No Squeaks Here

We have a hard and fast rule (again with the English language. Just what does that mean exactly?) The bathroom door MUST be closed and the light must be shut off. Otherwise the toddler and preschooler have a tendency to do things that should not be done. Things like this: sticking hands up to their little wrists in Aquaphor and applying to hair, clothing, cabinetry, floors, each other and of course eating it. Aquaphor is a staple in this household. It works so well for Eczema (which our poor sweet Katie is suffering) and for dry lips. It seems to be an amazing hair product. Multiple washings made not a dent in the greaser look our two boys were sporting. Maybe they should have leather jackets too? We will see how it works to keep all systems flowing. I can't even imagine.

The Gift of Christmas

This is the last Sunday of Advent. This prepatory season has flashed by, quicker even than it normally does. I think the biggest and most obvious reason for this is the birth of Katie. It is hard to sit back and just accept that this Advent, normal is not normal. That there are things that just won't happen this year. And.that's.okay. It is. Really. Breath in, breath out. It's okay.

This is the season of our lives and we just need to enjoy this beautiful gift that God has blessed us with, so close to His own birth. And she is a gift. It is this graciousness, mercy and generosity of our Lord that I meditate on. Here is this amazing little person, who smiles at us with great simple joy. How can I not be grateful? I don't know when God will decide that's it - no more little souls will come our way. But for now He has sent us one more precious child and I am so happy to delight in her and in our God's love for all of us.

These thoughts lead me to think and ponder the birth of Jesus. The hardships, the joys and hopes that sprung from one small human, who was divine, but who knew? There was so much faith required by everyone, including Herod. Herod who heard and believed in the majesty of the small boy, but he denied and misunderstood that lordship. He believed enough to kill who knows how many little boys to protect his earthly throne. Mary and Joseph who were told by an Angel and they believed. It would have been so much simpler to pretend those visitations didn't happen. But they believed. The magi who by faith of their sciences travelled so far to worship a small boy, who was obviously poor. Today's scientists would probably scoff. This can't be right. But their faith was pure. And the saints who followed them imitate that faith. It is a long line of faith, that we are called to imitate. This is our heritage.

Advent Lite

Less filling?Despite my best efforts/intentions, our Advent has been very pared down. St. Nicholas did come, although he was late. He brought chocolate coins, Jelly Belly beans, St. Anne medals, and Night at the Museum 2. As well he picked up the letters that the children wrote to the Christ child. So cute, the things they say. Xander wrote something about St. Nicholas bringing Easter eggs. Some theology and liturgical calendar study needs to happen me thinks.

May the Souls of the Faithful

Mr. H went home last Friday. His funeral was Monday. It was a testimony to a life well lived and a death well anticipated. He was prepared. He was ready. So was his family. That's not to say that they're happy he's gone. Maybe a little bit for his sake, but they miss him. But this is a story of hope, of knowing where he is gone to. This family truly believes and there's no despair. But there is sadness. This man lived for his family. He was married to his best friend for 52 years. Together they had 7 children and 26 grandchildren. These children have a wonderful role model to follow.

He was a shy man and I didn't really know him that well. But I know his example. I have watched the loving way in which he and his wife have served quietly and well. How generous he was and how this family has warmly drawn me to them time and time again. And it's what I want for my family. It's not what we have, but it is something to aspire to. And that is why God gives us the saints and saintly around us. To know good and to be attracted to it. To desire it and to move towards it, always looking to perfect love, as a response to that perfect love. To know that it is possible. There is so much to meditate on. Pray for us Mr. H.

Kidisms from the past week

A small sampling of things we hear:

"Dad, has Katie had her V.D. yet today?" (Vitamin D)

Child drying garlic press, "Where does the nut smasher go?"

Toddler who learnt bouncing on the couch can leave one with a goose egg on the noggin, "I going down stairs. I won't hurt myself. Weally I won't."

Toddler out for revenge, "I go beat Xander." And he heads joyfully for the dining room.

All Hail

After a long day of anxiety driven labour fueled by induction and lack of control, Katherine Isabelle Rose was born at 3:11. She is a benevolent little princess, who rules her kingdom with docility and sleepy eyes. Her courtiers are slaves at her feet(figuratively speaking of course) and plead to hold her (great reward for school work well done). She is so beautiful and we all adore her. Her languid movements and little squeaks make my heart swell. Who would think that a 6th baby could still be such poetry. She's not prosy at all.

Proof!

I'd forgotten about this. When Alexander was 3 or 4 I took him to the speech pathologist(a lovely and helpful lady) for assessment, where she showed him pictures and he told her what he saw. One of the cards was of a person ironing. I absolutely detest ironing and only do it for say, baptisms, weddings or sewing. All rare occasions. So, there I am shaking my head at the speech pathologist and she's insisting he answer with something, while he clearly has not a clue as to what's happening in this picture. His guess? "He's mowing his clothes". And there you have it folks, proof positive that I am not a housekeeper.