Sad Farewells...

Well - the day has finally dawned - today we drive Jonathan back to school. We are all wondering how Emma and Tanny will deal with it. Last year when we dropped him off both Nathaniel (then 4) and Emma (then 2) were wailing as we drove away - "No! you are fordetting Jonatan!", "Tum back Jonatan!", and the like.

I am not looking forward to it. None of us are.

It has been such a gift having him this extra time and I think it will be even harder to let him go than it was the last time. We have done, and gone through so much together this year. His last year at home before his first semester was spent working and going to school so we did not see as much of him as we did this time given he has been working for us here, from home.
I think he too is finding it hard. I have heard him remark once or twice the past months to his younger siblings. "You know when you make a sacrifice it feels as though it will be really hard to do, but in doing it you discover that you gain far more in blessings compared to what you gave up or sacrificed. I know because when I first offered to stay here an extra semester I felt kind of bad about losing that time in school. But over the time I have been here, I have gained so much more than I have given up. I have received so many blessings staying here with you guys and spending all this time with you."

Bethany (7) and I are planning on making a calendar so we can count the days until the end of spring semester and he is back for the summer.

Yes - it is going to be very very hard to say good bye - in fact, as I type, I have a lump in my throat! Read more!

Chilling on the couch with Elsa back in October.

Jonathan clowning around with Tanny Paul and Emma, his God Daughter!

With his older sister, Jenny, on Christmas Eve, taking pics of themselves together.

Only 126 days until summer break... and Jonnie boy is BACK!

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Elsa Update...

Elsa continues to be ill and more have joined her so it might be a few days again before I can steal some precious moments to post, especially as I also have much to do for the business.

It happened this morning that as I was walking Elsa about the living room and she was quiet for the first time in a bit with her head resting on my shoulder, that my mind was elsewhere. It was on the merchandise in the packing shed, waiting to be packed. I felt stressed about it and realized that I felt as though I was a failure of a sort, because I had not yet gotten to it. I felt as though I was not accomplishing anything right then.

And then as I felt Elsa's warm breath on my neck and her weight in my arms I realized that I was already doing something of the utmost importance and I was surprised to realize how completly I had lost sense of my priorities.

By that, I do not mean I am not caring for my children, or do not realize the importance of doing so, but rather that I was allowing myself to feel like a failure because I am experiencing such difficulites in doing something in addition to this most important job. In fact, the most important job I could ever be doing.

Meanwhile - I would like to ask for prayers for Elsa and my other children who have become ill (6, in total, at last count). Please also pray for the graces that I need to deal with so few hours sleep, as well as the stress of trying to deal with so many jobs outside a mother's normal responsibilites. Could you also pray that we finally beat this terrible virus that keeps mutating and cycling about the family!

Thank you in advance for your prayers!

Blessings
mum2twelve aka Christi Read more!

A Christmas Miracle

A while back Sister Pat of the Franciscan Card site made a plea for prayers for her new Catholic radio station that she was developing and, at the time, told about an old means of requesting assistance from the Infant of Prague.

One was to write on a piece of paper the exact amount of money needed for your project, as well as the date it was needed by, and one was to place this piece of paper under the statue and then wait patiently for the baby Jesus to provide for your need.

When I heard about this, I immediately took a cheque out of my cheque book and wrote a large sum down in hopes of a business loan, or investment, so that we could perhaps finally reach a level in the business where we would not be precariously making it from day to day, often just by the skin of our teeth. I put an arbitrary date on it, wrote the cheque out to our company’s name and signed it from The Infant of Praque. It was a large amount, but peanuts really compared to what most businesses require.

The date on the cheque came and went. Our rent got paid, our lights turned off and then turned back on. We bought more merchandise, sold more and basically continued to get by, still by the skin of our teeth. It seemed that while my request was not unreasonable – God’s answer was either no – or not yet. Apparently we still have lessons to learn, largely the necessity of faith and trust in our Heavenly Father.

Yes, we have lost our house, lost our van and felt a great deal of humiliation about the difficulties we have gone through. But after all – that humility is simply the result of false pride. But while we have gone through these trials and difficulties, we have not yet been out of a home, gone hungry, or not had a vehicle of some sort. In fact we currently have four vehicles. Mind you, they are all going on 20 years of age, but they run – more or less.

Then around mid December my husband decided to put a bid on a 24 foot diesel truck that would save us several hundred dollars a month in rentals. In fact back in November one rental alone had cost us almost 1000 dollars. My husband felt led to put a very low bid on this truck, but still in the 4 digits. He really did not think he would win with that low a bid.

He won.

He was ecstatic.

But there was one problem, he had only ten days to gather this four digit bid together and we were two months behind in the rent. (We have a very patient land lord!) Our oldest son and my husband went into high gear and started really cranking out listings on eBay and our second son hauled merchandise to and fro as they photographed it for the listings.

I, for my part, quietly pulled out the cheque from under our Statue and dusted it off, crossed out the date and wrote a new one in. Crossed out the loan amount we had prayed for, and wrote in an amount sufficient to pay for the truck and two months rent.

We watched our Pay Pal account grow and sink, and grow some more and sink again as we paid for absolute necessities – like food and gas. By Christmas Eve my husband felt somewhat desolate. He said to me: “I was so sure this was meant to be. I really felt called to put that bid in and when I actually won with such a low bid – I was sure God meant that truck for us.”

“Well,” I replied. “Perhaps there is something wrong with the truck and God is saving us from ourselves. Besides – the dead line is not yet past.”

Christmas Morning dawned and we were four days from the dead line. The phone rang and a friend wanted to know if they could pass by. They were sorry for the short notice but they were on their way out of town and would be passing by…

“Of course,” I answered. “Things are a bit messy as we just finished with the gifts, but you know that you are always welcome!”

Twenty minutes later our friend knocked on the door and entered with a huge beautiful basket laden with teas and cheeses and other wonderful treats. There was a card on top with our names on it and my friend was very specific that only my husband, or I, was to open it after she left.

So shortly after she left, I opened the envelope which held a lovely Christmas card and within that – a cheque for the exact amount that was written on ours beneath our statue. This friend had no idea that we had done this.

How fitting that Baby Jesus would answer this prayer on His birthday! It was truly a Christmas Miracle! Thank you Baby Jesus!

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My Apologies...

I have not been able to post much. Between Christmas celebrations, feasting on delighful meals and deserts prepared by my two oldest daughters and dealing with an ill and teething 8 month old - I have been too busy. I attempted a post filled with pics of Christmas Eve this afternoon, but my computer decided to take a vacation and froze - so all was lost!

If Elsa is feeling better, I will try again tomoorow. Until then God Bless and once more;

MERRY CHRISTMAS
to all.

Blessings
mum2twelve aka Christi Read more!

Boxing Day

... or otherwise known as St. Stephen's feast day. England and Canada is where it is referred to as Boxing Day.

After several years of disasterous Christmas dinners on the 25th (things such as the septic tank backing up into the ktichen sink...) we finally decided we would no long have Christmas dinner on Christmas day but rather on Boxing Day.

So today we are being tantalized by delicious smells issuing from the kitchen and friends are slowly starting to gather in the house. We are hoping our parish priest will stop by. He is hoping that he can.

I hope one and all had a very peaceful and joyful celebration yesterday. I hope you all continue to enjoy the Christmas Octave!

MERRY CHRISTMAS to you all!!!

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Christmas Adam...

Following the tradition started way back when my four oldest were still mostly in the single digits we call today Christmas Adam as it is the day before Christmas Eve. They borrowed this idea from another family of friends who were more or less all the same age as themselves.

The children love Christmas Adam since it means that Christmas Day is almost here.

The evening before last my nine year old, Teddy, was showing me his wounds from the day. Here is the bruise from bumping on. And I got this scratch from... and then suddenly I was directed to a bite mark.

"And this is the bite I got from Emma!" My head pulled out of the dryer quickly when I heard that one.

"Emma bit you today?"

He shrugged his tough guy shrug and went on showing his badges of honour, err rather wounds.

As I was behind in all I had to do and in a hurry to catch up - I quickly forgot that little red puncture wound he had shown me.

Yesterday though my 20 year old son, Jonathan, filled me in on the details.

Emma had been wearing her beloved lion disguise and had been on the prowl in the living room. As she pounced on Jonathan he teased her.
"Oh Lion - you aren't going to bite me are you? Lions BITE!"

Apparently she just growled her answer and kept seeking her prey. But the wheels were turning as she crawled about on the living room, hunting her unsupecting victim.

Suddenly as she passed Teddy she lunged at him announcing I'm a Lion and sunk her teeth into his calf.

When he gave a scream of pain she clasped both hands over her mouth and sat back on her hunches apparently very disconcerted that she had done this, but also quite worried that she was going to be in big trouble for biting.

Jonathan examined the wound and informed Teddy he would live and to "offer it up" and get on with his day. They had a guy to guy talk about dealing with pain and moving on. Hence the nonchalant shrug when he answered my query the night before; "Emma bit you?"

Still, being only nine, he had needed to inform his mother of the insult, but without whining. I'm quite proud of him!

Happy Christmas Adam!

Blessings
mum2twleve aka Christi Read more!

Decorations...

Well - I have to confess, I wimped out. The boxes of decorations are still below the other 8 feet of boxes. BUT I bought some cheap (and I mean cheap) decorations at the dollar store. (I told you cheap!)

The kids had fun decorating the hearth and living room as well as the balcony that connects the two sides of the house. Sounds like a mansion, eh? But in truth it is a small 3 bedroom log house with a living room, small (to me) kitchen and dining area. Still - I feel like a millionaire with my house looking all jolly and Christmasy and happy children sipping egg nog and munching on cookies. (Store bought, I'm afraid. After 5 hours of marathon stocking stuffer shopping and Christmas grocery shopping, I have little ambition left for baking)

Now I need to talk to a certain 9 year old who has the memory of an elephant and is reminding the rest of the gang about the decorations that are still supporting the 8 ft wall of boxes filled with untold treasures brought from our previous home - a five bedroom 2 story brick. (Sigh...)

Now I have an appointment with St Nick. I usually end up meeting with him on Christmas Eve but in hopes of staving off that midnight marathon of wrapping (which when you multiply by 12 can go on for hours - no matter how simple you try to keep it!) I managed to wrangle an early appointment with him. He helped me last night go through my various piles while small ears leaned against my bedroom door and little snacks were passed though the door opened barely a crack. We discovered (as usual) that some piles were dangerously high and can not possibly hope to fit into one lone stocking, while others will barely fill a toe. Hence my whirlwind shopping spree that my husband has already forgiven me for. (Surprising what a little egg nog can accomplish!)

Then this morning little Emma, with eyes aglow with excitment, danced around the kitchen waving her beloved St Nick mug telling how HE had been in Mummy's room last watching a 'Cwitmass Mooie while Mummy wapped presents!' She showed me St Nick on her 2 inch high mug - just the perfect size for a little egg nog by the fire or a touch of cocoa with a peppermint stick in it, and reminded me again how he had been here last night. I was digging yesterday’s laundry out of the washer and stuffing it in the dryer when I heard the inevitable crash.

Emma was devastated. She collapsed to the floor in a puddle of tears, and I wrapped my arms around her while she sobbed over her broken mug. Children came running from all over the house to see what was wrong. Jonathan, her 20 year old brother and God-father rubbed her back and tried to offer her solace. I promised to look for another copy of the same, but in my heart seriously doubted such a mug would be found so close to Christmas Eve. Wiping her tears she accepted the loan of my Christmas mug.

After hitting two Wal-Mart’s I finally found the exact picture of St Nick, but on a regular sized mug and beside it a copy of Nathaniel's snowman mug. Not as cute as the miniatures they had received on December 6th. But it was St Nick, and with a twin for Nathaniel - there would be no arguments regarding the fairness of servings.

She was thrilled with it. All is well with the world and now... St Nick awaits. I must not keep him waiting!

Blessings
mum2twelve aka Christi

PS Tomorrow both of my daughters, God willing, arrive!

We are all SOOOOO excited!

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Staying balanced - with God's help...

A few days ago as I was helping Nathaniel change his pants I was struck by the difference with how he dealt with being off balance while lifting one leg and then the other compared to how Emma had dealt with it a few days earlier. While Emma had promptly leaned into me, her chubby still babyish arm wrapped around my neck, completely reliant on me, Nathaniel chose to stick his thin 5 year old arms out and try to balance himself as he wobbled back and forth.

Again I was struck by the similarity to my relationship with God as I watched him struggle to stay balanced alone, despite my offers to help him balance himself on my shoulder.

Over the past four years since my husband lost his job we have struggled in many ways. Not the least spiritually as we strove to trust in God’s providence while our material belongings were slowly stripped away.

While I watched in faint amusement, Nathaniel’s comical over balancing; I wondered what God’s thoughts have been over the past four years while I too struggled, determined to stand on my own two feet. And all the while God stood along side me, patiently waiting for me to reach out and balance myself on His ready shoulder.

Unfortunately, I am a slow learner and I still catch myself trying to balance myself with my arms outstretched, wobbling back and forth until again I remember that without God – I am nothing but with Him – I can do anything.

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People Look East...

People, look East.
The time is near Of the crowning of the year. Make your house fair as you are able, Trim the hearth and set the table. People, look East and sing today:
Love, the guest, is on the way.

As we sang this song in Mass yesterday, I felt that I was receiving permission, or perhaps direction, to begin to decorate for Christmas. To date, other than some snow flakes that the children made and hung up Thanksgiving weekend, there is nothing absolutly nothing to indicate that Christmas is only 6 days from now.

Now I would like to claim that is entirely due to piousness on my part. But I would not be being completly honest because, you see, while I know EXACTLY where my Christmas decorations are, it is exactly where they are that is slowing down my desire to decorate. They are neatly packed away in the garage.

Supporting about 6 feet of boxes, not so neatly piled on top of them.

So it is entirely possible that if they were on the top of this pile, a few decorations would already be sprouting about the house. But then again - if I am going to be entirely honest - I have to admit that even if they were easily available, they would still be packed away!

Again, not due to my being particuarly devout this Advent but rather because... I am not ready to deal with the chasing down of 3 and 5 year olds who have decided to admire these docorations up close. Nor am I ready to deal with the shouts of anger by the older siblings who are warning off these small tornadoes as they tear down carefully set up nativity scenes or other displays of Christmas cheer.

However, I now feel called to deal with this and at some point today or tomorrow with the help of my 6 foot 2 and 6 foot 4 sons, will tackle the 8 foot pile of boxes and carefully extract some of our Christmas ornaments and begin to place them around the house. Hopefully in places they can be easily viewed and not touched!

People Look East and sing today - LOVE the guest is on the way!

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Finally! Some baking accomplished!

And here is some of the crew sporting the cookies they had baked yesterday afternoon in the fashion of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil! We had three huge platefuls and in less than 24 hours we are already down to 1 plate! Read more!

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 mum2twelve@yahoo.com if you would prefer to comment privately.

Thank you in advance for taking the time to correspond with me!
Blessings
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!

Thank You

...to everyone who has prayed for my daughter. She is doing much better. We had a good visit and I am so grateful that we were able to be there for her. We are all looking foward to both of our oldest daughters coming home for Christmas. I am looking forward to seeing how we cope being fourteen in a small three bedroom log cabin. It should be fun, crazy, cozy, and did I mention crazy? No doubt tempers will get frazzeled from time to time but prayers and long walks and outings will help that! But most of all it will just be wonderful to be all together as a family this Christmas and for more than just 48 hours.

Blessings
mum2twelve aka Christi Read more!

A prayer...

...that I think will become a family favorite. My oldest son, Jonathan, discovered this prayer and laminated it so that we can use it daily. He was searching for a simple morning offering for the family.

THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER (attributed to Pope Clement XI)

Lord, I believe in you: increase my faith.
I trust in you: strengthen my trust.
I love you: let me love you more and more.
I am sorry for my sins: deepen my sorrow.

I worship you as my first beginning,
I long for you as my last end,
I praise you as my constant helper,
And call on you as my loving protector.

Guide me by your wisdom,
Correct me with your justice,
Comfort me with your mercy,
Protect me with your power.

I offer you, Lord, my thoughts: to be fixed on you;
My words: to have you for their theme;
My actions: to reflect my love for you;
My sufferings: to be endured for your greater glory.

I want to do what you ask of me:
In the way you ask,
For as long as you ask,
Because you ask it.

Lord, enlighten my understanding,
Strengthen my will,
Purify my heart,
and make me holy.

Help me to repent of my past sins
And to resist temptation in the future.
Help me to rise above my human weaknesses
And to grow stronger as a Christian.

Let me love you, my Lord and my God,
And see myself as I really am:
A pilgrim in this world,
A Christian called to respect and love
All whose lives I touch,
Those under my authority,
My friends and my enemies.

Help me to conquer anger with gentleness,
Greed by generosity,
Apathy by fervor.
Help me to forget myself
And reach out toward others.

Make me prudent in planning,
Courageous in taking risks.
Make me patient in suffering, unassuming in prosperity.

Keep me, Lord, attentive at prayer,
Temperate in food and drink,
Diligent in my work,
Firm in my good intentions.

Let my conscience be clear,
My conduct without fault,
My speech blameless,
My life well-ordered.
Put me on guard against my human weaknesses.
Let me cherish your love for me,
Keep your law,
And come at last to your salvation.

Teach me to realize that this world is passing,
That my true future is the happiness of heaven,
That life on earth is short,
And the life to come eternal.

Help me to prepare for death
With a proper fear of judgment,
But a greater trust in your goodness.
Lead me safely through death
To the endless joy of heaven.

Grant this through Christ our Lord. Amen. Read more!

His Birthright...

"I think he thinks it's his birth right."; my husband announced to the living room as he stared out the window.

"Huh?" I replied as I read my email.

"Nathaniel, I think he thinks it is his birthright to return the rented vehicles with me. "

I joined his stare out the window and there in the rented car we had driven to Charlotte yesterday was 5 year old Nathaniel ensconced in one of our boaster seats that he apparently had managed to place in the car all by himself. Nevermind it was not yet 8 am, and the temperature below freezing. There he placidly sat, waiting for his father to come drive the vehicle back to the rental place. I could not tell if he had his coat on or not as just his fuzzy red head was showing from my vantage point. But I could tell he had placed the boaster in the front seat.

In just my short sleeves I went out to the car and opened the front door and explained to him that he would have to move to the back where he would be safer. With the larger goal of being allowed to drive to town with his Daddy in mind, he got out without a complaint and carefully dragged the boaster seat out of the car explaining. "Oh! I can do hit my helf!" Then he bumped his fingers on the door and decided maybe he could use a little help after all. I picked him up to place him in the boaster seat. His little fingers were freezing! And so was I by now!

Quickly I got him an extra sweater, his mittens and a blanket so that he could warm up while he waited for his Daddy who was gulping down a hot tea so that his little son would not have freeze any longer. We could have insisted he come in, but his silent determination and hard work to get ready all by himself just begged to be rewarded.

They drove off together minutes later, chatting and happy. They were gone before I could remind my husband of an errand I needed him to do in town.

Fourty five minutes later a white vehicle caught my eye as I sat typing on the computer and I looked expectantly out the window and was surprised to see the rental car back. I met them at the door. Nathaniel looked very pleased, and quite happy with a small gift in his hand for Emma who had not been able to come as the truck only fits one boaster and Hugo was looking far from pleased. I looked at him quizically as Nathaniel rambled on about his gift for Emma to whom he is Christmas Angel. Hugo explained tersely;
"I forgot the keys to the truck and then Nathaniel threw up on the way back to get them. "

To my look of horror at the rental, he replied;

"Not to worry - he threw up mostly in a bag and on the blanket, but someone will have to help him change."
I took Nathaniel upstairs and he proudly showed Emma her gift which he explained she had to share while I stripped his pants off, and helped him into a fresh pair.

By the time I was back downstairs the rental was gone and the boaster seat was on the front porch. Apparently, Hugo was not keen on granting Nathaniel his birthright a second time in one day. Not that I could blame him - however, he left before I could inform of the errand that must to be completed in town today. Some days are just like that. Read more!

PRAYERS PLEASE

I am leaving for Charlotte in a few minutes. My second oldest daughter is in college and in the middle of exams and ill. She needs my help and could use some prayers. She has asthma and when she is stressed (as in exam time) she sometimes has severe asthma attacks.

Please pray for her health. She has wonderful goals for her life, principally she wants to help unwed mums choose life for their babies and rebuild thier lives during a time of crisis. Please pray for her studies and exams for this week, as well as her health.

God Bless you all!

Blessings
Christi Read more!

Quote of the party...

Towards the end of our party after playing about all afternoon and charming the older children and adults, Emma pranced into the kitchen and in anything but a shy voice announced to everyone in general;

"I'm shy!"

Flashed us a huge smile and danced out of the kitchen and back to her playing. Read more!

Room Service please...

It was 6:40 am exactly! My bedroom door sprung open and 3 year old Emma burst through, full of life and energy and - desperate for the bathroom.

"Mummy, I have to go pottie!"

"Emmph," I mumbled, "so go!"

"Otay!" she replied brightly. And burst through the bathoom door, slaming it shut behind her.

I squinted at the alarm clock and kissed Elsa on the cheek as she snoozed beside me all cuddly and warm. I was barely drifting off when the bathroom door sprung open again. Out bounced Tigger disguised as Emma who announced:

"I'm doeing back to my woom Mummy, to be wit La La!" (Translate Lala as Gabriela, her 14 year old sister.)

That pronouncement was music to my ears - it meant possibly another 20 minutes of dozing time.

She drew in her breath and I started to roll over, but was halted by her next statement.

"So tan you make me a baba Mummy?"

"Emmm, okay Emma" I yawned and rolled back towards her.

"And bwing it my woom, Mummy."

I lay there blinking as she whisked out the door. I rolled over and woke my husband up.

"Hugo - we have just moved up a notch, now we are expected to provide room service for Emma!"

Funny, somehow he was not as amused as I was, maybe it was the hour? Read more!