Saturday, December 17, 2005

Fourth Sunday in Advent

Can it really be the fourth Sunday in Advent with only four days until my daughters are home with the rest of us to celebrate Christmas? Do I really only have 6 days left to prepare for Christmas? It feels as if it was only yesterday that I was planning all of these wonderful things we were going to do to prepare throughout Advent.

Of which I have only accomplished a quarter. And it is tempting to feel as though I have failed. But the real question is has it been peaceful in our home? Have we enjoyed each other's company and grown in charity? I think I can say, yes we have.

No, we have not done all the crafts and activities that I wanted to do, but we have written to friends, family and even some strangers. We have welcomed people into our home and shared hot coffee with strangers who were temporaily employed to work outside in the cold. We welcomed them into our home and they were cheered by the warmth and some of our Canadian chocolates that friends gave us as an early Christmas gift.

We have enjoyed fires in the fireplace and roasted marshmellows. We have been blessed by a wonderful teacher who is giving freely of her time to help educate our children in the area of religion. And they are learning so much more than religion!

So while my crafts lay by the wayside, we have enjoyed peace and love and many blessings. I can only pray that everyone who reads my blog has been as blessed.

And now - the countdown begins and I need to be more watchful than ever. Is it not in the last homestretch that statistics say that most road accidents happen? It will be tempting to stress out over ribbons, bows and baking, finding the perfect tree and last minute stocking stuffers but ultimatly - what matters most is that the heart of the home stays calm, quiet and collected so that the rest of the family can also be calm, quiet and collected.

After all, the baking will soon be eaten, and the bows ultimatly thrown out and stocking stuffers lost, broken and forgotten. But the peace of a happy family reunion, that will all too soon be over, is what counts most of everything. And that is what I, the heart of our home, need to stay focussed on.

Blessings to you all!
mum2twelve aka Christi Read more!

New Challenges!

Good Morning! I have not been online much as I am trying to learn how to create a website. I love blogging BUT I want to have more creative input in how my page looks and what I can put on it. Here I can upload a picture but I only have three choices as to where the picture goes; right, left or center and ONLY at the top of the page. Somehow, way back when, I managed to get a picture into the middle of a post but can not remember how I did that and have not been able to do it since.

I want to publish stories that I have written and ones that I am working on. I have learned from talking to other authors that there is not much money in publishing a book unless, of course, you happen to be a JK Rowling or a John Grisham. While I think I am a good writer, I seriouly doubt that my stories will catch fire like theirs have and so publishing in the old fashioned way will not likely garnish me any money. And like anyone else - I like money as in I like being able to pay my rent and I prefer not to have my power turned off. You know - the simple pleasures in life! And if I can bring in a few dollars doing something I enjoy - why not try it! So my plan is to add a donation button to the website and those who enjoy my writing and would like to support my endeavors are free to do so or not. :-)

So hopefully sometime in the very near future I will produce a website dedicated to stories written for a Catholic audience mostly, as in the Catholic culture will be predominate in the childrens lives that I write about. But not always, as you will see from the story that I have posted today. Anna will also continue to illustrate for me, and I am especially looking foward to that. The other children will also have a hand in what I will do on this website. This website will not replace what I am doing here - writing about the challenges of being a mum2twelve, but rather will be an addition to what I have here. God willing!

I would very much love to have some feedback from you as to how much you enjoyed or did not enjoy the story below. This story has been written more to entertain parents but my children enjoyed hearing it as well and told me in no uncertain terms that they felt the adventures of Davie were not over. I believe they are right and I am hoping we will see more of Davie in the future.

Please feel free to email comments to if you would prefer to comment privately.

Thank you in advance for taking the time to correspond with me!
mum2twelve aka Christi Read more!

Davie's Sunny Day Adventures

The warm sun played peek a boo with Davie through his curtains and the branches from the oak outside swayed gently, causing shadows to dance across his eyelids and tickle him awake. He rubbed his arm across his face while he stretched like a kitten just getting up from a nap. It was very quiet as he tossed the blankets back. He lay there for a few seconds listening hard. Nope – not a sound. Guess Mama and Daddy must be still sleeping, he thought to himself. He rolled over and let his toes stretch until they touched the cold bare wood and then he slid the rest of the way off his bed, lost his balance and toppled into a pile of bears. He giggled as he wrestled his way out of their paws, scarves and fuzzy ears.
Kerchew! He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and then wiped his hand across the front of his jammies. Glancing down at the yellow stain that glistened he decided it was time to dress himself. He followed the highway of matchbox cars that littered his floor in a haphazard line between his bed and the dresser. Then he scrunched down and pulled the bottom drawer out, hard, with both hands until he plopped onto his bottom. He checked over his shoulder before stepping into this drawer and used the pile of jammies and undies as a step up to the second drawer down from the top. This one he only managed to get partially out and grunted as he stuck his chubby 3 year old paw into it. He was barely able to grasp the t-shirt with his fingers tips and squeezed his eyes tight as he pulled. But his fist, clasped around the neck of his t-shirt, kept him from being able to pull it out. Frustrated he let go. Quietly, he listened again. His ears were still met with silence so he looked about his room, his eyes keen on finding a solution. Mama’s threat from yesterday still hung heavy in his memory.

“Little man, if I find you outside in your long johns, or jammies, one more time this week, your bottom will know it!”

But what to do if he couldn’t reach the dresser drawer with his play clothes in it? The bright sunlight drew his attention to the window where the sun beckoned him to come out and play. It sure was a sunny day. Hmmm, what was it Mamma had said about his new pants?

“These new pants are for Sunday only young man, Sunday, you hear?”

He glanced at the window again. Well, if this was not a sunny day – he didn’t know what was. Deftly he pulled the rocking chair that Grampa had made him, closer to the dresser. First he pulled both knees up onto the seat and then he precariously balanced himself as he wobbled. Quickly he snatched at his new blue pants so neatly folded on the top of his dresser and slowly, with his arms stretched out for balance, sat back down. Sighing he leaned back in his chair, allowed his legs to flop over the seat and closed his eyes for a second. His heart beat loudly in his ears. It quickly slowed to a more regular beat and he slid off the seat. He fumbled with the waist of the pants and decided to sit on the floor before trying to stick his feet into them. He pulled on them until they completely covered his jammie bottoms. It was a tight squeeze and took some time and left him kind of hot. The movement of the branches caught his eye and drew him to the window. He stretched as far as he could until his little toes burned with the effort and still he could not quite catch the clasp that held the panes shut.

Not to be thwarted, he padded across his room on his feet still so well padded with baby fat and stopped in front of his toy box. Stepping firmly on the same pile of bears that had cushioned his escape from bed he struggled with the heavy top of the box until he wrestled it open. He stretched over the side until he managed to grab his little wooden mallet. Well pleased with himself, he scurried back to the window and with this addition to his height he managed to push the clasp up. He pushed his head out the window and smelled deep, drinking in the fresh air as it cooled his hot cheeks. Refreshed, he let go of the window sill and tried to settle back flat on his feet but before he could, his pants caught on a small nail.

With a grunt he pulled back and Davie’s eyes widened as he watched his pants spin a web between him and the window. He backed up some more and grinned as he saw the thread stretch. Wow – just like a spider, he thought. Maybe if enough thread came out he could make a web and catch some bugs. Then he noticed the corresponding hole and stopped pulling. Now he felt more like a prisoner than a spider. He was caught on that nail, with a hole growing faster than a weed. He tried smacking at the thread with his mallet. Several smacks later the thread was well wrapped around the mallet and snapped from the weight. He dropped the mallet in relief and backed away from the window staring at the gaping hole that allowed his jammie bottoms to peek back at him. Nervously he glanced at the bedroom door, and decided it was time to check Mama’s room and see if she was awake and reading from her bible, or if she was still asleep as the continued quiet suggested. First though he had better take his pants off before she saw the hole in them. He stuffed them, still attached to the mallet, under his bears.

Then taking giant steps, he tip toed across the room and his heart skipped a beat when his foot hit a car and sent it skidding into the radiator. Pausing only for a second, he started back on his mission. Shortly his blue eyes were peeking between the door frame and the door. Daddy was snoring and Mama was not reading, in fact her curls were not quite visible under Granma’s blue quilt. As he drew back he noticed the opened door of the bathroom and decided to pay a visit to it. He pushed the door open and his eyes were delighted with the sight of his daddy’s razor and cream set out for his shave. Davie wondered if he could make those big white mountains of snow that Daddy smoothed over his face every morning. He clambered onto the closed toilet and grasped the can in his chubby hands and sat back down on the lid. He starred at the can and wondered how to get the top off. Uncle Rory came to mind and he slapped the can against the sink, trying to mimic his uncle opening a bottle of soda. The lid somersaulted into the tub and twirled to a stop.

Davie smelled the can and then carefully stood back up and leaned into the sink. Clasping the bright red can in his left hand, he stretched until he could turn the water on. Gently, he placed the can on the side of the sink so that he could wrestle the plug into its hole. A wide grin spread across his face as he grasped the can again and with both thumbs pressed down and watched snowy mountains fill the growing lake. His plump cheeks hurt from smiling, this was so much fun. Until he felt drops on his toes and realized his mountains were sliding out of the sink and onto the floor. He drew in a sharp breath as he recalled Mama’s eyes the last time he flooded the bathroom.

“Davie,” she had sighed, “You do that again young man and you had better pack your bags!”

Squaring his shoulders he crept off the toilet seat and hurried to his room. He crawled under his bed and pulled at a small overnight suitcase, the same one Mama said she used when she brought him home from the hospital. She had shown him how she had packed it with his newborn jammies she had brought to the hospital, a blue pair if he were a boy and a pink just in case he had been an Eva instead of a Davie. She had shown him then how to spring the locks open which he did again now. Hurriedly, he pushed it across the floor this time ignoring the cars as they scattered noisily, he needed to pack his bags before Mama found that mess. He wasn’t sure how it would fix it, but he sure didn’t want to see Mama’s eyes look so sad again. He pulled his blue jammies out and his green ones and his spotted ones. He didn’t like the spotted ones so much, but they might help fill his case.

He flipped the lid shut and snapped one lock closed and dragged the case behind him. He slowed down as he passed Mama’s and Daddy’s door and tried to tug it quietly past. He then pulled it down the stairs behind him, hoping the clunks wouldn’t waken them before he found something else to fill the case. As he pulled it into the kitchen, Kittie rose from her corner and greeted him with a Meow.

By now Davie was pretty hungry and it looked like Kittie was too, so he pushed the suitcase over in front of the fridge door and climbed on top so that he could pull the handle open. It flipped open easily as his new height gave a strong advantage he did not normally have. He jumped back as the door swung open, and the case tumbled back as well. On the shelf closest to his normal height he spied the milk jar. Kittie loved to lick up his milk whenever he spilled some, so he thought maybe she would like to share a bowl of it with him. Glancing at the cupboard where Mama kept the dishes he realized that not even his case would him reach a bowl and he knew better than to climb on a kitchen chair. Mama had dusted the seat of his pants enough to teach him better than that. Not to be daunted he decided to simply pour some milk into the suitcase for Kittie. He would have to have his later. Granma was always saying God put us in charge of the animals so we had better care for them well.

He clicked the lock open and then gently poured the bottle of milk in. Kittie licked her lips and daintily pulled herself up onto the side of the suitcase with her pretty white paws. She could not quite reach the milk that was quickly soaking into the spotted jammies so Davie decided to give her a hand and lifted her little bottom off the ground until she slipped into the suitcase. Before Kittie had a chance to register what had happened to her, Davie popped the lid closed. He locked the snaps and sat down. It was such a sunny day, maybe he and Kittie could have a picnic out by the Granpa’s garden. He was tired of bending over to push the suitcase here and there, so he looked for something he could pull it with. Under the sink he found some of Granma’s string that Mama was always complaining about her saving. He pulled it though the handle on the top of the case and started to pull it across the floor. He had just made it across the porch and reached the stairs when he heard Mama wail his name from above him. He looked up at the second floor hall window and he could see her knocking on it.

Daaavie? Davie!!

His round blue eyes were bewildered. What was she so upset about? He looked down at his jammies and sighed. Oh yeah, he wasn’t dressed yet. Read more!