Mary in the Daily Grind

A Mary Moment Monday post

It feels like we’re more than halfway through the summer, but maybe that’s because I had myself a wee bit busy in June and it was gone before I could blink properly.

We’re moved into our new house and last week I even hung pictures. I’ve been thinking about decorating, which is so unlike me that I have had to stop and check to see if I’m breathing.

In our old house, I had lost hope. I felt like we were stuck, like it was a sinkhole, like all we could do was wait. I don’t defend that thinking, but it’s where I was.

And then, wow! Hey! The house down the road came up for sale and suddenly, we were moving. We kept waiting for the sale to fall through, for something to not work out, for it to be too good to be true. And…it never did. Here we are.

This house is one of the most visible signs of God’s love I’ve gotten in a while (barring my children). The last one was my husband’s job, which came out of nowhere almost four years ago, just as we were having our middle child (literally–they called him for the second interview while we were in the hospital).

Though my office remains a pile of boxes and there are odds and ends that I’ll be unpacking for probably months, we’re pretty much here. So much so that we’ve even gotten into a bit of a daily grind, a routine of sorts that is starting to feel familiar.

In that familiarity, I’ve been thinking of Mary. Part of it is that I have images of her all over my kitchen. Part of it is that familiarity has a way of leading me to taking things for granted and even to a sort of boredom.

I am a study of contradiction: I want things to change! change! change! but I abhor the new and different. I’m mired firmly in my way of doing things, but I’m always looking for something better.

My constant is Mary. Through the rosary, I feel like I’ve been gripping her and letting the chaos swirl around me. In the comfort of her embrace, I open my eyes to see none other than her Son.

There’s nothing boring about what she offers me in her Son. She urges me to say Yes, and to remember that she is always with me.

When we are down and out, we can turn to Mary. Sharing our pain and embarrassment, we can find in her a wise and gentle friend. Mary understands because she has walked the same challenging road we’re on. She can give us counsel and support because she has been there herself. She can guide and direct us because she has finished the course. Even more, she can give us her prayers. When we are too tired to pray, too disillusioned to hope, too afraid to try again, Mary is there, as is God. When we feel more like children than like mothers, Mary consoles us.

Jaymie Stuart Wolfe in Expecting a Miracle: A Companion Through Pregnancy

I’m turning to Mary, especially as I embrace what the rest of the summer holds for me (rolling with a new manuscript, primarily, and lots of daily grind).

Don’t forget that the next cycle of Total Consecration begins this Wednesday, July 13, and ends on the feast of the Assumption, August 15. You can order free materials from MyConsecration.org or use the free online resources at TotalConsecration.com.

In the Wings

I have quite a few things in the wings to write about…some of them are for various podcasting segments (Mary Moments, Mary in the Kitchen, and a new one that I can’t wait to tell you about), some of them are for various columns, and quite a few are for here.

There’s the saint that picked me (thanks to Jen’s saints name generator) and my word for this year (goes nicely with last year’s word). There’s the pile of books I’ve read and some great quotes and a reflection or two about Saint Joseph (especially in light of the little Joseph we have in our arms).

The thing is, those things that I have to write about are in my head and there seems to be, right now, a disconnect between what’s rattling around in my head and my ability to type  share it.

Season of life. New baby. Adjustments.

I know. I know.

I’m jumping back into some of my regular real-life work this week, plus we have appointments and, thanks to a generous offer from my mother-in-law, I’m going to spend an hour in Adoration this week. Just me, no kids. (Does she rock or what?!)

All that is to say that my desk is a mess and I’m figuring out this baby and if I’m quiet here (and in the other places you find me), that’s why. Not that you needed to know. But I needed to tell. :)

More from me…sometime soon.

What’s next?

A Mary Moment Monday post

There is a two-week window after having a baby where I go into “What’s next? What’s next! Whatsnextwhatsnextwhatsnext!?!?” mode. There’s a joy in this mode. It reminds me of Christmas night from my youth, after opening all the presents, when I would plot and plan and imagine the possibilities of life. It reminds me of the night before and after various milestone days — my high school, college, and grad school graduations; my wedding; the births of my children. It’s a bottled-up anticipation and a floating sort of feeling. The night before is conjecture and planning. The night after is delight and the beginning of analyzing, thinking, pondering.

I feel like I’m on the brink of something big and wonderful and possible, something that never existed before and might never exist again.

I was sitting in bed, nursing the new baby, the other night, and I realized I have entered this mode. I’ve steamed into it full-force. I’m laying in bed, my mind whirring and spinning, something in me crackling and zinging.

The thing about this mode is the way I feel like things are so possible. Somehow, I regain a sense of wonder, a touch of the idealism of junior high, a lapse from the cynicism I’ve carried for years. The world is new. Life is beautiful.

And then comes the crash. My body realizes, at some point, that we’re not in finals week in college, that this is not a sprint but a marathon of epic proportions. In a cynical bout, I’d call this crash “reality,” but I’ve come to see it as more of a further adjustment.

I need that wave of good, that injection of happy, to get me through the hurdles that will inevitably come. I’m wondering, this time around, if I can soften the crash by knowing it’s coming. I’m sure going to try.

As I hold my baby and contemplate the coming Nativity, I feel closer than ever to Mary. On Friday night, my husband took the kids to a local Christmas production. They were loaded up on a big wagon and taken to witness the Nativity events, from the Annunciation to the angels coming to the shepherds in the field (there is really a field and shepherds). They had a glimpse of the crowded streets of Bethlehem and they were in an “inn” for a few minutes before a shepherd came running in, breathless and excited, inviting everyone to “Come on!”

Then they met the Baby. He was in a cold, drafty barn. Though I wasn’t there this year, I thought of that barn as I stayed at home, caring for my five-day-old infant.

After the kids were in bed that night, my husband looked at me. “Can you imagine?” he asked. “No hospital. No heat. We just did that on Monday, but we didn’t do it like that at all!”

I can imagine. I have imagined. This week, those harsh realities and the gift they continue to bring to my life are going to be my life vest, my buoy to rest on, even as I whiz along in this new mode of life.

Seven Advent Tips

I started thinking about Advent earlier this year, when I signed a contract to write a short book of reflections for Advent. But what got me thinking about Advent for real was Jen’s post earlier this week asking for help. Her follow-up post, with 24 super-simple suggestions, is a must-read.

Before I read that follow-up post, though, I had started thinking about what advice I’d give other people (and myself, come to think of it), when it comes to Advent. It’s so easy to get caught up in all the things that can be done and feel like they should be done. It’s easy to focus on Christmas and forget that we’re preparing, not celebrating. In short, it’s all too tempting to put ourselves in a losing feeling-overwhelmed state of being.

There’s a lot of DOING that is a necessary part of Advent preparation. Let’s not add to it and make ourselves dread this season of joyful anticipation. Let’s savor the moments and keep things as simple as we can. There’s always next year…and if there’s not, what is there to gain by making this year a rat race?

Pick one thing.

There’s no shortage of ideas, suggestions, and great ways to use Advent to prepare yourself and your family for the coming of the Christ Child on Christmas Day. Picking one might sound underwhelming, but that’s my loud advice to everyone. What will work best for you? That’s a conversation you need to have…with your spouse, your children, yourself. You might only be able to handle a small prayer every day, and that’s okay. Change your before meal prayer to something Advent-themed; add a character to your nativity set every day; use an Advent calendar to count down the days. ONE THING. That’s it.

Pray.

You probably already pray, but this is something special. I’m not suggesting that you do something complicated. I find myself drawn to the Praying Advent website year after year, though the amount of time I can spend with that varies. This year, I might pick one of their prayers for each week and pray it in the morning and the evening. I want to be ready for the Christ Child, but I know myself well enough to know I have to plant the seeds every single day. Maybe what works for you will be something like an Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be while you’re in the shower or in your car, followed by a request to Jesus to guide you to Him throughout Advent.

Set the tone with Advent music.

You’ll probably have to do your own searching, because what’s on the air right now is Christmas music. There’s a place for that, though I find that by the time the Christmas season gets here, if I’ve been listening to Christmas music, I’m so burned out and bah-humbuggy that I have nothing nice to say about the sounds of the season. The season coming up, though, is Advent. Use music to set the tone in your house, to remind you of the season, to calm you when you feel yourself losing your mind.

Here are some of the suggestions I’m adding to my Advent playlist to help me prepare (with special thanks to Michelle, our parish’s music minister, and my Twitter and Facebook pals):

  • The Advent of Our King
  • Alma Redemptoris Mater
  • Christ the Light is Coming
  • The Coming of Our Lord
  • Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus
  • Comfort, Comfort My People
  • Coventry Carol
  • Drums, Bells, and Chimes
  • Joseph’s Lullaby
  • Jubilate, Deo
  • Lift Up Your Heads
  • Maranatha
  • Mary’s Song
  • O Come Divine Messiah
  • O Come O Come Emmanuel
  • Oh How a Rose E’er Blooming
  • On Jordan’s Bank
  • People Look East
  • Prepare, the Lord is Near
  • Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord
  • Ready the Way
  • Save Us, O Lord
  • Savior of the Nations Come
  • Sing of Mary
  • Take Comfort My People
  • A Voice Cries Out
  • Wake, O Wake
  • Ye Mighty Gates
  • You Clouds of Heaven Open Wide

A few of the other suggestions I received:

Wait to decorate.

This is pretty easy for me, because I have a natural tendency away from any sort of decorating. I find, though, that if I can keep the decorations from going up until the third or fourth Sunday of Advent (there is just no waiting longer — my husband loves Christmas decorations and so do my kids), I have a visible bareness in the house (because of course I have clear out room for the tree and all the rest). There’s room to discuss this non-decorating with my family, and especially as my oldest gets old enough to notice the discrepancy between our lack of decoration and the plethora of green and red everywhere else, and to point out that we’re still getting ready and preparing ourselves. It’s not time to celebrate yet.

Another approach I’ve thought about relating to decorating is doing just a little bit each week of Advent. For someone who is overwhelmed by things like decorating, this approach could work (as long as I have a spreadsheet with the rollout plan fully organized, that is). And, with a new baby sure to be changing the way our household runs during Advent, this might be the year I try it.

Shop less.

Last year, I experienced, for the first time, doing NO Christmas shopping during Advent. None. Nada. Zero. And it was GRRRRRREAT! For what felt like the first time in my life, I understood Advent as a totally different experience, and it was filled with a peace I had never before found in the weeks leading to Christmas.

This year I’m not going to accomplish that goal, but as I thought about it, I realized that shopping less during Advent can help me to keep my focus. Sometimes, shopping is just as much a part of the preparations as anything else, and you can’t avoid it altogether (much as those of us who lack the Shopping Gene hate that fact). But maybe shopping less will help you. For me, this involves both shopping less often and shopping for less stuff.

Focus on YOUR preparation (not what others are doing).

You will be able to find someone who manages to do it all. They have an Advent wreath, daily celebrations of the Advent saints, an interactive Advent calendar, family devotions, and three other things on top.

Which is all wonderful.

Do not, however, be tempted to compare yourself to this person or family. If you find yourself shaking your head and suddenly tempted to reexamine your own Advent observations, STOP. Say a Hail Mary and remember that Mary, holy and perfect though she was, did not do it all either. Jesus isn’t asking you to be a wonderworker. He’s asking you to make yourself ready for His coming…which you can’t do if you’re busy beating yourself up for what you’re not doing.

Breathe. Accept. Smile.

I’m writing this advice for myself. In two weeks — or possibly sooner — I’m going to to need it. Christmas will come, whether I’m ready for it or not. But, by God’s grace, I’ll be closer to ready than I am right now, and it is my prayer — for you and for me — that I can cooperate with the grace He sends my way to help me on that journey through Advent.

What advice do YOU have for Advent?

Be sure to visit Conversion Diary for this week’s Quick Takes. It’s sure to amuse you for hours on end. :)

Image source

Quick Takes, October Edition

- 1 -

Wasp wars resume in the Reinhard house. I was thinking of doing a whole series of Quick Takes on wasps, and how they entertain me, but then I realized that my tales of woe just can’t compare to Jen’s scorpion stories. It’s not a contest, of course, but at least I can hold out hope that the weather will get cold and freeze their stinging little butts into oblivion (or at least hibernation). That, and my husband assures me that there are some measures he can take when he schedules a day off to do some homestead work. I trust him. (I have to. Otherwise I will slowly lose my mind.)

I’d be remiss, though, not to capture this story, which has had a couple of people laughing (whether at me or with me, I don’t care to clarify).

The other night, I was working late (as in after dinner but before bedtime) in my office. Though I try not to make a habit of this, there was stuff that needed done and we had been out of the house and away from the computer most of the day, blah blah blah.

I felt this little feeling inside my shirt, and I scratched. It didn’t go away, but kept tingling a bit.

As it turns out, I had A WASP IN MY SHIRT.

Yes, that’s right. A WASP WAS IN MY SHIRT.

OF COURSE I screamed. And danced around. And shook my shirt. Did I mention that I was screaming, a mere one room over from my children, who were happily engaged in some animated entertainment? Those two children were COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS to my shouts and cries and interesting near-obscenities. (I think there was something like “DIE YOU SCURVY DOG MEET YOUR MAKER I SHALL KILL ALL OF YOUR KIND” in there somewhere.)

(In my husband’s defense, he wasn’t home yet. He is innocent of Ignoring Wife’s Frantic Wasp-Related Screams.)

I got the wasp out of my shirt, sat back down at my chair, pulled myself up cozy to my laptop, Twittered (quite a few times), and then felt a strange tickling on the back of my neck. ANOTHER WASP? OR THE SAME ONE?

Does it matter? I finally fed its dead body (and those of its comrades who showed up shortly after) to the kittens and decided I was taking my laptop to the other room.

- 2 -

Here’s something interesting in the movie world: There Be Dragons. It’s based on the life of Saint Josemaria Escriva, founder of Opus Dei, whose writings have touched me immensely.

Roland Joffe, the director who brought us the highly acclaimed and deeply spiritual film The Mission has returned to his roots with the epic movie There Be Dragons, a powerful story of war, tragedy, love and redemption. Featured in the New York Times, the $35 million Dragons is rated PG-13 and planned for release in theaters worldwide in Spring, 2011. Set during the turmoil of the Spanish Civil War (early 1900s), Dragons tells the story of two childhood friends who become separated during the political conflict to find themselves on opposite sides as war erupts. One chooses the path of peace and becomes a priest while the other chooses the life of a soldier driven by jealousy and revenge. Each will struggle to find the power of forgiveness over the forces that tore their lives and friendship apart.

The trailer is pretty powerful…but then, that’s what trailers are supposed to be, right? I’m as interested in it because it looks like the kind of professionally done film that Therese was a few years back. We went, in fact, two or three times to see Therese in the theater (which is saying something, because we generally avoid theaters altogether).

Marcel at Aggie Catholics had an interesting review too. Hmm. Makes me want a review copy, actually, and I’m veryVERY-V-E-R-Y slow to EVER request movies for review.

- 3 -

My three-year-old daughter is exploring her inner self. Or that’s how I think of her constantly changing identity. Every day, she has a different imaginary friend AND she often has a new persona. Yesterday, for example, she was a flying pony named Wysteria. The day before, she was riding a blue horse for most of the afternoon. She’s also often a dog (usually a girl, though she doesn’t limit herself to gender), though I’ve spent some good time teaching her that PRETEND dogs do NOT eat REAL dog food (only PRETEND dog food). This point is a little easier now that the puppies have moved outside, though we do still have kittens in the house…she has had no interest in being a kitten…yet.

Anyone else have fun preschooler pretend stories? I love watching her imagination explode…and I don’t remember my older daughter (now five) being quite this expressive about pretending in this way.

- 4 -

This week, I did something unprecedented. In fact, I think that I managed to shock my dear husband.

I deep cleaned the three major rooms of our downstairs. I couldn’t get into the office, because the cat litter’s in there, but I tackled the living room, playroom, and kitchen. For three nights this week, he came home to a new clean surprise.

Monday night, on my way home from our evening obligation, I saw his text: “Wow. I am impressed.” I tried to play it off like it was about the sloppy joes, but I knew that, though it was a good batch, it didn’t warrant that particular reaction.

Tuesday and Wednesday, he was equally impressed, and I was home to receive the praise first-hand.

Thursday, I didn’t clean.

No, I’m not nesting. Nesting, for me, involves building a nest-like area on the couch, complete with fuzzy blankets and a good read. This was long overdue cleaning that just needed done. I motivated myself by telling myself that, as much as I loathe and avoid cleaning, this was a gift to my husband, one that he would not expect to the scale and quality I was doing it.

- 5 -

I just heard about a new DVD about Saint Giana Beretta Molla. She’s a special saint to me, especially right now, as I sit here 34 weeks pregnant.

St. Gianna Beretta Molla: A Modern Day Hero of Divine Love is a new DVD about a saint who lived in our own time. The DVD is a visual delight, featuring photos and home movies of St. Gianna, who lived from 1922 to 1962. One gets to see her getting married and playing with her children and living out her career as a doctor. Viewers see her laughing and smiling and loving life. This is a real woman. She is someone like us.

Here we get to know a woman like so many of us who struggled to balance work and family. She was highly intelligent, excelling in her studies. She also loved music and art and being in the mountains. She loved her family above all else, but saw her career as a physician as a calling from God. Not only did she run her own practice, she was an active volunteer and sought to bring medical care to those who needed it, especially mothers and children. She would tell other doctors that “when you have finished your earthly profession, if you have done this well, you will enjoy divine life ‘because I was sick and you healed me.’”

St. Gianna was raised in a Christ-centered family and sought to raise her children the same way. Her life was one of service and was deeply rooted in prayer. She attended daily Mass as often as possible and prayed her rosary daily. She was always ready to encourage others in their relationship with God. She was a woman who viewed life as a gift from God and trusted in the power of prayer. Totally pro-life, her ultimate sacrifice was to give birth to her last child, even though she was advised against it and knew it might result in her own death. After giving birth, she bravely bore her final suffering with grace and prayer. She died on April 28, 1962 at the age of 39. Beatified in 1994 and canonized in 2004, Pope John Paul II held St. Gianna up as a role model for mothers, physicians, and the pro-life cause.

St. Gianna Beretta Molla: A Modern Day Hero of Divine Love was produced by Catholic Action for Faith and Family which includes the St. Gianna Physician’s Guild. The mission of the Guild is to unite and encourage Catholic physicians and health care professionals, to promote and defend Catholic principles in a public way by word and example, and to inspire sanctification in their lives.

- 6 -

New to the nightstand: (to borrow Julie’s phrase, and I see it’s on her nightstand too)
Full of Grace: Encountering Mary in Faith, Art, and Life
, by Judith Dupre

Somehow, I have a reputation with things Marian, so I chanced into this review copy. :) After I finished a rather bleh YA novel the other night, I dug right in, forgetting all about the other long-suffering review titles that have been waiting their turn patiently for months.

Because this book is beautiful. And, after only the first chapter, it’s pretty good. It appeals to my Catholic side, but also to my human side. But I’m only one chapter in. I’m sure I’ll be blogging about it as I journey through it, because it seems to just be that sort of book.

- 7 -

So I realized, this week, that I need to get my Christmas gift act together. This involves a spreadsheet and budgeting and, horror of horrors, shopping. But with a baby due on December 4 and a long-standing goal of being done with my shopping before Advent (after last year’s success and peace of mind, I’m SOLD!), I’d better get cracking! I’m trying to think of it as a gift I give myself (and my family, who lives with me when I’m stressed), instead of as a huge project that needs tackled. Sort of like the cleaning. Punctuate these unsavory tasks with prayer and you have grace in action, right? :)

Go to Conversion Diary for the Quick Takes round-up, where Jen will delight you with her humor and inspire you with her insight (sometimes even in the same post).

Because the Days are Fleeting

I have a pile of books to review here, in this space. I have requests in my inbox for announcements to be shared here, in this space. I have thoughts swirling in my brain, waiting for the chance to come out here, in this space.

But I also want to remember that this space is a little corner where I can share the most precious moments of my current days.

Like, for example, my equestrian daughter and her persistence with a pony who shares a flair for being strong-willed that she meets as though she recognizes just what to do about it:

Or the way the other daughter just falls asleep. Will I ever get tired of her scrunched-up sleeping face?

No, I think I won’t. It won’t be that small or scrunched-up (or willing to be posted in cyberspace) for much longer…

And we can’t forget the newest members of our household:

How about pigtails? (Some of the other women in my girls’ lives have introduced them to a concept known as “Mommy Does Your Hair.” Have I mentioned I’m a tomboy, through and through? These pigtails are darn cute, because they’re on my really adorable children, but I think I may need to start practicing on the Barbie head that’s floating around here somewhere…)

(Oh, and we can’t forget the empty jar she insisted on holding.)

These days are sliding by fast enough without me forgetting to share them…perhaps with a me who will stumble across them in a few years and wonder where those little girls went.

Curing the Summertime Blues, by Maia

This is an example of a fabulous guest post that was lost in the shuffle during my email crisis. Though it’s perhaps not as relevant now that school’s just about to start (next week! really?), I wanted to post it before summer was completely gone, especially since Maia was kind enough to send it and patient enough to not throw a sharp or blunt object at me for letting it gather so much dust while I wasn’t checking blog email. You’ll find more of her wonderful work at the group blog, Flowers Round the Cross, where she strives to uncover her vocation as a Catholic military wife and mother.

What do you do with summer? No matter your duty station in life, summer seems to universally present a change.  Even with young children, who don’t provide the school/no school challenge, summer comes and thumbs it’s nose at me taunting, “You think you just got some semblance of order?  Now what are you going to do?!”  Menus change.  Reading lists change.  Activities change.  Schedules change.  That last one, for me, is a doozy, and I find myself echoing Maria’s sentiments as she gazes through the gates at the imposing von Trapp villa: “Oh, help.

See, I am terrifically terrible at setting lines in my life. I don’t wear a watch.  I rarely look at calendars.  And, while I have been heroic in my efforts to incorporate a day planner into my life, there is nothing like a sheet of paper with lines labeled with the “o’clocks” to consternate me.

How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?

But life as a Catholic and a mom and a wife to a soldier has convinced me that order is necessary and, wonders-never-cease, enjoyable. Something I was willing to consider only after reading Holly Pierlot’s A Mother’s Rule of Life (*inserts shameless plug here*).  Here enters my dilemma:  if order was so difficult for me to establish in the first place, what am I supposed to do every time life changes?  Must I sit down a create a new template every 3 or so years when we pack up our lives and follow the beat of the Army’s drum?  Should I revise my draft whenever a child grows out of his sleeping/eating/pooping/playing schedule?  And what do you do with summer?

This summer is our first summer in South Korea (compliments of the United States Army). It is my first summer with a both a toddler, who is running, and a baby, who is nearly ready to walk.  We are all exploring our new space and our new skills of navigation at a rapid pace.  Things are feeling a little chaotic with little time/energy left to pray and just when I have a sliver of time…WHO HAS TORN UP MY MAGNIFICAT?!?!?!  It leaves very little time to determine and craft schedules.  After coming to the realization that I was spending an inordinate amount of time worrying over this, I remembered that summers as a child were wonderful because they flowed on a much looser framework.  Order consisted of mornings at the pool for swim lessons and afternoon in the yard.  Everything else just fit into place.

As a mom, I’ve found that responsibility creates a need for a little more structure, but the principle remains the same: looser framework. The trick, for me, becomes not falling into sloth (both spiritually and around the house) but at the same time not becoming hung up by a million tiny details.  So from my chaos to yours, here are five things that are working particularly well for me:

1) a holy card clipped by the kitchen sink

Nothing like a reminder of the Holy Family to remind me what we are working for and to give me a little prayer poke.

2) a laundry hamper in the kitchen

Weird, yes, but we do all of our living there and I have kids who dirty and shed clothes without ceasing.  Having a hamper there means that their costume changes don’t add to extra clutter, and it’s an added benefit that stray socks and used kitchen towels have a convenient resting place as well.

3) the swim bag, packed and ready to go by the door every night

As SOON as we get home from swimming I throw swim trucks, swim diapers (cloth), and swim suit into a cold/no detergent wash, let air dry, and then pack back up.  I’ve tried procrastinating on this, but I don’t need to go into how gross the swim bag smelled…

4) a wearable rosary

Mine is a full 5 decades on stretchy cord that wraps around my wrist, but I think a decade bracelet rosary would work just as well.  Peggy Bowes has been a fantastic inspiration for me this summer.  (*shameless plug for The Rosary Workout*)

5) walk, walk, walk

This one, at this duty station as well as our last one, has been from necessity rather than active decision.  We only have one car, and rather than get stuck at home…

The benefits of this have been great.  I get exercise.  My kids get a nap if they are tired.  I have time to pray at least part of the Rosary.

Most days — especially if my husband has the car — we walk to play groups, story time, daily Mass, the store (for as many non-perishable items as we can fit in the bottom of the stroller), the pool, and wherever else needs walking to.  I cannot emphasize the good that has come from this, not the least of which comes from being out-of-doors and away from the TV.

This walk provides the structure for our day. We get up, eat and I caffeinate.  We tidy up a little (read: we usually leave the apartment with it looking like a toy tornado swept through).  We are out the door no later than 0900 (unless we forget shoes or sunglasses or water…ok, ok 9:15!).  We go to the places we need to go (and they nap when and if they need to nap) most days ending at the pool.  We walk home.  Since the boys have been out all day, they are usually content to play with their toys and help me around the house, have at least two full scale battles over their toys, and whine over an infinite number of things while I fix dinner (if you were reading this article hoping to find out how to have perfect children, you will find no answers here — I think I need Dr. Ray Guarendi on speed dial!).  I am under no illusions that this will work for us forever.  As time passes there will, God willing, be more children and older children and different activities that need doing.  For now we are blessed to have this — and yes, I still register shock when I hear myself say that we are blessed to only have one car.

Before discovering this solution, I was fretting over the chaos of our days. In my searches for a solution for a better prayer life, I discovered a site on being Catholic in summer.  I blogged about the stress of finding faith in summer.  I found inspiration at Amongst Lovely Things and Like Mother, Like Daughter. And I prayed for help in balancing my polar tendencies toward control freak (in one direction) and lazy bum (in the other).  It’s feast or famine, you know, with both extremes being the famine and balance being the feast.  We are still experiencing some days that are rough and chaotic as I struggle with my fallen nature.  Thankfully, however, our summer is taking on an over-arching theme of simple structure, while we banish the summertime blues, revel in the chaos, and find a little bliss.

What home remedy cures have you found for the summertime blues?

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