Friday, September 08, 2006

JANET'S BREAD


I woke up sleepy, as usual, my back aching, as usual and I groaned at the thought of rising and putting breakfast together for my clan. Then I remembered the lovely loaves of homemade bread sitting downstairs under a clean towel - waiting to be devoured with butter and other delightful spreads. How could I have forgotten that yesterday I had helped Anna , for her first time, bake my bread recipe - 'Janet’s bread'?

My bread recipe ‘Janet’s bread’ is so much more than just a recipe. It is a hoard of memories that go all the way back to my first years of marriage and our first baby - all from during my years of University. In our second year of school Hugo decided to take a course in astronomy and it was there that he met Jim, Janet’s husband. Jim and Janet were a bit older than Hugo and I and already had two children, with their youngest being only a month or two older than our Aimee.

It happened that one of the assignments in Hugo’s astronomy course required signing out one of the university’s telescopes causing them to be in high demand. Jim and Hugo decided to sign one out together and have our little family over to Jim's tiny home allowing Janet and I to meet as well as Aimee play with their two young daughters. I was nervous about meeting Janet but she was so warm and welcoming, when I arrived, that my shyness quickly melted. The children hit it off right away and while Aimee crawled about behind them, Janet put coffee on and I sat down at the kitchen table.

The coffee pot perked away throwing off it’s heavenly scent and I watched Janet professionally tend to her many loaves of bread sitting on the counter. I think, if I remember correctly, there were eight loaves and a few dozen rolls sitting there rising. Their bread for the week. I was amazed. My first and only attempt at baking bread had resulted in a single loaf that felt and weighed more like a door stop than bread. After rolling it across the floor a few times for the cat to chase and enjoying a good laugh at my pathetic attempt to bake bread, Hugo and I had thrown it out - wondering if we should post a caution note on the bag for the garbage man so that he not break his back in the attempt to lift it.

I asked Janet how many times she had had to double the recipe to get this many loaves.

“Oh,” she blithely remarked - “this is just one recipe.” I refused to believe her and continued to tease her that it was not possible to get so many pans of bread from just one recipe. Jim came in rubbing his hands together, anxious for mugs of coffee to take out for himself and Hugo so as to help warm themselves in the cold November night. Hearing my teasing, Jim assured me that indeed this was just one recipe and that Janet made it every week. My eyes, I am sure grew in wonder but soon my tummy was growling as the smell of the baking bread began to warm the air.

It was not long before piping hot golden loaves were pulled from the oven only to be quickly and efficiently replaced by more loaf pans by Janet. Giving the loaves just barely decent time to cool we quickly sawed huge slices off and rolled hunks of butter onto them with butter knives. Her children stopped playing long enough to consume a piece each before resuming their rambunctious play with my baby daughter. Aimee was watching their youngest with delighted eyes. Here was a child her own size walking upright and unassisted. Aimee took her first steps at five months, yet had continued to cruise along the furniture, dropping to her knees to cross from chair to couch and couch to table.

Janet generously offered to give me a copy of recipe but I exclaimed that I could never bake such fluffy white delicious bread. “Phsaw, she said - “you just come by next Saturday. The girls can play and you and I will bake bread together. Looks like Jim and Hugo know how to keep busy so we won’t need to take care of them except to keep their mugs full of coffee.”

After tasting Janet’s bread when he and Jim came in to thaw out for awhile - Hugo quickly agreed that we did indeed need to come back next Saturday.

We were back the following weekend and Janet and I rolled up our sleeves while Aimee tottered behind Janet’s daughters. Having seen someone her size run about she had been inspired and between the two visits had bravely let go of the couch and walked to the chair and from the chair to the shelves - never to look back.

I watched Janet expertly rise her yeast and deftly add the flour to her base. Then in amazement I watched the bread grow and grow and more than double it’s original size. This process was repeated four times through out the day while we feasted on the last of the previous Saturday's baking along with steaming hot spaghetti for lunch, coffee and friendly chit chat. Finally Janet pulled out her pans for the last raising and I sat, astonished to see how tiny each ball was that sat forlorn and lonely in what looked like, in comparison, humongous pans. I could not believe that such a tiny roll of dough was going to become the enormous loaf of bread such as we had just consumed at lunch time.

At the end of the day, we headed home generously loaded up with rolls as well as a loaf of this delightful bread and an invitation to come back often, which we did. And so when I cook up a batch of Janet’s bread, I am never just making bread. I am visiting our old 2 bedroom apartment in the married residence, thinking of old friends, remembering cold November nights and my daughter's first unassisted steps. Sometimes I even share some of these memories with the children as they watch me knead, punch and rise the dough. But I have never, ever been able to make my batch stretch into 8 loaves AND rolls too. I think the closest I have come is 4 loaves and 2 dozen rolls. (This could be because I have never been patient enough to wait through four full risings!) Still it is my favourite bread recipe and always will be.

Janet’s Bread

Ingredients:

Boiling water
Tepid Water
Sugar
Salt
Shortening/Butter or Margarine
Yeast

After putting water on to boil prepare a small bowl of
1/2 cup of tepid water in which you dissolve a teaspoon or two of sugar (or honey)
Sprinkle over this bowl of tepid water 1 - 2 Tablespoons of yeast.

When the water come to a boil
Pour 3 cups of the boiled water over the following ingredients (that have been placed in a large bowl):
1 heaping tablespoon of shortening (or butter or margarine)
1 handful of salt
3 handfuls of sugar (or ½ cup of honey)
Stir until all ingredients are dissolved.

Once the yeast has risen (usually in about 10 minutes) check the large bowl that has the boiled water in it and see if the water has cooled to tepid temperature. If it has not, add enough water until it is tepid.

At this point you add the yeast to the larger bowl and stir it in.

Then you begin to stir/add in flour until the dough begins to come away from the bowl. (This has, for me, varied from 8 cups to as much as 16 cups) When you first begin to add flour you can substitute some of the flour with wheat germ and,or whole wheat flour. I have played around with this a lot - always with delightful results)

Allow the kneaded dough to rise once to just barely double its size in a large greased bowl - covered with a damp towel. After punching it down allow it double or a little more than double its size another full two times. For the fourth rising allow it to rise in the greased bread pans while you preheat your oven at 350.

As the loaves come fresh from the oven, lightly brush with butter for soft, tasty crusts. Enjoy your first slice with a cup of your favourite hot beverage and dream old memories. Read more!

Rain, rain, rain...

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary...

....but in my heart the sun will shine!



(The Whole Poem...) Read more!

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

A new mini poll, a virus and a hefty Doctor's bill.

I have finally created a new mini poll. Summer, if not officially gone, is waving good bye. The local pools are closed. All schools, even those in the north are open for business again. And we, despite another virus hitting us, and hitting us and hitting us and finally sending me scrambling for a doctor this morning (before having established myself with a new practice) started back to school.

My wonderful children dug out their books from closets, packing boxes and corners, dusted off their notebooks, sharpened pencils and set themselves up while I tiredly carried a very cranky but pathetic 16 month around in my arms. I do not understand why one must stand with her and can not sit but there it is - what else do you do for a baby so obviously miserable and in pain.

A few children are suffering from similar symtoms as Elsa, but bravely hit the books and made great progress despite my absence for a full 2 hours at the new doctors' office. First I had to find the place and while I was told I would find it by following the hospital signs, I was not told there are only two signs and one with it's arrow hidden behind a thick bush. Slowing down and streaching up high in the drivers seat of my tank, er I mean van, I was just able to glimpse the arrow pointing right.

Elsa fell asleep as I wound my way through S. Main searching, searching, searching for those elusive blue hospital signs. Just as I was certain that I must have missed Anna Lewis Lane, a blue sign popped up directing me to the right. I took it and promptly missed Hospital Street. I finally found both the road and the building I was looking for. One look at the busy parking lot and its tiny spots capable only of holding European style cars convinced me to park in the Surgeons' Building whose Cadilac sized parking slots were, strangely, all empty.

Despite great effort not to jiggle Elsa awake as I removed her from her car seat - she still awoke but as she was already in my arms, and I was standing up, I had few complaints from her. We crossed the street and started out our first visit to the new practice on fine footing by opening Door Number One and stepping into - an examination room. An occupied examination room. The doctor pleasantly asked if she could help me and I blushingly asked her where the reception area was. She kindly showed me the door next to hers - marked OFFICE.

I apolozied to the 4 year old patient and his mum and slipped through the OFFICE door. With Elsa precariously balanced in my left arm, diaper bag at my feet and my Mother's daily Planner in hand I filled 12 names into the five blank lines titled LIST ALL CHILDREN STARTING WITH THE ELDEST.

Paperwork dutifully completed, Elsa and I waited for our turn. Before long a cheerful looking nurse came along and showed us a room in the back, which sure enough had its own exit door. I was tempted to lock it, but was worried I would forget to unlock it. Besides - there probably weren't too many other newbies out there that would mistakenly believe that Door Number Sixteen was the OFFICE door.

Elsa and I proceeded with flying colours through the rest of the appointment, weighed ourselves at 22.2 lbs and determined that we did not have a temperature and nor did we have an ear infection. No - no sinus drip but the throat was red. So we did a Strep Culture. Negative. So one hundred and twenty dollars later we determined that we probably have a.... virus. Unless it is chicken pox - which by the way is going around.

So here I sit - somewhat poorer but with a new poll up and I realized I had forgotten to check the stats of my summer long, summer cold poll before posting the new poll. Please accept my apologies. However, I do believe that we are a tough gang here at mum2twelve as at last glance to the stats showed those who pop a sudafed, or the like and then move on were far in the lead!

Enjoy the new poll and I will try to not leave it up all Fall season before changing it! God Bless! Read more!

Animal Planet salutes Steve Irwin...


Our family has memories of many many, nights spent cuddled together on the couch as we watched Steve, the great Croc Hunter, wrestle with his most recent rescue. Benjamin, for a time, was Steve the Croc Hunter, dressed in khakies and wrestling with the huge hard pasatic life like croc his brother gave him for his 4th birthday.

Nathaniel spent many a soundless night watching "Teve" hunt down snakes rescue kangaroos and travel the world with his crew, the two years that he struggled with ear infections and his ensuing deafness. Once sound finally returned to Nathaniel's life - 'Teve's family was part of ours.

My favourite epsiode, of course, was the night we saw Bindi Sue born. I was hoping maybe one day to see a similar episode dedicated to Steve and Terri's infant son, Bob and I was especially looking forward to watching Steve interact with his son.

It was with great sadness that I broke the news this afternoon to our children. We were celebrating a birthday yesterday so Hugo and I kept the news to ourselves for the day. We prayed part of our Chaplet of Divine Mercy for Steve, his family and friends.

We will continue to pray for you Steve, and your family! What a life you lived, what life you gave to the world. It will be a sadder, smaller place without you!

We love you Steve.

Here is a great link where one can celebrate Steve's life and memories!

Animal Planet celebrates Steve...

GOD BLESS YOU STEVE! Read more!

Monday, September 04, 2006

Recycling only please!

When we first toured this house the owner, whose husband had grown up in the house, proudly showed us the laundry shute that was accesible on two different floors. A most modern convenience that had been outdated by the re-location of the washer and dryer (thankfully) to the main floor from the basement, the owner gleefully showed us how it opened and pointed out the cute flowers painted on the lids of the shute's two locations, the main and second floor. I tried to restrain my inward shudders from showing as I thought of all the dangerous games young children could think of to play with such a device. I determined then and there that we would nail both covers shut as soon as we moved in.

However - before we had moved much of anything in besides our paint and ladders, the kids discovered a most creative use of this shute - place the recycling bin under it in the basement and drop all of the cans down there - straight from the laundry area beside the kitchen.

So I relented. It was after all quite a useful idea.

Then Milo moved in, (another story for another time) resulting in The Lions Den springing up - a club in the basement. This brought with it a new use for the recycling shute.

Knock on it below so that those above on htemain floor knew you wanted to speak to someone upstairs... and if you wanted to speak someone in the "den" below, one simply opened the recycling shute and shouted below.

Nifty idea - until 6 year old Nathaniel stuck his head down it with 3 year old Emma promtly closing the lid - jamming his head. Nathaniel's screams of rage and terror could be heard through out the house, as well as Emma's terrified pleas for help. As I was occupied getting the baby to sleep - Hugo had to deal with it.

The communication box is once again for - recycling only please. And as Nathaniel's bruised forehead and wound below the corresonding eye can attest to - this is all for the best. Read more!

Auto spell check...

The word processor that I am currently using does, as most do, auto spell checks while I type. Today I am tying up new routines, (new house - new routines) and when I reviewed what I had typed I found the following:

First Tuesday of the month:

Sweep and wash B & E's floor during bedtime routine, if not done earlier.

Stairs need to be swept and stiffened

Downstairs hallway - swept and stiffened

What I had typed was swiffered.... swept and swiffered!

I imagine that the children should find it interesting watching me trying to stiffen the stairs and the hallway. Whatever would we do without automated spell checks?! Read more!

Sunday, September 03, 2006

Who needs an alarm clock...

...when you have a three year old who, unfailingly, at 6:30 opens your door and with eyes bright and shining with life announces any one of the following:

It's morning time Mummy, tan I turn your light on?

It's morning Mummy and I need my morning baba!

And lastly my most favourite wake up call is:

I love you Mummy! Read more!

Saturday, September 02, 2006

What do you do...


when your six year old mistakenly believes you did not get any of the fresh biscuits baked for breakfast, and so he carefully cuts the small bitten parts off of one of his and then graciously presents it to you with immense delight in sharing.

Why you eat it, of course and delight in his willingness to share even a crumb of these delicious biscuits! Read more!

Friday, September 01, 2006

What's for dinner tonight...


Trying to find some variation to the stero-typical Friday fish fry or baked brown beans, I will be offering the following for dinner tonight.

Black Bean and couscous salad:

Prep time: 30 minutes
Ready in: 35 minutes
Servings: 8 people

INGREDIENTS:
1 cup uncooked couscous
1 1/4 cups chicken broth
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 teaspoon red wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
8 green onions, chopped
1 red bell pepper, seeded and chopped
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed
2 (15 ounce) cans black beans, drained
salt and pepper to taste

DIRECTIONS:
Bring chicken broth to a boil in a 2 quart or larger sauce pan and stir in the couscous. Cover the pot and remove from heat. Let stand for 5 minutes.
In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lime juice, vinegar and cumin. Add green onions, red pepper, cilantro, corn and beans and toss to coat.
Fluff the couscous well, breaking up any chunks. Add to the bowl with the vegetables and mix well. Season with salt and pepper to taste and serve at once or refrigerate until ready to serve.

(Not being a big fan of its flavour - I do not add the cilantro!)

Found on: Allrecipes.com

Obviously I have to double this recipe and I will be serving it with (store bought) corn tortillas lightly fried on a dry (no grease or oil) frying pan with hummus on the side to dip the tortillas in.


Bon Appetite!
Read more!

Another trip down memory lane...

As we stood there surveying the smoking remains of our deck and the slick oil that was slewed across the dining and kitchen linoleum with hot melted spots issuing nasty smells my husband looked at me and said; “You know this is really all your fault!’

“Mine?” I asked incredulously. “ How can that be? I was not even here when it happened?”

“Exactly!” he grumbled. “If you had been here, I would not have gotten annoyed with you and distracted. If I had not been distracted, I would not have forgotten I had put the water on to boil before I went out to chop wood. And if I had not been out there, I would have been here to see that I had put the wrong burner on and that the oil was smoking before it caught fire!”

I stared at him and longed to argue with him about the irrationality of his logic but opted instead to feel grateful that he and all the children had survived what had only twenty minutes earlier been a raging fire.

Our then four year old daughter, Gabriela, had been the one to discover the flames licking the kitchen cupboards over the stove and issued the alarm that the house was on fire. Her 4 week old brother Noah was, for a change, quiet and asleep in his swing in the living room beside the dining area that opened off of the galley sized kitchen. I was down the road having a cup of tea with a neighbor while enjoying a friendly chat with her and her husband. It was late in the Canadian spring with the snow gone but with some days still chilled and at times cold and rainy. Cool enough, in fact, to warrant a small fire in the stove.

Rushing to see what Gabriela was yelling about, Amanda, then 12, had hurried out whomever of her siblings that were in the house, not yet noticing her sleeping enfant brother. Then, following her fathers orders, she slid the patio door open and rushed out into the cool crisp air ahead of him while he cautiously slipped out the door carrying the flaming pot of oil ahead of him. Once outside though his sure footing was lost on the damp slippery deck and as he stumbled, the oil sloshed over the sides of the pot forcing him to drop it causing a wall of flames to race across the deck blocking him from our daughter’s view. Her screams of horror raised higher than the flames and the children scrambled around the side of the house to see the flames licking up the tree and curling around the legs of our propane barbeque. All held their breath while my oldest, looked through the living room window saw to her horror, her baby brother still snoozing in his swing - oblivious to all that was happening. She now realized that these 8 foot flames not only separated her from her father, whom she was certain had been engulfed in them, but also from her tiny baby brother.

Bitterly berating herself for not having seen the baby earlier in his swing she stared helplessly at him through the window, wondering how to get him out or how to warn her other siblings that he was there. The flames were between her and the only means of exiting the deck as the section she was trapped on was at least ten feet above the ground. Suddenly a gentle breeze tousled her bangs and instead of the flames being fed by it - they suddenly and completly died. Her father was revealed to her and he yelled at her to wait there as he dashed back into the house. While disaster greeted him - the flames that had been crawling up the wall behind the stove and eating at the edges of the cupboards had also mysteriously died. Simultaneously - it would seem. Instead of finding the whole kitchen engulfed in flames as he had been certain he would, there was only smoke and oil everywhere punctuated with the smell of melted rubber. Once he had made certain no danger remained he allowed the children back in and they excitedly clamored about him asking what had happened and how had the oil spilt all over and why hadn’t the barbeque blown up like they thought it would and how was it the tree did not burst into flames especially since it was a cedar…

Totally oblivious to all of this excitement I had drained the dregs of my tea, refused a second pouring, said my good byes and trudged on home.

It was a whole summer, two series of cupboards being rebuilt, the kitchen flooring torn up and replaced as well as new rugs all downstairs and the whole of the downstairs repainted before I had my kitchen back in working order. And all because I had stayed down the road for a cup of tea. Imagine that! Read more!

Monday, August 28, 2006

The Marks of Today's Society

The other night I was out buying groceries and I heard some giggles and chuckles around the corner and as I pushed my cart forward a mother, somewhat distracted, came around the it. No doubt she was heavily concentrated on how to make her dollar go as far as possible and behind her, the owners of the giggles and chuckles showed themselves. A daughter about 13 and a son of perhaps 11. They were playing with a most absurd looking ball that look more like a sea anemone than a ball.

Their enjoyment brought a smile to my lips and I felt uplifted seeing children of that age enjoying themselves in such an innocent manner. But before I could draw my eyes away the daughter flipped a knowing look at her brother and stopped behind their mother who was carefully studying the prices on variety of brands. She then made a most obscene gesture with the toy, directed at her mother. She chortled aloud in delight at the woman's ignorance of the insult just played on her. The very woman who is raising her and most likely gave her birth.

My eyes lighted on the face of the younger old son. His eyes caught mine and I did not relent, I did not pretend I had not seen what I had seen. I held his eyes in mine. For a brief second I saw in his eyes the realization of the shame of what he had just participated in. Then he squared his shoulders, defiance filled his eyes and he turned to play again with his sister. They continued to follow her, giggling as they once more so innocently threw this weird ball back and forth.

I saw them once more that evening, but I did not delight any longer in their seemingly childish and delightful entertainment as I had seen the mark of today's pornographic society on their play. It saddened me greatly and many times since then that little boy's eyes have haunted me. Let us all remember our youth that is being bombarded by society's idolization of the body and of sex and pray for them as we go throughout the day. Read more!

Friday, August 25, 2006

Yesterday I had the opportunity to wrestle with the question of how early should a child be ushered into independence. We were in the mountains picking up merchandise for the business and had an impromptu picnic in a beautiful park that had a quiet lazy spring bubbling through it.

As we carried our bags of groceries and the boxes of chicken that wafted delightful scents into the air through the park, I spied a mother crossing the bridge over the spring who was accompanied by two little children. A slight young girl who looked to be about three and beside her, a little boy who was a mirror image of our little Elsa in that he carried the same adorable mop of red curls on his head and sported invisible eyebrows. He was plumper that our Elsa, but about the same height and I was so curious as to how close they were in age so I asked the mum how old he was.

She paused and stared at him before replying; "Hmmmm, I think maybe around 2." I looked at him again, very confused by her uncertainty and because if he was two - he was very wobbly a walker for a 2 year old and well, very short. The mother must have noted my confusion as she turned to look at him and hummed again.

I said helpfully, "Well, my little red head here is about 16 months..."
“Ahh,” she said, "Yeah, I guess he too is maybe a year and half. Yeah, he is probably about that, now that I think of it. " And then addressing what must have been utter puzzlement on my face, she continued.

"Oh he's not mine, I just baby sit him."

Now perhaps this was a last minute arrangement for neighbor that had an emergency and so this mum was not too familiar with her little charge. But if she is his regular caregiver I have to wonder, really wonder at her having no clue as to his age. There is such a huge difference between 16 months and 24 months in terms of development and what kind of expecatations to have of a child. If she is his regular caregiver how could she be so disinterested in his age?

Later I watched her push her daughter on a swing and watched how this little fellow sturdily held onto the chains of his own swing as it flowed back and forth in the air.
I pondered.
Elsa at the ripe old age of 16 months and surrounded by all her slaves, err siblings has never had to learn how to swing alone yet. And so I pondered some more about that.

Independence is all well and fine I thought, and it might lead this little boy to great things later in life, but I decided that it was not necessarily the optimal choice for one so young. We leave our childhood behind soon enough as is, never to return. While I do not want Elsa to babied into her adulthood neither do I want her rushed into it. I am happy that yesterday she was able to cuddle on her older sister’s lap on a swing and lay her head on her sisters shoulder and enjoy the gentle breeze in her bangs while her sister slowly and carefully swung with a most precious cargo embraced in her arms. So I hope for this little boy’s sake that this was a one day only arrangement and that he is normally surrounded with the same love and support that Elsa is given all day long, seven days a week.

I hope Elsa also achieves the independence that this sturdy little fellow shows, but that she does it in her own time and is neither held back into her babyhood, nor rushed out of it. Read more!

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Padre Alberto Hurtado Cruchaga



Cannonized on the 23rd of October 2005 by Pope Benedict XVI at Rome Italy.
I just watched a video on this recently cannonized Saint on EWTN. It was in Spanish and well acted with subtitles. Even my boys Teddy (9) and Noah (11) were intrigued by the movie.

To learn more about this Saint, whose feast day was yesterday, click here and here. Read more!

Thursday, August 17, 2006

I'm bored...

Periodically I am longing to hear this statement expressed by my children as in this home as we are not allowed to be bored. Correction, we are not allowed to say aloud that we are bored because in a household this size there should never be a reason to be bored.

So if someone in this family, states that they are bored there is a host of extra chores just itching to be completed by a bored child. So everynow and then, when that list becomes exceptionally long I lay in wait, like the cop in a speed trap, the spider in her web, ready to pounce on the first child who sighs and then unthinkingly says: "I'm bored, there's nothing to do here."

It is amusing to see the reaction of an older, more wiley and experienced child hear a younger sibling say this for the first time that they are old enough for that chore list - about 6 years old in this house.

Some will jump up and hush the child looking around to see if their younger sibling has been over heard.

"Shh - you are NOT bored!"

"Am too!"

"Psst come here, let me explain why you are not bored!"

Or, then there is the adult child who is home for a visit who overhears this mis-statement and with eyes twinking begins to regale the bored child with tales of the endless chores they faced the day they mistakenly said that they were bored.

However, a new twist has arisen. Today as we were doing normal everyday chores after breakfast, Anna who is 13, informed me that she had a new plan for when she is... bored!

"I was thinking that instead of lying around on the couch or wishing I could use the computer when I'm... bored, I could bake, learn new recipees and such."

"And clean up after your baking?" I asked nervously.

"Oh yes - of course!" she replied enthusiastically.

And so now I have another reason to hope for boredom to prevail in our home; a room full of boxes to be unpacked on my list of chores for the bored, and an empty cookie jar!

Any ideas how I could perhaps entrap a child into saying they are bored? Read more!

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Today...

...one of my cherished children announced, "Oh my, its less than five months to Christmas!"

To which I replied "And even less to Advent".

"Oh.... yeah.", she responded a little less enthusiastically.

But what, I ask you, would Chistmas be - without Advent, without the waiting. And oh BTW even though only one reader attempted to guess where I found the missing advent wreath - I will indulge you - it was in my OTHER bedroom closet, neatly stacked between two boxes in the front.

But do you think I have a clue where EITHER of my two wreaths are at this moment? Ha - you will just have to wait and see.... Read more!

Tickled Pink!

I am sure that most of my readers, if not all of you, are familiar with Sister Patricia of the Franciscan Card website as well as the Joy Notes, a daily Catholic ezine that is received Monday through Friday. And - if you know Sister and especially you recieve her Joynotes, than you know that she has been once more preparing another one of her wonderful books. This time it is about reconciliation and will be in print by, I believe, early September.

But what I bet none of you know is that this book will contain an article written by none other than (drum roll please) mum2twelve. Yes! Your own humble, down to earth, never pat herself on the back mum2twelve was asked to write a real bonafide, had to meet a deadline and be edited and then resubmit it, article about how to present Reconciliation to your child.

I was just tickled pink and floating on air for days! And I was truely humbled to be asked to write such an important article. I believe the Sisters must have really prayed up a storm while I wrote this essay, as it just flowed and then when I thought I was all finished, more ideas hit me. "Oh I should write about venial sin versus mortal, I should add a few paragraphs about..." but nothing would come, not even a syllable. I realized that if I attempted to put another word on the paper - it would just not work and since I knew the Sisters were praying for the success of the book, I suspected that it was their prayers that enabled it all to come together so smoothly. Therfore, as the words stopped flowing and I could not put another sentence together that was worth writing, I came to the conclusion that I must have said all that the Holy Spirit wanted said!

I hope you will all take the opportunity to take a peek at what Sister Patricia has put together in this book and maybe even consider buying a book or two. (No - I don't get royalties, just a by line!)

I, myself, have ordered two. One for our family and one for a gift. I just haven't decided who to give it to yet. I have offered it to one (extended) family member who is non catholic, but they have not shown any interest so... any number of possibilities are open. And Christmas is coming so you better start making your lists. Read more!

I knew I was safe...


Yes, while I was digging bigs of green pepper out of the bottom of the washer and shaking it out of my sons' clothing at 1 am - I knew I could have offered to give the winning guess a million dollars and I would be safe!

Now - I have been so busy - I have yet to ask my two sons why they had a fresh green pepper in their laundry, but I am sure that to their young minds - it will be a perfectly reasonable explanation.

Thank heavens it wasn't any of your guesses - except maybe the 23 dollars or the lottery ticket. I wouldn't say no to a few GREEN bucks in the bottom of the washer. But no thanks to the skulls, frogs or earth worms or an insect of any kind! {{shudder}} Read more!

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

You get three guesses...

Once more I have found a most interesting treasure after a load of laundry. This laundry belonged to two of my sons aged 11 and almost 10.

I feel so confidant that you can not guess, that if I had won the lottery I would promise to split the winnings in half with the reader that guessed what it is.

Come on now - don't be shy - draw deep in to your memories of your youthful adventures or those of your children's and then post your guesses in the comment area.t,

And now I am off for one more round of packing at the old house - while praying fervrently that this is, for me at least, the last trip. Read more!

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Images from my memories

Sadly, none of these images are actual photos that are mine as many of these times were never captured on film or if they were are lost, or still packed away so I had to hunt the internet to be able to share these memories that are haunting me this weekend.

There is a battle occuring in my soul and as I wrestle with this sudden homesickness I am experiencing for Canada or a home in an area that would allow me to enjoy once again scenes like these, as well as the climate they all occur in, I am trying to listen to Christ to see if there is an actual message in this deep longing or is it just one of those 'the grass is always greener' moments. It is more likely just that, given the recent stress of our move. Still, if it is Christ - I pray I can discern his message.

Anyway - here are some internet photos that will allow you a peek of what is within my heart this weekend. If I had our baby albums, there would also be tons of baby pictures littered through out this post since I am wallowing in those memories as well, convinvced that if I could do it all over again - I would do a much better job this time. And maybe I would. Lucky for me, while I can not do it all over again with my four oldest , I still have eight lovely souls left to love, cherish and guide. Read more!
Besides the cooler temperatures, I think what Hugo and I miss most are the drives in the country we would take as we drank in the views of rolling hill sides blanketed with farms, usually dairy or beef with a few being sheep farms. And of course in the fall we loved the colours that the countryside presented us with along with the wonderful bounty of apples, apples and more apples.

A scene I was priviledged to view a few times from my living room window when we lived way up north in the province of Quebec in the small mining town of Gagnonville. This town no longer exists as it was plowed back into the ground once the mine had been stripped dry of all its iron ore. At least once, as a school outing, I recall being taken in wagons pulled by skidoos to the outside limits of town where a sledding team was kenneled.

I miss the dry crunch of the snow under my feet and temperatures so cold that somedays a deep intake of breath would glue the insides of your nose together. However, when I find myself pining for these days I try to remember how annoyed we were our last winter in Canada and it snowed on MOTHER'S DAY! When one of our local priests claimed "Mia Culpa, I love snow and have often prayed it would snow on Mother's day" - he shortly therafter found himself transfered to Dallas... Texas. Me thinks the Bishop was not as fond of snow as our priest was.


NB is famous for its covered bridges.



The bath house on Minister's Island.


This is the road that literally warns you to remember that the tides waits for no man. Something a few friends and I would have done well to remember one night while roasting marsh mellows out on the rocks a few miles in the other direction... This road is accesible only at low tide and takes one to Minister Island. When I became a teenager, I was, for two summers, a tourguide on a boat where I rambled on about Minister's Island as well as its famous bathhouse and the fishing weirs that surrounded it. I learned that summer, ladies, that what gives the sparkle to much of our facial make up is the sparkly material found in the scales of fish. Now doesn't that make you feel gorgeous!




This is like the type of beach I was most familiar with as I grew up in and around the Maritimes.

Something I have not yet found internet picures of that we actually have many photos of are our two favourite "pioneer" villages, Kings Landing and Upper Canada Village. Hugo and I visited Kings Landing a number of times, both while we were dating and after we married. I have in one of our photo albums a photograph of he and I posed in front of a large boat at Kings Landing. I was about 6 months pregnant with our first born, Amanda. I have a number of photos of Upper Canada Village as well, but even more of the Pre-Historic World park nearby. And these photos are filled with our four oldest children as they stared at those huge recreations of the monstors of the past.

Well - I hope you have enjoyed my trek through the past and now, if was not so dang hot, I would go make myself a hot chocolate, top it with real whipped cream and dream of tobaggans and snow and wood stoves. Instead, I am going to slip into a pair of clean shorts and cross the road to the store to buy some cold soda for my thirsty and hot brood.

Cheers!

Read more!

Friday, August 11, 2006

Another leg in the journey in life...

Once a long while back, while we still lived in Canada and the number of our children was still in the single digits, I managed to squeeze in the attendance of an Opus Dei talk. There was one point that the priest made that night that has really stayed with me, not that I have made the proper use of it - but none the less it has been there, floating about in my memories, sometimes actually making it to the forefront - where it really should have been at all times. He stated, really quite simply that in order to effect a desired change in our loved ones we must, (not should - must) model this desired behaviour to our loved ones before trying to change their behaviour.

Of late I have noticed a lot of squabbling between the children and short tempers are prevailing as are sharp tones. A lot of this behaviour can be blamed on the stress of our recent move, along with the accompanying later nights and a messed up schedule. Still, as I thought about trying to turn all of this around, particularly the manner in which the children are speaking to each other, the memory of Father‘s statement was triggered again and I felt guilty. How nicely have I been speaking to my children or even to my husband? How patient or understanding have I been? Just what kind of example have I been to my family? Have I been the heart that, as mother, I am called to be?

The answers that I came up with were not so flattering. For example, when faced with a grumpy teller at the bank, with a stuffy red nose, who treated me like a four year old that was not following directions properly in class, had I simply, humbly offered it up to God; or had I grumped and complained about that chit of a teller and her nerve… When a child steps on my foot accidentally, while still in their heavy shoes, do I refrain to only an explanation of pain and then smile understandingly when the child apologizes or do I snap at them to be more careful? When I am disappointed because I cannot find the book I had put aside to read during my free time in the afternoon or before bed, do I calmly offer it up, ask for help to find it; or do I stomp about the house grumbling about how nobody cares about anybody else’s belongings and so dampening everyone else’s spirits while also ruining their quiet time?

And if that is my behaviour - should I really be so surprised when this is the behaviour I see exhibited by my children?

The next thought that came to me was that if I wanted to model better behaviour to my children, I needed to better understand why I was not being more patient, more loving and more tolerant. There are many reasons for why I might not be being a better model of a loving heart - some quite simple and others more profound.

I realized in order to answer this - I needed to look at how I was caring for myself. Was I eating well or missing meals, therefor becoming grumpy because I was hungry? Was I getting to bed at a reasonable time or staying up late because I had not managed my time well and I had things still to be done long past a reasonable bedtime. Was I taking time to refresh myself spiritually both through prayer and the Sacraments?

Again, I did not like the answers I was coming up with and I realized that I some work ahead of me, but like it or not, I had the moral obligation to God, my husband, our children, and to myself, to take up this new challenge of caring better for myself.

Wish me luck, eh, as I head forward on another leg of my spiritual journey. Read more!

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Dear Guardian Angel...

Dear Guardian Angel!

Guess what? My brother just turned six and we had a big party for him. This girl, that everyone runs to and screams in delight to see her, came again. Every time she comes they run at her yelling JEENNNY! They say she is my big sister but I just think she is crazy - what do you think G.A.? (Do you mind my calling you G.A.? Guardian is so long and hard to say!) She always insists I give her kisses and she squeezes me lots and lots. It is kind of fun but I don’t want her to know I think that. So I run and hide from her when she comes.

Anyway - she brought this huge green cake that had tractors and stuff all over it and I wanted to taste it so badly but every time I would manage to scale those huge wooden things they call chairs someone would one along and scope me off saying “Oh oh - you might fall, better stay off of those chairs“. Don’t they know that I have you, G.A. to protect me? Sometimes I thing grown ups are so silly. Besides why do they have these huge things by the table if you aren’t allowed to use them to see what’s on the table. I LOVE sitting on the table. First I can see around the room better and second there are always tasty treats on it - my favorites are the crayons. I can’t decide which colour tastes best so I just keeping biting them all. I wish you would smack my big brothers and sisters though with your wings when they scoop me off the table and put me back on the ground. Or worse when they put me in that big white jail. They even stick their fingers in my mouth and scratch all the crayons out. I would think you would smack them since its your job to keep me safe and I feel perfectly safe on the table! By the way G.A. do you have any idea why my family likes it when I draw beautiful pictures on the paper but not when I draw them in the books or on the table? I mean - the colours are all the same no matter where I use them so why do they like them on the blank paper so much?

Anyway - we finally got to have some of that green cake and I have to tell you - as much as I love crayons the cake was better. I will have to look for a green crayon in that shade and see if it tastes like that.

I love to be the center of attention and I have found a great way to get everyone’s attention just before we eat. I have noticed that before we eat, everyone stops and they all say the same words together. Every single one of them. Emma who is still 3 G.A., even tries to say them and she puts her hands together too when she is saying these words. Everyone smiles at her when she does that, so I have started putting my hands together also. Now everyone smiles at me too. Aren’t I just so clever?

I love you G.A. Good night!

Elsa Read more!

Saturday, August 05, 2006

a blogger moment

Emma, had a few dolls spread about her and she was struggling with the dress on one of them when Elsa, happened upon her. Now, for Elsa only being fifteen months old, Emma at the ripe old age of three and a half is the apple of her eye. If Emma finds it entertaining - well it just must be the cat's meow.

So Elsa squatted down beside her and began to ask for a doll and a share in the play in the fashion parade that was occuring. Not yet able to speak, we have taught Elsa to open and close her hands while also saying mum mum mum!

Emma, who often passes over whatever she is playing with to Elsa at her first request, continued this time to play with her doll, and in a very grown up tone of voice answered Elsa;

"No mum mum mum's today Elta. I'm paying by myself right now." Read more!

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Do you ever...

...wish for a moment of peace and quiet. Do you ever mutter aloud "Oh My goodness I wish (child/baby's name) would just STOP crying. I would give anything for him/her to stop whinning at me!"

Because of the tremdous echo in our new home I have of late been making these very lamentations and immeadiatly felt guilty as I wondered what would it be like to suddenly not be able to ever hear her or him again because of some tragedy. Idealy in those moments I really should go and hug that child but typically I push the guilt feelings down and keep on with the chore I am trying to finish.

However, with the recent tragedy of one Catholic family losing their child and now a posting that I came across on Catholic_Homeschool_SAHMoms@yahoogroups.com and my own daughter's recent scare of a possible brain tumor I am trying to listen more to those gut feelings. Last night I thought I would go crazy while Elsa nursed hour after hour, often waking with a start as if in pain or afraid. My husband was away on a business trip and so I was alone with this very fussy child. I was so tired especially as I am recovering from a bout of flu and I felt annoyed by this intrusion to my much needed rest.

But then I thought about how at my age (44) this beautiful baby is most likely my last - when will I ever have this opportunity again to be so needed and wanted. Implicitly! So I laid there and gently smoothed her brow while listening to her soft breathing, almost too soft to be audible. And then when the sun was just beginning to soften the darkness she fell into a deep sleep, her body finally relaxed and peacefully. I felt such relief and stretched my cramped limbs and rolled over ready to join her in her blissful sleep. But before I could completly relax there was a quiet knock and Elsa's 3 year old sister joined us in my giant king sized bed.

I groaned and hoped fruitlessly that she would just join Elsa in her deep slumber without yet asking for her customary morning baba. However it was not to be and within moments I was treading down the stairs where I searched silently for the bottle, the juice and the filtered water needed to make this ritual complete. Then I trudged back up the stairs and handed Emma her "baba" and listened to her contented swallowing and waited for her to pass me the empty bottle, the final step of her morning routine. Tonight as I read this post My Story that had been linked to from the yahoo group mentioned above I feel even more gratitude f rall of my wonderful children. I feel even more blessed than before that my 23 year old daughter's tumor was just a burst blood vessel caused by a huge mirgraine.

I need to remember to be grateful for every little interuption by one of my children because it means they are here and able to interrupt me! Thank you Jesus for the sleepless night I had last night and thank you for the little angel who interrupted it so many times. Thank you! Read more!

Considering getting your teen a cell phone...

Are you, like many parents condsidering getting your child a cell phone so you can be in touch with them when they are at a local baseball game or walking to piano lessons? You might want to reconsider this idea. Perhaps a pager is a better idea. I don't know if any have GPS capabilities - if you want to be able to track a teenager who has, heaven forbid, gone missing. I also don't know if a pager is any assistance if a child has need for 911 service but when you read the aricle I have linked to below - you will want to learn more about what various means we might, as parents, want to use to stay in touch with our teenagers beside cell phones. Anyone who has alternative suggestions or experience with this please share with us.

Porn and your cell phone... Read more!

Addicted...

Nay, enslaved to perfection. That is what I am. And it gives me so much grief. And worse, I have realized this addiction causes me to sin terribly. When I strive for perfection beyond reason and to the point that I cause pain to other members of the family by being irritable and grouchy to those I love - simply because my house is not perfect or because I am not meeting goals I have made for myself, then I am committing the most grievous sin of all, I am breaking the First Commandment.

"I am the LORD your God (who brought you out of the land of Egypt, from the house of slavery) Thou shalt have no other gods before Me... .."

If I allow the seeking of perfection, and artificial perfection at that, to injure those I love than I am indeed putting my goals ahead of God, who commands me to love my neighbour as I love myself; I am being most disobedient to my Heavenly Father.

Does the condition of my house matter more to God than my spiritual state, or how my lack of charity towards my children leads them to sin? For I know that when I am cross and speak in a gruff manner to one of my children or answer them with sarcasm that they in turn inevitably do the same to one another.

And when I do this to one of them, I also do this to Christ, my brother.

This is just not acceptable and I who have been seeking a cross to offer up have just found one. My lack of perfection. I have been wanting something to offer up as a works during the day and instead of offering up a clean room to God, I will instead offer up the un-swept pile by the front door, the mounds of boxes yet unpacked. I will offer up a story read to my child when I really want to attack those boxes of books and set them tidily on the shelves now finally set up. In this way, together with God, I will achieve perfection. Hopefully it will be the perfection of my soul, rather than of my house. Read more!

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Ouch...

I crawled out of bed, my vision blurred with my contacts feeling like they were glued to my eyeballs. I could almost hear my back creaking while I groaned aloud at the effort of standing straight. I gingerly swiveled my head from side to side hoping to lessen the tightness that held it stiff. I felt crumbs crunching under my feet and I groaned again - this time at the painful thought of trying to swish a broom from side to side with the arms that hung heavily at my side. Tears welled up in eyes and I forced them back while also wanting them to just flow - hoping maybe their release would release me from the pain that I was in.

I pulled on the clothes I wore yesterday as I have yet to find all of my clothes, and the shorts I purchased yesterday were still in the van where I had left them. Yesterday was our 26th anniversary and we celebrated it with breakfast at Cracker Barrel followed by ice cream at Maggie Moos later in the day and I topped it off by coming down with the old fashioned flu. As I still had much packing and cleaning to do at the old house I swallowed 2 Excedrins and when those did not do the job I swished down two Advils which kicked in about 30 minutes later. Still I was not much good for anything but I did get a few laundry baskets loaded with clothing and thought about washing them. That’s as far as I got. I thought. Then I thought about sweeping the floors but again that is as far as I got. I thought about it. Still I knew I needed to do something useful but preferably something that did not require movement, not even my eyes wanted to move if not necessary. So I opened up my Vonage account on the internet and changed our phone number to a local number and then sent our oodles of emails announcing the phone and address change.

Several hours later when we pulled up in the drive at the new house yesterday I whispered to my husband; “Please would you scoop Elsa up and take her into the living room so she will not see me come in. “
He looked at me puzzled “Why don’t you want her to see you?”
“Well - I really need to go to the bathroom and I want to get my nightgown on before picking her up because after not seeing me all day she will be devastated if I have to put her down after picking her up. I can’t bare to do that to her. I just want to be able to crawl into bed with her and stay there for the night.”

So once I was all settled someone, I don’t even remember who, brought her to me and she and I cuddled together while she nursed herself to sleep. However I paid for my sins of disappearing from her for the day as she made up for it by waking every hour so as to comfort herself that I was really there and then would nurse herself to sleep again. And while I have acknowledged that my bed is (much) more comfortable than the floor, I must admit I have found new hills and valleys in it that I swear were not there before we moved and these nights I am vaguely aware in my sleep that I am about to roll off my side of the mattress.

When I awoke this morning I was so hoping to be over this ill timed bout of flu. Alas this was not to be, so here I sit, thinking about the floors in this house that need to be swept and the boxes that need to be unpacked and I wonder where are the shelves that we brought with us yesterday. But instead of cleaning and organizing I will have to spend my afternoon doing what I have complained and whined so much about not having enough time to do. Play and read with my little ones. And when it comes down to it - what is more important than that? The floors will eventually get swept and the boxes unpacked and the shelves will get brought into the house all in good time, but more importantly, after having had bit of a hissy fit earlier in the day, I will now model to my children how to gracefully accept the cross I am being asked to bear. Read more!

Saturday, July 29, 2006

word to the wise...

Do not think that once your children are adults that your early morning bedside calls will stop. Oh no - the only difference is that instead of asking for a sippee cup, a bottle or help going to the pottie they will want to know if you hooked up to the internet yet and on finding out that you are, will ask for the nearest Cracker Barrel on Highway 74. And of course - they will be calling on their cell instead of from their bedroom.

And now if you don't mind I think I will got back to bed - I have answered all bathroom, bottle and cell calls for the morning and now I am hoping to get a zzzz's in before the coffee finishes brewing. Read more!

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Helpful Hint...

Is your mattress old, ragged, maybe even an embarrasment? Been wishing you could afford a new one? Well, I have found a very inexpensive way to renew it. When you are finished with this little trick, your mattress will feel as if it is the softest most luxurious mattress you have ever slept on. You will think you are sleeping on a down filled mattress and only as you drift off to sleep will you remember that just the day before you were whimpering and complaining about how old and uncomfortable this very same mattress was.

The trick? Spend a few nights sleeping on the floor. Worked miracles on my old mattress, or maybe it was my attitude that was adjusted. Read more!

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Remember...

...the Advent wreath I could not find last Advent. I found it. Guess where? No, not in the walk in closet. Guess again. Read more!

A word to the wise...

If you do not have a walk in closet and are hankering for one. STOP. Unless you know for certain that you will never, ever be moving again! And if you do have one already - start packing it the day you decide to move. Not on the day that you have given notice. Nor the day you signed the closing papers or better yet - not the week before you need to be moved out. There will not possibly be enough time! Read more!

Monday, July 24, 2006

Are you hungry?

Two weeks ago I was sitting in the back of the church trying to listen to the readings over my daughters quiet chattering in my ear and my tummy suddenly began to grumble. Before I knew it I was so hungry that all I could think about was what I wanted to eat when I left church. While I tried to stop thinking about how hungry I was, I suddenly thought:

"Imagine if I felt this physically hungry for the word of God. Or for a relationship with God. Or for the Eucharist? What would that be like?"

And while I think we are born with this hunger, this desire for a relationship with God it is not quite as physical as an empty tummy growling and gurgling at us, sometimes causing us to almost feel faint. Like those moments when we grow almost desperate to eat something as we wait for the bread to finish baking, the smell issuing from the oven tantalizing us. Imagine if the smell of incense during the Mass had the same affect on our desire to know God.

What would it be like to have such a physical driving need to know, love and serve God?

The only answer I could think of is that it would be so over powering that we could not do anything other than that and while it is our goal to gain Heaven by knowing, loving and serving God we are not all called to such an intense suffering in this manner to get there. This is left to to the Saints. For the rest os us I guess it is more like the cravings for a chocolate bar that we all find ourselves experiencing from time to time. The trick is to recognize them and answer them with prayer time and perhaps a little time studying the bible, rather than an extra hour before the TV.

Still - I can't help but wonder - just what would it be like? It leaves me in awe thinking about it! Read more!

Saturday, July 22, 2006

A prayer request and

a prayer of gratitude!

Tonight we drove the 80 some miles between the old home and the new one in a wild storm that is still whipping itself about the house and surrounding areas. At one point the driving rain was making my ability to see through the streaming windshield through the dark night impossible. So I wisely choose to take the next exit off the highway. I dropped Miguel off in front of the gas station door before parking. Then I jumped out of the van into the pelting freezing cold rain and then dashed towards the door. When I got to it, I realized I had not locked the van. I peered back at over my shoulder. A small voice teased me "What idiot would ransack a van in this rain?" to which my other little voice chided "Murphy's law, Christi, Murphy's law."

My shoulders sagged and I jumped back into the rain trying to ignore how the wet gooey sticky feeling of the insoles of my sandles was getting gooier and more wet with every puddle I plowed through. I grabbed open the door and with my finger poised over the automated lock I wondered - do I have the keys? With icy rivers trickling down my neck, as well as into my eyes, I fumbled about searching my pockets for the keys only to realize I had them the... dang things grasped in my freezing fingers. Had it really been broiling hot when we left the house 45 minutes earlier? The van locked, I then raced back to the gas station and joined my son in front of the steaming hot coffee pots. A few minutes later we were back in the van and I quickly turned the a/c off while we sat there waiting to be able to see more than five feet ahead of our van.

Eventually I was able to head back onto the highway and Miguel called his dad on the cell phone. We learned that he and Noah, both in Hugo's 24' truck were now somewhere ahead of us. Hugo suggested we exit the I-85 and take the Business 85 and it would take us straight into town. I followed his advice and of course as we were coming up close to our exit the rain began to pour once more - making it very difficult to see. As Miguel and I searched the side of the road for the exit sign we both happened to notice at the same time that I was no longer on the highway and instead was now heading straight for a wall of stone and mud and better yet - this was not pavement we were on anymore but muddy grass....

We both yelled the exact same epitath of shock and I quickly swerved the steering wheel, convinced that the van was not going to listen but go into the wall anyway. Instantly we were back on the highway without hitting anyone or flipping over. PRAISE GOD!

My legs basically went numb with shock and my hands were shakey but the two of us laughed like fools. Amazing what a rush of adrenalain does to ones state of mind.

I said to Miguel, " Now THAT was a miracle!" to which my 19 year old replied;
"Yeah, that or just really good reflexes!"

I only had a few seconds to bask in that unexpected compliment as he then proceeded to experiment to determine where and how hard he would have hit his head had I not missed the wall....

Tonight after all were in bed, I stoped in front of our Baby Jesus and clasped his tiny hand and raised my eyes to Him in Heaven and thanked Him again for His saving miracle. I thanked him Hugo got home safe with our young son Noah and than Jonathan got home safe and that I had not killed my son and I.

I suspect that part of why we had this mishap is the extreme fatigue I am experiencing. Moving a full time business while also moving a home of 11 people and painting the complete house while waiting for it to be completly re-plumbed while living in it... is well, stressful and very, very tiring. So my prayer request is for a few deep restful nights of sleep. I won't be greedy - just a few would be great! Read more!

Thursday, July 20, 2006

BACK ONLINE!!


At last - the new house has been connected to the world and I can once again post. I have a few photos of the progress we have made over the past 10 days or so. Since about the 8th of July we have been living half in one town and half in another. As I said to my daughter who was wondering if we were moved into the new house “that (at least) ALL the bodies are all moved into the new house and we are sitting on the floor and sleeping on air mattresses.”

It is amazing what one can live without! In the new house we have a couple of mattresses, our dining room table, two pots, the coffee maker, the toaster, 2 - 3 outfits each, a mini fridge and a stove. (In fact, until yesterday we did not even have hot water and we had to boil the water to wash the dishes or take a bath and possibly soon I will have a working kitchen sink!) We have a TV and DVD player and our album of DVDs. We have books to read, colouring books and crayons for added entertainment and really not much else. The past day I have I often found myself wondering what else do we really need to bring from the other house, which in truth, is packed solid.

I would love to wax poetic and brilliant about this idea but in truth a solid week plus of painting, scrubbing, chipping and painting some more has left me somewhat less that poetic and brilliant. So since a picture is worth a thousand words, I will close by adding a few thousand words…. Assuming of course that I can find the diaper bag… where the camera is.

PS Dad or Deenie - if either of you is reading this you daughter NEEDS some serious Tetly tea! I have gone to brewing two bags at once! HELP!!!! Read more!

Thursday, July 13, 2006

A thought...

Some people will be want to assist the Schmiedicke family with a donation to purchase a new caar for the family and others will not feel this is the right means for them to show their symathy and support.

I have decided that I am going to purchase one or two of Regina's books Angel in the Waters and donate it to a prolife group or home for unwed mothers in memory of Joshua. In my case, I am going to send my copies to Room At the Inn . Read more!

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

May I ask for prayers again...

There is nothing that tests one's faith more than having a child ill - even if they are an adult. And in this case it is one of my adult children who needs to undergo an MRI, and an MRA and it will be several weeks before we know the results - possibly early August.

Until then we will be hoping and praying for the best results and worrying about the possible worst while we struggle daily to leave it all in God's capable hands.

"Gentle Jesus - healing physician, lay your hands on my child's body and bless this child. If anything is wrong - heal it. Breath on the soul of my child and bless her soul and help her not to worry too much. Hear our prayers and bring us closer to you as we wait for the results of these tests.

Guide the hands of her human physicians and also help them to will see her as a whole person and help them to heal her in whole.

Amen"

I will keep you posted, but I do not expect to have news before early August. Thank you all for your prayers, and also thank to all of you who have congratulated on us our new home. Pictures to post soon - if I can just find my camera - which is in the diaper bag... somewhere! Read more!
A most terrible tragedy has occured to a Catholic family this weekend. Please read the link to Danielle Bean's update on the untimely death of Joshua Michael and how his family is doing.

Families are donating money to buy a new vehicle for the family, please consider donating as well.

Joshua Michael

Please pray for Regina Doman.

Please forgive my terseness but this accident has left me wordless and in agony for the family and especially the mother.

GOD BLESS YOU ALL!!

Christi aka mum2twelve Read more!

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Thanking All Prayer Warriors!


My good friend has asked me thank all of you prayer warriors who were praying for her to have her baby. Not only did she come, but she came pretty quickly! Weighing in at a healthy 10 lbs and 3 oz she is a very peaceful and contented baby and both mum and babe are doing very, very well! Thank you one and all very much!


Read more!

What was it I wanted to do?

We had had about three hours of sleep and we were now embarking on the huge task of painting the house, the whole house as I want it completed before we move the furniture in. It is just so much easier to paint an empty house. Still, easier though it may be – it is still a tough job. And very tiring. Especially with so little sleep. Soon I found myself wandering about the house – trying to remember why I had left the living room. ‘What was it I had wanted to do?’, I wondered aloud to myself as I made another pass through the kitchen staring hopefully at the counters, looking for a clue. A third trip through the hallway finally proved successful when my bladder reminded me why it was that I had left the living.

Later in the day it was discovered that we needed some wash buckets, a few rags, a trash bin… so I gathered the keys to the van and headed over to a nearby store. In less than thirty minutes I was pulling back in the drive, purchases completed and ready to head back to work. Hugo was there in the drive getting ready to attack the poison ivy with the bottled solution we had recently purchased. I showed him the shorts I had bought him for just 6 dollars and we chatted for a minute. I then headed into the house with a few of the purchases, attended by a long string of children who carried the rest my cleaning supplies. The screen door swung behind me and dumped everything on the counters. I thought of something I needed to ask Hugo and proceeded to seek him in the living room where he had been painted the past day and a half. He wasn’t there. Hmmm, I wondered where is he? I searched the whole house to no avail so I shrugged my shoulders and went back to the kitchen to start cleaning. At that moment Hugo walked through the back door.

“Oh there you are!” I exclaimed. I’ve been looking for you to ask you something, what were you doing outside?”

My husband stared at me for a second and said; “Ah, I was spraying the poison ivy, remember?”

No – I did not, nor could I remember what I wanted to ask him.

Clearly I do not function well on only three hours of sleep.


(Before and after pictures to follow - can't wait to share!") Read more!

Monday, July 10, 2006

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Sweet Summer Cold

Ah, sweet summer cold – how I love you. First you tickle my nose and then slowly you travel down to my throat. The pounding rhythm that you create in my head is indescribable. My eyes begin to glow a fashionable red, matching my nose and my normally low voice becomes even lower and horase.

You defy zinc, nasal spray and vitamin c and linger on, unwelcome and persistent.

I swear that you are able to leap through my fingers and into the keyboard and travel through the internet to my good friends much like a computer virus, as how else does one explain how friends, healthy one day and miles away, yet are enjoying your company the next.

Sweet summer cold, who will you target next? Read more!

Friday, July 07, 2006

Prayer Request...

Please pray for my good friend who is at least two weeks past her due date with four young children at home. She is more than ready to have her darling baby so anyone who has the time and is willing - please pray my friend goes into labour within the next 24 hours. She is exhausted, and as all of us mums know - very, very uncomfortable!

"Gentle Jesus, healing physcisian, place your loving hands on my friend and bring her baby into this world. Bless her caregivers to make the right decisions regarding the birth, and for my friend to have the strength and graces she needs to get though the next few days.

Mother Mary - you have known the discomforts of pregnancy and the joy of birth. You encouraged Jesus to perform his first miracle at the wedding of Canna. Please now interceed for my dear friend that your Son will perform another miracle and bring about the birth of this very loved baby and allow the loving arms of all who await her delivery to welcome her."

Thank you one and all for your generous prayers!

mum2twelve aka Christi Read more!

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Why has mum2twelve been so sporatic in her postings...

...of late?

We are moving 11 people, two dogs, three cats and 1 bird and possibly one fish if he is still alive (I must ask my boys who share hteir room with him) and a full time business and the past month has been spent searching for our new home. It has been found and needs to painted from top to bottom and what better time to paint it than when it is empty?

Details and pictures will follow, but they are not on the computer that I am using right now. I will regale you with lots of before and after pictures though as we progress.

Catch you all later! Read more!

Misplaced...

Gabriela currently wading through Emma by Austen walked into the kitchen, and with a huge sigh announced to the room in general.

"I've lost Emma again!"

To which our Emma gave a horrified gasp and said "You lost meeee?" Read more!

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Never assume that all snakes...

...are on the ground. Oh yes - we watch exciting exploration shows and see Condas and Pythons hanging from branches in the deep jungles of Africa. We watch with bated breath as our favourite crazy host, the Crocodile Hunter Steve Irwin delicately extricates one of the most venomous snakes to be found in Australia out of a tree - by crikey. And we assume that it is only in these far off places where snakes chose to live above ground. But I am here to tell you and SHOW you that this is not the case - that here too in the US, snakes can and do climb trees. Very big trees. Trees in your yard, that you walk underneath every day - not suspecting that in those leafy green branches there just might be a 5 - 6 foot black rat snake lurking.


Read more!
This little fellow has been hanging about the past month or two. First he was hidden in the stones near one of the outbuildings. Next we had him sitting by our back door for a day. Then yesterday while Anna was walking Zack she almost stepped on him as he was sunning himself in the grass beneath the above pictured tree that you see him in.

She called one of the boys to come and get Hugo and I. Excited to finally see him out in the open we grabbed the camera but before we could photograph him sun bathing he grew tired of all the excitment and started to slither away. Fascinated we watched him but we almost fell over as he started up the tree. However - we did have the precense of mind to take a few pics of him as he did this. He is well above my 5' 3" frame in this picture.

So from now on - I will be checking for our handsome neighbour not just under my feet, but also above my head. Read more!

Saturday, July 01, 2006

World Soccer cup

Comment over heard from the female teen age gallery during the game between Germany and Argentina.

"Hmmm, the Germans are MUCH more handsome than the Argentinians - BUT, I still want Argentina to win!" Read more!

Friday, June 30, 2006

Calling all parents...

... who worry their kids watch too much tv. Gather them up and show them the pictures below and tell them...

"THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO YOU - IF YOU WATCH TOO MUCH TV!"
Read more!

Chilling out...

and watching some T.V. Read more!
TOO MUCH TV CAN BE HAZARDOUS TO YOUR EYES....
Read more!

I forgive you...

The other day – while in passing my husband made a comment that hurt my feelings. It was not just what he said – but also the manner in which he said it. I felt blamed for something that was not my fault. I realized that in truth he did not mean it was my fault but still… I felt a little hurt.

As I prepared for bed, I mulled it over. “Really,” I thought; “I should point out to him how he has hurt my feelings.”

I began to plan out the conversation and just exactly how I should gently point out to him that “while I am sure you did not realize you had hurt my feelings you had, in point, done so.” As I brushed my teeth vigorously another question posed itself.

“If I was so certain that he had not intended to hurt my feelings – why should I point it out to him?”

I knew he was very stressed over how a few things had gone wrong recently and very preoccupied and what good was it going do to tell him this, except to upset him more? In truth, I was only satisfying my hurt pride by pointing out to him that something in his tone had suggested he blamed me and while I knew he had not meant to blame me, well he should just know that his tone made me feel that way…”

As I flossed slowly, the selfishness of my desire to make sure he knew this sunk in and I resolved to not say anything. Not a word, not even a tiny peep.

And if anyone wants to know what he said is such a way as to hurt my feelings… I can't tell you because, well, because I actually can’t remember anymore.

Read more!

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Prayer to the Infant Jesus

Divine Child Jesus
In my difficulties: help me
From the enemies of my soul: save me
In my errors: enlighten me
In my doubts and pains: comfort me
In my solitudes: be with me
In my diseases: invigorate me
When others despise me: encourage me
In temptations: defend me
In difficult hours: strengthen me
With your maternal heart: love me
With your immense poer: protect me
And, into your arms, when I die: receive me
Amen
Read more!
I have received much comfort, strength and graces from this prayer. I have pulled it out again. I am worried that perhaps my post from yesterday (the 26th) seemed negative. That was not my intention. I meant only to share how sometimes, despite all that God has done for me I still struggle and I get frustrated with myself for being so like Elsa at the pool side - unable to just let go and trust. I also get frustrated with God.

I get frustrated with God because Hugo and I have been struggling for four years to understand and know His will for us. Some would say with the difficulties we have encountered with the business that perhaps God is speaking to us through the continued struggles we face with this business. Yet, we have asked God repeatedly that if this is not His will for us to please guide us in the right direction. Inspire us with an idea, open a door. Send us a sign we cannot possibly fail to see and understand.

I do not know if it is spiritual ignorance on our part that we have not been able to hear God or if it is that, for now, God is silent. I do know we have learned much from the struggles and challenges we have been through the past four years. I learned some rather upsetting news almost a week ago and while all appears to be working out - I still do not have a clear and resounding YES, all will fall into place and all will work out.

Therein lies my struggle with trust. God has NOT let me down yet. God will never let me down. Still - I have this fear in the pit of my stomach. Yet - what if the answer is no... Hugo and I will still live. Our children will still live. My husband and I will have to re-group and change our plans. What is so terrible about that, I wonder.

I am consumed with the what if instead of focussing on my duties, not just of the day, but of the MOMENT. I am living with my head in the future while my body tries to cope with the present, very unsuccessfully.

I have more thoughts on this swirling about, but I must lead the children in our daily Rosary and I am letting my wants get in the way of my duties. Read more!

Monday, June 26, 2006

Pick a hand...

Emma walked up to me with one arm behind her back.

"Pick a hand!" she exclaimed, with a big grin and her eyes sparkling.

There was only one hand to pick - so I did and surprise. It was the right one! Imagine that!
In the hand behind her back was a bright purple pen with a fluffy feather on the end.

Her delight in surprsing me was contagious and I was very glad for it because today has been very hard. I think that if life was a huge classroom and God the teacher - I would have been wearing a dunce cap most of the day given my inability to grasp the lesson that He has set before me.

My lesson for today has been the same one he has been tutoring me in for the past four years. Trust. Trust and remembering to pray when I feel that I can not endure the stress I am surrounded by for one more second, never mind possibly for years to come. It is time for me to get out one of my favorite prayers and keep it close by.

Thankfully,God is a merciful and kind teacher and I am not wearing a dunce cap - that I can see anyway. Read more!

Friday, June 23, 2006

In and Out...

In and out, in and out, in and out. Elsa just could not make up her mind about the pool we were playing in during our overnight stay in Savanah last night. Since Tuesday we had been on the road, by 3 pm Thursday we knew we had had it and pulled off in Savanah, Georgia and started searching for a hotel - preferably one with a pool and two tvs in our room. We do not have tv here at home so we prefer not to have to fight over the remote with the kids the few occaisions we can watch it. It did not take us long to find one that met our few basic needs.

In a jiffy we had the knapsacks, diaper bag and extra pillows heaped on the couch in the sitting area of the hotel room and we were in line for the bathroom - suits in hand. Thankfully we only had three children with us so I knew we were in for a relaxing time in the pool. I tossed Hugo a little swimmer as I took my turn in the bathroom but while I struggled to squeeze into my pre-Elsa bathing suit we decided he should go ahead and leave with Bethany and Nathaniel. Once I won my battle with my bathing suit I quickly slipped the swimmer onto Elsa's chubby little bottom, slipped her dress off and scooped her up. She and I grabbed a few pool towels from the front desk and then hurried to join Hugo and Elsa's two older siblings.

I couldn't wait to play in the pool with Elsa - she had loved the water so much the last time and this trip we had left Emma, the pool hater, behind! This was going to be a blast - just three kids!

As I approached the side of the pool Elsa's arms tightened around my neck and Hugo turned to greet her. As he spoke I heard a gurgling sound from behind him and Bethany's head emerged as she spouted water like she was a whale and before Hugo could even move to reach for her, Nathaniel chose that moment to be brave and step out beyond his height - dissapearing from site. Given the smallness of the pool Hugo had them both out in a nano second, but for Nathaniel the damage was done. He clung to side of the pool bewailing his plight and Elsa's grip around my neck tightened even more.

I cheerfully ignored the pleas to leave the pool that Nathaniel made to no one in particular and began to descend into the twinkling blue depths but Elsa is no dummy. In fact, she is quite an observant child and had taken in all that had passed in that nano second. Still, I continued to labor under my delusion of a peaceful dip with only three children. Bethany - far from being intimidated by her near brush with drowning continued to try and stretch her 4 foot 3 frame above 4 feet 6 inches of water and Nathaniel continued to wail from the pool steps.

With Elsa's scream of terror as her feet touched the warm water I finally gave in to reality. I placed her on the side of the pool and scrambled after her as she tore into the furthest corner from the pool. Then she turned and I could see the shimmering water tempting her. She watched her Daddy playing with and alternatively rescuing Bethany. Nathaniel, realizing no one was going to acknowledge his whines to leave the pool, had decided to join the fun.

It was too much for Elsita and she toddled to the edge and reached her arms out to me and we desended the stairs again. But as her toes touched the water she squirmed and cried to be released back on solid land once more. I let her pull herself over the side and back onto the cement. Hugo and I both flinched as she dragged her knees across it and then stood up. I was especially tense as she bounded away and towards the chairs. She scrambled onto one and not content with the heart attacks she was giving me each time she toddled towards the pool's edge - she had to stand up and grin at me. Hugo kept telling me to relax, that he would watch her - but no one can watch a baby like a mother so I ignored him and continued to suffer my heart attacks.

Over the next twenty minutes she toddled back and forth and backed up towards the edge of the pool on her knees and carefully let her legs into the water as I watched her from the poolside and Hugo guided her from behind. Each time as soon as the water got to about her ankles she would scramble back out. Exasperated, I watched her and wondered - how many times is she going to do this before she finally relaxes and trusts Hugo to hold her in the water?

At that moment I was stuck by the similarity with what Elsa was struggling with and my struggles to trust God. Again and again Hugo patiently helped her into the pool and then back out while I, like her gaurdian angel, stood close by as back up. How many times has God stood patiently by; holding me as I dangle at the edge of dispair, afraid to let go of my problem and let God take care of it because maybe, just maybe, this time God won't take care of it? Yet just as Hugo stood there carefully and patiently helping her in and out of the pool, God is faithfully waiting for me to just jump in and let Him take care of me and what ever problem I am facing.

Eventually, Elsa did let me carry her into the pool and she relaxed as I gently swished her about softly talking to her as I reminded her that just 14 months ago she lived in the water and floated about in it for nine months. Now I just have to try and let go and relax, and let God gently guide me through life. Read more!

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

What's THIS from Mummy?

This question is usually followed by what is to me some obscure quote from a movie a I vaguely remember seeing. However - recently Emma challenged me to this game AND I actually knew the answers.

"What's dis from Mummy", she asked as she squirmed through her face being washed.
"Wockyyyyy? Giiiingerrrr?"

"Chicken Run?!" I shouted with glee.

"Yes!" she grinned.

"And dis? What is dis from? I like ta move it, move it! I like ta move it move it!"

"Madagasgar!"

Look out quiz shows - here I come! Read more!

Thank you Saint Anthony


We were asking for God's blessings of the new (to us) van through the intercession of Saint Anthony, and our Priest suggested this as a Novena of Thanksgiving.

O holy St. Anthony, gentlest of saints, your love for God and charity for his creatures made you worthy while on earth to possess miraculous powers. Miracles waited upon your word, which you were ever ready to speak for those in trouble or anxiety. Encouraged by this thought, we implored you to obtain for us the favor we saught through a novena. The answer to our prayer required a miracle; even so, you are the saint of miracles. O gentle and loving Saint Anthony, whose heart was ever full of human sympathy, you whispered our petition into the ears of the Infant Jesus, who loved to be folded in your arms, and the gratitude of our hearts will always be yours.

Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we fogrive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.

Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit in honour of Saint Anthony, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.

Amen.


I decided that, as well as praying this daily, I would keep this up at the top of my blog for the nine days. Please if you care to - join us in this prayer of thanksgiving!
Thank you everyone for your joyful congratulations!!

(Originally posted June 18th, 2006)


Read more!

Monday, June 19, 2006

From the living room couch...

...came words of wisdom and common sense as my 15 year old daughter, Gabriela, perused a commerical insert that had come in the mail.

"What's this? Oh, a chart for choosing the right hair colour for you... Hmmm - I would have thought God did that when he created me." Read more!