Junior

One of the many things we've figured our after having so many children is that there is a "cuteness peak" in each child.  It is usually somewhere during his 2nd or 3rd year (I say "his" because I stick to the traditional use of the masculine when speaking of a generic individual), but it varies between boys and girls and from child to child.  You know your child is somewhere at his peak when he says or does something so cute that you get an indescribable swell of adoration in your chest and think that you couldn't POSSIBLY love him any more than you do at that moment.

But the very next day, he does something EVEN CUTER, and you have to Facebook about it, because everyone you know must see that your child is THE cutest thing on the face of this planet.

At some point, however, it fades.  When he looks at you with that pout, it's suddenly disrespectful instead of quirky.  And when he comes to hug you, his face is no longer pressed against your knees.  It's.....somewhere else.  NOT so cute.

And he has to remind you of the time you caught him with all the tape off the roll, but said "There were only TWO pieces!" and everyone laughed.  Only it's not funny this time.

So alas, we all outlive our ability to be adorable.

But our 3 year old Stephen Jr.--with his liquid brown eyes, his immense love for his baby sister, and his inexorable ability to make us smile just by saying "Good morning, Dad!"--is most likely at his peak right now.

My heart swells.

Martha, Martha

Over a year ago, my husband let me have my way (again) and name our 6th daughter Martha.  Yes, I know it's a bit old-fashioned a name for a baby girl these days, but I just have such a...shall we say....connection to St. Martha. 

It has taken me many years to understand that Jesus wasn't just telling Martha to "suck it up" and do her job; to stop pestering her sister who was lucky enough to choose sitting at his feet and listening to him over cooking and cleaning after those Twelve Hungry Men.

I always thought Martha got a raw deal.  Why couldn't Mary help her so she'd at least have a little time with Christ, too?  Or for that matter, those lazy men could have peeled the potatoes or cleared the dishes, no?

Okay, okay.  So Martha was impatient and exasperated.  She was tired and frustrated.  And she felt completely unappreciated. 

I have SO been there.  And yes, I've complained and whined about it, too.  Did it do me any good? Um...what do you think?
 
So I've lately come to this virtuous conclusion: Feeling sorry for myself and being grouchy to all these needy people I live with not only makes them all miserable, but it makes me unhappy, too.  

How's that for a revelation! Bet no one ever thought it before!

Sure, I know that I ought to work cheerfully and selflessly, but it's easier said than done.  It's a constant battle.  One that I lose--a lot.  But working on my attitude is just as important for my soul as exercising and eating healthy is for my body.

Oops.  This post was supposed to be about our sweet Martha, wasn't it? Well, there's not much to say about her, except that she's the World's Cutest Baby, and our home pretty much revolves around her.  The other children cater to her darling whims, her father is silly putty in her dainty hands, and I simply can't kiss her enough.  I think it's going to be very hard for me to wean this one. 


 
P.S.  Here's an interesting homework assignment for anyone reading this: Find a word--a noun--that means the opposite of "grump," or "grouch," or "crab."

Spiritus truths

I WILL write everyday!  Even if it's only a few sentences!

So instead of telling you something about my eldest or youngest child, I will tell you about my day.  It is my 7th child's 11th birthday.  (Which is why I am only just now getting to my journal, and also why I am making it VERY brief.  You can thank me later.)

So I spent my day washing dishes by hand (since our dishwasher is broken--but the repair guy is coming here tomorrow--for the 3rd time), making home made Italian sausage with fresh herbs from our garden, and making cake and baking pizzas for our daughter's birthday dinner. 

I think she had a good day, though.  So I'm not sorry to have been unable to complete my "to do" list, which includes the following:

1) Finish cleaning out the fridge (which I started yesterday),
2) grade my son's Algebra II lesson (he's doing a bit of summer school),
3) EXERCISE (that really hurts),
4) purge my email some more (I'm now under 500 in my inbox)
5) work on the stacks/boxes of papers that desperately need sorting and organizing (I even bought file boxes MONTHS ago for just such a purpose),
6) write in my online journal (wait, I'm actually DOING that!)
7) work on the children's story I started writing
8) read another essay by G.K. Chesterton ( a personal goal of mine for the summer).

HOWEVER, I have had at least 2 glasses of wine, so it was a good night. 

Baby Talk

It has been pointed out to me that with 13 kids, I should have plenty to write about, and I suppose that's true, except for the fact that I really do love my kids, and my sole purpose on earth is not to embarrass them.  Or myself, for that matter.

I exaggerate.  My kids are really pretty wonderful, and I can tell PLENTY of stories showing just how wonderful they are.

It really amazes me how so many children with the same two parents can be so very different from each other.  People say that they all have physical similarities, but I guess because I live with them, all I see are their differences.

When they were each learning to talk, more or less around a year old, they ALL (yes all 13 of them) said "Da-da" for their first words.  (Actually their first words were all "MOM!" But it sounded just like "FOOD!" or "DIAPER!" or "SCARED!" Which all sound like "WAAAAA!")

What is wonderfully interesting is what word (or words) each child has learned to say second.  Their second words have all been different.  I'm sure this list will be fascinating to all of you, especially those who've never even met my kids. 

James: thank you
Catherine: baby
Thomas: eat
Henry: scotch (the drink, not the tape)
Luke: kiss
Monica: Monica (yes, she said her OWN name)
Maria: ma-ma (Hooray!! My favorite child! And yes, I did coach her--a lot.)
Lydia: dog
Sophia: James (and won her eldest brother's heart forever)
Philip: this? (said as a question, while pointing to something for which he wanted to learn the word)
Albert: Desitin (poor kid's behind was VERY familiar with this stuff, so he heard that word a ton)
Stephen Jr.: don't touch (ahem)
Martha: gentle

These words do actually say something about each of their personalities, but I will talk about each child individually over the next....13 posts!  (Now I don't have to come up with another topic for two weeks!)

Don't Be Shy....Please!

Did I mention that I really need to learn how to write?  Okay, maybe NEED is a bit too strong.  I just want to be able to put my thoughts on paper (or internet) and have them sound as smart as they do in my head.  'Cause every time I try to put my brilliance out there for the benefit of others, it comes out sounding something like "Uh......."

I do know that one way to become a good writer is to read.  A lot.  I'm hoping romance novels count.  Okay, not really.  But I've only just BEGUN to try to read stuff that I have to actually concentrate on, like works from famous scholars such as Drs. Aquinas, Pieper, or Seuss.  (Actually, I've been trying to learn from that last one all my life.)

One thing I've been told (mainly by my husband) is that brevity is very important.  Ahem.  Since he's a good writer, I know he's not just telling me to shut up.  You've heard the claim:  "If I had more time, I'd have written a shorter letter."  Well, I need to learn how to get my thoughts across clearly and succinctly.

Also, I've heard that I should write every day.  And I'm already trying to do that.  I sure hope there's a better reason for that other than torturing anyone who stumbles across my posts each day or causing my Facebook friends to "unsubscribe all status updates" out of sheer boredom. 

I know that writing takes a structured mind.  I learned in 5th grade English that a paragraph should have a topic sentence, supporting sentences, and concluding sentence.  I also learned in 6th grade English that you can take said topic sentence and make it into an introductory paragraph, the supporting sentences become supporting paragraphs, and the concluding sentence can be made into a (surprise!) concluding paragraph.  But this doesn't tell me WHAT to write.  Like what words to put down in what order and all that.

How can I blame my kids for weeping over their writing assignments, when I still get hives at the thought of taking a single topic and producing an essay that will be turned over to an evaluator who will scribble all over it in red pen, giving me helpful and specific advice like "Too vague" or "Expand upon this." 

So I need advice.  Helpful advice.  LOTS of helpful advice.  Hit me.

What's in a Name?

My husband pointed out to me that my FIRST blog entry should have explained the name of my journal. Oops. Here's the story:

Back when I was young and naive, I was expecting our fourth child. We were attending a party at my in-laws' house, and the guests included long time friends of the family who were the proud parents of TWELVE children, most of whom were married with children of their own. Still, any time you'd ask this lovely Irish couple how many children they had, the husband would invariably say "Twelve....so far," with a knowing twinkle in his eye and a nudge to his wife, who would just smile and shake her head at him.

I was only about half-way through my pregnancy, but was already showing plenty. When she saw me, Mrs. Miggins exclaimed with joy over my condition and placed a tender hand on my belly. She asked me in her lovely, lilting Irish brogue: "Have you felt life yet?"

Now I've been asked many times over the years if I'd felt the baby moving, or if I'd experienced "quickening," and the like, but never before and never since have I been asked about my child's movements in such a beautiful way.

Had I felt life yet?

Any mother who, immediately after giving birth, watches her newborn baby wiggling his head around and kicking the air with his feet, recognizes those same movements from when the child was in her womb. They are signs that he is alive.

So, yes. I'd felt life. And it is the most wonderful feeling in the whole world.

The Birth of a Blog

They say that the first sentence in any speech (or in this case--a blog) is the hardest. 

Whew! Glad that's over.

So I went and did it--I started a blog.

First things first:  A little bio--I am currently the mother to 13 children, ages 1 to 20.  Of those 13, I am home schooling 8 (or 9--I wouldn't want to leave out the one who is MOST excited about starting Kindergarten, even though he won't be 5 until next February).  They range in grades from Kindergarten to Senior in high school. 

Ha!  We're a one room school house!  Except that we work in 2 or 3 rooms of the house. 

So anyway, last weekend I attended our annual IHM National Home School Conference in Fredericksburg, Virginia, and it made me realize two very important things:

1.) I am actually doing a fairly good job with regard to organization of our school and home.  (I owe a LOT of this to my husband who would make a stellar drill sergeant.)

and

2.) I have more to learn than is humanly possible in one lifetime.

Le sigh.

STILL--I am I.N.S.P.I.R.E.D.

I am inspired to be a better person; a better wife; a better mother.  And I really, really need to learn how to write, so I can help my kids learn how to write.  And in order to do that, I must EDUCATE myself.  In order to educate myself, I must read.  A lot.  And write.  A lot.  And spend less time on Facebook.  Dang.

As a teenager and young woman, I kept a journal(s) of my thoughts, dreams, experiences, etc.  I think it's a good thing for anyone to do.  So that's what I'm doing now.  Only instead of tucking it away in my nightstand drawer or packing it up in a storage box in the attic, I'm putting it out in cyberspace where it will NEVER GO AWAY.  So I must be a little more careful about what I say, right?

Still, I will try to keep it honest.

I just have one request for the two people who might actually read this blog (hi, mom!):

Please give me suggestions for topics.