On the Feast of the Nativity of John the Baptist

Three years ago today, I was due.  Due dates are silly things really, and I really shouldn't ever pay much attention to them.  But without fail, I get to be 9 months pregnant, and I am just, done.

Today was the day my husband's grandmother died, years ago.  When my Mother-in-law heard the due date, she was certain I'd deliver on the date of her mother's passing.  That didn't help things.  I was just setting myself up for disappointment.

The truth is, I REALLY wanted to land the Feast of St. Maria Goretti as my baby's birthday, since the pregnancy was an answer to a prayer made (twice) at her Major Relics, on tour of the U.S. in 2016, in honor of the Year of Mercy.

I landed neither date, and it's my own fault, I'm convinced.  The final 10 days of pregnancy were far from peaceful resignation.  I bounced on birthing balls, went for long walks, gardened, had my membranes stripped, and hit a low when I gave acupuncture a try for the first time!  Nothing was beneath me!

Finally, I cast all of my cares and hopes upon the Lord.  My Mother-in-Law asked our priest in her home state to pray for us.  He said, "Tell them to pray to St. Anne, and to be at peace".  So I did.  Pray that is.  And I tried to be at peace.

That night my water broke.

Three years later, that special boy born two days before the Feast of St. Maria Goretti, is still my baby.  I have wondered if he will be my last.  I may not know that for sure for some time.  However, I have become very sentimental about babies.  My babies, other peoples babies, having babies, not having babies.

I think about babies a lot.

I'm not sure how long ago I started praying Morning Prayer, but after I became baby-obsessed, I fell in love with the Canticle of Zechariah.  Specifically, the stanza that says,

"You, my child, shall be called the prophet

of the Most High;

for you will go before the Lord to prepare his way,

to give his people knowledge of salvation

by the forgiveness of their sins."

I imagined Zechariah holding his precious newborn son, praising God and knowing that his own child, St. John the Baptist, would be the great prophet to prepare the world for the coming Messiah.  

Zechariah had just had a big lesson in humility, being struck dumb after disbelieving the angel Gabriel.  He must have been very purified, and full of joy and love of both God and this child.

It's tender, the way he pauses, and addresses St. John the Baptist as "my child".  He is speaking to the greatest prophet, the one Christ would praise as the greatest man ever to have been born of woman! 

Zechariah goes on to speak gorgeous words of poetry:

In the tender compassion of our God 

the dawn from on high shall break upon us,

to shine on those who dwell in darkness

and the shadow of death,

and to guide our feet into the way of peace.

Forgiveness, compassion, peace.  These are the words of the hour.  These are the words inspired by the Holy Spirit.  This is what God has planned for us, and it is what God will accomplish.

But only in spite of mankind.  In spite of how we receive the Prophet and the Messiah.  

Sweet, precious, baby John will have his head separated from his body, and Infinitely Sweet, Precious Baby Jesus will be separated from all of His Blood.

On this great Feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, I just wanted to pause and savor this moment, the moment of the infancy of this great martyr-prophet, held in his father's hands.  His father speaks blessing.  John's voice will cry out in the wilderness.

But for today, we linger in that room, with the Blessed Virgin who came to welcome her Son's herald into this world, with St. Elizabeth, St. Zechariah, and the two babies, one born, and One to-be-born on Christmas day.

June Joy

I miss bloggers.  Maybe I need to track down new voices, because I know there are blogs.  But I miss "Mom blogs".  The old-fashioned moms sounding off and sharing their world without any monetary incentive.

So, following the advice that it's "better to light one light", I'm going to get back to my own blog and just write for myself what I wish others would get back to.

June has been cold, but that hasn't stopped us from launching right into swimming lessons for 4 of our kiddos (the pool has cancelled on account of weather twice).

When I run the kids, Sam loves to hit the park as we wait for the swimmers.  Since I only have him with me (besides the 4 in the pool), I do what any mom of 9 will do when she finds herself alone with just one: she takes pictures as if he were her first and her only.

He isn't my first, nor my only, but he is my baby, and he's looking at Three.

Today we began potty training, and it's going well--we've had success on both levels, and I'll leave the details at that!

It is also baseball season.  My husband coaches Bilbo's team, which is awesome because Legolas gets to be the official "bat boy":

 and Gimli is the official first base coach:

 I absolutely love having my men folk sharing and bonding in this way.  It's a real family effort, and makes it a lot of fun to cheer for.  That said, my main job is to stay home with the little kids and get the swimmers to swim team and the little kids down well before the ballers are home from the games!

pitching

 Happiness is...

And last, the first injury of summer (it always happens), this year, it's "stitches" (just the purple glue)!

Good as new!

It's Summer!!!

It's only official when we have our annual end-of-the-school-year field trip to the ZOO!

Flamingoes are Eowyn's obsession, so, we had to track them down.

 I tried to capture as many of my family members as possible.  We were all there together, and next year is Arwen's senior year.  I was deeply aware that these days of all-of-us-at-home are limited.  I also hatched a plan: we will continue this "Zoo" tradition all the way until we're grandparents coordinating a family reunion with 48 grandchildren meeting for a day at the zoo!

 We'll supply endless quarters for everyone to feed the goats.  We'll fill up the entire train and carousel for unlimited rides.  I'll probably be in a wheelchair, but I'll smile and wave, and hold a bag of quarters.

It's going to be perfect.

Just like today was.

I think it's Spring

Some years Spring comes early.  Well, not really early, but earlier.  And some years Spring doesn't really seem to elude the long fingers of Winter until June.  I'm actually not exaggerating this time (I always speak in hyperbole)...  as ten years ago, when my youngest sister got married on the FIRST warm day of the year--May 22--, we're looking at June and it seems like I might not need my down parka this week. ( I did see fur-lined hoods last week, for the record.)  I know, don't move here.

My tulips are belying my words.  But somehow these tough little flowers managed to bloom during the moments of hope, when the sun shined.

With the plentiful Spring rains, comes plentiful Spring mud.  One of these girls is headed off to high school next fall.  What will I do, watching my little neighborhood friends grow up?!

Do you know the book "The Blueberry Pie Elf?"  I have my own in the house!  Bilbo made two blueberry pies on Saturday, and Legolas just had to have the leftovers for "breakfast" on Sunday!

I have this baby.

 Love of my life.

 And this baby, cat-lover, looking at her Senior year in high school.  Love these children so much.  Make them stop growing!!

 My happy place--not quite finished yet!  We need hanging flowers for the summer.  But do you love my new chimes?!! They are my favorite ever!!

My "kitchen madonna" (have you read Rumor Godden's "The Kitchen Madonna?").  Must read for littles.

There are my quick takes for the day!

Late April Out-takes

I had hoped it wasn't true.  It was.  It snowed yesterday.  This morning we woke to Spring sunshine, and snow that would melt before morning was over.

Honestly, it was beautiful.  Spring sun on snow.

Sitting pretty.  Wilma is definitely the queen of the house...funny, because our dog is named "Reina".

We haven't really seen the sun since the snow.  Rain, fog.  This is Bilbo soaking in the rays that did come in April...before the return of snow.  And with this hopeful vision, I await beautiful days in May, with lots of warm sunny pictures of flowers blooming!

Moving Day

My sister had the cutest little starter home, and she said that she would never move.  She said she'd fit them in somehow.  And she would have.  But, after the twins and then her newborn, her little single child family was suddenly a group of 4.  Their house was a two-bedroom, and with two boys and two girls, something had to give.  By God's providence a dream house (that they had drooled over a year ago and not been able to afford) had come back on the market, and this time, it was possible.  Still by His providence, their offer was accepted--just weeks after their newborn was born (actually, I think it was the week after he was born!)  

I was called by a sister today, attempting to move (houses) with an 8 week old and two-year-old twins, and her oldest, who is seven.  I dashed over, grabbed the kiddos (not the infant) and drove home [we live 30 seconds down the road].  Bilbo (11) started reading to twin A and Rosie (8) took twin B to the front yard to go down a Fisher Price slide.  The 7 year old was simply off somewhere with the rest of my kids, playing.  Oh yes--I had set them up with water colors outside and they were painting  rocks (that's where they were).  I started chopping celery for my sister's chicken salad for dinner.

Then I got another call.  There was an infant crying.  My desperate sister needed me to come hold the baby!  Ummm...yes, I have a 14 year old as well on hand (everyone else was gone at baseball games and friends' houses).  So, I gave orders: kids, you're all babysitting!  Gimli was officially in charge.  Rosie had twin B and Bilbo had twin A.  We were good.  I drove back to my sister's house and I held an 8 week old angel for about an hour while my postpartum sister scoured her tubs and sinks so the kids could all have a bath in a sanitized bathroom in their new house that night.

I held that little ball of fluff until the bathrooms were clean and the twin cribs were assembled by my brother-in-law.  Then I passed my little nephew back to his mama and I ran home to grab that dinner I was working on, and the kids.

My (sister's) sweet little twins toddled up to their home for the first time.  I hope I never forget the vision of my young, beautiful sister walking her twin's in and saying "come into our new home! This is our new home!"  I wondered how many years they would live there.  Will I see wedding showers in that home?  The 7-year-old showed Rosie around the entire house in about 3 minutes.  They squealed and ran and jumped.

I came home and fed my own children, then we took baths, my boys (yes) cleaned for me, and I read books to my little ones.  Sam needed to go to bed.  So did Eowyn.

My big boys are waiting for Dad and Aragorn to come home from a game that they almost won.

Home.  It's a big word.  Moving is a big deal.  I didn't want to fail to record today's milestone in my sister's life.  I'm so honored to have been part of it.

My Surprise Babies

Anna, from In Honor of Design blog is instagraming about her surprise baby and the gift that she is.  I was thinking about if I had a surprise baby, and the first to come to mind was Eowyn.  We had the stomach flu that winter and I was nauseated for about two months.  But with 7 children, the flu had cycled through the family once and then the first to get it were re-infected by the last to get it...you get it: rough winter!  But sometime early Spring I had a day set apart from the kids' sickness when I had yet another wave of nausea and that time it dawned on me that I might be pregnant.  I took a test, and yes.  I hadn't had a cycle after Legolas (#7) so, it was a surprise.

I instantly got onto some website and calculated my due date and landed Christmas Eve!! I was so pumped! But then came my next surprise.

I went to the ob/gyn and she wanted a quick check ultrasound to confirm dates given my lack of cycle.  There was a darling, swimming and playing little ballerina (I didn't know it was a girl yet), 10 weeks old!! As I've said before, my Christmas Elf became myThanksgiving Turkey!  I was already almost two months along!  That was a real surprise!

So, that's the story that came first to mind...

but of course, I never did get a cycle after I got married.  Honeymoon baby.  I WAS surprised. I guess she wasn't "unplanned", although I certainly wasn't planning on anything, we were just open.  And as I counted my calendar dates from the office I was working in at the time, I began to hope.  Then I began to doodle girl names at my desk.  My husband did NOT believe me when I told him I thought I was pregnant.  We had to buy three boxes of tests.  I'm not sure WHAT I did wrong, but sure enough--I finally got that positive!  My husband, for one, was shocked.  I was ecstatic!

I guess Arwen counts as surprise baby #1.

We were trying and hoping by the time Aragorn was conceived.  But at 9 months out, with no cycle yet, Gimli was our second true surprise.

I didn't think of him as a "surprise" baby, because I (in my very youthful enthusiasm) had already been hoping for another.  But when I told my husband I thought I might be pregnant (as I whipped up spaghetti at 2 in the afternoon to satisfy an insatiable craving), he said, "you can't be: you haven't had a cycle yet".  Well, shock #2 for my husband, and our beloved Gimli came as the best gift his big brother could have ever received.  At 18 months apart, those two have been each other's greatest gifts.

So, I think that's it.  Three TRUE surprise babies.  Two conceived with no cycle in between babies.

For YEARS I could count how many cycles I had in our marriage on one hand.  But that's probably TMI for the inter webs! lol

Time to dash!  Have a great weekend!