debbie downer and dumb blonde jokes

is this what i have resorted to in order to keep an audience?

sharing dumb blonde jokes that my mom sent me in an email this morning.

i felt so like debbie downer this week that i decided to avoid the keyboard at all costs.

rising early to get 3 kids to  2 locations at opposite ends of the same street for state mandated testing can do that to any homeschooling mom. who is used to sleeping in.

ok. so here goes. but don’t get offended. one of my bestest friends is a blonde. my favorite sister-in-law is a blonde. (is that what your color is called, nora?)

Two blondes were going to Disneyland .  They were driving on the Interstate when they saw the sign that said Disneyland LEFT.  They started crying and turned around and went home.

A highway patrolman pulled alongside a speeding car on the freeway. Glancing at the car, he was astounded to see that the blonde behind the wheel was knitting!
Realizing that she was oblivious to his flashing lights and siren, the trooper cranked down his window, turned on his bullhorn and yelled, ‘PULL OVER!’ 
‘NO!’ the blonde yelled back, ‘IT’S A SCARF!’

A Russian, an American, and a Blonde were talking one day.
The Russian said, ‘We were the first in space!’ 
The American said, ‘We were the first on the moon!’ 
The Blonde said, ‘So what? We’re going to be the first on the sun!’  The Russian and the American looked at each other and shook their heads.
‘You can’t land on the sun, you idiot! You’ll burn up!’ said the Russian. 
To which the Blonde replied, ‘We’re not stupid, you know. We’re going at night!’

A girl was visiting her blonde friend, who had acquired two new dogs, and asked her what their names were. The blonde responded by saying that one was named Rolex and one was named Timex. Her friend said, ‘Whoever heard of someone naming dogs like that?’  ‘HELLLOOOOOOO……,’ answered the blonde. ‘They’re watch dogs’!

and just fyi: i was blonde at one time in my life. until my son innocently told me: ” you know, if you were a different person and had a different face, that hair would look really good on you.” granted he was 5 at the time. but it really hurt.

have a great weekend friends. it is that time of year again where my kiddos head off to this place with their papa, my dad, who thanks be to God was well enough to take them.

and i, will touch fabric. doesn’t that sound ridiculous? the only fabric i’ve been touching these days is laundry and dishtowels. but i can’t wait to get my hands on 16 yards of soft. light blue denim. i am making slipcovers for the couches in the family room.

wish me luck.

and a restoration of sanity.

and i wish you all the same.

dirty laundry

i hope someday my kids won’t hate me for airing their dirty laundry here. i really try to respect their privacy and only put into print what i think might be of help to someone.

unfortunately dirty laundry is real. raw. and smelly. but underneath it all it can be something very beautiful. if the focus remains on glorifying GOD. keeping the faith.  fighting the good fight to raise saints. and even fighting to become saints ourselves.

i can’t help but wonder what st. monica would’ve written about little augustine….

in all fairness i have to say that when asked. my big sonny boy said he felt stupid after the smoking incident. and he didn’t like feeling stupid. now whether he just told me what i wanted to hear. only time will tell.

trying to keep my sense of humor i mentioned that he seriously needed to be careful about further damaging brain cells that don’t work all that well yet anyway…

food for thought:

“…i found myself most consciously and tangibly in the presence of God. i saw my life to date laid out before me, seeing it as though i were reviewing it in the presence of God after death. i saw everything i would regret. i also knew, from one instant to the next, that the meaning and purpose of my life was to love and serve my Lord and my God; i saw how His love enveloped and sustained me every moment of my existence; i saw how everything i did had a moral content, for good or for ill, and which mattered far more than i would ever know; i saw how everything that had ever happened in my life was the most perfect thing that could be arranged for my own good by an all-Good, all-Loving God, especially those things that caused me the most suffering at the time; i saw that my two greatest regrets at the moment of death would be all of the time and energy i had wasted worrying…..when every moment of my existence i was held in the sea of God’s unimaginable great love, and every hour i had wasted not doing anything of value in the eyes of God.” ~roy schoeman chosen

yes, i crawled out bed to “feed” you that little tidbit. because there is really nothing quite like witnessing the fall of another to examine oneself a little closer.

i am forever humbled by my children. learning from them. in all of these unexpected bumps and spills.

it’s not something i want them to know yet.

that the head laundress has loads of her own dirty laundry, well, that will be between you and me.

i have a reputation to maintain ya know.

so toodles.

i am off to quietly return to my bed. where my very tired love snores loudly-somehow lulling the baby to sleep. yes, tangled in a mess of quilts and comforters. the baby sleeps. with us.

uh-oh. would that count as more dirty laundry…????

postcards from the edge of busy

you’ve been there too, right? busy.

in fact you probably live there. like i do. that place where there is goodness. and wonderfulness. sunshine. clouds. bad days. and glorious days.

that place where husbands have to work. and while this puts food on the table and everyone gets new shoes. it doesn’t allow for a lot of free mama time.

life stretched so thin you can almost see through it.

children growing up and doing things like passing their driver’s education and smoking marijuana for the first time.

he doesn’t lie to you and you wonder if that is a good thing?

you just want to read stories and work on failed science experiments. a battery operated morse code.

and discuss van gough. even though it is a little weird that he cut his ear off.

so you pull them closer.

worried and waiting for the ugliness of the world to penetrate.

again.

clinging. desperately to each pearly bead.

because really, that’s all this mama can do.

from the edge of busy.

because i do care. and i am there.

and here.

and everywhere.

and so is HE.

and at the end of a long day. that’s really all that matters.

i am helpless.

He is omnipotent.

why is it so hard to get that through my thick head?

i wanted so much to talk about food. and how i used thyme from my garden for dinner. sangria. my first yellow iris and the white ones that are blooming next. but my heart is heavy tonite. heavy with the burden of raising a teen in these hellish times.

the metamorphosis from boyhood to manhood can be a beautiful thing.

but right now i feel like i am experiencing my very own pieta.

the lifeless soul of my son lies in my hands.

and all i can hear is the ticking of the clock as i wait for time and grace to heal things that only time and grace can heal.

he is not a bad boy by any means. he is just trying to find his own way. separate from me and his father.

i just wish his head was a little softer than mine. so that the important stuff could sink in. making my life a lot more bloggable……..

grace notes

 

happenings. God making music with our lives. attracting our attention. we’re not meant to linger on them. but grace notes make the music richer. they let us know Somebody is there.

~the excerpt above is from chosen. it’s where i’ve got my nose every free chance i can get. sending chills up and down my spine. bringing tears to my eyes. making my heart sing that I. AM. A. CATHOLIC. making me curious about the faith. the apostles. the REAL PRESENCE of Jesus in the EUCHARIST.

the thesis of the book is simply this: Christ, not man converts, and while His shepherds may flee, He stays, drawing until the end of time the lost and weary to life upon the unbreakable rock of HIS Church.

i am often lost and weary myself.

conversion is a  lifelong process.

and frankly it feels so good to be a part of something  as big. ancient. solid. and outside of the constraints of time. as the Church.

happy weekending friends! hope you are finding lots of little grace notes in your own lives.

i’ve missed this place. but absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?

xo.

so…..

we are all pretty much on the same page. which reassures me that this sort of thing is best left to prayer. and time.

i, too, wonder if he “gets” confession. but then again i think this is sort of along the same lines as those peaks and valleys of faith. there were many years that i, myself, didn’t understand the effect of confession on my soul. and at this point i can only hope that Our Lord accepted those feeble attempts at confession.

i don’t think there is any doubt about the Presence of  JESUS. in the Most Holy Sacrament of the altar. young children don’t seem to have a problem with that.

thank you kindly for all of your words of wisdom.

as allison said, it is hard to know if we are “holding our children to a measurement that Christ wouldn’t.” but then again, this is something that most of us probably struggle with in many areas of our lives. especially when dealing with our “neighbor”. i know i do.

so many things weigh so heavily on our hearts as Catholic mamas and it is so awesome that this little community helps to ease those burdens a bit.

happy tuesday friends. it is a gloomy tuesday here in california. we are awaiting a storm coming from alaska. i hope it gets on its way out of here soon.

i never really cared for april showers.

how soon?

is too soon.

to receive Jesus?

the issue came up during mass regarding First Holy Communion in may. the red tape involved with receiving This special Sacrament is not as thick and contsrictive in a small traditional chapel as it is in the bigger parishes. especially to Catholic homeschooling families where faith. and catechism is something we are blessed to “do” every day.

but the question i am pining over. with regards to the baby. is this: is 6 too young?

father said kindly: he must understand what is happening on the altar. he does. he must understand what sin is. he does. he must know what Holy Communion is. or rather WHO Holy Communion is. he does.

so he will have an “interview” next week.

yesterday was Good Shepherd sunday for us.

the message: the Shepherd knows His sheep. and His sheep know Him.

His message to Simon Peter: feed the sheep.

what about the lambs?

what do you think?  i am curious as to your opinions on this delicate matter.

ultimately, i suppose if the priest decides he is ready, then i will respect his decision.

personally, i think that faith has its peaks and valleys. the young. innocent. heart. is at one of its highest peaks of belief. it isn’t until doubt and sin cloud one’s judgement and discernment regarding spiritual matters.

part of me wants to run with this. another part of me says wait.

thank goodness for the truly good shepherds who have been entrusted to lead us.

if you want something done right

too bad.

that about sums up my morning.

and with that attitude i feel like i am sort of telling Our Lord: i will walk the way of the Cross with You. but can i just put my comfortable-est shoes on first? and i don’t want to break into a sweat. and oh, can we stop for a drink of purified water?

my whiny list of demands could go on and on.

but instead i will to stop there.

and in a new breath. with that same free will.

i will instead ask for the grace to be thankful.

 for soap and water. because it cleans up a myriad of messes.

and for Confession and Holy Communion. The two Things which are the toughest on grime.

the grime that is me.

you see it is so tempting. as an adult. to look at the spills and messes of others and think yourself above it all.

but thankfully. at least this morning. the beam in my eye. is so obstructing my view from on high. that instead i am trying to use the frustration towards a greater good.

after all: there is nothing quite like a good spill to get one down on the old knees to pray……

exchanging nice-eties

thank you for all of your sweet birthday wishes! i really wish i had the time to write an individual note to every person that wished me well yesterday. just know you are in my thoughts and prayers.

it was a lovely day. the weather. the company. the homemade cards. birthday poem. and the two cakes. yes, there were two cakes. it’s as if the ones i love are trying to make me fatt-er. God bless them.

someone taught the baby to ride his bike sans training wheels yesterday. there should be rules against this sort of thing on mama’s birthday. i didn’t need to have a piece of my heart torn out.

“i am kind of a big boy now,” he told me. rubbing salt in the wound.

i realize that this same someone is just picking up where the biggest brother left off with him. this is something siblings do. helping each other to grow up. a concept completely foreign to me. the only child. the helping part. not the growing up.

i am, after all, a grown up now.

changing the subject a bit: my first japanese iris bloomed. how tall and graceful she is.

this is blooming too. i thought it was a hollyhock at first. but now i am not so sure. i would like to know though. i like to be on a first name basis with all of the members of my garden.

i’d like to know that gopher’s name too so i can yell at him to go bother someone else!

well, i’ll leave this space now. wishing you all blooming flowers. soft yarn. sticky baby kisses and cake. and any and all other nice-eties that your heart desires. it is still easter people. hooray!

but i have to get back to my spring cleaning.

except i never got to bleaching those sinks.

not yet anyway.

a title-less post

i am forcing myself to notice yellow today. because it is my favorite color. besides red. and because i am trying not to notice all of the messes in almost every room in the house.

what is it about a serious cleaning that makes messes grow. i feel like things are following me from one room to another and nothing is getting put where it belongs or in the TRASH for that matter.

i think there are people secretly trying to sabotage my mission.

it was a rainy monday yesterday and i was desperately seeking sunshine. but it wasn’t to be found in its’ usual form until the afternoon.

it was, however, abundant in the form of things and people. especially little people. dancing around the kitchen. whistling. and making messes masterpieces with legos.

i am always in awe of how little children are unaffected by things that make us blue.

they will dance in a dirty kitchen. and whistle while there are piles of dirty laundry needing to be sorted.

you didn’t think we were doing school today. or this whole week for that matter did you?

yes, spring break is supposed to be over. but i think we’ll be needing at least a week to recover from that vacation . which was really nothing but a bundle of stress and worry for me. there is nothing quite like a family crisis to throw everything out of whack.

on a lighter note a birthday package arrived from my aunt yesterday. it was filled with some things for me and the baby. biscotti. see’s candy truffles. spending money. beaded embellishments. ric rac. and two boxes of long grain rice. a rather random assortment, wouldn’t you say? she is so funny. i just love her packages. one never can tell what she’ll send!

i think i’ll end this profound post by asking if you think there should be a statute of limitations on crimes of fashion for children who hoard and wear belly shirts and halloween socks in the spring (the offender is 6). i have been trying to figure out what the punishment for this offense, as well as punishment for the girl -who on the opposite extreme of the boys- has been hiding halloween candy in her room. still in the bag. since october.

i should probably just let it go. i know. what’s the use.

just know mothers. that most children. when they say they’ve “cleaned their room”. they really haven’t. and if you trust them the joke’s on you.

happy tuesday, friends!

i’ll try to write a birthday post on wednesday about how exciting it has been to bleach the sinks!

breathing easier

breathing easier simply because he is.

my father that is.

unfortunately, he is still in the hospital, but all in all he is doing better.

probably because of our visit to his tiny. claustrophobic. artificially lit room.

we bombarded him with homemade cards and garden flowers in baby food jars.

that is enough to make anyone feel better. wouldn’t you agree?

on the subject of breathing easier, one of the things i needed to accomplish this week, to breathe a little easier myself, was spring cleaning each of the kids’ rooms.

*sigh*.

i don’t know who is worse. boys or girls.

on one hand there is my daughter-the someday-project runway-designing genius/ possible candidate for an episode of hoarders/who insists there is value to every scrap of paper. polly pocket shoe. and bottle of nailpolish.

then there is the teenager who decided to bring home a ratty weight set. with a tattered seat and rusty dumbbells. and place it smack in his bedroom. it now keeps company with stacks of xbox games. cords. and a trash can piled with junk food.

and last. but certainly not least are the tween and the baby. equally sloppy and messy. each one blaming the other for the state of disaster and havoc in their room. on the up side to all this: i found a whole slew of missing socks belonging to various family members and the secret hiding place of all the easter candy which had just “disappeared”. sadly reduced to piles of empty wrappers.

so. maybe i’m not breathing easier.

i could’ve used all that chocolate.

and i could use a little boredom.

i thought lent was over.

i so wanted some time to finish the picnic quilt and that book i’ve been reading forever and a day.

time to catch up on the 7 episodes of LOST i am behind on and bake the chocolate biscotti from that recipe i’ve been saving.

hmmmmmm.

no. the good daughter realizes that the cross is never far away.

embrace it. kiss it. and have a good cup of tea.

if you can. and if you can’t. then ask for the grace to.

but never fear the work that each day brings.

so i say to myself as i sit here in need of a warm shower…

and possibly a whole. bottle of wine.

yes, spring cleaning and breathing easier is taking its’ toll on this mama.