Around the house: The dishwasher and washing machine are busy doing their work, the four-year-old is beside me making a deck of horse cards into a quite hilarious drama, and the mancub is “sleeping” (he stopped singing, and I’m going to blog in that small window of time).

In my thoughts: I’m thinking of the blessing of another year, the joy of Christmas, and the lovely smell of the Dutch apple pie candle that’s burning on the counter nearby.

In my plans: I surely have plans, I just can’t think of what they are. Today, I’m going to figure out what’s for dinner this week and I’m going to start in on the recurring to-do list. There are some twists and turns ahead this week, but we’ll take those one at a time.

In thanksgiving: For peace, despite mental chaos. For the kids in my life. For the friends who won’t let me forget what this week is, despite my own attempts to play it down. For my husband.

Nose inserted: I am reading the first of the Young Chesterton Chronicles, The Tripods Attack!, by John McNichol. I’m also reading an advance copy of the tenth edition of Surviving Depression: A Catholic Approach, by Kathryn Hermes. Last week, I started Strengthening Your Family: A Catholic Approach to Holiness at Home, by Marge Fenelon.

Recent reads: 

• Who’s There?, by Seth Godin - Read in part because I’m a nerd and in part because I blog each week about blogging over at the Catholic Writers Guild blog, and I thought this would be a good resource. It was free and quick and I was okay with it. Not a bad introduction to blogging and things online, even if it was written long enough ago to be a touch out-of-date. I’m always looking for resources to share with writers who want to blog but aren’t sure how to start, and this is pretty decent for that end.
• Darkling Fields of Arvon, by James Anderson and Mark Sebanc – I enjoyed reading the first book in this series, and I enjoyed this one as well. In fact, my reading it (which was long overdue–it’s been on my shelf for far too long!) inspired me to share the series with my husband. I found the names a bit difficult (but I always do with these fantasy types of books), but enjoyed the story immensely. It moves pretty well, has an underlying tone that’s intriguing, and is, all in all, a good read.

Food for thought: No wise man ever wished to be younger. (From CoolNSmart.com)

Worth a thousand words: On either side of my kitchen sink and the window above it (because, though I didn’t muster together a whole Marian post, I can at least share some lovely images, right?):

I love the idea. I hate the reality.

But I’ve come to find, especially this year, that I can choose my attitude (hard though that may be so often) and thus, my reality. Hosting this carnival is one way that has helped me to get outside of myself and enjoy the season.

So welcome to our carnival of Advent wreaths! (Updated with new additions at the end.)

My passion for Advent wreaths is thanks to an aunt (the one who loved The Sound of Music with such abandon). She would make such an adventure out of lighting the candles, and she always had a story about each candle. I’ve since found versions of the stories and shared them in various places, from our parish bulletin to my own book of Advent and Christmas reflections. (I can’t seem to find the original paper she gave me about nine years ago when I started teaching 3rd grade religious education classes, though.)

When I was shopping with my mother-in-law a number of years ago at our local Catholic store, we came across this Advent wreath. I was enchanted with the figures and went on and on and on about how it reminded me of my aunt and the stories she told as she lit the Advent candles.

My mother-in-law bought me that Advent wreath as a gift that year, and it has been a part of our Advent ever since. It’s made by Roman, Inc., though I’ve been unable to find it anywhere online.

(I’m not such a fan of how the tapers tend to tip and sway and need some extra help.)

I’m including the excerpts that we’ve used in our parish bulletin below, which I found online at Living Hope.

We light the candle by the Virgin Mary first, which my aunt called the Prophecy Candle.

The Prophecy Candle reminds us of the promise God made his people long ago and opens the period of waiting.

Then we light the candle with Joseph and the Baby Jesus, the Bethlehem Candle.

The Bethlehem Candle reminds us to make room for the needs of others, as the innkeeper did for Joseph and Mary. It is symbolic of the preparation being made in our hearts to receive and cradle the Christ Child.

This week’s candle is the Shepherd Candle.

This candle reminds us of the announcement to the shepherds of the birth of Jesus and typifies the act of sharing Christ with others.

The last week of Advent, we’ll light the Angel Candle.

The Angel Candle reminds us of the angel sent by God to tell of the birth of Jesus. It is the candle of love and the final coming.

The Christ Candle is in the center, and we light it (and all the others!) on Christmas (and until the end of the Christmas season, which, for us, usually goes at least for 12 days, until January 6, but sometimes as long as the Baptism of Our Lord).

The Advent season ends on Christmas when the Christ Child or Christmas candle is lit. This larger, central candle symbolizes Christ as the light of the world. Together with the other candles, it is a dazzling climax which reminds us of God’s great gift to us.

I didn’t realize, until I started collecting the submissions for this Advent Wreath Carnival, what a delightful and varied assortment there is!

Let’s take a look at our submissions, shall we?

Larissa Hoffman shared her wreath with me (and, in a way, inspired this carnival!) on St. Nicholas Day. It looks like her family is enjoying their wreath and using it pretty often.

Lorna Reine was inspired to hang her Advent wreath by Charlotte at Waltzing Matilda. She made the actual wreath at a parish event a number of years ago.

Heather Hampton says her Advent wreath is perfect for her family with five little ones (ages 8, 7, 5, 3 and 10 months). She says, “No one is reaching for the carrots and burning themselves on the flimsy taper candles.”

My friend Jodi Santini sent this picture in of her family’s wreath. She’s a member of my parish and, a number of years ago, she marked herself as my first godchild when she came into the Catholic Church at the Easter Vigil. I particularly love the shiny ribbon.

Pat Gohn of Among Women may claim she’s craft-impaired, but her Advent wreath proves that her creativity wins over those struggles. She shares that this is “easily re-usable year to year. Colored ribbons denote purple & pink/rose colors on a wreath. Just add votive size candles or tea lights.”

Christine, who blogs at Domestic Vocation and is on Twitter as @CatholicMomVA, uses jar candles (very inexpensive from a certain unnamed big box store, she told me), and she said they last through all of Advent. I’ll bet they smell delightful, too!

Jen Minson transforms her prayer corner for Advent. Isn’t it lovely? I feel peaceful just looking at it.

Diane Brooke has a huge outdoor Advent wreath. They light a new candle each week. What a way to evangelize and share the season with others!

Lena Flores, of JOYfilled Family, has quite a flair for making her Advent wreath into a haven, don’t you agree?

Barb, of SFO Mom, is using the same Advent wreath her husband used while growing up, which must make the season feel so special to her family.

Ellen Thomas did quite a bit of cleaning to get me a picture of her Advent wreath, and over at her blog, Salome Ellen, she shares more than one picture. (I just lifted one of them for this carnival.) I wouldn’t mind sharing a cup of coffee with her at that table…how about you?

Kerri shared at Journal of a Nobody that her Advent wreath doesn’t have purple candles because she waited too long to try to get her candles. There’s a tradition, though, of red candles, especially in Protestant churches in Britain (according to Wikipedia…take it with a grain of salt…but I have seen red candles before).

Katie at Orange, Pink, and Green has an Advent wreath that touches my heart. That candle in the center? LOVE! She has a close-up of it over at her blog and explains how she made it (and I think that maybe, just maybe, I might try a version of it for myself).

Thanks to everyone for participating! I think I may have to include at least two more Advent wreaths in my home after this walk down Advent Wreath Lane!

Want to share YOUR Advent wreath? Go ahead and send it to me or link to it in the comments…I’ll update this post periodically and maybe we’ll do this again someday!

New additions (see? told you I’d keep updated…I can’t help it, I want to share them all!):

ViolinMama, from A Rosey Outlook on Life, has a brand-new Advent wreath (the one from her childhood is “lost” in storage).

Sanne, from the Netherlands, shared her wreath and she included a picture she’s working on of Mary and Joseph on their way to Bethlehem. (I’d like to see that when it’s done!)

GeekLady of Geek Tales has quite a lovely wreath, don’t you agree? I especially like the beverage that accompanies it (you mean I’m not the only one having that sort of week?). I like the shiny stuff around the candles, too. I have no illusions about this, though: she talks about making her own candles next year. Wow.

Jen at Happy Little Homemaker has an Advent wreath that screams “I know how to decoupage,” but isn’t it lovely, all the same? She said the evergreen branches didn’t last, though she had them in there earlier, before the needles fell off.

Renee sent me this via email. She shared, “Our family put this together a couple of years ago, using a wreath and some votive candle holders that slightly resemble wine glasses with long stems. We added all the decorations and ribbons. Every night in Advent we gather together to say our prayers, and for the past couple of years we have added the daily prayers from one of the Advent and Christmas books like this one.”

Melanie, from The Rosary Chick, has not one, but TWO, Advent wreaths. Pictured at the top is the wreath in her living room. The second picture is the one on her table so that they can enjoy it during dinner. She gets her kids involved in the lighting and praying and, well, every aspect of it. Since it’s unlikely I’ll be able to make it to her house for dinner this Advent, I’ll live vicariously through her post.

Around the house: The kids are up, though the baby’s still cooing in his crib and the girls are coloring and watching Saturday morning cartoons. I’m planted at the bar with my laptop and my coffee. I went “off the grid” yesterday and we had a delightful day full of horses and laughter. Saturday mornings, I often catch myself sneaking off to do some work, but today I’m doing it in the middle of all the action.

What I’ve been writing:

• At CatholicMom.com, I have a review of a rosary must-read, Living the Rosary: Finding Your Life in the Mysteries, by Fr. John Phalen. It’s an amazing book and especially appropriate to read during October. Or, really, anytime.
• At Faith & Family Live, I’m not writing, I’m yakkin’ with Kate and Rachel this week for the podcast. We talked fall fun, a fabulous movie, and beating the blues.

In my kitchen: It is a mess. In the last week, my mother-in-law and I processed just less than two-and-a-half bushels of apples. It was fabulous, and I think it marks the end of my canning for this season, which began with tomatoes and included grapes and more tomatoes. There might be some tomatoes still out in the garden, and I might find myself canning a bit more, but it’s time to scrub down the kitchen.

In my thoughts: Tomorrow, our three-year-old daughter turns four. I have her on my mind. (And I’m trying to keep the “slacker mom who never has birthday parties of note, with anyone, ever” thoughts at bay.)

In my plans: Though I am a low-key birthday celebrations kind of mom, I will make a cake. I WILL. Today.

In thanksgiving: For forgiveness, especially through the sacrament of Confession and from children whose example I should follow. For a delightful class of 5th graders.

In my prayers: A few special friends who have requested my prayers. The Confirmation class at our parish.

Nose inserted: I’m reading a review copy of Seven from Heaven: How the Sacraments Can Heal, Nurture, and Protect Your Family Today, by Elizabeth Ficocelli and Soul Reader, by Gerard Webster.

A favorite thing: My girls being horses, or riding horses, or both at the same time, all over the house and yard.

Food for thought: Attracted by the heavenly brightness of the Mother of the Redeemer, let us turn with trust to the one who looks upon us and protects us from on high.We all need her help and comfort to face the trials and challenges of daily life; we need to feel that she is our mother and sister in the concrete situations of our lives. - Pope Benedict XVI, in the Angelus address on August 15, 2007, via BenedictEveryday.com, emphasis mine

Parting trifle: Look what came in the mail this week, quite unexpectedly!

It’s latest pamphlet from Liguori, Do I Really Have to Give Something up For Lent? (available from your Catholic bookstore, Liguori, or pre-order from Amazon) Rhe shock, awe, and wonder at my words being published will wear off, right?

A Mary Moment Monday post

In our new house, I find myself with my own room. It’s a bit disconcerting, and I feel a bit guilty about it.

But…I needed a place for my desk and, really, a place to do my writing work (and pay the bills). And here it is, in its very own room.

In the beginning, I put a shelf with toys in here with me, thinking that while I tapped away and did the things I do, the kids could play. My husband frowned, and I had to admit that he was right after the three-year-old started using my desk items and critical papers as her toys.

It’s not that we don’t have plenty of other places for toys. They’re more organized than they’ve ever been, in fact. (How long will that last? We’ll see…)

It’s not that I can’t do my work in some other room, because I can and have, especially at the kitchen table or the little bar we have.

It’s not that I don’t like having my own space, a corner of my own. I love it.

It’s that I feel a bit guilty about it.

There are many reasons for that guilt, but as I’ve spent time pondering it and examining it, I’ve realized that it’s a lot like the other guilt in my life.

That guilt is not helpful. It’s not leading me closer to God.

There’s a place for guilt. I’m a fan, in fact, of my “Catholic guilt.”

Let me define what I mean by that, because I don’t mean “feeling badly about things.” For me, Catholic guilt is an indicator, not something random. It’s a gauge, telling me when I’m close to (or on) “empty,” in need of a sacramental refill (such as Confession).

Feeling guilty about the blessings God has given me is in no way Catholic (or helpful, for that matter). For me, it’s a path leading me AWAY from the abundance in front of me and a healthy appreciation of it.

How do you suppose Mary dealt with guilt? Did she feel guilty about being chosen to be Mother of God?

It’s all too easy to allow guilt–in the name of “Catholic guilt”–drive my decisions. It’s all too easy to ignore the underlying reasons for my guilt and pretend I can’t help it.

It’s novel to me that I can control my feelings. Aren’t feelings as unpredictable as the weather?

Knowing that I am in control (of my feelings…or maybe, more precisely, my reaction to my feelings) changes things. It makes my approach to guilt in general different.

I suspect that Mary battled feelings of guilt, just as we all do, especially when we have other people’s lives to worry about. Guilt is human, and Mary was human.

What Mary has to teach me about guilt is in her approach to it. I think, instead of feeling sorry for herself or abandoning herself to its effect, she turned first to God. I think, instead of complaining about it, she examined it and thought about it.

In Scripture, Mary didn’t do a lot of talking or responding. She pondered. She thought. She reflected.

And, in that, she turned to God FIRST. Her heart magnified the Lord.

I am going to try to take a lesson from her this week and give my unneccesary guilt to God. He can carry it far better than I can anyway.

image courtesy of my three-year-old

A Mary Moment Monday post

It doesn’t take much for me to long to be where the grass (appears to be) greener. Every so often, though, I get a chance to actually go where the grass is greener.

Like across the street.

Into a brand-spankin-new (to us) house.

We are still shaking our heads over this. And now that we’re here, we see just how green the grass really is.

There’s new carpet. There are walls with drywall and studs. There’s insulation. There’s even…wait for it…a GARAGE, with an OPENER, that is ATTACHED.

Oh, and did I mention there’s a dishwasher? And that it’s not me? :-)

These are just the tip of the new house iceberg for us. Though this house is about 30 years old, that makes it at least 80 years newer than our previous home.

There’s charm to an old house. The charm, though, comes with a price. In this new house, I find I can relax as I cross “hunting down the wasps before they sting someone” and “worry about swarming bees but leave it in God’s hands” off my daily to-do lists.

We are thrilled. We’re past the hump of not believing we’re really here. I’ve hung some pictures and have even tried my hand at a wee bit of decorating (with some help).

A friend, when discussing my decoration strategy, mentioned that it seemed to have a Marian theme.

She’s right: it does.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Lady of Perpetual Help, Our Lady of Grace, the Holy Family, and a bust of Mary are all within sight of me as I type from the couch in the family room.

I have just the spot for a big statue of Mary (when I can find and afford just the right one) between my kitchen and family room. And there are places in the front room, my office, and the bedrooms where we will certainly incorporate the Blessed Mother.

At first, it might seem like an obsession. I think of it, though, as a reminder to all of us of who our model is and where she points. When I see Mary, I smile (even if I am in the middle of ranting at her Son), because I know she can take whatever I dish her way (and so can her Son; he had a good teacher in that regard).

The many Marys in my house remind me how much I am loved. Just look at this palace, this house that is so much nicer than what we were unable to build the three times we researched it (and gave up on it–the most recent time less than a year ago). Just look at these children, at the family beyond our doors, at the many other blessings.

Mary points me to the power of God’s love for me and the amazing things that will happen if I step aside. She shows me, again and again, the joy of Yes, when that Yes is said to God (and even when it’s said with a bit of a hesitation, with some grumbling, with a frowny-face).

Tis the season for being burned out. I seem to be coming out of it, but when I sat down and thought about it, I realized it happens to me every year around this time. I feel like I’m unable to do it all, like the universe is conspiring against me. The “to do” list seems to be impossible, an endless supply of things I won’t get done, and then the reality of the deadlines and the people I’ll let down washes over me and I feel futility set in.

I first encountered burnout in college, near the end of my time there. I look back and I just don’t know how I did it all—the clubs, the meetings, the organizations, the fund-raisers and the extra classes, the projects for charity, the parties, the hanging out, and on and on and on. That final spring quarter, I was a waste, not worth much at all. Nothing seemed to be worth it, and no matter how much I did, there was always more to do.

After I graduated, I left all that behind me and started all over. I thought that with a job, I had all this free evening time, so I set about filling it. I taught Sunday school classes, attended every evening Bible study, was a 4-H advisor, did county-level 4-H activities, helped with youth ministry at church, and found time to sleep somewhere in there.

Then I got married, and as I was getting ready to jet on over to one of the many evening commitments I had, Bob looked at me and commented, “You know, we’ll never have a family if we never spend any time together.” That really set me thinking about my focus in life, and about what I’m supposed to be doing right now.

I still struggle with wanting to do too much, and then finding myself so worn out from all that I try to do that I don’t want to do anything anymore. I’m trying to find the balance of extracurricular and home life.

Sometime, and especially as we have more children and as Bob begins to take more classes, my extracurriculars will have to nearly disappear. At one point, that really bothered me. I thought that those outside things defined who I am.

But I’ve come to understand that the most important work I do is the work God calls me to do…and to know what that is, I have to be listening.

1. Sunday night: figured out that the kid who was maybe-sick was really-sick. Canceled Monday plans.

2. Monday morning: took six-year-old to sick bay because we suspected strep, ran to pharmacy to get the antibiotics because, though her throat was very streppy-looking, the quick test came back negative. Despite her being sick, still finished manuscript as I had planned (though it took a far different commitment of time than what I had planned).

3. Tuesday: kept fevered child home from school, noted that three-year-old was acting symptomatic. Finished parish bulletin draft, submitted manuscript to publisher, drank a lot of tea, kept a remnant of sanity and laughed more than I expected to.

4. Tuesday night: three-year-old up multiple times for potty breaks; baby up multiple times for company and eating and coughing.

5. Wednesday, sometime before 6 AM: “Mommy, I want to get up now.” (How can the three-year-old be awake? Can’t she time it with the baby?) I invite her to my bed, because it seemed like a good idea at the time. Six-year-old, ever suspicious of anyone else being awake when she is not, comes in and asks if we can go downstairs. “No! Lay down on Daddy’s side!” (This is a treat. I am territorial about my bed. I don’t judge those of you who share your beds with your kids; I just don’t. Sleep is not optional in my house: sharing my bed usually means I don’t get sleep. And this time, that’s exactly what happened.)

6. Wednesday, 6:15 AM: Baby does his little “I’m going to wake up now” cough. I begin extracting myself from bed. Girls jump up. Coughing begins all around me. I wonder if I should strip beds or just call it good.

7. No, I’m not going to give you the play-by-play of the rest of the week. I just want to point out that at 6:20 AM on Wednesday, I had no idea that by noon, I’d be thanking God for the day. I had no idea that at 12:52 PM, I’d be in my van, saying an out-loud thank you prayer to God. I had a chance to run errands that, while not critical, did allow me to get out of the house (without the kids!). And then, later in the day, I had niece visitors who amused the girls, rocked the baby, and allowed me some laptop time. God may not micromanage, but he has a plan. And it’s WAY better than mine.

You’ll find other lists of seven (in the form of Quick Takes) over at Conversion Diary today.

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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.

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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.

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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).

I mentioned last week that I’m having an online Tupperware party to benefit Catholic mom Jen Minson, and I alluded to my all-time favorite Tupperware product, what we call “straw cups.” In this week’s Quick Takes, I thought I’d share my favorite Tupperware products. Whether you’re able to order before my party closes next Friday or if it will be a while, these are the Tupperware gems I’ve discovered (mostly since having children).

Straw Cups (Impressions Tumblers with Drip-Less Lids)

These aren’t cheap, I know. And somehow, they tend to evaporate (perhaps because I’m in the habit of using them SO MUCH) and disappear around our house. I don’t hold that against them. They’re the right size (12 oz.) and the lids really are drip-less, which helps keep the mess level lower. My two-year-old especially seemed to outgrow sippy cups way sooner than I was ready to let her run around with a non-lidded cups, and these straw cups were the perfect solution. We’ve taken them on trips, too, and they travel well. They’re high on my “gifts for new moms” list too: they are one of the handy-dandy things I never would have thought of if I didn’t have a friend with a bunch of kids who totally sold me on them by showing me them in use every time we were there.

Canister Set

I never really wanted canisters until I saw how my sister-in-law used these. For one thing, I lack counter space. For another, I didn’t see the point: my stuff was fine in the containers I had and there was no need to coordinate.

And then we had an incident that inspired me to reorganize and seal-proof everything in my kitchen. It was around this time that I found myself at my sister-in-law’s for a few weeks, and I saw how she kept these canisters in her cupboard. They’re air-tight, and they have a little peekaboo window that lets you know, at a glance, when it’s time to get worried about the sugar or flour or corn meal or pasta or whatever. They would look fine on a counter, but I keep mine tucked away just like she did. And I love them.

Ice Cream Scoop

This was one of the first products I purchased, perhaps before I was even married. We use it at least once a day and I still love it. My only gripe is that it’s gotten pitted over the years…I didn’t realize that you’re supposed to rinse/wash and wipe it right away, not let it air dry or sit in water. There is no ice cream, no matter how rock hard, that this scoop can’t dig through, even with my wimpy lack of strength.

Grape Containers (Fridge Smart Series)

I think that, when I first contacted Jen a few years ago when I found her through another website, I was looking for a good container to keep grapes in my fridge. I use my big Fridge Smart container primarily for grapes, but the little air holes on the side can adjust and then you can use them for husked corn-on-the-cob, apples, tomatoes, and pretty much anything else that’s a fruit or vegetable. There are ridges on the bottom that help keep the fruits/veggies from sitting in liquid, and I’ve been really happy with mine. I’d call this a great newlywed gift as well.

The Best Ever “Nuke It” Bowl (Soup Mug)

A friend, years ago, didn’t know what to get me for Christmas, so she gave me one of these. It spent years going back and forth in my lunch bags when I was working in offices, and now I use it for my kids. The handle on the side makes it great for little ones. The lid with the pop-top makes it great for reheating (you keep the lid on, pop that little doo-hickey, and no boiling over!). The size makes it great for lunches or snacks or any number of other things. I don’t know what inspired that friend to think of this, and I don’t know if I’ve ever told her that I am thankful for her every single time I use it (which is multiple times a week).

Snack Cups

My addiction to snack cups started after I placed that order for my grape container. Jen, ever a thoughtful Tupperware consultant, sent me some snack cups as a free gift. I had a toddler at the time, and all of a sudden, I had the PERFECT container for, well, ALMOST EVERYTHING! Like the straw cups, we use these little bad boys so much that I replace them (or place orders to score free ones) on what feels like a too-regular basis. Unlike the similarly sized containers sold in the grocery stores, these are heavy duty and stand up to tough wear and tear (the sort you get when you have Jack Russells in and about). They also come clean, which might seem like a silly thing to note, but I’ve used these to stash the last of the spaghetti sauce (the amount that’s only enough for the toddler’s lunch the next day) or a bit of salad dressing or some dip for fruit…and I’m able to get the vestiges of all those things OUT, even though I have no fancy-schmancy dishwasher.

The “Proof’s in the Cupboard” Organizing Stuff (Modular Mates)

It’s my sister-in-law’s fault, again, that I have a purchasing plan for getting enough of these Modular Mates for my kitchen/pantry cupboards. She lived in New Orleans for seven years, and she learned, the hard way, that keeping any dry goods in anything non-airtight was a recipe for throwing it away and buying new. Oh, and then there are the bugs. (She never mentioned bugs. I just sort of…guessed.) We don’t have the same problems in Ohio, at least not in the same quantity, but she also did something else that appealed to the Organized Psycho who is a large part of who I am: she used a label maker and marked each container. They sit and stack so WELL in the cupboards that you could just open her cupboard and find what you wanted!

They are also CLEAR. You can tell the state of the items inside with a glance (and if you don’t have a sister-in-law with a label maker that you can borrow, you can probably skip that step). So these are one of the things I’m purchasing this time around.

Sippy Cup Set

You know what I love MOST about these sippy cups? (I don’t have them yet, by the way. But I’m going to need new sippy cups for this baby, and I have my heart set on these.) I love that the lids fit on other Tupperware cups. Last year, when my five-year-old was starting to want to drink without a lid (even if it was a straw cup lid), I realized I needed plastic cups. My husband and I prefer to drink out of glasses — real glass — but with little kids, that’s just not always advisable. We did not, however, have any plastic cups, and there was some sort of sale or special and I ordered some from Tupperware. I realized, again at that Tupperware-loving sister-in-law’s house, that the sippy cup lids fit on a lot of the other plastic cups. I LOVE THAT! Consider me sold!

With that, I point you to Jen at Conversion Diary, where you’ll find plenty of other Quick Takes. And if you want to get in on my Tupperware party (free products I get will make great giveaways here and/or at CatholicMom.com in the coming months), place your order by Friday, September 24.

This week, our life was inexorably altered when our dog Petie, who I’ve been calling the Jack Russell Terror in this space for years, died unexpectedly. In honor of the years we’ve spent together, and because it makes for good material, I am dedicating today’s 7 Quick Takes to dog tales…about him.

~1~

Terror…not Terrier

My relationship with Petie was, at best, love-hateHateHATE. I didn’t cry when I saw that he was surely going to die. (I did shed some tears later in the evening, though, because, truth be told, I do miss him). There’s a reason that there are so many Jack Russell pups in rescues…these dogs DO. NOT. STOP.

He spent years as an inside dog. When we finally moved him outside, my life improved immeasurably. In fact, any love I had for him grew exponentially in the last two years that he  spent as an outside dog.

So, to those who wondered on Twitter if I was misspelling, no. He was (and remains in our memory) a Jack Russell Terror.

(He chewed that sweater. He was ALWAYS cold in the winter, and would lay in front of the wood stove until his skin turned pink, but would NOT let us “dress” him.)

~2~

Curiosity Killed the Coon (written December 2005)

In thirty years, if we are still living in this old farmhouse on our beautiful patch of property, I have an image of myself. My back will be stooped over from carrying babies and firewood and trying to only make one trip instead of the wiser two.  My hearing will be worse than it is, and so I will have to blast music even louder than I do, and dear Bob will have to be even more patient when I can’t hear him the third time he repeats himself.  I’ll be able to stomach all kinds of horrid you-live-in-the-country-if things, and I hope that I will also be able to cook better than I do now (hey, thirty years is a long time, so there’s hope!).  I’ll use words like “ain’t” and “rassle” without any thought of correctness, because I will have been in the country so long that it just won’t matter.  I also know that in thirty years, I will not be banished to wait by the wheelbarrow while a certain unnamed dog attacks a coon (or was it a cat?) in the underbrush.

Last night when we were making our daily trip out to fill the wheelbarrow with firewood, we stopped in the tin shed (which is sort of like a garage, but made of tin) to put out food for the cat.  Suddenly, there was a baying and a growling and a scuttling of small creatures behind the building. Bob, ever the unimpressed farmer type, shrugged it off as “Petie getting into something again.”  And then the cacophony changed to a higher, more urgent pitch, Bob grabbed the flashlight, and we went out to make it a spectator sport.

The snow was falling in lazy clumps, and the air was cold enough to make it hurt with every breath.  Even so, standing there behind Bob, peering into the dark mess of underbrush and wondering if my legs were safe from the dog and the thing he was harassing, I didn’t notice any of that.  Nope, what I was wondering was whether this would be a Shotgun Incident.

Petie tends to find the little critters in the area (it is, after all, what Jack Russells are bred to do), and to get into a good bloody mess as he corners them and attempts to kill them. Sometimes they get away from him enough to get only injured, and Bob will have to get the shotgun (or sometimes a large heavy object – that was last week with the possum) and do the humane thing and kill them.  Petie will not leave an injured critter alone until it is dead.  He has no compunction about his quarry’s size in relation to his 13 pounds of muscle and willpower.  (Does this make him courageous or stupid?)

Suddenly, in the midst of the scuffles and the growls, there was silence.  Bob had still not been successful at locating them with the flashlight, and in the silence, I looked over at his stoic unimpressed countenance, and asked, “Is this silence normal?” to which he replied, without batting an eye, “Nope.”

Then I asked the question that had been nagging me: “Am I safe standing here?” It turns out that I was right in the path that the critter would probably take if it got out from its corner of safety and made a run for it.  I repositioned myself, and Bob looked up long enough to say, “If I was you, I’d go up by the wheelbarrow.”

Considering that the last thing I wanted was a riled-up critter rushing my way – insert scene from “Christmas Vacation” where the door opens and the squirrel and the dog tear up the neighbor lady – I slouched over to the wheelbarrow where I really couldn’t see what was going on.

After the silence, the two duked it out some more and it got pretty loud.  Finally, the coon (or was it a cat?) made a dash off toward the west side of our property, with Petie in hot pursuit.  It was at this point that Bob began to question whether it was a cat instead of a coon.

Petie didn’t get the coon/cat last night, but he was a happy pup all the same. Nothing gets his juices running like a good rassle and a chase through the cold night with a cheering section calling his name (to the effect of “PETIE!  Get back here RIGHT NOW!”).  Although he had to deal with a bath, he also had his Hero (Bob) call him Good Dog at least four times

~3~

Cute…but Maddening

We happened upon Petie because the family that owned Petie had to get rid of him (an allergic daughter). They knew my mother-in-law was looking for a smaller dog and they called her. She couldn’t resist him and brought him home. My husband, seeing his mother apparently happy wasn’t going to say no either.

He was about five pounds then and cute as could be. That honeymoon period lasted a while. Maybe even as long as 48 hours.

And then the strong will started shining through. My husband, who has always been a natural Pack Leader, met this head-on. For almost ten years. He became Petie’s hero, and when Bob walked through the door at night, Petie

We ended up with Petie when my mother-in-law moved into an apartment and then he just sort of stayed. We joked for years and teased my mother-in-law that she could have her dog back anytime.

~4~

Inventive…with Anything Round

Oh, how he loved to chase a ball…

…or squash (the pumpkins never made it that year, either…he got them ALL)…

…or a shot put…

…or full-sized basketballs…

…or tires (which is what did him in, in the end). He was fast, which was great when he was attacking a rat or a coon or a groundhog or a cat. (Not so great if I was trying to get my kid’s ball back.)

When he was in the house, he used to hide under a buffet and poke his ball out. You were supposed to send it back to him. If you didn’t, he growled at an increasingly higher pitch until he was barking.

Lacking any other amusement, he would hide his toys all over the house, even…

…in the dryer!

~5~

Mr. Protective

Petie claimed us. He also claimed our kids and the people who were “with” us (friends and family who visited, etc.). Though I read that Jacks (or any terriers, for the most part) aren’t recommended for kids, we had a great experience with him, at least in his younger days. (The kids didn’t climb on him or tackle him as much once he became an outside dog.

The day we brought our oldest daughter home from the hospital, my mother-in-law came over. Petie growled at her — a serious, “I will bite you if you take one step closer” growl — when she leaned over to look in the crib.

He also used to curl up on the couch with us, especially with my husband. He didn’t take kindly to anyone waking up the person he was with, especially if it was Bob. He was spanked MANY times for growling at me when I would shake Bob awake at night for bed.

~6~

Life without Petie (written March, 2006)

I have a love-hate relationship with my Jack Russell. On the one hand, he’s the doggie equivalent of my energy, joyfully intelligent, and quite humorous as a source of stories.  On the other, he is insistent, annoying, and never-ending, and often highly annoying (like when he does random bark-screams in the middle of the night).  Lately it seems the pendulum has been hitting the hate end of the relationship more, but then we had a Scary Incident.

I was home alone and the baby was tucked away, snoozing peacefully upstairs.  I was either reading or online (or maybe both), when I saw a white blur streak across the room.  Looking up, I saw Petie run into something.  Now, if his ball had been on the other side of the said object, this would not have been unusual.  However, it was random wheels-not-working movement, and it was weird.  He was whimpering and obviously not happy.  Luckily, Bob came home right about then and I let Petie out, right before discovering some unintentional destruction.

I spent some time pondering what my life would be like without Petie, something that we joke about all the time but which I haven’t really considered in depth at all.  Who would entertain the baby in the mornings?  Who would clean up the kitchen floor after her meals?  Who would alert me to raccoons in the front yard?  Who would hide balls in my laundry hampers and then pull towels through the tiny holes in an attempt to retrieve them?  Who would steal all my blankets at night?  Who would greet Elizabeth in the mornings?  Who would keep me company on Bob’s school nights?  Who would greet me with unadulterated joy whenever I came home, even if I had only been gone for two minutes?  Who would have as much energy as me in the morning?  Who would shed white hair into every single possible imaginable place in our belongings?  Who would scare off the spiders?  Who would fight me for the couch?  Who would play fetch with me?  (no wait, I think I meant…who would play fetch with Elizabeth?)

We weren’t sure what was wrong, and still aren’t.  He seems fine now; back to the full swing of obstinate outdoor exploration while I’m still in my pajamas and calling for him to come in, barking at the slightest provocation to his Dad’s-not-home domain, and curling up in the crook of my legs when I go to bed early.

~7~

Posts from the Past

If you want to read past blog posts inspired by our late JRT, here you go:

• Jack Russell Terror (which is actually one of my favorite posts of all time, whether or not anyone else likes it)
• What’s that gnawing in my closet?
• Playing God
• Life on the Outside

Jen has all the Quick Takes at her place, which is worth stopping by and staying for a while. Visit her and maybe even participate with your own Quick Takes post!