Prediction

Well, I guess we officially have the flu here.

After pretty much just getting a mild version for the past two months of just colds and one day fevers, half of the kids are sick, the other half bound to get it soon.

No vomiting, just fevers and tummy aches and sore throats. Lucy's fever was up to 102.2 and Anna was up to 102. Funny thing is, I had no idea that she was even sick when I took the picture. She never indicated that she wasn't feeling well; I figured that she just wanted to be like Lucy and look sick like her. (She did a pretty good job.)

Max had a small fever of 99.7. So far, Luke seems to be fine and so does Henry.

Lucy took a four hour nap. She hasn't taken a nap since she was three.

I have a prediction.

Dennis is supposed to go on an overnight fishing trip with his Dad on Monday; I predict that on Monday I will be sick too. Not because I want to be, but just because that would be just my luck.

We shall see, won't we?

Christmas pictures

Our Christmas picture. Now you know why you didn't get any Christmas cards from us. 

Luke explaining to Anna that Santa Claus is trapped inside the sun room.

Opening presents!

I gave Max my old video camera. He's been asking for one for months.

Mrs. Potato Head! Finally, a companion for Mr.Potato Head!

A puzzle! Luke loves to put puzzles together.

"Santa brought me a Dora ball!" (Luke popped the other one.)

A Hello Kitty water dispenser! Now when Lucy gets thirsty at night, she can get her own water!

A Scooby Doo DVD!

I'm happy with my two toys, thank you. 

Babies are so easy to please. Most of the time.

Later, after Mass I suggest: "Hey, let's get a picture of the kids by the Blessed Virgin Statue in the garden."

Dennis: "Good idea."

Ahem, notice anyone missing???

The Blessed Virgin statue is right behind Dennis and the kids. Oops.

....like the Blessed Virgin statue????

We are good Catholics. I promise.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to everyone and remembering Sandy Hook heroes today

Not the best picture, sorry!

Merry Christmas to my family, near and far, and to those who read our family blog, lurkers and commenters alike. :-) Our thoughts and prayers are especially with those who have lost their children recently. In fact. yesterday for our Sunday school, we cut out candles for each victim that died in the tragic shootings a week and a half ago. It's hard to see in the picture because the sun  insisted on shining even though the blinds were pulled--but now our paper candles kind of light up, don't they?

 I went through the victims names on a website that tells a little something of each victim that died, and I put this on each candle, along with the names and ages of each child and teacher that died. I tried to find the link where I got this information, but now I can't find it.

Two candles are very special to me:

Little Dylan was a special needs student, and Anne Marie Murphy was his special ed teacher. They were both shot dead; Anne Marie Murphy's body was found holding little Dylan. His parents said, "We find great comfort knowing that Dylan didn't die alone."

Do you know how much this comforts me, as a mother of a special needs student? I know, I'm not supposed to be thinking of me, me, me, during this time. But when I read that Dylan died, that he had autism, and the fear and confusion that he must have been feeling, it really struck me in the heart and Max instantly flew into my mind. Remembering Max's words when he had to practice the Intruder Alert drill: "I didn't know what was going on, everyone was hiding and I couldn't find a place to hide."

But the next person that I came across was his special ed teacher, and how she tried to protect him. They both died, but they died at least, holding one another. 

Every candle that I tacked to the wall, I read the child/teacher's name with a little story about them. As the kids (my kids) began to watch the row of candles grow longer and longer, and every name and story they heard, they began to become more and more somber.

This little boy was a hero; he died by trying to lead his friends to safety.

This teacher's body was found shielding the children.

 I don't like having to expose my children to the world--because they are seeing more and more that there is evil. I don't like telling them stories of children getting killed, and I don't like to see their innocence being taken away.

But I decided to do this because the fact is, there is evil in this world. This is the world that they're growing up in. If I have to introduce them to it, then I might as well prepare them for it. But not with anger or vengeance, with prayer. We said a Hail Mary for each victim. I thought Luke was going to pass out from it all.

There was one more candle I wanted to put up. 

Adam and his brother Ryan Lonza. Lucy asked why Adam, who was the killer of these people, got to be right next to Jesus. 

I told her it's because Adam needs the most mercy. 

And who are we to judge, no matter how terrible the evil? 

I pray for Adam because he is still a soul that Jesus died for, knowing full well what Adam would do. But He died for him anyway. Only God knows the capability of Adam's understanding and intent; we don't know what passed between him and God before he died. 

And we pray for Adam's brother Ryan, who is being persecuted daily for what his brother did. I read an article of which he plead, "Please don't call my brother names. He's dead, and I love him."

The kids looked really sad for Adam and Ryan, probably more sad than for the other victims. I had told them that the victims were most likely all in heaven, but for Adam, we don't know where he is. So the kids prayed a Hail Mary for him too, and as Max prayed, he held his arms out in a cross--he only does this when he wants to pray really, really hard. 

We're having a merry Christmas today, despite the sad tragedies, and we're remembering those who are grieving today. We're celebrating being together, looking forward to opening gifts, and celebrate the joy of Christmas. Because we remember that God is bigger than anything.

Max and the fire drill

A little bit of randomness to make up for my depressing last post....


When the students at the kids school practiced the "red drill" (intruder alert), it really freaked out Max, because for one thing, he had never experienced a drill like that, and for another, he couldnt' find a place to hide and didn't know what to do. After that, I talked to his special ed teacher to tell her that Max needs to be warned in advance of a drill, and needs to be told that it's just for practice and what he needs to do. So they agreed to do this from now on.

So one day, they were going to do a fire drill and as promised, the special ed teacher warned Max about it beforehand. Later that day, at supper, Max said, "Guess what? Today I talked in class." (This is a rare thing and we always celebrate it when Max talks out loud in class, as he never talks.) "Really?" I said, excited, "what did you say?"
"I told someone that we were going to have a fire drill. And then, everyone began to say to each other, 'Max just said we're going to have a fire drill today!'"
"What did your teacher say?" I asked, as I began to wonder if Max had let the cat out of the bag.
"She said in a real excited way, 'Really Max? We're going to have a fire drill?' And then she began to laugh."
I didn't think too much of it, because when I was a kid, we were always warned when we would have a fire drill. It was that way for me all the way to high school. I was just happy that Max talked in class.

A few weeks later at Max's IEP meeting, the teachers were going through all of the accommodations that were being made to meet Max's academic and social goals, and Ashley (his special ed teacher) mentioned that they would also make sure to continue to warn Max ahead of time before any sort of drills. And then she stopped and laughed and said, "Well, maybe instead of telling Max the day before I will tell him a few minutes before the drill. The last time we had a fire drill, he told the entire school that we were going to have a fire drill and it kind of ruined the drill."

"He told the entire school???" I asked, "I thought it was just his class!"

It turned out that Max did start with his class; he mentioned it to one student, who then mentioned it to another, and pretty soon the entire class knew. But then throughout the rest of the day, as the kids mingled in the lunchroom and recess, the news of the fire drill spread through out the school and pretty soon kids were asking their teachers if it was true they would be having a fire drill soon--and the teachers who didn't know that Max let the cat out of the bag were very confused how they found out.

Luckily, the entire group that was at the IEP meeting was chuckling about it, including the Principal, so they didn't seem to be too annoyed with Max about it, and Ashely took full responsibility of the mishap.

The point is, if you have a secret that you don't want to be known, don't tell Max.

Tragic Day

What a sad day this has been.

I don't think I have been this sad since 9/11. The tragety of so many innocent children being killed, in an environment that is supposed to be safe--school. And an elementary school, at that. It made me think, "this is another reason why I wish we could home school!" I know you can't keep your kids in a bubble, but it's no longer considered to be unusual to hear of a school shooting. A mass shooting seems to happen once every few months lately.

But to hear of little children dying, well, I won't get into it. There is no point in making yourself sick with the sad thoughts of how terrified they must have been. My thoughts are with the parents tonight, who lost their children, who are looking at the empty beds their kids would sleep in.

You would think that this tragedy would make me more loving to my own kids. But when they got home, I was tense and edgy from the hearing the news all morning. Even when I wasn't listening to the news, you would hear it from someone else. Henry hadn't napped all day, which makes me tense and crabby anyway, but with this on top of it, I wasn't really fit to be around. I just wanted to get out.

We got an email from the kids school about the shooting. I thought it was going to be all about reassuring the parents that their school continues to be a safe place to be, but instead, it was all about how we should reassure our kids. I thought this was very strange. I didn't feel like I needed to be counseled on how to comfort my kids, and I doubt that any other parent needed that help. Hearing of a mass murder of innocent children instantly brings out the maternal and protective instinct in parents anyway. What I wanted was to be reassured--I wanted to know what the school does to protect our kids. I wanted to hear about security systems and drills and of security guards, metal detectors, whatever. But all it said at the end of the email was, "We continue to make sure our school is safe for the children."

I didn't say anything about the shooting to the kids when they got home. I wasn't sure if I was going to, and if I did decide to tell them, I wanted to tell them in a way that wouldn't scare them so much that they would be afraid to go to school again. My kids get scared very easily. But instead, Lucy told me all about it. "Did you know that a bunch of kids got killed today? There were 27 of them, and they all died!" She told me this while laughing, which I thought was very unLucy-like. But then I thought that maybe she didn't completely understand the gravity of the situation, which might have been a blessing.

Later tonight, after the kids were in bed, I heard Lucy crying in her room. When I went to check on her, she was sobbing, saying how she was afraid she would get shot down at school. She was also crying for all the children. So she did understand the gravity of the situation; laughing was her way of coping with it.

What I didn't like was that the teacher told Lucy (and her class) all about the shooting. I wish she had left that to the parents to tell. It's one thing to enforce why it's important to follow the red drill (intruder drill) for reasons like what happened today, but she went into too much detail. Every time I tried to comfort Lucy, she would come up with another reason why she was afraid. When I told her that Lucy's school was locked all the time, Lucy said, "My teacher said that the intruder can still break down the door." When I told her that her school is very safe and probably couldn't break down the door, she said, "My teacher said that they can still break through the windows or come through the roof." No matter what I said, the teacher topped me somehow. I was getting pretty annoyed with that teacher.

Lucy wanted to sleep with the lights on, but that wouldn't work with Anna, who is a night-owl anyway, and needs a dark room. We were going to leave the door open a crack, but Anna tends to be pretty noisy at night and we didn't want her to wake up Henry. Suddenly, I got an idea. I went in the closet and pulled out a birthday present that I was planning to give to Lucy for her birthday next week. It was a Dream-lite, which is a pillow pet that lights up the ceiling with stars. I gave it to Lucy, and she instantly cheered up and was finally able to go to sleep.

I had gone to Adoration earlier--this was my escape. I needed this time, because like so many others, on my mind were questions, like "why??" Why innocent children? This world seems to be in agreement over one thing for once--today's act was an act of evil.

I was having a lot of questions for God. One thing I did know was that I still believed--but what bothered me was I was having a hard time seeing His love and Mercy. Earlier in the day, I was trying to gather some sense of peace and went to the Bible to read the psalms. I thought a psalm for times of distress would help me cope somehow through my sorrows, but every time I turned a page, I only found psalms praising God for His goodness. I didn't want to read those, and then suddenly I knew why: I was doubting God's goodness.

I don't have the psalms in front of me right now, but I did read them, and I was comforted. The psalms talked about how God uplifts the faithful and casts out the wicked; it talked about little things, like grass on the mountains and the warm rays of the sun on earth. My sadness was not cast out, but my doubts began to fade away, as I remembered that of course God is good. It's the world that is evil.

My prayers are for the families tonight, that this terribly tragedy won't break the faith of those who believe--but rather, that they will only increase in faith, and lean on God as He leads them through it.

Busy, Busy

I've been really busy working on orders for a few weeks now, which is why I'm not updating much. The picture above is an order for a convent of 24 one decade rosaries. Each color is custom ordered. When the customer ordered this, she had said she needed it as a Christmas present for the nuns who worked at her husbands school--however, she didn't tell me that she needed it for a Christmas party on the 15th. So basically my time got cut in half.

On top of that, I had orders coming in daily. One or two a day, nothing more, but it was difficult to keep up with that plus this huge order. I even had to shut down my shop for a few days so that I could catch up.

Then this thing with Dominic has been a big distraction. People on Facebook are wanting updates or ask questions--I refer them to Dominic's blog, but I've also been keeping updates on my other blog, Roses for Mary. The blogging and rosary making have been taking up all my time.

Dennis has been good about watching the kids a little extra during the day so that I can get in extra rosary work in, but it's been wearing on the entire family. I go to bed exhausted and it's stressful to hear the kids whining for me. I try to take breaks to help out Dennis and play with the kid, but then I remember all the orders that I have to do, so I get anxious to get back to work again. I'll be happy once Christmas is done, so that the orders slow down a bit. I never thought I would say that!

I had a cardiology appt today to get my yearly Echo done on my heart. It's all just routine, nothing is going on. I have had some interesting arythmias and so I'm wearing a heart monitor to record the "events". But of course, nothing is going on right now. I almost feel like holding my breath and passing out just so that I can record an event and not look like I'm lying. Just kidding, I won't actually do that.

Watching my heart on the Echo is always very interesting. It's really weird to see a portion of your heart not pumping. The technician showed me where the heart attack affected the heart--which is the upper area of the heart. The rest of the heart compensates for the part that is "dead", which is why I get tired more easily. I've been used to myself getting tired more easily than I used to, but every time I see my heart like that and not pumping, it hits me all over again, how real the heart attack was. Sometimes it seems like it's not real.

Okay, I better get back to the grindstone, but I thought I would just check in!

The irritating practicality of MEN!

So, you men may not want to read this post. Because I am very irritated with men.

We've had a problem with low water pressure for about a week now, and every day, the shower gave less and less pressure to the point where it wasn't worth taking a shower anymore. And then the faucet in the tub began to lose water pressure, to the point where it was only a trickle. We did our best to give the kids baths as long as we could, but by the time we got the tub halfway filled, the water had already turned cold. After that, it was washing hair at the sink and taking sponge baths. Through all this, Dennis was trying to figure out what was wrong, but decided a plumber should look into it, since plumbing doesn't seem to be an area he knows a lot about. Problem is, plumbers cost a lot of money.

I admit, practicality has it's moments. Dennis hooked the hose up to the sink downstairs...

...into the bathtub. The kids kept throwing the hose around, but you can't have everything.

Here is where I'm a little irritated.

We decided to use Roto Rooster, because they take credit cards and other plumbers don't. (Greedy little vipers.) I was told that they would be coming today around 9 to just look at the problem and give an estimate. So I thought that I could sneak in a quick nap for Henry, who usually naps about 9. I knew it wouldn't be much of a nap, so at 8:30 I tried to put him down early. Lucky for me, he did fall asleep. Unlucky for me, the plumber showed up at 8:45.

So I tried to keep calm and not worry about it, because he was there only to assess the situation. Or so I thought. Pretty soon, he was shouting from the bathroom to Dennis about what was going on, and pounding on the fixtures to get them open. He was doing this, even after being told that we had a baby sleeping across the hall and to please keep the door closed.

I realize that the plumbing is pretty important. I know that as usual, I worry too much over naps. I realize that practicality wins-again. But I can't help thinking--a promise was broken. He wasn't supposed to be here to fix the problem, he was here to assess the situation so that I could plan out Henry's naps another way. But Dennis and the plumber decided to go ahead and fix it anyway.

The irritating practicality of men.

So I've been hiding out in my room, because I don't trust myself to be nice to either man right now.

To back up my point, let me tell you this somewhat humorous story that happened last year when Dennis went ice fishing. I think I may have already told this story in my old, old blog, but I'll tell it again--just to lighten up the mood.

Dennis took the boys ice fishing last year--Luke and Max. Luke was 4, and Max was about 7, almost 8. This was supposed to be their first overnight fishing experience and I couldn't find any reason why they shouldn't go. But I begged Dennis to make sure the boys got to bed at a reasonable hour. I knew it wouldn't be the regular beditme hour, but at least not at 10:00.

So at 9:00, I decided to call Dennis to see if he got the boys to bed yet. He hadn't yet, but was getting to it and was about to turn off the lights. While on the phone, this man interrupted our phone conversation by knocking on the ice house door. Dennis told me to hold on and put the phone in his pocket because he thought it was the DNR, as they sometimes stop by fish houses to make sure everyone's following the rules. It turned out to be just another fisher man, stopping by to say hello.

So I'm sitting there waiting, on the phone, in Dennis's pocket, while Dennis and the stranger is sitting there chatting away. I was getting increasingly irritated, first with feeling forgotten, but then, as the minutes grew, I realized that this man was overstaying his intrusion and making it impossible to get the boys to bed, who were politely sitting there listening. Then, to increase my annoyance, I heard this man swearing every other word. Mama Bear was getting pretty angry, knowing that this man was totally disregarding the kids innocence in just assuming it was okay to talk in that way in front of them, and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. In the phone I yelled, "HEY! STOP SWEARING! THERE'S KIDS LISTENING TO YOU!!"

Suddenly, there was silence, and then a very embarrassed, "Oh. Sorry."  I was a little embarrassed myself, and quickly hung up. I had wanted him to hear me, and yet was sorry that he did.

And so, sometimes I just don't feel kindly towards men and their practicality. They will never think like a mother, I know, and I, will never think like a man.

And now, I would like to head off to the gym so I dont' go crazy listening to this man pounding on our pipes, but I can't. Because Roto-Rooster has me blocked in.