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Friday, June 30, 2017

Catholic Fail

Last Friday, I hauled myself and all the children downtown to an ordination at the Cathedral. One of the ordinands had been assigned as a temporary deacon at our parish last summer so I thought it would be a good experience for the children. I have zero pictures of this event.

After the (very long) Mass, I gathered my crew into the social hall for the reception with food. Trying to feed four children and myself, all by myself, in a crowded room with long lines for food after they have spent the better part of three hours at Mass was an adventure all unto itself. And lo, we all survived.

After not too long, the newly ordained priests emerged and two stations were set up for them to offer their first blessings. The lines got long very quickly. Seeing as I had never had a first blessing before, even though I have been to several ordinations, I decided to take my place in line, in spite of the fact that Marian was lapping the reception room.

At last I make it to the front of the line.

The new Father then asks me, "Who's your patron saint?"

Me, "Um?"

Father, "Well then who was your confirmation saint?"

Me, "So, when I was confirmed, they discouraged us from taking saint names sooooo."

Father, "So which saint do you have a particular devotion to?"

Me, blankly, "Weeeellll?"

Assistant Guy, gamely holding the blessing book watching this little debacle unfold, "How about St. Gerard, the patron of expectant mothers?"

Me, with my giant belly that regularly wins me inquiries about twins, "That sounds like a good idea because I am definitely there."

Father, "St Gerard, it is."

"May, through the imposition of my priestly hands...."

Then I kissed his hands. I've never done that before either.



Sunday, June 25, 2017

The Gospel According to Lice

Today's Gospel was particularly apt for this week of dealing with lice.

Even all the hairs on your head are counted.
                                             Matthew 10:30
Yes, children, this is true. And I have seen every one of those hairs this week.




Wednesday, June 21, 2017

The Scourge

It has come to pass that once again the lice have come to visit our house while I am pregnant. Is this a rule? Lice while pregnant?

I did not anticipate spending my day, indulging my primate instincts, picking nit after nit out of my offsprings' hairs. The problem with lice during pregnancy is that I am not comfortable dousing myself or others in neurotoxin to kill the noxious bugs. Therefore my husband has to do the heavy lifting of washing all the children's hair in gross chemical while I pick, pick, comb, pick. And did mention the laundry?

We have yet to determine if I also have the scourge. I hope not. Since I am avoiding the neurotoxin, my lice removal protocol borders on ridiculous. Lots of oil and vinegar and plastic and time.

One bright side is that Marian relishes saying the word lice. Lice. LLLLLLice. She sticks her tongue out between her teeth. LLLLLLLLLice with a long L. She also explained we needed to put the lice eggs back in her hair so the babies would survive. Apparently there has been too much Wild Kratts around here. 

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Whence Competence?

Checking in here again. My writing muscle is quite flabby. Now that summer has arrived, hopefully I will be able to engage in the blog habit a little more regularly.

These last few months have been an exercise in endurance. Even now, we are still trying to wrap up the end of the school year and finish the never-ending math book. School was cut to the very basics and still we struggled to finish. Now summer obligations cut into our days and make the stray ends harder to gather together. Perhaps by the end of this upcoming week I can officially call the school year over.

The pregnancy is proceeding apace with everything looking healthy and normal. We are once again expecting another girl. The symmetry of two girls, a boy, and two more girls is pleasing. Sam is going to be well-prepared for adulthood. Heh.

Even though everything pregnancy-wise seems healthy, my own perseverance has not been very valiant. Although I embraced all the meds this time, the nausea just kept hanging on. I am still taking something every night before bed because my schedule has been such that finding out I am still nauseous in the morning would not be amenable. Not the most terrible, but not great either. Maybe after school is put away, I'll try to wean off the nausea med again. Again, again. Heartburn is a daily part of my life. Constant choking burning heartburn. My ability to ignore these feelings and carry on is not my strong point. I have been sleeping 10-11 hours a night, plus plenty of rest throughout the day. Mild anemia is doing its work, taking my energy and raising my heart rate.The second trimester energy boost never quite arrived and now the third trimester promises to be more (or less) of the same.

As a result, the household is running on fumes and threads. I haven't cooked in months. The housekeeping is sad. The children have been cleaning the kitchen, but it's about as clean as you'd expect when children clean a kitchen. And the whole household project left over from last year's disastrous summer still looms over my head.

I have been home from work for close to two years. I wonder when I will feel competent in any of this. It seems like as soon as I begin to feel like I am gaining control over any particular situation, the stool gets kicked out from under me and I have to begin again. I do not feel quite as unmoored as I did in the beginning, but it definitely feels like a three steps forward, two steps back situation. I feel like if I could just...fill in the blank...and then everything would work itself out. This probably isn't reality. It works itself out, one way or the other, no matter my competence or energy.

I know that other people have moved and cooked and been pregnant and had babies and done all the things I have been doing and probably felt like they muddled through just like I do. It's possible to do these things. I just wonder when it starts feeling doable instead of impossible.