HQJCC0rd1v3dIXEy5pHqQ3o9zPNT/s320/12710946_10153374009902011_2264314018123230911_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Holy moly. I haven't written anything in this space in nearly two years. That's a bit sad. The reason I am writing however, while a bit sad, is mostly joyful. You may or may not remember me posting occasionally about my grandmother...<br />
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Megan
Ellis Probert began life on March 16, 1921 as Mary Margaret Ellis, Megan for
short. She died Thursday, February 11, 2016 at the very impressive age of 94.</div>
She fell and broke her hip, followed by more falls, hospitals stays and a downward spiral that ended in a nursing home. At some point during all of this, she fell and tapped her head hard enough to create a hematoma, resulting in gradual memory loss. For the last several years, at least 3 or more, she barely remembered any of us. Some of the time she would know my mom, Some days she would recognize me, but think I was her mother. She would often ask after her boys. Sometimes she meant her brothers, other times she meant her sons.<br />
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I think we all fell a bit more in love with her during this time. It's easy to love the vulnerable. It's easy to know how she feels about you when she no longer filters her words - and sometimes that was hard and other times it was wonderful.<br />
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I think we can all agree that Nain wasn't always easy to love. I'm not sure why that was - she was a little bit tough and a little bit hard. When we look back over the life she's lead, it is not hard to find the reasons she may have guarded her heart a bit. She was born to Welsh immigrants and her early years were during the Great Depression. While that time in her life was hard, she was the youngest of five children, the only girl and the youngest. Her older brothers doted on her. I can remember her bragging about how her brothers worked very hard but always made sure she was dressed to the nines.<br />
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Nain met PopPop and they were married in a quick ceremony right before PopPop left for Europe to fight in World War II. He never even saw my mother until she was a year old. She loved to tell the story of Megan's birth. The nurse carried her around the hospital so everyone could see how beautiful she was with her bright red curls. When PopPop returned they went on to have Donny, and later Jeff. Nain loved to tell stories about how troublesome they were, and they loved to tell stories about how she locked them out of the house on Wednesdays so she could scrub the kitchen floor.<br />
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Nain loved shopping, and college football - especially Penn State, and had a penchant for a good hotdog. Nain was a fantastic teacher. She taught us all our first dirty joke, how to tell real wood from the fake wood everything is made out of nowadays, how to tell a good grain of leather and the importance of learning how to iron a man's shirt properly. She passed on her good manners, ability to charm and be the belle of the ball. She knew how to sit like a lady, walk in heels and wear clothes beautifully. She had a wardrobe even her granddaughters loved. She was a true lady, with the killer gams to prove it. She used to tell us all the time that she wore heels because PopPop loved how her legs looked in them.<br />
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Nain was generous. She was quick to purchase Girl Scout cookies, fund major purchases and offer any help we ever needed. She shared clothes, books, purses, shoes. Even if you brought her a treat when she was in the nursing home, she couldn't enjoy it if you didn't share it with her.<br />
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All the kids have a lot of funny stories about Nain, and I am sure we will be hearing them over the next few days as we prepare to say goodbye to her, but I have a few favorite memories I'd like to share:<br />
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~Nain and my mom polishing off the last of the wine every holiday and giggling while they did the dishes.<br />
~Nain reading "Green Eggs and Ham" to Megan #4 a thousand times one Christmas while she was visiting.<br />
~ Mom and Nain making "Sees Candy runs" when we lived in Phoenix. They would go, buy a couple pounds and give each of us one and stash the rest.<br />
~Nain chasing us around with a dustcloth and a bottle of Pledge when we were little, while PopPop encouraged us to touch every surface and press our noses against all the windows - just to get her goat.<br />
~Nain telling stories about her parents, especially her mother.<br />
~Nain promising me she would be down on her knees praying for me whenever I asked her for prayers.<br />
~Nain loved the movies and she and I used to love to go get lunch and see a movie whenever we got the chance. I think those times were the first times I ever really got to know her. One time we went to see a group of Welsh singers at Walsh. She loved that concert and I was so glad I got to experience it with her. <br />
~Nain's constant delight in the fact that there were three, and then four Megans. She loved any time someone would point out all the Megans and would even sign her cards to me: "To Megan #3, Love Megan #1". I loved it as much as she did.<br />
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Nain faced a lot of hardship, She lost her son, her husband, her brothers and their wives. She lived through the Great Depression, World War II, Korea and Vietnam. Her husband served in the military and reserves for over 20 years, both sons served during Vietnam. But she had three beautiful children, She has seven grandchildren and 29 great grandchildren.<br />
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While Nain may not have been overly affectionate, I think she had something even more important. She was steadfast and true. You never had to wonder where you stood with her, because she left you know up front. Uncommon integrity - you don't find a lot of that. She loved deeply, though I think it was hard for her to say, I know it was true.<br />
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One night, right after she had fallen in the hospital, I was there very late at night. She was babbling. Some of what she said made sense and some didn't, but she talked about her three kids, and how she had to make the world a really good place for them. She was concerned that they have enough vitamins and nutrients to grow up strong and healthy. Megan and Donny were big enough for chewing gum, she said. So she was going to invent a chewing gum for them and then market it so other children could also grow up strong and healthy. I tried to assure her that they had indeed grown strong and healthy. She talked about being a good mother and raising healthy children. I think she did a pretty good job.<br />
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At the end of her life, I hope she knows we loved her. I hope she saw my mother at her bedside. I hope she felt our prayers for her and our tears over her suffering. Today, we rejoice, because she has earned her heaven, at last. She is at the feet of her Savior. She has been reunited with her son who was taken far too soon, and with her husband. We are grateful to know she is at peace and her mind is whole again.<br />
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-37895753351060242072014-08-26T17:12:00.000-04:002014-08-26T18:13:04.921-04:00The Feminine Heart...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There is always a lot to talk about when you are with a group of women. Women tend to be highly charged, emotional, talkative (at least among our sisters/friends/moms) and easily driven to tears.<br />
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I see that this is often mistaken for weakness. Some kind of abandonment of truth and reason. Women are "crazy" or " too emotional" or "hormonal". While we are indeed emotional, and often hormonal - that doesn't make what we say any less true. It doesn't make the way we think any less rational. I would love to believe that in 2014 we have earned enough respect among our peers, men and women alike, to be taken seriously, even if a tear falls as we speak.<br />
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I cry at Mass, almost every week. I sometimes get funny looks, though it has gone on so long that most people don't even seem to notice. But think about it for a minute. Why WOULDN'T I shed tears at the Mass? I am in the presence of Our Lord. The Blessed Mother is near - my own sweet babies in heaven are among the communion of saints. So I just let the tears flow. They are now tears of joy where once they were tears of sorrow. I used to hide behind my hands, knowing that is was pretty useless. But can you, knowing that I am allowing myself to be swept into the Mass, blame me for my tears?<br />
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Music moves me. I am no good at it. Can't sing, can't play an instrument, but I love it. So many songs hold deep meaning for me, as I am sure they do for most people. When I hear a song that takes me back to a certain time in my life, reminds me of a precious moment or allows me to feel close to someone now gone from my life, the tears will flow. Even if it is just the beauty of the music, my eyes will often well with tears.<br />
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Love for my family, my children, yes - my sweet and amazing husband - absolutely. But also for my grandmother, who is in a nursing home. I can't help but cry every time I leave her. She doesn't really know me, but I know that she would hate being there, not knowing who anyone is or why she is there. When I see a niece or nephew accomplish something - anything, great or small, my eyes fill. When I know one of my sisters or brother is in some kind of pain, I cry. My parents, who are the very center of who I am - my love for them fills me with gratitude and yes, tears.<br />
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I choke up when I think of my children and my sweet nieces and nephew who all lost much loved grandmothers this summer. The memory of these sweet ones' trembling chins will fill my eyes. The knowledge that my husband hasn't slept through the night since he lost his mother and knowing my father in law will never, ever recover from her loss will have tears falling down my cheeks.<br />
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I cry when I get mad. Anger - it's the fastest way to make me cry. Make me angry, and you will see tears. Act like my tears somehow deny the truth of my feelings or lessen my argument? Big, plopping, furious tears.<br />
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And yes, I cry at silly stuff. Commercials, current events, movies, happy thoughts and internet memes. I cry all the time - does this make me weak? Does it make me stupid? Hormonal, overly emotional, crazy?<br />
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Or does it make me a woman? Sensitive, feminine, emotional. Seeking something beyond what is in front of my eyes. Even my kids say I over analyse - but that's what we do - that's how we problem solve, evaluate our decisions. It's how we empathize with the people in our lives and those across the globe. We lead with our hearts because our hearts are the softest place to land. As long as we always keep truth and reason, being emotional is nothing for which to be ashamed. Being emotional does not mean we are weak, it means we love. We have empathy. If we cry for you, we are sharing our love for you - for if you have the ability to make us cry, then you are important to us in some way.<br />
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"Why Women Cry"</h3>
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Why Women Cry<br />
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A little boy asked his mother, "Why are you crying?" "Because I'm a woman," she told him.<br />
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"I don't understand," he said. His Mom just hugged him and said, "And you never will."<br />
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Later the little boy asked his father, "Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?"<br />
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"All women cry for no reason," was all his dad could say.<br />
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The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry.<br />
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Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone, he asked, "God, why do women cry so easily?"<br />
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God said, "When I made the woman she had to be special.<br />
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I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world,<br />
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yet gentle enough to give comfort.<br />
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I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.<br />
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I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.<br />
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I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly.<br />
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I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.<br />
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I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.<br />
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And finally, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed."<br />
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"You see my son," said God, "the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.<br />
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The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides."</div>
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-1803638138837908662014-08-15T12:13:00.000-04:002014-08-16T17:14:07.916-04:00Jonah...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My Jonah turned 16 the other day. SIXTEEN. With this birthday comes much rejoicing. Jonah was diagnosed at the age of six with a seizure disorder. He originally experienced a seizure every 5-10 seconds. Later it went down to every 10-15 seconds.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZBycsdzqMkocgJa_5uuuuBjZLJl72mriQJ8J7p769fvKkj2A_3lYz3DAb4rP-jWhDEx5h0vM8PTCWlLcCIwHvj43f5B-k_D9OpEEctXrLSlHNsbFGGc7wrg9FZ0azFmXw1U8Vylc1xit/s1600/984179_10152252468022011_697654039992900079_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZBycsdzqMkocgJa_5uuuuBjZLJl72mriQJ8J7p769fvKkj2A_3lYz3DAb4rP-jWhDEx5h0vM8PTCWlLcCIwHvj43f5B-k_D9OpEEctXrLSlHNsbFGGc7wrg9FZ0azFmXw1U8Vylc1xit/s1600/984179_10152252468022011_697654039992900079_n.jpg" height="320" width="201" /></a>This past year he began to develop headaches, some double vision and dizziness. We of course were concerned and reported everything to his neurologist. We had some pretty extensive testing done. Jonah was fitted with 28 leads all over his head which he had to wear for a week. He also had to record himself sleeping. When the data from the testing came back, his neurologist called me himself with the news. There was ZERO seizure activity for the week Jonah wore the leads. THANKS BE TO GOD. This news was almost astonishing after a decade of worry. This does not mean he no longer has any seizure activity, but it does mean he has made great strides towards outgrowing the seizures AND can begin driver's ed! This as you can imagine is really, really meaningful to a teenage boy, but as his parents we know that the ability to drive impacts his entire life. He will be able to get to work, transport his family, teach his own kids to drive one day. All enormously impact-full.<br />
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So, we are rejoicing. He has another MRI on Monday, but right now - rejoicing. We had a big party - celebrating the milestone birthday as much as the results of the testing. This child, for whom I have prayed unceasingly - is beginning to blossom in so many ways. He is funny. He has a best friend (to whom I give a lot of credit for Jonah coming out of his shell). He is doing very well in school. This was one of his leap years. He tends to grow, developmentally, about every two years. Just when you think the last stage is going to go on forever, this kid makes a giant leap, and suddenly grows into himself SO MUCH.<br />
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Oh, and did I mention his deep, deep voice (sounds just like his dad) and his skinny, 126 pound, 5 foot, 10 inch frame? Or the fact that he gets out of bed at 2 in the morning to eat? Or that the last couple of times he has gone with us to the pool there were young ladies clamoring for his attention, to which he gave the cool guy "What's up?" nod? Where did my baby go?<br />
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As much as he has changed, he is still the guy who is a great big brother who comes up at night to kiss Priscilla goodnight. He is still the guy who gathers his baby sister up in his arms for a hug, or takes her for walks in her little car. He still loves video games and computer anything. He is fantastic at geometry and horrible at algebra. He doesn't like to read, but is getting so much better about it.<br />
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This guy, with his heart stopping, shy smile, his generosity, his kindness and his loping, dinosaur walk. I love him to bits and am so, so proud of him. Thrilled for him, too.<br />
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-69189052871687477902014-08-14T11:43:00.001-04:002014-08-14T11:50:29.674-04:00About the In-Laws...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's been a rough summer around here. In May, my gentle and much loved mother-in-law passed away rather suddenly. She suffered a brain aneurysm and passed almost two weeks later. At the same time, both of my sisters' mothers-in-law were ill as well. One, thankfully, was very ill, but it was acute and she went home and is doing well. The other, sadly, passed away after years of illness that culminated faster than expected.<br />
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These events have had me reflecting all summer on the way we build families, how we live with one another, and the culture in America in general. We are not really supposed to get along with the in-laws. People make jokes about mothers-in-law all the time, running them down as interfering, or just plain mean. It is, arguably, rather difficult to get along with people you have inserted into your life because you happen to love one of their children. I was very, very blessed in this regard. My mother-in-law, Laquaita, was nothing but love and kindness to me, and especially to my daughter, Meg. Meg was treated as though she had been born to their family. For that, I have always been grateful.<br />
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Laquaita never made demands, was always so supportive and helpful, and never batted an eye when she found out we were having another baby. She rejoiced. I was always thankful that we could call her with the news of a new baby and know for a fact we would only hear joy. I know she prayed and worried for us, and shared my love for dressing the kids up. I loved getting my kids ready to go see her, as she made over them and fussed. She once told me that whenever there was a family event, she couldn't wait to see what I put on my girls because they always looked so cute. I loved hearing that, and made sure to dress them up because it gave her pleasure to see them looking smart.<br />
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Laquaita wanted her family to be harmonious and happy, but, as families are made up of humans with differing lifestyles and opinions, that was not always the case. She didn't try to intervene, but instead let everyone work things out for themselves, offering love in all directions. I personally think this must have taken a lot of strength, and a huge amount of tongue biting. She probably won a great spot in heaven for her restraint, a rare commodity in any family. I hope I am able to be as loving as she was when I become a mother-in-law.<br />
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As we have built our families from our original family unit, we have been blessed with wonderful people on all sides. The other grandmothers have passed on traditions, new vocabulary and recipes. Our lives have been enormously enriched by these people. My kids have adopted words like "brand clean, gummy chewies and grandma juice". They make the "I love you" sign when leaving and give giant, squeezey bear hugs. All things they learned from grandparents or their cousins' grandparents.<br />
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They have watched their grandparents and the grandparents-in-law persevere through health challenges with strength and love. They have seen their grandfathers grieve with dignity, while allowing the kids to see their pain and tears, revealing their great love for their wives.<br />
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We've been blessed by the people who have lived in our lives, both through birth as well as through marriage. I hope my children, nieces and nephews choose wisely when they marry, because you do marry the family when you marry the love. I chose wisely. We all chose wisely.<br />
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-23140912072471168802014-03-21T19:06:00.000-04:002014-08-14T11:51:23.601-04:00A Mother's Thoughts on Tattoos, Piercings, Plugs...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
You know, I am pretty aware that I am old fashioned. I know I am traditional and that a lot of folks won't care what I have to say on the topic of tattoos, piercings and oh, my - those awful ear gauge deals. <br />
When you have a baby, and she (or he) is this perfect, beautiful baby, you always picture her that way. Anything that comes along to mar her beautiful skin breaks your heart a little. Over time of course kids get scars from trips and falls, surgeries and so many other ways, and each thing that mars your child's skin is a little bit of a heartbreak. You hope it won't show. You hope they won't be teased about it. <br />
Then, they grow up and for some reason, get minds of their own, even though you still see a sweet, darling little six year old. With the cute hair and the sweet smile and yes, that unblemished skin.<br />
Then they go and pierce something. Or get a tattoo. They don't understand that you don't understand why they would purposefully scar themselves with something unperfect. Something not of God, and not in keeping with the pristine and beautiful skin they were born with. Also, there is something that just - at least to me and I think many people who feel the way I do about tattoos and piercings - just looks unwashed, or at a minimum, classless.<br />
It might sound silly. It might not be any of my business, but here are my thoughts on the whole thing...consider them guidelines to really, really consider before you permanently mark your body. Forever. Like, it's never going away without some sort of surgery.<br />
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1.Consider placement. After all, it is MY generation who will be doing the majority of the hiring for most of your career. If you must pierce or tattoo, keep it someplace easily covered. I promise, this is for your own good.<br />
2. Please, please, please do NOT carve into your body ANYTHING you have ever seen on a bumper sticker, an internet meme or in a comic strip. Just don't. It's cheap.<br />
3. Take a turn through Google images before you go and get what you consider to be the "oh so unique and one of a kind" tattoo. Chances are it's not that unique or one of kind. If you have to do it, at least be original about it. I really do get the desire to commemorate some person, event, etc. I would be inclined to buy you a plaque or set up a photo session, but I do get it. If you just HAVE to do it, at least make sure your new body art is as unique as you are.<br />
4. Only add to your body things that add to your beauty - that goes for men, too. If you do something that takes away from your natural beauty, people just wonder why, shake their heads and assume you have some issues. For real. That includes those huge gauge things I keep seeing, the barbells in people ears, eyebrows, noses and for heaven's sake, necks, etc. <br />
5. Do your research! Make sure the place you go is clean - like uber clean. No mother wants to worry about you getting Hepatitis because you didn't check the place out. Also, make sure the person doing the tattoo/piercing actually knows what they heck they are doing. Is there anything worse than paying someone to permanently scar you BADLY? Just...do your homework. Make sure they know EXACTLY what you want. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How is this pretty? Pretty gross...</td></tr>
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6. Think about what you will look like at 40, 50, 60 gah...80 with scars from piercings and gauges, and how saggy and absurd your tattoos will be. Just. Think. About. It. <br />
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Try to remember that you ARE AN ORIGINAL. There is no one else like you on the planet, so there is no need to tattoo, pierce or plug any of your parts in the name of originality. Look around - your entire generation (and some of mine, heaven help us) is carving chunks out of their ears, tatting themselves up and piercing <em>everything. </em>While many still seem to think it is cool, it is no longer new or original. You don't need to add anything to be original - you were made that way, in God's image. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such a cutie - why, oh why the gauge?</td></tr>
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Some may try to misconstrue my "perfect, unblemished skin" comments as vain or all about outer beauty - and it is to some extent. But, what I am getting at is - I think you should try to be the TRUE, unblemished version of yourself as much as possible. Because you were perfectly made. You cannot be improved upon by man made jewelry or 'artwork' - even if it is beautiful art - it cannot ever be as beautiful as what God made.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpmoxYm_5YEmNA4ze0_rqWvOtD4LLPr68l8QbHCuUyjIo0yTkMqD_NDGwlWWOSzq3JHPLwG_dQOLua8e2U7qP7wgTrVDdedjJowNpztl0DH7aab2bKua3WLgaZxf2P4jR8ICxy_jTH3_H/s1600/images3I0CGX1X.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpmoxYm_5YEmNA4ze0_rqWvOtD4LLPr68l8QbHCuUyjIo0yTkMqD_NDGwlWWOSzq3JHPLwG_dQOLua8e2U7qP7wgTrVDdedjJowNpztl0DH7aab2bKua3WLgaZxf2P4jR8ICxy_jTH3_H/s1600/images3I0CGX1X.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tat is pretty, but not as pretty as she is...</td></tr>
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Just something to think about. I am pretty sure I am gonna get flack for this one, but hey, it's been a while since I said something that was sure to get me into trouble soooooo.....<br />
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God bless! </div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-53516150758202004542014-03-20T19:24:00.000-04:002014-03-20T19:24:10.682-04:00My Dad...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My dad is lots of things. He is a husband, father, grandfather, brother...but he is also this dynamic, amazing, loving, fun, water skiing, camping, boating, ocean loving, grandkid tossing, all around fantastic human. <br />
When I was growing up he was the provider, the math tutor, the politico, the car fixer, the tickle monster (not in that order), the catechist, the oceanographer, the spider killer, the Nancy Drew reader, the driving instructor, the mailbox replacer (long story), the handyman, and most importantly, just Dad. He has always been this larger than life figure. He has always been my moral compass...because ya know, if Dad thinks it is wrong, it really is wrong, and if Dad thinks it is okay, then you are on the right track. My siblings and I all tend to get Dad's read on something if we need help making a decision. <br />
My dad is still all of those things...and lots more. He is getting ready to retire at a very young 70. For some reason, this has been giving me a ton of anxiety and it actually took me nearly a month to figure out why. Of course I think he needs this time - it is their time - his and my mom's - to go and do what they want. See things, visit people, run around and have some fun. <br />
BUT<br />
My dad's dad retired, and from what I can remember, soon had a stroke, and wasn't able to do much. He died when I was just five years old, and I have more impressions of him than actual memories. Probably because he really didn't seem to be able to do much after he had the stroke. <br />
My mom's dad retired, built a house, then had a stroke and died. It was longer than that, I know...but that's how it felt. So, I guess I feel like my dad retiring is so, so scary. I want him to be this young, energetic guy forever. Can we please just keep him like this forever? </div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-24206071555316857122014-03-10T20:11:00.003-04:002014-03-10T22:53:40.229-04:00Like, The Third Time I've Said This...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I miss blogging. I think about it all the time, but never seem to get here. I think out posts in my head, but never type them out. Right this minute, I have so much stuff to do, and so much going on, but I really miss this little corner of the web.<br />
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We've had the usual going on around here...like everyone else in this part of the country, we've been sick on and off since December. The baby - who is really a toddler, keeps getting random illnesses. We've done a horrible job this winter with getting people to PSR on Sunday mornings and to Mass. It's always something being passed around.<br />
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I hate the living daylights out of homeschooling - again and still. I really feel so overwhelmed and under-motivated. I tend to get that way when I feel like there is just too much. I think six school kids, a preschooler, a toddler and a household to run, plus working part time is just more than I can handle. I have always known my limits, but ignored them, and then done something poorly. All the way through college, in an effort to finish sometime in that decade, I would take more classes than I could handle, but I tried to make sure I had a "pass class" - a class I could just skate in. Otherwise, I would just not be able to cope. I do the same thing, now. I skate on something, and tend to rotate what that "something" is...unfortunately, it tends to be school. I really, really don't want to be a homeschooler. If we had a viable option, and it were just up to me, we wouldn't be doing it anymore. Unfortunately, we just don't have a lot of options here that work for us. I think we will probably keep homeschooling, but next year I am going to farm out everything I can...especially for my highschoolers. There have to be classes and things they can do without me.<br />
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Yeb and Priscilla are becoming really good buddies, and I love that. Maybe his reversion to babyhood was so he could grow up with her?<br />
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Kenzie has a boyfriend. A beau. He's a really great kid with all the credentials, ya know? Smart, Catholic, kind, gets her, motivated. All that stuff. She's set the bar pretty darn high for all future romantic interests.<br />
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My Jonah is growing up...he is so TALL. He is so good, and handsome, and loves his baby sister so much. All the kids love Peege, but he LOVE loves her. He comes up when she is sleeping in my lap and just lays a hand on her...my heart trips over itself when he looks at her, then looks at me and gives me that goofy shy smile of his. Gosh.<br />
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My Jenna is teaching herself to draw. She is AMAZING already, and draws a lot of patterns for fabric, and the skinny clothing model figures and clothes. I need to find lessons for her...<br />
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Kolbe is a full blown GUY. He's 11, and smart, and kind of a smart ass, but great and fun, too. I am not sure what he does all day, because I don't see much of him. He's always got something brewing.<br />
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Benny is 6. Very, very 6. He wants to go outside all the time. He doesn't understand why he can't play in the street alone. He wants to ride his bike and he will be just outside or be right back, okay, Mom? Nope. Sorry, pal. Not old enough to wander the streets alone, even in our small town. Drives him crazy that he always has to have a big brother whenever he wants to do something. Ah well...<br />
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Luke and Ben are getting ready for soccer soon. Lukey is so excited, but he is a bit on the chub side of things. I think he will be huffing and puffing for a few weeks...this will be so good for him, and we are ready to get the HECK out of this house, y'all! Oh my - what a winter. We all feel as though we have been trapped inside these walls forEVER. We've had a couple tiny tastes of spring so far, which have been met with short sleeves, windows flung wide and bare feet. I think our entire state is ready to say goodbye to snow and cold.<br />
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We have some hard things happening in our extended family, a very, very ill family member in need of prayer, so if you pray, please offer some up for Pam and her little guy. I know they would appreciate it.<br />
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As always, I have to be grateful for my Douglas. He keeps us all moving forward. I have been struggling with some anxiety. It took me a while to figure out what was causing it, but he has <br />
kept me from falling to pieces for the last three or so weeks... I kinda dig that guy. I was just reading my <a href="http://truedaughterofmary.blogspot.com/2013/07/falling-in-love.html" target="_blank">old post about him</a>. I am such a sap, but just thinking about him makes me cry. I truly wish everyone had a love like him in their lives. I pray all our children will find it...<br />
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I have a couple of posts floating in my head...I always do. One is about my dad...he is retiring. I don't like it. I 'll have to get back to you about why but my kids are waiting for dinner...<br />
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Pics in the sidebar to catch you up...</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-4577429540935796392013-11-07T23:43:00.002-05:002013-11-07T23:48:09.670-05:00Trying To Get Back To This Place...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peegers aka Princess Leia and her Da...</td></tr>
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I think about this little blog all the time. I miss it so much...posts flit in and out of my brain all the time. I never have hands free to jot them down, or I am in the middle of school, or work, or nursing or cooking...but I miss it. <br />
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I recently decided to post to Facebook something I am thankful for every day this month, which has of course jogged my brain even more. <br />
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I know I have said it before, and I have wanted to get back to this before, but I am really hoping I can do it...my days are so short and my to-do lists so long...I wouldn't trade any of the things on my to-do list though. Well, maybe the laundry. And teaching kids to read. I am HORRIBLE at teaching kids to read. My brain can't understand why their little brains don't already know how to do it...I lose patience. Anyway...<br />
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One of the things I spend so much time on these days is soaking, absorbing and just relishing my sweet baby. I always, always soak up my babies. It is an intentional thing for me. I will never be one to wish away babyhood for sleep's sake or for less work or trouble. I don't want to miss anything, so I hold, I rock, I nurse. With Miss Priscilla Grace I have been even more aware that this could possibly be the last baby I ever have, so that kiss spot under her chin gets lots of kisses. I take time to kiss that sweet face and breathe in her sweet baby breath. She is so full of spunk and sass, but is so lovey and sweet. She especially loves hugging her brothers. She wraps those little arms around their necks and pats them on the back or head...she is full of love and ready to dole it out to anyone who smiles her way. I am loving every. single. second.<br />
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Another is my Yeb. He is such a little weirdo. He had a pretty severe regression after Priscilla was born. He really didn't talk much, and when he did it was total baby talk. He cried a lot and general wanted to be treated like a baby... to the point where we were considering having him tested. I mean, it was BAD. It took most of a year to get him to a point with lots of love and attention and a pretty strict insistence that he act his age to get him turned around. This of course, happened <em>right </em>after I filmed a segment for <a href="http://www.ewtn.com/series/shows/living-right-with-dr-ray/index.htm" target="_blank">Dr. Ray's show</a> about how I have never seen an older sibling actually regress after the birth of a new baby. As far as I know that segment never aired - THANK GOD!<br />
While the regression isn't as bad anymore, he's still pretty weird. He has a foot fetish, probably born of the fuss I make over his still cute feet. If you come over, don't take your shoes off, or you will have a Yeb trying to give you a foot massage, or just trying to cuddle them. When he's not cuddling feet or pretending to be a Jedi, or showing you his "sweet dance moves", he is almost normal, at least, for one of our kids. <br />
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With these two rather high maintenance characters, plus another half dozen or so, time has been in limited quantities for me lately. There is never enough time for anything, but honestly, I feel like we are doing the most important things; hugging babies, playing with kids, reading stories, doing school, making meals, and basically being together. So what if clean underwear is hard to come by and the upstairs bathroom still needs to be painted 6 months after the remodel? <br />
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We'll get there, eventually. In the meantime, you can find me sitting with my baby, holding her while she sleeps, nursing and admiring the length of her lashes and the slope of her nose. <br />
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Because I am lazy, but would like to share so pics of all the people who like, still live here and stuff...<br />
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Fall Fun...Yes, The Force is strong with us...and whatever... I love every second of these wackos, too.<br />
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-41783709296656818102013-07-31T12:27:00.001-04:002013-07-31T12:28:46.633-04:00Summer is NOT Over!...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ahhh, here in Ohio the weather this summer has been weird. We have had exactly one week of hot weather, a lot of rainy and cool weather, and some pleasant days. It has now been cooler for a while and people are starting to act and dress like summer is over. PEOPLE! There is still plenty of summer left! Put down the school supplies and back away...I just can't face school supplies just yet, not when there is so much summer left!<br />
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This week is one of our area's best weeks all summer - probably all year, actually. <a href="http://www.profootballhoffestival.com/" target="_blank">Hall of Fame week</a> is loved by almost all Cantonians, as well as those from surrounding towns and cities. It starts off with fireworks, a hot air balloon fest, fashion shows, luncheons, and goes straight on through the Grand Parade, Induction and the Hall of Fame Game. It really is so much fun. My favorite part is the Grand Parade, so many inductees come back year after year. Everyone loads up on coffee and donuts and grabs their spot on the route. It is pure summer time fun, folks.<br />
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We also want to try and hit an amusement park this summer. We are thinking <a href="http://kennywood.com/" target="_blank">Kennywood</a> - it is only about an hour from our house and has lots of rides for big and little kids. Should be fun.<br />
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We also have a flurry of end of summer birthdays around here, starting with my Jonah turning FIFTEEN. I honestly can't believe it. He recently spent an entire evening talking to a <i>girl</i>. A girl who is not a sister, nor a best friend of a sister, or a cousin. First time ever. So weird, I guess that he is that old, but he is very shy. Every time I ask about her, he gives me that shy-smiling grin of his. I think he might have thought she was pretty cute. I have asked him what he wants for his birthday, and he always replies "cash". Gone are the days of begging for the newest Lego, I guess. He is saving up for some new gaming system.<br />
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Then comes my Jenna's 13th birthday. We had a big, all girl surprise party for Kenzie's 13th, but Jenna has asked for a special photo session with her cousin who is the same age. We are going shopping for coordinating outfits, and they have the session planned out on Pinterest. I hope they have a lot of fun! Such as sweet and special way to mark their 13th year as best friends and cousins.<br />
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In September my Sweet Priscilla Grace (who is now known as any of the following: PG, Peegers, Rissa, Cilla, Gracie, Gracie-Pants or Grace-Face - depending on who is talking to her) has her very first birthday. We have a sweet birthday party planned, with all our family and friends. I know she won't remember it, but I sure am having fun planning it! My sister is helping me <a href="http://booscraps.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">make invitations and decorations</a>, and it is going to be so sweet and fun. I can't wait! Although, I am not so anxious for her to not be my little baby anymore. <br />
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See, there is tons of summer left. We even still have swimming lessons left to attend! Is there anything better than sitting by the pool for 45 almost entirely uninterrupted minutes while you watch your littles learn to swim? Not in my book. C'mon summer! We are still here soaking up every minute!</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-8476257646097293322013-07-30T11:45:00.000-04:002013-07-30T11:45:26.124-04:00On Being a Teenager...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My kids are growing up. I will soon have THREE teenagers in this house. One just got her drivers learning permit. One is now heading out on his own to visit friends across town, riding his bike and making new friends of both male and female variety. And the last one? She has been my baby girl for so many years. The fact that she is turning 13 at the end of the summer is mindboggling. <br />
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We've been down this road before, we have two grown daughters. We were so blessed that they were and continue to be "good" girls. They have lovely, wonderful friends, have made excellent choices for their lives. <br />
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Last summer one of my daughter's best friends from high school was found dead of a heroin overdose. I still think about it all the time. I didn't know her particularly well, she was a "school" friend...she and my daughter we close, doing plays, musicals and choir together, and making crazy plans to move to New York to become big stars. But her death haunts me. I am not sure why, except that it hit so close to home. She had a tiny son. That little boy now has to grow up without his mama, and for what? For drugs? I don't understand why so many young, talented, beautiful, smart kids with their entire lives in front of them get involved with this evil, life stealing poison.<br />
<br />
How do we keep kids off drugs? The 1980s question still has yet to be answered. It seems to be almost unanswerable, as kids from every walk of life seem to get involved. What have we done right with our first two? I am not sure we could even tell you. We talk about it. A lot, actually. I think my kids have seen my heartbreak for other mothers over the loss of their children to drugs. They have heard me refer to it as poison. And I think they have seen a lot first hand. <br />
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When I sent my daughter, Meg, back to high school her freshman year, the very first day of school a boy just a year older offered her drugs. She came home crying. I felt like I had offered her to a pack of wolves. But she went back. She spoke up against drugs and alcohol, for religion, for life, on so many occasions that she didn't have a lot of friends. But, her last year in high school? One of the boys who was mean to her for her outspokenness came back to tell her that even when he was fighting her, he was listening. Because of her words, he thought. And then he quit doing drugs and drinking alcohol. <br />
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My Kenzie and I used to love GLEE. It's gotten weird, but we were still keeping up with it because of the old characters. If you watch TV at all, you know that Cory Monteith, who played Finn died of a drug overdose recently at the age of 31. He was a beautiful, talented young man. He spent all of his life from the age of 13 battling his addiction to drugs. Such a waste of life. It's heartbreaking, and yet we see it everywhere. <br />
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As my Jenna approaches her 13th birthday, and my other teens are beginning to stretch their wings a bit, I have been thinking about the things we did to educate their big sisters about drugs. The kids know that drugs are poison. They know they kill. And yet, so many try it anyway. Why do they do that? As homeschoolers, we are somewhat insulated against the random school drug dealer, but we can't keep them in the house forever. They have to know how to say no. They have to be equipped with the knowledge that the stuff is poison, and the strength to defy anyone who would offer it to them. How do you do that? How do you give that to them?<br />
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As I wonder about all this, and try to figure out how to arm my kids against all these evils, I pray for the soul of the girl who was my daughter's friend, for her little boy, growing up without his mama, and for all the people who get involved with drugs - that they have the strength and knowledge to stay far away from all of it, and to help their friends stay away. <br />
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-8056230921413372672013-07-09T10:39:00.001-04:002013-07-09T10:46:35.126-04:00Falling in love....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have always had a romantic heart. Probably so much reading, and old movie watching as a kid, combined with the fact that I am a complete and total sap. I love everything about falling in love, weddings, babies, children, grandchildren...all of it...it's just good stuff. The mushier, the better, I always say (and get picked on for it). Honestly, if I could spend the majority of my time doing anything, it would be helping other people get that - the love, the wedding, the babies. As it is I spend a goodly amount of time praying for people to fall in love, or get that baby or whatever it is that they truly want in their lives.<br />
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I want that for my kids. I want them to grow up and fall really and truly in love - whether it be with a spouse or a vocation or both. I want my daughters to grow up and get knocked off their feet by some fine, young man whose life's goal is to be a partner to her, and help her and their children get to heaven. I want them to be swept off their feet. I don't want them to settle for anything less.<br />
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I know I have told the story about how Doug and I fell in love, and I know my children know it, but I don't know if they have any idea what was truly in my heart at the time, or now. When Doug and I first met, we were a broken hearted pair. We had both been betrayed in a fairly heartless manner, him more so than me; but God had bigger and better plans for both of our hearts. I just know that everything happens for a reason, according to His plan...<br />
<br />
....for instance, when I was married the first time, there was no time to be married in the Church. This was God's providence. He knew this was not the man for me, and so the sacrament was not received. <br />
When Douglas got married the first time, it was in A church, but not the Catholic Church, and with the agreement that should things ever get messy, they would just get divorced before it got ugly (which automatically invalidates a marriage in the Catholic Church). Not his idea, but he went along with it, thinking it was a strange thing to say before getting married. Probably should have been a red flag, but he was very young, and honestly, didn't want to heed any red flags, though they were numerous. <br />
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We both went on to have daughters, they were born just 7 months apart, in fact. And we were both separated by the time our daughters were 2 years old, or there abouts. This gave the two of us something in common - other than these life experiences we really didn't have anything in common, and might never have crossed paths if not for those little girls. God is very mysterious in His planning, indeed. <br />
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When we did meet, it was not quite love at first sight, more like extreme interest. By the second time we met, we had been talking non-stop on the phone for a while...one of those conversations was probably the moment I started falling for him, big time. He was sewing Elizabeth's pants...he knew they needed sewing and just did it...I found that to be amazing, after the non interested, wanted to give my daughter up for adoption fiasco of an ex-husband. <br />
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When we did fall in love, it was an all-consuming, mind bending, heart full, walking on clouds kind of love. I swear, honestly and truly, I felt like the only person on earth who had ever felt this way. I couldn't imagine other people in love just going about their day as if nothing was different, so they must not <em>really</em> be in love, they just thought they were. So after running around, grinning like idiots for a few months, and running up enormous phone bills (we were long distance at the time), we got engaged. And then a few months after that, married.<br />
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We have had so many ups, and some pretty serious downs. Some babies with health issues, the losses of 6 of our sweet babies, and the struggles that come with being a blended family, but all of these things simply brought us closer. We are the very best of friends. We are lovers in every sense of the word. When something happens, he is the first thought in my head. He is the first thought in my head when nothing happens. He was the only person who could reach me through my grief when we lost our little twins, and he is the person who made me see that God was there with me all along...he insisted that I see Him, that I know God was there. I want this kind of love for all of my kids. I don't want them to settle. I want them to find that one person who God has planned for them. I really hope they can be patient and not have too much heartbreak in order to find that person. I hope they have learned from us how to love a husband or wife without ceasing, how to stick it out through think and thin, and how to just be so comfortable with that person that the absence of him or her makes you uncomfortable. <br />
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I wish all of these things for you, my children. And even with all of that, I wish for you the wisdom of knowing that as much as you love your husband or wife, they can never be that fairy tale love...that all consuming love for which so many people search. The only place that all consuming, completely unconditional love can be found is in the arms of our Lord. Don't expect a husband or wife to have the capacity to love like that, the way we humans seem to crave. Only Christ can love like that...so have big expectations, and fall in love - hard. But please, fall in love with someone who wants to help you get to heaven, so you can rest together in the love of the Lord someday.</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-61880473508382555932013-07-07T15:48:00.001-04:002013-07-07T15:48:24.119-04:00I Miss This...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Gosh, I miss this blog. I haven't abandoned it on purpose, it just sort of happened. That whole pregnant/newborn/infant/baby after 40 thing really kicked my butt.<br />
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So, what have ya'll been up to? We have been doing the same things we always do, plus one. Our baby, Priscilla Grace is closing in on 10 months old. It went so, so fast, as it always does.<br />
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We've been busy - swimming as much as possible, running around for different summer time events. Same as you and yours, I am sure.<br />
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I feel like I have so much to say, I don't know where to start....but things that have been circling in my mind that I would have normally blogged about:<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>Yeb seems to be experiencing a severe bout of reverting to babyhood since Priscilla was born</li>
<li>We switched schools....again....</li>
<li>Kenzie is auditioning for a local production of <i>Annie</i></li>
<li>The big boys have been sleeping in a tent every night for a couple of weeks now</li>
<li>Jenna is turning 13 at the end of the summer, and then Priscilla Grace will turn ONE! </li>
<li>Jonah is suddenly becoming so much more grown up</li>
<li>Summer is flying by way too fast</li>
</ul>
I miss this place so much, I am trying to get back into the swing of life with a baby, and hopefully will be popping on here more often...just to get the circling thoughts out of my brain, because I am pretty sure I don't have any readers left....<br />
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See ya'll soon! <br />
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-11207175873918798792013-07-07T15:41:00.000-04:002013-07-07T15:41:56.811-04:00Money, Frugality, Humility and Lessons I Still Haven't Learned....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On Being Catholic and an American...<br />
<br />
We've been dreaming of a new, bigger house, and then getting smacked
down with so many left over medical bills that our credit will not allow
for a new house, even though our current home's value is finally
starting to climb again due to all the oil and fracking folks buying up
everything in our county.<br />
<br />
This of course, has led me to
whine and complain and generally be ungrateful for all that we have. mean, with this many kids, we should have a bigger house, right?! And we totally need more bathrooms, right? And we need a bigger yard, right? None of that will help my kids get to heaven, though some of it may save my sanity. We have a sweet little home that has housed us all just fine
for over ten years. It will continue to suffice as long as we need it to
so I need to just get over it, already. The fact that is known in the neighborhood as "the house with all the kids" is just a testament to how well this little house can hold a dozen or so people. The furniture in this little house looks like we bought it at a garage sale and then tried to raise 10 kids on it...and well, it's just embarrassing. Another lesson in humility. No one ever went to heaven because they had nice furniture.<br />
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We used to be
broke, like, the poor kind of broke. Now, I am not sure what we are, but
it isn't poor. We make plenty of money, I just can't seem to ever carve
out enough to make ends meet. And yes, I know what you are going to say
- we have a lot of mouths to feed. Yes, that's it, but it is not the
whole story. At some point, post-poor but never solvent, I decided that
certain things were allowed. Like, mega-expensive toothpaste, just
because the dentist said so. Dove soap, because so many of us have that horrible dry skin that turns into a rash if you use anything else. And buying actual baby wipes, instead of
making my own as I had always done. And not really bothering with resale
shops and just going whole-hog Baby Gap and Gymboree. Now, I only ever
buy sale items, but still.<br />
<br />
And of course, groceries.
We used to shop mainly at Aldi and other less expensive stores. Now, we
rarely take the time to do that, and when we do, we wonder why we don't
do it all the time.<br />
<br />
So, my checkbook this week? Well, I
have a tendency to think that ya know, $1000 is actually $1,000,000, so
you can imagine what happened there...and no, it wasn't on shopping or
anything like that. I tend to get overzealous, pay a whole bunch of
stuff, and then leave us nothing to work with as far as gas and
groceries go. Soooo, ya know what I do? I will go shopping for groceries
on Thursday, knowing that we get paid on Friday, so I am actually
spending the next paycheck before we even get it. Super smart, right?
And forget coupons. Who has time to clip coupons? Certainly not I. I
must spend that time doing just about anything else you can think of,
because unless it basically just falls into my lap, I don't do coupons. I
want to... but, seriously, don't even know where to start or how to fit
that into my schedule.<br />
<br />
So the first thing I need to get over is this pride thing. You know, if you take this many kids out in public, they better look <i>great</i>,
or you are going to get looks...you know, the looks that say, "Wow, you
have too many kids, you obviously can't even afford to dress them!" I
need to remember how cute my kids always looked even when I was only
getting them what they needed, as opposed to what I wanted them to have,
or even a particular daughter's case, what they are bugging to buy,
find or order. And that they don't have to look cute to get into
heaven...<br />
<br />
And I have to really plan our meals. My
current favorite meal plan is me wandering into the kitchen whenever the
kids start begging for food and rummaging around until I come up with
something - usually something really simple. If I planned out our meals,
I would probably save money on groceries - at least, that's what I
hear. We don't buy chips, or junk food or anything - ya know, <i>extra</i>.
But I am no where near as careful with our grocery dollars as I should
be, especially since during weeks like this, there aren't any.<br />
<br />
And
the diapers - oh jeeze. I really like the soft, pretty diapers. I
honestly believe my baby's bottom deserves the softest, comfiest diapers
- if you had to sit in a diaper all day, you would want it to be comfy,
right? BUT, I could probably switch her over to something a little less
pricey...right?<br />
<br />
As far as electric goes - this is a
HUGE part of what is wrong in our world. My kids just won't turn lights
out...even the 23 year old leaves her lights on all the time. It drives
me crazy, chasing around turning stuff off all the time. I mean, what
the heck? How hard is it to flip the switch, people? We are always
getting those comparisons from the electric company, telling us we use
way more power than anyone else.<br />
<br />
So, yes, my old frugal
self was really a better self. I gave more away, I made more meals for
people, I somehow found a way. I was used to doing better with less. I
know I can find ways to be more frugal, to make the money we have go a
little farther, so we can breathe a little easier as well as doing more for others. I need
to let go of the pride thing...and that is tough for me. My kids are
homeschooled, but I don't want them to look the part, if you know what I
mean. I want them to be able to bring friends in the house without being embarrassed by the horrible carpets, the falling apart couches, and the garage sale recliner. Where do you draw the line between frugality and just having some pride in your home? <br />
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Suggestions welcome. <br />
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-91610034032338022072013-05-16T14:56:00.000-04:002013-05-16T14:56:04.815-04:00I've Moved....<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
But I don't know how to work anything yet over there! And I don't have time to figure it out...<br />
Ahhh! But, since I have moved, I thought I would give anyone still lurking around here my new address, my very own "dotcom". Who'da thought I would ever have my very own url? I certainly never thought I would bother. Turns out, my brother bothered for me, registering www.truedaughterofmary.com without ever telling me, in case I ever decided I wanted it. Sooo, I decided I might as well use it, right? So, from now on, or whenever I get my blog blogging again, I can be found over there. Over where?<br />
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
Oh yeah... <a href="http://www.truedaughterofmary.com/">www.truedaughterofmary.com</a> - that's where!</h3>
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-80379985219171071302013-02-12T17:12:00.002-05:002013-02-12T17:12:59.610-05:00Papa Ben...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am a great lover of this Pope, Pope Benedict XVI. I think he is a truly holy man who has done great things for the church, both before and during his papacy. I had a friend on facebook who is not Catholic ask me what Catholics are really thinking and feeling about Pope Benedict. I thought I would post my reply and ask the people who read me regularly to post their thoughts as well, since I think many of them are Catholic as well. So, here goes:<br />
<br />
<br />
Hi Steve,<br />
I LOVE when people ask questions! Honestly, I have heard a little of what the media is saying, but mostly ignoring. The pope is simply stepping down because he is old. When he was about to be elected pope, he told everyone he prayed that this passed him by because he was already 78. No longer is the pope's role to just sit and study and pray, as it used to be. He must now travel the globe, do many strenuous Masses, and sit on many meetings, write continuously, make clear, concise decisions. He must oversee the Vatican, which is a small country unto itself.<br />
It used to be that the body died before the mind was lost, for the most part. Now, modern medicine keeps the body alive far longer. The pope wrote about this before and during his papacy. He always has strongly felt that a pope must step down if he feels he is no longer able to serve properly. If he feels somehow incapacitated, either physically or mentally. In his last several trips he has stopped to pray for guidance at the tombs of some significant people in the church. One was the tomb of the last pope who stepped down, 600 years ago. The pope has always had the right to step down when he feels it is the best decision, though it has rarely been exercised.<br />
I hope this answered your question. I have actually read some of his writings from when he was just Cardinal Ratzinger. He really is a good and gentle, holy man. I think he is right in stepping down, and I hope and pray he is allowed to spend his remaining days in peace. He loves Christ and His Holy Church, and I truly believe he is only doing what he thinks is right. He is only human, after all, with what is probably the hardest job in the world. 85 years old, and he has lead us beautifully for the last 8 years.<br />
Thanks again for asking, I really, really would love to answer a question rather than have someone make assumptions. Blessings!<br />
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I think that about sums up my feelings on the matter. I have loved this Pope. I think Catholics generally have strong feelings for the leader of the Catholic church, especially when he is a good and holy pope. Pope Benedict has done a very good job of electing very good, very faithful men to be bishops, archbishops and cardinals. I think he has been planning this for a very long time. I pray the rest of the world comes to an understanding of what is really happening, rather than just making foolish assumptions about the church.<br />
<br />
A couple of great commentaries:<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/06UP2qHCxWg" width="560"></iframe><br />
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http://video.today.msnbc.msn.com/today/50780573#50780573<br />
<br />
</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-36220978703582184902013-01-26T16:02:00.000-05:002013-01-26T16:02:25.477-05:00Thoughts on Feminism...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I posted something about Roe V. Wade on Facebook the other day (because that <i>never</i> happens) and had a comment from someone that basically said "You asked for all this, be careful what you wish for." I responded that <i>I</i> hadn't wished for any of this. That response got me thinking, though. What do I really feel about feminism? I know that I feel it got twisted and misunderstood. I know that it was used as a propaganda machine of radical "feminists" who pushed for things that most women never wanted. But, had I been born just a few years earlier, what would I have wanted out of the feminist movement? What would it have meant to me, as a woman, as a mother?<br />
<br />
I think that feminism began with all the right intentions. Women are human beings - equal to man in intellect, importance and worth. We have a right to certain things, voting, owning property, to not be regarded as property. I think if a woman is doing the same job as a man, in most cases she should make the same money. That is, if she is willing to work as hard as a man is willing to work.<br />
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Where I think feminism went all wrong was the sexual revolution. Making sex outside of marriage common place and celebrated diminished sex. It took the reverence away from the act. Add in the birth control pill, and now men are free to use women without consequence, and they have convinced women that that is a good thing. Add abortion into it, and not only do you have sex without children, but you have torn away from women what it IS to be a woman. To encourage, force, enable a woman to kill her own child? It is the same as ripping out her heart. Yet we as a society have done this so much that many women have turned their motherly instincts off. They have walled off their hearts to the truth that they hold deep down inside. <br />
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I think women actually hold a very special place in humanity, as do men. Women are by <i>nature </i>care givers, nurturers. Men are by <i>nature</i> providers. We both have biological drives. To deny these biological drives is to diminish our very nature. Why shouldn't we embrace the gifts God has given us, so that we each perform our rolls to the best of our abilities? Now, I know that some men are better nurturers, and some women are career driven. Fine.. I actually happen to be married to a very nurturing man. And, I happen to like bringing in some of the money our family needs. However, I know for certain that my husband would never be happy being the sole care giver - he needs to work, he needs to be the provider. Quite honestly, I just wouldn't look at him quite the same way if he wanted to stay home all day and I am sure he wouldn't quite know what to make of me if I suddenly decided I didn't want to stay with the kids and rock the babies and nurse and bake and all the other things mothers do.<br />
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I am just trying to say that men and women are different. Very, very different. The last 40 or so years of everyone trying to deny that are just ridiculous. Why aren't these differences celebrated? I am honored to have a gentlemanly husband who shovels walks for me, opens doors for me, carries heavy things for me (and ensures that our boys do these things) makes sure my car is gassed up and running properly. I am honored that he thinks I need to be taken care of in these ways. Women are special. We hold a special place in society. We are the gentler sex, and that's not a bad thing! I hope I am raising sons who think women are special. Who respect the intelligence of their mother, sisters and someday wives. Who know that women are worthy of their protection. Men who will defend their women under any circumstances. Men who appreciate all the gifts a woman will grace them with if they are treated properly and given the respect and admiration they deserve.<br />
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So what do I want from feminism? I want the world to acknowledge that women are good. We are special. We are intelligent creatures worthy of respect. We need the protection of men and know it. We appreciate it when we receive it, and remember it when we do not. We have soft hearts...the softest place reserved for the man who loves us, and for the children who come from that love. <br />
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I have a few words to say about the role of men in society - but I will save that for the next post...</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-76565737935823940722013-01-22T19:48:00.001-05:002013-01-22T20:02:31.513-05:0040 Years of Roe...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was up late the other night, nursing and rocking Miss Priscilla and flipping channels. I landed on some show that followed two women through pregnancy as they made adoption plans for their babies. I thought "Wow! These ladies are having their babies, choosing to give birth to them and place them with loving families." So, I watched. <br />
<br />
The first mother was a young lady of 21. She had gotten pregnant with an ex-boyfriend who wanted to keep the baby, but she felt she wasn't ready to parent and talked him into giving the baby up for adoption.<br />
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The second mother was a 29 year old mother with a 4 year old son. She went through a bad break up, slept with a friend and became pregnant. She went right away for an abortion, but couldn't get one due to a shot she refused to have. She tried to "get rid" of her baby with herbal remedies, but the baby just "stuck". She then found out they were twins. She was rather put out at having to carry twins, but made an adoption plan for them - most of her plan seemed to be about her needs rather than her twins, and when the time came, she almost cheerfully handed them over. The other young mother chose at the last minute to parent her baby daughter.<br />
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The show pointed out a mind set that is boggling to me, and no doubt a product of a society that has been killing it's own children for 40 years now. Over 55 million children have been murdered through abortion in this country. FIFTY FIVE MILLION! How have we fallen so far that so many people feel that it is perfectly acceptable, even good and right, to kill an unborn baby?! How did we get here, after our fore fathers fought for freedom for England and our ancestors fought for freedom from slavery, and even the women in this country fought for freedom to vote and own property. After all that fighting, how is it possible that we can look at innocent children and take away their rights, freedom and lives? We have worked so hard to ensure that so many are free and have rights, yet we destroy the most innocent among us?<br />
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I have often begged for understanding with this. Abortion is not something I can wrap my head around. I have compassion for the women who feel trapped, who don't have anyone to lean on. I really do. I WANT to be the person they lean on! What I don't understand, and never will, is the militant way so many defend abortion. They are so fast to call the baby - who by the way - has been <a href="http://prolifephysicians.org/lifebegins.htm" target="_blank">proven scientifically</a>, not religiously, to be an actual human being from the moment of conception - a tumor that needs to be removed, or a growth, or something less than human. Why do they turn a blind eye, self rightiously, to the fact that a woman doesn't just become pregnant through some mysterious source? A baby does not appear as a cancer, she must act, make a choice for that child to come into being. Why do they seem to forget this? You are pro-choice? Good - I encourage you to make the choice NOT to have sex and therefore not become pregnant. Oh, I forgot, <a href="http://www.lifenews.com/2013/01/11/planned-parenthood-abandons-pro-choice-term-on-abortion/" target="_blank">they are not calling it "pro-choice" anymore</a>. I forget why - not a strong enough message or something. <br />
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My point with all of this was to demonstrate what 40 years of Roe v. Wade has done to our nation. Our society used to treasure children. We knew how precious they are. Now, children are regularly veiwed as a burden. Babies are gifts, people. The best, most wonderous gift. Please, open your hearts to them. Love the ones Our Lord chooses to bless you with, however they come to you. Encourage your own children and the ones you have influence with to love children, to protect them, to find delight in them. <br />
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I pray that one day soon, we will all be celebrating when this country finally recognizes the travesty that has been occurring for the last 40 years and puts an end to it. Pray this is the last anniversary Roe ever sees.<br />
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And finally, if you are experiencing a crisis pregnancy - reach out to me, I can help. Or a pregnancy center, or your church. Just ask for help. There are so very many people waiting to help you - no matter if you want to raise your baby, or place your baby for adoption. You are not trapped, you are not alone, you and your child, are loved not just by God, but by many. <br />
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"It is a poverty to decide that a child must die so that you may live as you wish." - Blessed Teresa of Calcutta</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-43441903931918120032012-12-31T13:57:00.001-05:002012-12-31T13:57:26.941-05:002012...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well, I can't say I spent 2012 blogging, but so very much happened this year. So many blessings. If you have known me for any amount of time whatsoever, you know that I LOVE the holidays. They make me all mushy and in love with life. My inner teacher comes screaming out and I end up with projects and fun things for everyone to do. Beginning with the feast of St. Nicholas and straight on through New Years I tend to find love everywhere I look.<br />
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I don't know what it is about Christmastime that I love so much. Mass makes me weepy, the thought of Mary welcoming her newborn Son, knowing somewhere in her heart that He is not meant just for her, but for all, and that it will not be easy. Every song sung makes me cry. I have gotten used to it, but my kids still shoot me weird looks when I cry through a Mass. I'm a weirdo, what can I say? The gravity, and levity and enormity of it all settles on my heart during Mass and makes me cry.<br />
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2012 brought with it an enormous amount of healing in the arrival of my Sweet Priscilla Grace. I know how this will sound to any of my children reading this, but she is special. She was sent to heal my heart. She is a promise from the Lord. I could see her so clearly before she was even conceived. I am so very, very grateful for her. I hope that my children who may read this understand it as I mean it. I love every single one of them. I love them all so very much and each one, individually, has been the absolute best thing to ever happen to me. I have had the time of my life with these kids. Gosh, all I ever wanted was to live in a little house with a wonderful husband and revel in the joy of lots and lots of babies. How blessed I have been to have been given exactly what I have always wanted.<br />
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2012 also brought with it some changes in work schedules and duties and while that is still just changing and really getting under way, I am so thrilled to be working in a position that I truly think will give the company the best I have to offer, and that I have work to do for which I truly think I am suited. What a blessing, to feel as though you have something to offer! A new schedule means that I am now in the office 2 days a week, which has been a challenge. But, working in the office so much has also meant that I have not had to try and stay up until 2am trying to get things done. That has been such a blessing with a newborn!<br />
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This year has also brought changes for our older girls. Megan graduated from her cosmetology program and got a job three hours away. She moved out and left me here. I miss her so much, but she has been able to come home a good bit. I am so proud of her for making her own way in the world, and hope she really makes wonderful friends and has a wonderful time in her youth, before she becomes a wife and a mother someday.<br />
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Elizabeth graduated with a degree in education and will be doing her student teaching this spring. From there, we don't know yet where the future will take her, but I am proud of her for getting through school - something not everyone manages, and I know she will be a great teacher someday!<br />
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My little Luke, like me, is so glad that Christmas isn't really over yet. We celebrate the Feast of the Epiphany on January 6th, and will continue to make merry until then, when the children will open their stockings (again) and find three small gifts, and we will take everything down and put it away until next year. For now though, we will gather with family and friends, and make the most of what the season has to offer. It's not over yet! Merry Christmas and Happy, Blessed New Year to you all!<br />
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<br /></div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-31985616296613374532012-12-04T16:57:00.001-05:002012-12-04T16:57:26.484-05:00Priscilla Grace at 6 Weeks...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2tFeHrHysCTh6L-WbonTD0bUaihB1BtWj11EdPdG-RrdWVIyrwAY5vLdFj81MPMTcYdnLpXuhD-N_lkyyRqaTNheHiAaCFIzuYcdeX4Kc4k7bBf0A3u6txGhYZNsq81uJOh-w10RS3fz/s1600/IMG_0547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi2tFeHrHysCTh6L-WbonTD0bUaihB1BtWj11EdPdG-RrdWVIyrwAY5vLdFj81MPMTcYdnLpXuhD-N_lkyyRqaTNheHiAaCFIzuYcdeX4Kc4k7bBf0A3u6txGhYZNsq81uJOh-w10RS3fz/s320/IMG_0547.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
This little baby is just so special. I am overwhelmed with love for her, which is not too surprising, as I really love little babies, especially my little babies. But she feels special. She was born after a devastating loss, and I think I treasure her so much more because of that. Her pregnancy was perfect, even though I was "elderly multi-gravida" - old lady who has had lots of babies, and even though I was at risk for gestational diabetes. I never developed it, thankfully. <br />
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Priscilla Grace has been blessed by everyone. We have been given so many gifts for her, and as a 10th child - that never ceases to amaze me. She has been welcomed by our church and family, but even strangers, upon hearing that she is number 10, declare her a blessing. I think our world is changing, just a little. I honestly think that people are starting to soften their hearts where babies and children are concerned. In the early years of my motherhood, when I would run around town with just 5 or 6 little ones in tow, I would get dirty looks and even nasty comments. These days, dirty looks and nasty comments seem to be far, far outweighed by delighted surprise and amazement, with a good dose of oohing and aahhing over her obvious beauty and lovely demeanor. Okay, I might be a little biased, but I do get plenty of ooohs and aahhs over her!<br />
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These photos were taken when she was 6 weeks old. She is now 12 weeks old, and I have been having the time of my life with her. Her brothers love her, her sisters absolutely adore her, and I dare say her big sister Megan wishes she could take her home. A tenth child is the opposite of a burden. She is pure love, pure blessing. I am so very thankful God saw fit to send this precious little girl to us. <br />
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True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-80561500241612362352012-12-04T16:32:00.001-05:002012-12-04T16:32:32.608-05:00Need vs. Want...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This one has been keeping my brain busy for a while now. We have 10 kids running around this house. Granted, one has flown the coop, but she comes home pretty regularly. We live in an 1800 square foot house. One bathroom is down for the count until we find the funds to get it fixed. Frustrating for sure, BUT. We have a house. It has indoor plumbing. All of our children are warm and clothed and fed. They need nothing, really.<br />
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So, my dilemma. Our house does not function for us well. It is crowded and people can't get into the restroom when they need to. There is no where we can all sit down together. Like, at all. We just don't fit. Do I have the right to want something more, when we have so much and many others have nothing? I whine about the plumbing and the lack of space. But do we really NEED more space or do I just WANT more space? Is it greedy to want more when we have what we have? Or is it perfectly acceptable to wish for enough space that my family can all watch a movie together?<br />
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I'm an American, but I am Catholic first. So which side of me is being served by staying in a home that is too small for our family by American standards, but is more than adequate and downright luxurious by other standards? Even in America we have more than many, maybe even more than most. I just can't figure out what I should be wishing and praying about in regards to this house. That I can figure out how to make it work? That we find the nearly unimaginable means to buy a bigger home? Or that I find enough grace to quit whining and appreciate what I do have?<br />
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I don't know what the right thing is. My kids get annoyed that there is pretty much zero privacy here, as we all shower in the basement. But then my mind flashes to pictures of starving children and homeless people, and I know we are blessed to have that shower in the basement and the bread in the cupboard. <br />
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If I pray for a way to buy a bigger home, will God be angry at my greed? My lack of appreciation for what He has already given? Or will He understand that right here, in this time and place, far from work and family, in a too small house, spending nearly $800 a month on gasoline, that a bigger house, closer to work is a need, as much as a want? Because I am here, in America. I do need to work, as does my husband. We do have 10 children, by the grace of His will. Is it okay to pray that we find a way to buy a home that better suites our needs, or is it just plain greedy?</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-52439152409038768342012-11-16T21:02:00.000-05:002012-11-16T21:08:07.029-05:00Blooming...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As I sit here, with a newborn baby, my oldest is preparing to leave the nest. Tomorrow morning she is packing up her car and moving three hours away for a job, her own space, and yes, a boy. <br />
I am so very, very proud of her for getting the skills she wanted and pursuing a career that really is just. so. her. But I am so sad she is leaving. <br />
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When she was little we called her Meggie Boomer because every time she fell down, we all said "BOOM!". By "we all" I mean me, my siblings (three of 'em) and my parents. She grew up in a household where she was the loved and adored granddaughter and niece for her first four years. As she grew, and fell less often, we would say she was blooming, and from that she got the nickname "Bloomer", which has stuck ever since. I think it is such an appropriate nickname for this girl, now a young woman who has bloomed so much. I know it is only right that she outgrow the crank and angst of her teens, but she has blossomed into a bright, lovely young woman. She graduated cosmetology school in August and set about finding a job, and has recently secured one - in far off Findlay. Our area just really doesn't have a whole lot to offer right now, and she is thankful for the job. <br />
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I just can't believe she won't be here for our nightly powwows, she and her sisters all piled into my bed or on the couch together, quoting movies and singing silly songs. Giving make up and hair tips or comparing false eyelashes (they are a really girly bunch). I can't believe she'll be three hours away, living with some girl I have never met. I hope they like one another. <br />
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I can't fathom that I won't find her oatmeal dishes or diet coke cans on the table beside "her seat" every morning because despite yells and threats, she never puts her dishes in the dishwasher or throws her cans away. <br />
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The first time she left home, to move to college, she was only 45 minutes away and it was too soon for both of us. She was home a semester later, though still attending classes. Dorm life just wasn't for her...or me. I only called her three times a day for six weeks. After that I was able to cut back to just once or twice a day. <br />
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This <a href="http://truedaughterofmary.blogspot.com/2012/11/blooming.html" target="_blank">girl has had my heart</a> since long before I laid eyes on her. She makes me SO MAD, but I love her so much. She was the first person I ever really fell head over heels for. I have since done that time and again, but she was the first. My first baby. My first reason to not be selfish. My reason to get an education. My reason to exist for a while there. We made it through some rough stuff together, and I am so thankful for her. She have me a different life than the one I thought I would have. I thought I would move out with my sister into an apartment we would decorate with posters and fun pillows. Live there until we each met the man of our dreams and got married in lovely, somewhat splashy weddings. Instead, because of her, I met a single dad who knew when his daughter's pants needed sewing and did it. I met the man who has kept my heart beating on so many occassions and still, eightteen years later makes it race. <br />
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Because of her I had to grow up pretty fast, but I loved every minute of her, every second of her and have never regretted any of it. I hope she now gets to go do the things I never got to, and loves every second, and then gets to do the things I love the most in the world, becoming a wife and a mama. Good luck, my beautiful girl. You are always in my prayers, and we will always be your safe place to land should you ever need it. I love you.</div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-12679747000120386962012-10-10T15:55:00.001-04:002012-10-10T15:55:58.195-04:00Weird...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day we lost the twins. It doesn't feel like it was a year ago already, kind of expected my post partum depression to be twice as bad, because I was lost the twins in October, and was pregnant again by December. I am thankful that it really hasn't materialized yet. I have been weepy today, but that doesn't surprise me. I get weepy at the thought of those little boys, even a year out. It's just sort of a weird place to be. I am so, so thrilled that I have my Priscilla Grace, and and thankful for her healthy pregnancy and successful VBAC. At the same time, I think that if we had had our twins, I wouldn't even be pregnant with her. I wouldn't have her at all. Maybe not ever. I know God wasn't asking me to choose, and that I don't have to choose. I have my babies in heaven, and I have my sweet Priscilla Grace, here, in my arms. <br />
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We've never even gone to see where the boys are buried. I want to, but I kind of know that will bring on a firestorm. I just don't have the energy to deal with that. I love them, and I want to think of them as the sweet babies they are, at Christ's feet, listening to the angels sing. So, tomorrow, instead of going to the cemetary, I will take my baby over to church for a while, and buy some flowers to lay at Our Lady's feet. I'll pray that George and Gabriel are watching over us, and being our own little intercessors, and that they are happy that we have Priscilla Grace. I'll tell them how much I love them, and all our babies in heaven. We have six in heaven, what a crowd to welcome me when it is my turn. God knows perhaps, that I will need babies even in heaven. </div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-812404230661576595.post-87415101581282091722012-10-08T17:32:00.002-04:002012-10-08T17:37:48.559-04:00Princess Priscilla Pants...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3 weeks</td></tr>
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My sweet lil baby weighs 10 pounds, 2 ounces. Safe to say she is a good eater. She and I have spent the last 3.5 weeks nuzzling, eating, changing and eating some more. I always love having a new baby. It is hands down my favorite thing in the world. The smell of the sweet breath, the staring into your eyes, the way she listens and then turns towards my voice. All of it bioligically programmed to make me love her, and boy o boy does it work. My heart trips every time I hear her cry, every sound she makes. Even her diapers smell good to me - what is that? She is all warm and fuzzy and new. And I am loving every single second with her. Her dad is too, we kind of duke it out at night - who gets to sleep with her in the chair...she has a little bit of reflux and trying to lay her down just makes her spit up and spit up, poor baby. So we just hold her. It's a legit reason to just hold her every second, right? I am sure I will not regret never putting her down. Totally.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2.5 weeks...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-VHhKz8hPdskEmOfTXbu4wsmwPBBdLQEeeZxgkZQIerrc8WNIMEAU6YTL8WNXvUQHh8RDYcVBgVYFHXGrJ09EJNu3GXpitwX81JUg4kVaB9smYcM6M3CgSohf02806vbrWLgrj3MuPFZ/s1600/Priscilla+Birth+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt-VHhKz8hPdskEmOfTXbu4wsmwPBBdLQEeeZxgkZQIerrc8WNIMEAU6YTL8WNXvUQHh8RDYcVBgVYFHXGrJ09EJNu3GXpitwX81JUg4kVaB9smYcM6M3CgSohf02806vbrWLgrj3MuPFZ/s320/Priscilla+Birth+009.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just a few minutes old here...</td></tr>
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This time around, I knew it would be extra special, because I am so very thankful she made it. Losing the twins made me fearful, and losing Yeb's twin the pregnancy before, and the other losses, all started to make it seem like perhaps childbearing wasn't a good idea for me anymore. But, God knew better. He knew my heart needed this wee tiny girl. He was so, so right. And after 4 boys in a row, I was really, really ready for another girl. I am a little ashamed at the sheer glee I felt at hearing she would be a girl, and then when we saw her, all slimy and white, but definitely a girl, I was thrilled. She was so round and soft and beautiful. <br />
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I know I said I would write her birth story, and I will, but that should be a post of it's own. It's a little long, and I want to write it down when I have a little time to think. For some reason I have few real memories of the day. Just flashes and impressions for the most part, and some of it must have been in my head, because Douglas says some of the stuff that I remember didn't even happen. Nope, no drugs (until after, because I thought I heard the doc say something he didn't say). Just foggy memory. <br />
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In the meantime, I am sorry for the lack of posts - I am OLD, people. Pregnancy kicked my behind this time around. And Miss Priscilla Princess Pants likes to eat at night - as in, all night, so I am running on very little sleep. Not that that is an excuse for not posting. Maybe sleep deprived posts are better than no posts, but they should at least be coherent. <br />
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Before I go, though, I have to say that people never cease to amaze me. Here we are on Baby #10, and so many people brought meals, and gifts and sent cards. We feel so blessed. I have heard lots of moms say that people just don't bother after baby #2 or #3. Our little Priscilla has been welcomed by so many, and we really appreciate all the love and welcome. </div>
True Daughter of Maryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02497945822170843088noreply@blogger.com2