My Buddy

Stephen is my absolute middle child. Number 3 of 5 children, he is also at what I consider to be one of the most difficult ages of toddlerhood (4). He is strong-willed and determined, which are in and of themselves wonderful attributes to have. However, for a four-year-old who just will not be quiet at mass because he is so intent on asking you (not in his church voice, either) why those lights are up there on the ceiling, and just will not take "I don't know", "because Fr. Mike put them there", "to light up the church", or any other variation for an answer, it can be quite trying.

I was sick yesterday with a bad cold. When we walked into mass, the kids started to be quite themselves for their ages, and I prayed, "Lord, please give me the strength to be loving with them today, and not to snap at them if they misbehave." I was so very impressed with the good behavior that resulted from all of the kids, but most especially from Stephen. The Friday before we had been at a holy hour, and I timed him out at least ten times (yes, you can time your children out during adoration, haha!). We were the loudest family there, and I was at the end of my rope.

Most of our stuggle comes with just getting him to sit still and not roll around everywhere (which, at four years old, is something he should be capable of, at least for a few minutes at a time). With my older boys, if they are fidgeting or not standing when they are supposed to, I discovered that if I hold out my hand to them, they will reach up for me. Then, simply by holding their hand they will stand up. I'm not sure why, but it's so much better than disciplining them, because they choose it for themselves. And it becomes something to affirm them, not to correct them.

So I put my hand out for Stephen (who was laying on his back on the pew), but he wasn't having it. He rolled around completely ignoring me. I always try to get them to look into my eyes before I say something to them, but he wouldn't even look at me. I could feel my blood starting to boil, and suppressed the urge deep within me to just yank him up out of his seat and say, "YOU STAND NOW BECAUSE I SAID SO AND DO NOT IGNORE ME!!!" Instead, I remembered that he is my buddy.

Earlier in the summer, I began using the buddy system with my kids. If we are going out somewhere, I pair the older ones with a little one to help them get ready, and hold each other's hands while we're out (I had seen it on 19 Kids and Counting). They all responded really well to it, but Stephen did in particular. I noticed that when he played with his older brothers, he started calling them his buddies, and it really meant something special to him. He made up this saying, "buddies always stay together." It has been great, because as the third boy (and with the next child being a girl), I notice that often he get left out of what the older kids are doing, and that he didn't seem to have the same bond as the older boys did. This new concept of a buddy gave him something special to attach to them, and deepened his feelings for them (and they for him). I could get the older boys to do anything for him if I reminded them that he was their buddy. It was beautiful!

So there in the church, faced with the iron will of my four-year-old, and praying for the strength not to just loose it on him right there, my hand still outstretched I said, "hey buddy?" He turned and looked at me with his sweet little smile, took my hand, and stood up straight and still beside me. For the rest of mass, anytime he started to get out of hand I would do the same thing, and my buddy was happy to pay attention and stand beside me.

I watched a documentary about elephants recently. In elephant families everyone follows a matriarch, and the bond with her is so strong that the elephants will turn away even from hunger if she calls to them. I realized at mass that the same can be true for the kids, that if I call on the strength of my bond with Stephen, instead of being stern, he will respond with his affection for me. Don't get me wrong, I know there are times when strict discipline is required. But far too often I think I go to that first, out of desparation. And yesterday, feeling completely empty and drained of myself, I cried out to God and He gave me the grace to see that there is another way, a better way.

Thank you Lord, for showing me that without you I don't have what it takes - but that with you, and in You, I have everything I need to treat my children with the love and respect they so deserve.

The Best Job in the World

When I was growing up, I always loved kids. My cousin and I used to fight for the attention of our many younger cousins. At family gatherings we were willing babysitters to exhausted parents who wanted a break, and I loved every minute of it. I always used to say that if working in day care paid better, that would have been my career.

Funny though, I've tried the babysitting thing. And it's not enough to love kids, I don't think. There is a special kind of person who is called to do that for a living, and my children have been blessed to be cared for by a couple of them. But it's not me. What I have discovered though, is that my ideal job does indeed involve being around kids all day, but that the pay is even much less than that of a daycare worker. It is, of course, a mother.

I was out with my kids earlier today, and I realized how much I really, truly enjoy spending time with them. I always have, but now I don't feel as though a million other things are dividing my attention. On previous maternity leaves I have had the luxury of a part-time sitter, where I could drop the kids off if I had errands to run, or just wanted a day to myself once a week. That, however, would now cost me upwards of $50 just to drop the kids off for one day, and I have a hard time justifying that. The result? Now Jeff does most of the errand running, and whenever I go in town I bring everyone - which means we do something fun together (I'm not one to waste a trip).

People always say they don't know how I do it, and I know they never quite believe me when I say that having more children makes a lot of things easier. I found it way more difficult to get around with three babies than I do with my five children, because the two older boys are older and much more capable of helping me round the little ones up. And I've had seven years of getting around to figure out the best (and most efficient) way to do it. And I'm learning not to put too much pressure on myself - if I make it anywhere at all, it's an accomplishment. I don't stress about being late when I'm on my own with the kiddies.

You would think that having more kids would make you busier, but for me it's the opposite. It is crystal clear the things I cannot do anymore, so I just don't do them. Instead, I get to spend my days enjoying this journey with the best companions a girl could ask for. And that is the best job in the world!

Catholic Guilt

These days, I am feeling strongly convicted that I need to be more kind to my children. My three oldest boys share a bedroom. For the past several months bedtime has been tricky, as the youngest of the three Stephen has a difficult time settling down, keeping the older ones (and in fact, the entire household) awake. Our solution has been to sit outside their room after they go to bed, and speak swiftly and sternly at the first sign (or rather, sound) of disruption. It has been working pretty well.

Last night when the boys went to bed, Timothy was upset. I tried my best to comfort him, but (as is common with Timothy) there was nothing I could say to calm him down, and so I ended up having to leave the bedroom while he was still crying. Not long after I left, I heard the slow creak of the door opening. Thinking it to be the cat, I jumped up and started shushing at the door. Only then did I discover that it was Stephen, up out of bed. I reacted with a harsh, "you get back to bed!" It was only when I was tucking him back in that he said, "but Timothy's still crying." I looked at his little face, and my heart broke. He was pouting, and he was really upset. He was concerned for his brother, and I thought he was just being defiant (and treated him that way). I felt like mean Miss Hannigan in "Annie".

People often speak about Catholic guilt, but I think those people must not truly understand the heart of God, and His intentions in providing guidance through the teachings of the Church. It is precisely the teachings of the Church that bring me comfort in times like this. God wants me to be patient with the kids not because He wants me to feel bad about times like this, but because He knows that I will not be happy if I am constantly giving in to my emotions. He knows that by learning to control my impulses, I will see the bigger picture, and that in being loving in all situations, I will be happier myself, and make my children happier as well. And when I do fall short, as I so often do, it is the teachings of my faith that help me to know I am not stuck there, and that I am not an awful person. We all sin and fall short of the glory of God, but forgiveness is just a breath away (the breath it takes to form the words to ask for it), and once received, brings us to a place where we have a fresh start.

Today is my fresh start, this very moment. And I am so grateful for the faith that brings that to me. In the Catholic Church I find not teachings that guilt and shame me, but guidance that helps me grow more into the person God wants me to be. A person who is happy, a person who is free, and above all, a person who loves God and His people (especially those entrusted to my care) above everything else.

Culture of Life

I think most often, people think that being open to life is the job of parents. As Catholics, we vow to accept children lovingly from God, and it is a vow Jeff and I take very seriously. We know that each little one we bring into this world helps us to become more of the person God intended us to be. But we also know that the buck doesn't stop with us. Because being open to life is an attitude not just for the parents, but for the entire community surrounding the family. And it doesn't stop once the baby is born, it continues for the rest of their lives.

We are so incredibly blessed to have two sets of parents who bend over backwards to help with our children. If too much time goes by without us calling them, they are calling us saying, "Can we come see the kids? We miss them!" They are always willing and ready to watch some or all of the kids if we need to run an errand, or just take a break. We are so fortunate, because not everyone has this. If it wasn't for their openess to life, our children wouldn't have half the life they have now. And we would find it much more difficult to be good parents without their love and support. Whenever anyone tells us what good parents we are, I say that we couldn't be good parents if our parents weren't first good to us.

Not only do we have awesome parents, but we also have a great network of family and friends who love and support us in our journey as parents. Whenever we have friends over, they are all eager playmates for our children. And when we bring our kids on outings, we find in them extra hands to help look after the kids. When we show up at friends' houses, they are happy to have us all over, even when they know it will mean their place could quite possibly be turned upside-down! They don't shy away from including us because we have children, and never act as though they are a burden. Some of our childrens' best friends are in fact our friends, and it makes me so happy that for Jeff and I, having a good time with friends can include our children as well. We are building happy memories as a family that I know will benefit our kids for years to come.

So my challenge to everyone reading this today is this - whatever your stage in life, whether you have children or not, make it your mission to be open to life by supporting young families. Jeff and I are infinitely grateful for the support we receive on a daily basis. We could not do this without you!

The Road to Sanity

I was at the doctor's office yesterday with all the kids in tow, for vaccinations for my baby. While it wasn't always so, after the last few babies I can count on my doctor, once the little one is a couple of months old, to say, "so, when are we doing this again?" Not going back to work gives me a real freedom when it comes to planning our next baby, so I shared that while I didn't know just yet, Jeff and I are both noticing how fast Aaron is growing up, and that we both miss having a newborn in the house. She just smiled and said, "I don't know how you do it - I mean, and keep your sanity!" I laughed, and said, "sometimes I don't!"

As I left the doctor's office, I realized that the moments when I feel like I'm losing my sanity have little to do with the kids. More than that, I truly believe my children are what ground me, and keep me from going completely crazy much sooner than I do. They are there, every day, and I can always count on them to guide me and provide purpose in my life. I don't wake up in the morning wondering, "what am I going to do today?", or laze around while life just passes me by. As soon as my feet hit the floor I am smack in the middle of life - all I have to do is go with it!

One of the things that was brought into the world through original sin was that we would have to work for the things that matter most to us. I often wish I could take a vacation with Jeff and the kids, and just relax and have nothing to do but enjoy life. And I think this is good - because this is what we were made for; and in fact, will live one day. But it is not possible on this earth. And while vacations give us much-needed moments of relaxation and getting away from it all, the reality as we all know is that there is a price to pay for vacation. We come home groggy from our trip to do laundry, clean house, and work double-hard to get back into the routine of every day life. It's in doing the duties of every day life with joy that we find our true happiness in this life, our eyes set on the eternal vacation and rest that awaits us in the next.

I think that's why I'm much happier with five children than I was with two. Because with two children, I was still clinging to that desire for "a break". And if I tried hard enough, I could get it. That lead to a false sense of control, and consequently disappointment when the responsibilities of life came knocking all too soon. But with five children, your idea of a break changes. It's no longer dropping the kids off at the sitter's to have a day to yourself, but rather taking just two or three of them with you to the grocery store, and stopping for ice cream on the way home. It's no longer watching TV while the kids nap, but painting with your older kids while your babies nap. It's in the work that I find my true fulfillment - having more children helps me to keep my sanity far better than I ever did with less!

Not that I'm perfect. Someday, when my kids are old enough to read my notes, they'll tell you otherwise. But I do feel like I know more than I did when I first started having children. And I know there is still so very much more for me to learn. Here's to family, babies, and journeying down the road that leads me ever closer to sanity!

Love like this

Today, as most days, I fumbled about getting supper ready with a thirty-pound toddler on my hip. My one and only girl...my little Katie.

She is the fourth of our five children, and is vastly different than the boys. She is so much more clingy, even than the baby. She would spend the whole day on my hip if I would let her. It can be quite frustrating at times, particularly when she is tired and I'm trying to put her down. I'm sure most parents can relate to the feeling of just wanting to finish something that they've started, and that's how I often feel. I could do this so much faster if I could just put you down for two minutes - and then you'd have me all to yourself. But alas, this is not what she wants. She's more content to have half of my attention most of the time, than to have none of it for a bit, and all of it later.

Yesterday she wasn't feeling good, and was particularly clingy to me. And it hit me, she really, really loves me a lot. She clings to me because she wants to be with me all the time - she's happiest when she's with me. That's such an incredible thing! Lots of people love me a lot, but very few are so honest with it. With kids, there is just love. And sometimes, that's hard. Because love so innocent and pure demands something in return. And that something is you - now. It's my own imperfections that cause me to become frustrated, my own distractions that cause me to turn elsewhere. But when I look at her, it's so clear. She's not demanding, she's not trying to keep me from doing anything, she's not looking to drive me crazy! She's just loving me, and calling me to love her back.

This is the way God loves us. Asking nothing in return but the gift of ourselves. And with God, as with the kids, I often feel frustrated. If I could just finish what I'm doing Lord, then I'll spend time with you. And just like my little Katie, what God really wants is to be part of my whole day, not just something tacked on at the end, if I have time. Parenthood teaches me so much about life, and particularly why children are so special to God - because they really do get it so much better than we do.

I don't know what I did to deserve such a perfect love. But I pray to always see the good, to see with the eyes of faith what my own eyes, so full of distraction, too often miss.

A Kids' House

I remember having a conversation with a coworker when I was expecting my fourth child. It was about the clutter you accumulate in your house when you have kids. In particular the living room, and how despite my best efforts to make it a grown up space, it always ends up with toys along every square inch of the perimeter (if I'm lucky, and they haven't been strewn across the entire room). He talked about visiting friends and seeing all the toys their kids had out in the main living areas, and how ridiculous that was. And at the time I desperately wished for a space of my own in all this craziness. A place where we could entertain friends that was sophisticated, modern, and free of toys.

And now, I'm home full time. Not only that, but I have two extra children, and I'm homeschooling. So in addition to the extra little ones and all their toys, I also have school desks in my dining room and work pinned up all around the upstairs of my house. Not only does the living room look like a play room, but the dining room looks like a classroom. But you know what? I don't mind it so much anymore. In fact, I really love it. Because the fact is that kids do live here - they are part of this family, and this is their space too. I do have my own space - it's called a bedroom, but the rest of the house is meant to be shared by a family, not just me. And people who come into my home should realize that. I am happy when I look around my house that signs of the life contained within are everywhere to be found.

When I see all of their stuff, it reminds me how fun it is to have them around, and to enjoy them being so little. Because like it or not, some day they are going to grow up. And I know I'm really going to miss these days. So I figure I may as well make the most of it, and celebrate their young lives while I am in the midst of it. It will be a sad day when there are no toys in my living room. But if I'm anything like my mother, I'll get to do it all over again when I have my own grandchildren - and maybe with even more stuff!