Tween. Adult and Child.

She sat at the computer this morning, and she filled out an application to go to a university engineering program. She didn’t ask for help. She wrote the essay with grown-up words. She wore her glasses and a NASA sweatshirt that she picked out at Target last month.

She thanked them for the opportunity to apply. Then she emailed her science teacher and thanked her for presenting the opportunity.

 She is eleven years old.

Sometimes, looking at my tween, I am mixed with bursting pride and then this little bit of fear.

The pride comes from knowing her capacity.  How she can change the world, motivate herself, rally a team, think in this crazy big way.

The fear comes from knowing her capacity.   Knowing that as she grows, it may and will be away from me.  

Lord, help us both! My prayer is that fear may fade away.   That I may be the mother this young woman needs as she explores, conquers, fails, cries, gets up again.   That we can share this journey together.  That she knows of my, but more importantly Your, enduring love for her.

It is beautiful to have this daughter.

It is a gift beyond what I could have earned or expected.

Thank you, Lord.

Strength for the Season of Tweeny Teens

I am not that great at motherhood.

I don’t say this to be self-deprecating.   I am fourteen years into this vocation, one which has challenged and rewarded me, brought me to my knees before God, both in desperation and in awe.   The magnitude of motherhood is such that those paradoxes can occur in the same moment.

And I don’t have all that I need to get this done.

I have passed through a season of diapers and endless days.   The kids were everywhere and clamoring for touch, kissed owies, and bedtimes stories.  Just when I believed those long hours would go on forever, they have disappeared, and I find myself surrounded by children---three tweeny-teens and one six-year-old who believes his is 10---who largely do not want to be kissed, guided, loved.   They don’t seem to acknowledge that I know anything.   In fact, many days, I believe it is their mission to contradict everything I say.

And so, just as I became better at tinies, having received a modicum of patience and growth, the game has changed.

And I can’t do this alone.

Yesterday my tweeny-teens were a ridiculous rompus, tearing one another down and not participating very well in my mandated moment to give thanks at dinner.   We tried to go to the library, and our once-treasured place of discovery became another battleground.   I picked apart book selections that were inferior to my kids’ abilities.   I didn’t want them glued to screens.   When they played with the toys in the little kid area, they were obnoxious.   Where is a place, I wondered, where my kids can get along?  Do they have to be separated to function well? 

Do I have what it takes to get this job done?

The answer is no.   I do not have what it takes to do this with grace and love well.   I am not equipped to be a mother to all these different personalities, needs, limits, capacities.  But I am.  God trusted me to do this with Him.

And so, tonight, when my tweeny-teens bound out of the school and clamor to get away from me and into the next moment of fun, I will try again---with the Lord---to strive for patience and creativity and all that I have to bring my children love, guidance, faith.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. 

Watching Them Go Through It: Sometimes They Sit the Bench

Dear Kid,

I watched you sit on the bench this weekend.   You were across the court.   My first feelings were of indignation.   I worried that you would be hurt.  I wondered if you knew what was going on.  I saw you look to your coach and wait for the moment you would get called in.

I knew you were tough.  I knew you were an important part of the team.

I was a little bit mad for you .

And then, my child, I thought about How Much you can give.   I saw you high-five your teammate and smile for the team.  I heard you cheer and the mom next to me pointed out how you jumped up and down with joy.  

I realized your work ethic and your amazing selflessness could get through this trial.  Maybe you will kill it at practice this week, and maybe you will show your coach the killer attitude that always accompanies your defense face.   Maybe you will put your mind to working really hard to nail those shots with consistency.  Both of those things, and so much more, are within your potential.

But, Kid, even if none of those come to fruition, you truly can be amazing and a leader on the bench.   Your attitude can lift up your team and be as much a factor for a win as your time on the court.

Remember when we were in the play?   We weren’t the stars, but we saw them backstage.   Sometimes they were nervous and they weren’t sure they were doing it all right.  

But we smiled at them, we reminded them of how they moved us with their voices and jokes.   We cheered them on.

We helped everyone to win.

So, Kid, I hope you learn this season and I hope I get to watch that defense face for many, many minutes of game time.  But if not, let’s go for the bigger win.  You show that team the best of yourself.   The best of how God made you---to help pick others up, sometimes literally on the court.

You are so awesome.   I am so proud of you.

Your, Mom

Praise

When you thought they weren't listening, and instead they were capable of starting a family prayer with the Sign of the Cross in Spanish.

And then they thanked God for their mother and the food she prepared.

#heartmelt

The Day The Dreaded Box Appeared

One by one, they began to pop up in the places we visited.

First, it was the dentists' waiting room, where the children had always happily read books and played with toys.

Then, it was the mall, where a train table and imagination had always been a welcome distraction for our family on a cold winter day.

Next, it was at our swimming lesson spot. The quiet waiting room had been a place for us to catch up on coloring or alphabet puzzles.

And so I ask you, Society: do you want me to raise children who have interests beyond television shows? I ask you, Society: do you see the magnetic power of video and know that you are cultivating slow but sure addiction in each of your tiny members?

Turn off the box. Put it back in your storage room. Save the mothers a fight and allow our children to learn to while away their waiting moments playing, talking, and thinking.

In the Year of Kindergarten

Down for the count with pneumonia, which means mandated resting for me.  I have been slowing down.   (Almost had to read that again to believe it myself.)  I am taking time to watch the birds and write a bit.

For my to-be-Kindergartening Boy, Frankie

Just up the road.
You walk into the arms of people I know.
And you run home.  You run to embrace me.
You are mine.
Almost time to let you fly,
little sweet boy.
Share your endless laugh and big joy with a greater world!
You have so much to give!
I am so blessed to have held you this close so long.

For Jimmy, Age 7 in 2015

For Jimmy, Age 7 in 2015

In the year before golden, a boy lay in a cave, reading to himself about superheroes.

He biked down the block, racing from one end to the other, to see which of his best friends was home to play.

He carried a piggy bank up and downstairs, jingling the coins and wondering if the was the same amount of money saved today as yesterday.

In the year before golden, a boy helped to potty-train his little brother.  His mother heard him teaching oh-so-quietly and kindly.

He asked himself and others what Heaven would be like.

In the year before golden, a boy shared with his big brother and sister.  He forgave easily.  He loved deeply.

He believed that great things were possible, even when other people told him they were not.

In the year before golden, a boy with an impish grin wiggled and danced to Uptown Funk and everyone in the car smiled and laughed.

He begged his mother to take the swim test at the pool, and took it one, two, three times, speaking up and asking the lifeguard to open up a test lane, PLEASE, so he could earn the wristband.

He tested to see if his front teeth were loose.  They were not.

In the year before golden, a little boy learned to skip rocks with his Dad.   He wanted to try everything, it seemed.

He sang timidly and beautifully at church and in the car.  He did not know his mother was listening.

He sped down the waterslide and his skin grew so dark that people wondered if he had just come back from a sunny vacation.  He would have answered them, but he was already running off to a new adventure.

In the year before golden, the boy’s heart was so strong that he comforted people, even grown-ups, when they felt sadness.

The boy was a super hero, but he didn’t know it yet.  His mother saw his cape fluttering in the wind.

A Friday Thanksgiving

Dear Lord,

On this rainy morning, I sit in my car and feel the chill of a cold spring day. I am so happy in this moment.

Thank you, God, for wonderfulness in our family. Even with John traveling for work and long days, I have been able to see my beautiful children for their gifts these last days. You have reached in and given me extra patience to last all day long, snuggling up for a last hug with Lucy and an extra tuck-in for Tommy. Lord, I am so thankful for Jimmy this week. I am thankful for the way You made him, from his current sweet missing tooth grin to his unusually groovy dancing ability in the car on a Friday morning. I am thankful for even the moments when we struggle together. Sometimes in those moments, God, I can feel you giving me an opportunity to love beyond myself.

Are you loving all of us children like that every day, Lord? Surely You are.

God, let me be the woman You designed me to be. Help me to put aside my fears and trust You. Let me be a light for others, especially for the ones closest to me with whom I don't always show my most patient self.

Anne

A Sweet Pick Me Up

The house was chaos this morning. Dirty dishes overflowed from the sink, dirt was on the floor from yesterday's planting project. One kid was hyper and antagonizing the rest. Everyone was loud.

And then came the piano pounding.

Frank was seated on the bench, and I was poised to reprimand him for making my head hurt more than it already did through the chaos.

But here is the song he sang:

My mom is the best.
She can do anything.
She can even call Jesus on the phone.

With tears in my eyes, may I slow down and receive this great comfort in the craziest phase of my life.

Prayer After A Terrible Morning

Dear Lord,
That was a terrible morning. You know. You saw it. I yelled when the boys were rambunctious. I wasn't patient in helping guide them toward teeth brushing and Lego pick-up.
I grumbled as I did the dishes.
I rushed and made others anxious when I could have slowed down and smiled.
Sometimes (often) I am at my worst in my home. No audience is watching me except the people who have to love me.
I'm sorry, God, for these many times when I don't rise up and show my kids how to be their best by being my best. I can do better. I will do better.
God, give me strength to dig down deep and smile and give thanks.
Give me strength to love my family and to show love through the daily little trials.
Anne

Friendship in Faith

A break from reality.

I have been blessed to take not one but two girls' trips in the last month! I can hardly believe the magnitude of it. John has been working overtime holding down work and the home front. He is truly amazing.

This weekend, my bestie, Karen, and I renewed our tradition of a getaway to reminisce about our time together in young adulthood. This time, we celebrated 21 years of fren-niversary. So much laughter echoes in the wake of our formative years together.

One of the most special parts of my friendship with Karen is our shared Catholic faith. We were confirmed together, taught the youngsters of our parish Faith Formation together, prayed at Mass together September 11, 2001, and stood up for one another as we took our sacramental marriage vows.

This weekend, we visited the Cathedral of St. Francis in Santa Fe. Singing quietly alongside my friend and then bringing the gifts up for the Liturgy of the Eucharist, I thanked God for the gift of friendship in faith. We have comforted one another, celebrated with one another, and prayed for one another with God through so many moments of our life. It is my great prayer that my children, too, can have friends of the faith to walk the journey of life alongside them.

From the Suffering

Thank you, God, for the most difficult time in our family life, because it allowed us to grow.

A year ago, I could never have imagined writing that sentence.   But today, in my car, my heart opened to clarity in a surreal moment.  And I realized that I love my children more and better because of the hardships we have experienced.

This is the first time I have truly thanked God for suffering.

Family Fest Winter Weekend

Thirty teens dancing, smiling, opening their hearts to God.

Teaching my children what it means to serve with joy.

Dancing in the pool.

Dancing on stage.

Listening to God call within us.

Caramel rolls, holding hands, holding my baby as he grows.

Late nights, sleeping in, racing from one frosty door to the next.

Seeing my children come alive.

A Family Laundry Note

Dear Children,

Hello!  I am spending some time doing laundry today while you are all working hard at school.   Usually I do about 3 large loads of laundry every other day.  A family with six people can make a lot of laundry!   It does take some effort to get laundry downstairs, sorted, through the washer and dryer in a timely manner, folded, and then put away in the right spots.

Thank you so much for you efforts at putting your laundry away!   You guys have really gotten the knack of that, and it sure helps out around our home.   You have also been really helpful in bringing your dirty laundry downstairs.  I even saw a few kids folding shirts, towels, and socks over winter break.  Great job!

I would like to ask your help with a few things BEFORE you put laundry in your hamper:

1.)  Before you throw something in the laundry, ask yourself, "Is this item REALLY dirty?"   This can be a little tricky.  You already know that we can use towels 2 times or so.   We also should be used to wearing pajamas for 2 or 3 nights before they need to be washed.  Because you wear uniforms on many days, you sometimes use 2 sets of clothes for one day.   Any item worn for a few hours should be saved by hanging on a hook or putting away in your dresser again.   Some examples of this might include:

• Pants or a tshirt you changed into after school, but only wore for 2 hours before bedtime while playing XBox
• Pants you wore to a sport over shorts
• Sweatshirt or sweater that you threw on because you were chilly

Holding off on doing too much washing of an item will keep your favorite clothes less worn out, will make your Mom happy, and will also save on cost of water and electricity for our home.   You can all appreciate the value of resources now that you have learned about renewable and non-renewable ones at school.   (What kind of resource is water?  Bonus:  What kind of resource is Mom's time?)

2.) Dirty socks should always go in a hamper.  I know it is tempting to drop your socks wherever you be, but just this morning we had quite a scramble finding a few pairs of socks before we got in the car for school.   It really helps clean socks end up in your dresser drawer if you do not leave them under couches, in corners, or scattered about the mudroom.

3.) Dirty clothes and socks should NOT be inside-out in your dirty hamper.   Your clothes get way cleaner if they are washed not in a crumpled ball.  Socks that are squished up just stay a little stinky through the laundry process.   Also, it makes Mom's life a lot easier and folding a lot faster if your pants are not inside-out through the laundry process.

Thanks for taking the time to read this laundry tips!  I hope you are learning big things and having fun today.   As always, thank you for the opportunity to be

Your loving,

Mom

Goodbye, 2015

Dear Family,

This might be the first year of blur.   The year in which the days seemed short.   We were home less, we ran around more.  

I look back at 2015 and realize we have strengthened.  Dad and I don't pause often to share that with you between soccer and hockey and play practice and school.  Between faith formation lessons and homework and cleaning bedrooms and folding the towels you refuse to reuse.

But we have.  

This is the year you went back to your school not as the new kids.   You tried things you didn't know you would:  Tom running for student council with a campaign speech, Lucy auditioning for a play with kids 5 grades ahead of her, and Jimmy settling in for an extra hour of school at book club each week.   Frankie has been busy in church montessori, learning about the Mass and its special, holy Atrium.   We all have put ourselves out there.

We are proud of you.   We are proud of all these things you have reached for and enjoyed, but we are also proud JUST for the reaching.   We are proud for the times you have seen another student struggling and your teacher has reported how you reached out to help, and we are proud of the times you put yourself second and realized you could be an amazing brother or sister just by slowing down to help our youngest.   You are all so selfless, children.   Sometimes we see you spending your allowance down to the penny for another kid in our family and we are moved.   We want you to look out for yourself, but in being in our family, you have learned that looking out for yourself means giving to the collective.

How beautiful.

Sometimes the daily bumps of living with five other people blot out the shining beauty of this family, but today I see you for the beauty you have glowing inside.   

I see you, Frank, for the sweetness God has given you, which tranfixes us in our hardest moments.  We become angry but are softened by you, Frankie.  

Jimmy, I see you for your innate curiosity.   Your stream of consciousness reflections on life are deep beyond seven years.  You are vulnerable, too; needing our reassurance of love and belief.   

Lucy, I see in you that spark and drive from love.   You are aglow with wanting to share your kindness.  

Tom, I see in you a never-faltering sense of duty.   You always know what is right in life.   When you have the chance to be generous or dutiful, you do it and you don't really have to talk about it. 

Happy New Year's, my children.   I hope that the things your Dad and I are learning each year are passed onto you.  For us, the last few years have illuminated that hardship presses families to either lean into God or to turn away.   We have chosen to lean in, and we feel so strongly that God has surrounded us with a community to support us in our journey.

Love, 

Mom

Thank You, Family

Dear Family,

Thank you so much for the Christmas gift this week.  It wasn't wrapped under the tree, but when I received it, my heart warmed and I realized how blessed I am.

Tommy, you gave me the gift of a song sung quietly along to the car radio.   I turned down the volume to hear your wonderful voice, and you kept singing, trusting me with the special closeness of our daily life.  Not thinking I would judge you or laugh.   You were comfortable alongside me.  You were comfortable with yourself.

Lucy, you gave me the gift of laughter!   I look over at you sometimes, giggling with your cousins, and I see the wild eyes of joy that are so easily a part of who you are.   Your giggly joy is infectious and makes others around you happy.

Frank, you gave me the gift this week of a seeming-endless chattering before naptime with me in our bed.   You sang to yourself, pointed out features on your hands and my face, and finally told me about how Jesus puts a band-aid on our hearts.   How did you know I needed a band-aid on my heart in that moment, as I absorbed some difficult news about life?  Surely Jesus sent you as a gift to me.

Jimmy, you, too, gave me a gift this week.   A gift of time.   In your long illness this week before Christmas, you amazed me with a positive attitude.  You didn't complain.   You asked for homework; you studied for first reconciliation.   You waited patiently for doctors.   You listened.  You ran to me, still, to share funny anecdotes and joy.   It is a gift to see someone in pain still smile and love life.

And husband, you give me so many gifts it is hard to count.  But this week, I noticed especially the gift you have of caring for all of us first, in a selfless way that doesn't ask for thanks.  You are so humble and amazing.

I love you, my family!   I am so happy that we get to be together at Christmas.

Love, 

Mom

to my hardworking husband: things you don't always see

When the kids are worn out and tired, and they're falling apart, and you finally get to come home after a long day,

sometimes you have to miss their best moments.

Like right now, when Lucy (8) invited little Alayna (3) over to play and is pretty much baby-sitting her.  She is quietly teaching her how to paint and clean the brushes.  She is playing Barbies with her.   She is talking to her oh-so-gently about how very lucky we are to have a house and toys, and how some people don't have those things, so we should be thankful.

And earlier, when Frank was jumping whole hog into my arms off the edge of the deep end at the pool.  And every time shouting, "Do it again!"  And his face lighting up with joy that an adult just can hardly imagine.   

There are so many, many moments like this.   I wish we could bottle them up for you, my dear.

Thank you.

A Summertime Note

To my eldest three,

Tomorrow is August first, and what a summer it has been!   You kids are growing so strong, tan, and capable these days.   I leave you home alone for an hour if I have to run Frankie to school or head to Kwik trip, and you hold down the fort and *sometimes* put away a whole load of dishes for me.   Last night, you finished a session of swimming lessons and I was amazed at how hard you worked.  Jimmy, I thought you would burst into flames from the sheer speed of that side-breath stroke.

There are ups and downs in this family.  Somehow, when Daddy and I take you out for ice cream, you guys can find the most minute factors about which to bicker.   Most often than I would like, a kick-fight breaks out in a public setting.  Currently, you are all on no-screen grounding due to too much laughter and bickering at church last weekend.  How these two opposites can be achieved in a moment of life is beyond your mother's comprehension.

But I digress.  You are maturing.  You look at the world around us and wonder who you will become.   Tom, you ask how you will pay your mortgage and afford college.   Jim, you fix bike gears and analyze how things are constructed.  Lucy, you don athletic shorts and an unfussy pony tail and set out determined to have as much social interaction as could take place before sundown.

You all share a great and protective love for your brother, Frankie.   Since entering the terrible threes, Frank is prone to fits of screaming and poop accidents that sometimes, literally, have hit the fan.   But then, he is sweet.  Snuggling up with the closest individual, you can't help but love a boy who pops his thumb in his mouth and gives you his heart.   

This is a houseful of big kids these days.   Boys who ask if it might be appropriate to purchase a swimsuit calendar* (no!) and a girl who wonders why it is relevant to keep a room clean because if we lived in the jungle, it wouldn't make a differences.  

Kids who, I hope, know they are loved so deeply that the magnitude of it is impossible to grasp.

As always, I pray that you know how God made you unique and strong in His plan for life.   I pray, too, that Daddy and me might know the strength we were given to corral you and coax you and kiss you even when you spill milk again and again and again.

With great love,

Mom

*If you thought I would miss a chance to preach about the importance of recognizing women for our inner strength and beauty in addition to our God-given exterior beauty, you were, of course, mistaken.   Keep it classy.

On growing up

An old thought I felt captured this stage:

On the day of my daughter's 8th birthday,  I look around and realize we are raising children and not little ones.   My eldest has grown and changed.  He is thinking deeply, socially aware, and wondering what his place is in the world.   My thirdborn is sensitive, honest, and loving.  

I didn't realize their legs would grow and become so strong.  I didn't realize they would shoot up to half our height and keep growing.   I thought, for so many years, that going to the indoor park at the mall would just be our way of life forever.

Now they stand next to the height limit yardstick a little wistful, noting how they have grown and a bit how they long to be goofy little munchkins again.

This is the time of the in-between.   They aren't babies and they aren't teens, and they are ours to hold and tuck in at night.   They have big fears and big hearts.

The responsibility is also great for me.

But as one of my fellow moms said last week at our Bible study, we don't have to put all the pressure on ourselves.  Ultimately, God is guiding this course.   Every day, I have to get up and try my hardest to give these growing children what they need so much.  And I pray that God gives me the grace to get at least some of it right.

I love these kids.

I pray that, as we X off the days going so quickly by on the lunch calendar, there is time in between to talk about what is really important in life.  I pray for the strength to correct with love, to prioritize with grace, and to be the mom that God is calling me to be.  I pray for my husband, too.

Spring Reflection

Dear kids,

It's 7:19 and you are giving your mom a little quiet time by sleeping in today.  I can't believe how much our family has come through over the last year.   Easter put me in a contemplative mood yesterday.

A new school.  Dad and I surprised you all with the news of a major transition last spring.   I know our neighborhood school is wonderful, and it was difficult to decide to change course and switch you kids into Catholic school.   It took us many years of prayer and conversation to make that decision, and we trust that over time, the transition will offer each of you something great.   I hear you guys grumble about uniforms and faith education from time to time, and I hope that in your hearts, you know we are looking out for what we believe to be the most important part of your self-development.  There are good teachers and good people everywhere, but we are hoping you can learn to lay your trust in God in this new place.

We just returned from Disneyworld and your first airplane experience.  The ride home was bumpy (and airsickness-producing), but the days beforehand were filled with laughter and stretching of ourselves.   There is a lot of magic in seeing the creativity humankind puts forth.   We will not forget the Great Movie Ride with the mobsters or the Peter Pan Flight for some time to come.   

Yesterday in church, you sat pretty quietly.  I looked around the sanctuary and realized most of you kids are past the wiggling little kid stage.   What seemed like an endless time of shushing is gone, replaced by the stage of you quietly squeezing one another's hand too tightly during the Our Father or playing some mysterious finger game stealthily when I look the other way.  I'm breathing a sigh of relief, to be honest.   You come home from church sometimes really moved by the words you hear.  Last week, Tommy remarked that kids around the world are hungry and need help, and so maybe getting an iPad shouldn't be the top priority.

After Mass yesterday, we did something as a family that I didn't expect but found amazing.  We delivered your cards and the cards other church kids had made to a senior living facility next door.   We met new people, and we heard an old woman sigh, remembering aloud all the places she had visited in her life.  She spoke of her life knowing she had reached her final chapter.

The residents were so happy to see you kids.   You shyly knocked on doors, expanding your circle to include a generation you don't usually reach.   You made them laugh and smile.  You hugged them.   

My children, if I can leave you with anything, let it be that this gift of yourself is more important than the other things society is pushing us to achieve.  You are smart and talented, but getting As and getting picked for a sports team or play is not as important as touching another life and putting someone else first.  You learn so much from giving.

I don't really have to give you that advice, though, kiddos.  You do it so naturally.

I love you.

Mom