Hypocrite

My 14 year old came home from school the other day with the usual respond to "how was school?". Then I remembered to ask her the "new" question I have been trying to use, "tell me what you observed today."  Her response was, "I observed that I was angry because there is a bake sale for Planned Parenthood going on.  It is the most advertised bake sale I have seen and there are many groups involved.  I am really angry."  Oh!  Ouch!  So we talked about it.  I suggested she could always start a pro-life group at the school.  Her response was sobering, "Who would join?  They would just look at me like...." and she petered off.  I of course continued to toss and turn many thoughts in my mind.  Do other people spend so much of their time talking to themselves?  I wonder.  At first I was proud of her for her outrage.  But then I got kind of nervous.  She has the gumption to actually try to start a pro-life group.  Oh my!  Panic set in. She will be picked on and made fun of! She would not take that sitting down.  She would retaliate. Total High School Panic set in:  my mind-which goes from 0-60 on how bad something can be in a matter of seconds was reeling with unpleasant scenarios .   But what was more sobering was when I realized what a hypocrite I was.  I had just told my daughter to put herself on the line for her beliefs.  I had just told her to do what I am too much of a chicken to do.  WIMP!!!!  Why?  I had just seen a Pro-Abortion/Pro-Choice Facebook post that like my daughter made me angry and sad.  But I said nothing.  Whenever I see these post  I tell myself that "I don't want to make social-media political. It is not the venue for a true discussion, give and take of ideas.  It is fun and I enjoy it that way. Plus, people must know I am prolife, I change my pro-file picture on the anniversary of Roe v Wade."  And well, I am Catholic.   Really I am just a chicken.  I am too scared to respond because people won't like me, they may even unfriend me!!!  I will stand tall for my beliefs among a group of like minded people, I will stand on a street corner and pray in front of an abortion facility in front of strangers but I will not say what I believe in front of people that I know don't share my belief.  I am afraid of sounding idiotic in front of  friends and  family.   I need to get the thesaurus out and find more words for hypocrite.  Remember the rule our parents taught us?  You don't talk about religion, politics or money in polite conversation.

So I decided to poor myself a glass a wine and  ask the Holy Spirit to use me to say what He wanted said and do a blog post.  Big Chicken that I am.

Here is my train of thought and it is not a new train of thought either, it has been rattling around in my mind for awhile   (This is the musing blog remember).  How can any woman who has been pregnant and given birth support the killing of an innocent and defenseless baby?  Here is when people get angry and unfriend but if I am truly willing to die for Christ isn't this what it means?

 When I was a senior in college I remember having this debate with my my roommate who was very pro-life and a few other of us who were "pro-choice" side.  I knew the arguments, I knew the rhetoric, I was an enlightened college student. "Women would die without legal abortion, it is a woman's body, it is her decision, what about rape?  or serious disability? Or what about the woman's life?"  I even said, "I would never do it but it is not my decision for other women."   I knew it.  I believed it.  Plus there were more important things to worry about in the world: the environment, poverty, helping people.

Fast forward seven years.  After 4 pregnancy tests we finally accepted the fact that we were pregnant. (yes, it took us that many tests including one at the doctors to believe this had actually happened!  Now we know better.).   I can't say that I changed my beliefs over night.  What I can say is that if you follow the path  God has given you and you are open to His plan He will lead you and you will grow in His Grace.  God gave me the vocation of Motherhood.  And by saying yes to that vocation I have grown in ways I never would have imagined.  When you have a child you want the best for him/her.  That desire paired with an amazing church community spurred me on to asking questions as to why the church teaches what she does.  Instead of listening to sound bites or cultural knowledge on what the Church teaches I began to ask questions, read, study and learn.  And what I learned was amazing.  From the Church's beautiful teaching on sexuality, to St. John Paul the Great's "Feminine Genius", to recognizing the humanity of the persons (different ones, at different times) growing in me, my heart was soften. I also, through the years, read many different sources (both pro-life and pro-abortion) as to the history of the movement. Did you know Margaret Sanger was part of the Eugenics movement?  She wanted abortion available to poor and minority women so we could "weed out the undesirables".  And being the nerd that I am every time I was pregnant I read more and more about what was happening with my body and my baby's.  It is amazing.   My children challenge me daily to grow and become a better person.  From the moment of their conception every single one of them has helped me grow closer to God. EVERY SINGLE ONE: even the baby I miss carried two months ago, the night of the third presidential debate when the candidates were debating the humanity of the the unborn. The irony of that was not lost on me.

 My thoughts  continued to muse around in many different directions.  There are some people I know that will be upset  and angry by what I wrote.  There are some people I know who don't believe the same as me but they are also the ones I can sit with a cup a tea and really chew on this and discuss it.  I have always enjoyed those relationship.  We may disagree but we can discuss and learn from each other in a respectful atmosphere.   AHAH!   Isn't that what it is about?  Not tolerance as defined by our society but love and friendship because we are all brothers and sisters in Christ.  Why do we treat each other with respect?  Not because we tolerate each other.  Not because it is the nice  thing to do.  No, we love each other because we are made in the image and likeness of our God.  Each one of us.  Every single one of us on this planet (which is mind blowing) is made in the image and likeness of God.  Each one of us is loved by God.  And each one of us, BORN or UNBORN should be treated with respect, and love.  Simple as that.

And what about my 14 year old?  Oh boy!  I don't know what she will do.  But I will remind her of what I just said.  That we are all God's children.  Even though you may not agree or support what the bake sale entrepreneurs are doing.   You are still called to love, honor and respect them because they are your siblings in Christ.  You don't have to support their cause.  You don't have to like what they are doing.  You certainly don't have to buy their baked goods.  You can protest against the injustice you see.  But you always, always should remember to do it in love and say a prayer for them that their hearts will be soften.  

Easier said than done, I know.

As for me.  I need to take my own advise! Social media  may not be the venue to have these discussions but I should not fear standing up for what I believe as long as I too remember to do it in love.

Quiz

Here is a quick quiz for you today.  No worries, it will be easy.  Name two sounds that happen in the middle of the night that will rouse a mother for the deepest wells of sleep to an immediate fight or flight stance?

I am taking a poll.  I think answers are the phone ringing in the middle of the night and the sound of a child gagging (you know, that sound that lets you know something will be spewing any moment.).

When these two sounds happen a mother is battle ready in less than a nano second.  In the case of the phone a father will also react but I still think it is a second behind the mom.  In the case of the gagging,  well I would want to sleep through it if I could and I hold no grudges, it is just the way we are wired.

The day after the presidential election I, like so many other Americans, was walking around in a stupor.  But unlike most it was not because I stayed up all night watching the returns.  It was because I was rudely and brutally awakened by the two worse sounds you could here in the middle of the night.  11:30 pm I was jolted from the most wonderful sound sleep by the phone announcing "College Girl".  I was out of bed, heart in my throat and pounding wildly in my ears before the end of the first ring.  "WHAT'S WRONG!?" came out of my mouth and a silent "oh God, please" was offered up.  The answer was confusing the still asleep side of my brain.  "He is winning."

  "ARE YOU OK?" (and yes, I was shouting).

 "Yes, he is winning, people are cheering, people are crying."

 "WHAT?! ARE YOU OK?"

"Yea, oh, were you asleep?  I thought you would be watching the election."

And the conversation continued in this vain until my brain woke up enough to realize College Girl was very ok and was going to continue talking about this if I didn't put a stop to it immediately.  "Good night, I will talk to you tomorrow."

Poor husband was standing there as bewildered as myself and muttered, "what was that?"

"I don't know, something about Trump.  Go back to sleep, she is fine.  Though she won't be if she does that to us again."  Fortunately, I am  can fall back to sleep quickly if I haven't fully woken up.  My husband can not.

Fast forward 6 hours.  My subconscious recognized the sound of a child about ready to throw up and allowed me to scoop the five year old up and off his brother as he was climbing over him heading towards me before I was fully awake.  Get out of bed, scoop, turn away from bed, run while noting to self, "when did the 8 year old show up in the bed?"  Also pondering why the said 5 year old  passed the bathroom on the way to my room, gagging and heaving, to announce he did not feel well.  What is up with that?!  Luckily, it was a false alarm that produced no huge mess.  5:30 am perfect time to cook a 4 course breakfast for a very hungry and awake 5 year old.

I spent the rest of the day drinking lots of coffee and wondering how many hours of my life those two sounds stole from me.

Yesterday morning I found myself ALONE, in my HOUSE, for 4 + hours!  It was amazing.  It was quiet.  It was peaceful.  It was a gift.  After doing nothing for an hour except searching the internet for alternative presidential candidates (I am thinking of voting for Vermin Supreme-everyone gets a free pony and not brushing your teeth would be against the law! -Just kidding.  I think) I decided I needed to be productive during this time of uninterrupted bliss. Ah... what to do? Scrapbook?  Exercise?  Phone a friend?  NAH!  Wash the kitchen floor! Yes!!!  Whoa there Lynn!  You lead an exciting life.  Well, that's the thing right?  20 years ago I would have thought I was crazy.  But you realize that it is the simple things in life that really add to your joy and peace. I did something I don't get to do very often,  I put on some of my favorite music (no -NOT Bruce).  This artist is what my children refer to as "Mommy music."  And that she is.   If you have never heard Marie Ballet I would highly recommended her.  Her music speaks to a mother's soul no matter what stage of motherhood you are in.  Listening to her is a mini retreat.  It is a way to center yourself in what really matters.  She understands where you are coming from and she helps you move forward.  No matter how many times I listen to her there is always one or two songs that speak to me at that moment, that day, about where I am in my life.  I am reminded of God's love for me and how He has called me into this vocation.   I am renewed with strength. I washed and sang. I cried a little, And I thoroughly enjoyed myself.  Ahh.  I looked around my clean, sparkly domain and smiled with peace and success. I turned to leave the kitchen and tackle the next project, folding laundry, when I heard 5 people explode into the house with wet, muddy boots, and exclaim, "MOM! Where are you?"

If you have a chance today.  Take a listen to some of Marie's songs.  You won't mind when your clean kitchen floor has mud prints on it!

http://www.mariebellet.com/

The Macaroni and Cheese Moment

I have six children ranging in age from 5-19.  Except for the first two I like to say we were on the 3 year plan.  Several weeks ago I drove my oldest 10 hours away to begin her sophomore year in college.  When I returned home I sent the next oldest off for his senior year in highschool and the third child began her first year of highschool.  She had been homeschooled through eighth grade so this brick and mortar school was a big transition.  All this happened over a 4 day period.  As Man-Boy and his sister pulled out of the driveway I was quite pleased with myself.  I had handled all these milestone moments with no tears.  Well done Lynn.

The three remaining children and I began our day.  At lunch time the 11 year old went to make macaroni and cheese.  It was when she asked me how many boxes she should make that my world stopped for a second and I had to catch my breath.  When all the children are milling about the kitchen at lunch time we are up to 3 boxes of Annie's Mac & Cheese.  At that moment I looked at the faces in the kitchen and with an ache in my heart I whispered,  "just one".  Just one.  One box for three younger kids.  Only three children here right now.  The last time life looked like that we were on the "up" swing.  Three children and adding.  Now it seems we are 6 children and subtracting.  Well, this is certainly not how I had expected the day to go.  Ever since that moment I have been noticing the shifting of the rhythm of the house.  The highschool senior who is busy and mobile but who has always and still does his homework on the kitchen table.  How I love connecting with him then.  Even if we don't  (and usually we don't) talk.  The highschool freshman who is throwing herself into everything the highschool has to offer.  She has more guts in her pinky finger than most adults have in their whole lives.  The 11 year old who is stepping up as oldest in our one class school room. And the little (not really little) boys.  What a gift they are to me.  I still have little ones to snuggle.  I try to stop and watch the wonder of exploring and discovery in their eyes.  It aches to know this time is soon fading.

When I was a new mom there was a book that circulated around my La Leche League friends.  I can't remember the name but I do remember the "macaroni & cheese" moment in the book.  The author talked about how she realized what her life as a mother was when she was picking up macaroni & cheese from the floor for the millionth time.  How things come full circle.

Living the Call.

Quick note.  I found yesterday's reading from Ephesians to be an apt addition to this blog.  As I muse on motherhood I need to " live in the manner worthy of the call I have been given." I need to remember that this is not a random life I am living.  I have been given this great gift.  This family of 6 children, with their ups and downs, strengths and weaknesses to guide back to their heavenly father.  This is no small task.  Thankfully,  I have been paired with this generous man for this task.  We have been called, by God.  Singled out.  YOU Lynn, no slouching over there.  I need you to do this for me.  Will you?  Will you give it your all?  Will it hurt? Will it be hard? Yup.  But I need YOU.  I have given this call  to you and no one else.  Only you can do it.  Don't just let it happen.  But live your life, your vocation, in manner that is worthy to the call.  Remember "grace was given to each of us according to the measure of Christ's gift."

Well then.  Onward and upward.  Another day.  Homeschooling, making dinner, washing dishes, folding laundry, playing a game, driving to the tutor or orthodontist and all the other ordinary things.  They are not so ordinary anymore because of who called me to do them.

Have a blessed day and live according to the call you have been given.

Brothers and sisters:
I, a prisoner for the Lord,
urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received,
with all humility and gentleness, with patience,
bearing with one another through love,
striving to preserve the unity of the Spirit
through the bond of peace:
one Body and one Spirit,
as you were also called to the one hope of your call;
one Lord, one faith, one baptism;
one God and Father of all,
who is over all and through all and in all.

But grace was given to each of us
according to the measure of Christ’s gift. 

And he gave some as Apostles, others as prophets,
others as evangelists, others as pastors and teachers,
to equip the holy ones for the work of ministry,
for building up the Body of Christ,
until we all attain to the unity of faith
and knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood,
to the extent of the full stature of Christ.

Hello

What? Another blog on mothering? Really?  What else can be said?  Not much probably.  But this has been something that has been rambling around in my mind for a couple years. Not that I have anything stellar or novel to say about motherhood.  I am claiming absolutely, positively, no expertise at all.  No advise.  More a place to put all the thoughts that ramble around in my head  in hopes that when I go to bed at night those voices will be quiet!  (Both the voices in my head and the 7 other people in my house!). That being said I had two people recently tell me I should write a blog (they didn't know I was thinking about it for two years).  Granted one was my daughter and the other one of my best friends so at first I dismissed them because I thought they were bias. Then I realized they were two of the people I can count on to tell me when not to do/wear/say something.  Then today I was electronically chatting with another friend (I miss face to face chats).  We were talking about our college children and he mentioned something like "college freshman always know what they want see how it changes in 4 years." Which got me thinking. ( Ah here is the musing part.)
Not my daughter.  The soon to be college sophomore has things pretty well planned out and I think it will take an act of God to change her plans.  More musings and a chuckle.  Kind of like her mother.

Yes, I had it all planned out.  And for awhile the forces to be, that would be God, went along with my plan or I more than likely went along with His.  I went to college and before I even got there I knew I was going to graduate school.  I found a major that had to have a master's degree in order to have a career. I found a grad school that had an internship program with an affiliation with a large Boston teaching hospital so I could then make connections and get a job at a Boston Hospital.  Plan worked.  Marriage should come next.  Check.  Children. Check. Career, children and maybe a Ph.D. was the plan. I came of age in the 80's.  You know.  Women, we could and should do all those things.  And we could do it smoothly.  And we would be happy.  Because, you know, we could have it all. And so that was the plan.  Except as of January 2, 1997 there was this 6 lb. 12 oz.  baby girl who greeted me with these beautiful insightful eyes that bore into my soul and my plan and I struggled.  We really struggled.  And we have been struggling ever since.  Who am I?  What am I? How can I teach my daughters to be strong independent women if I am "just a stay at home mom?"  How can I teach them to "reach for the stars" (as my dad taught me), if I don't have a career? If I am not making a difference ,a real impact for good in the world?

So I went from full time working woman with career ambitions to half time working mom, with one child who  hated ever minute because she felt like she was giving less than her best to family and work.  Then to full time stay at home mom who dabbled in speech therapy every once in awhile and became a La Leche League leader because that would be a good step to becoming a lactation consultant, when the kids got older.  I could then work in a NICU and really make a difference and help people.  So when baby number three was about to start preschool it was time to get back to work part time.  Start slow.  But start again.  Ok.  The plan was back on track.  I had goals, things to do, things to achieve, letters to add after my name!  Except, my plan apparently wasn't His plan.  I got this crazy idea to homeschool  (and that is another story!).  And then I was pregnant with number 4!  Then number 5.  And oh my gosh, yes, number 6!!!

Let me tell you I have no plans anymore.  I don't and can't even plan dinner most nights.  And yet I still struggle.  I struggle with the idea that I should be "doing something." Yes, I know raising 6 kids is doing something. Making sure all children get to where they need to be and are home safe and sound at the end of the day is doing something. Teaching my children is doing something.  But it is not, in the eyes of most, something with a capital S.  And that is what I still struggle with.  Is that vanity and pride?  Probably. Through the grace of God I have grown and embraced this vocation of motherhood.  These 6 blessings God has given me is the only way that I could get out of the way to let God in.  I know that in my head.  I am grateful every day for being able to be home full time with my children. Homeschooling them has been an incredible journey.  This is were I am meant to be.  This is God's plan for me.  And that is all I can speak of.  Yet....when my sister in law got her Ph.D. this year I was thrilled for he, but, true confession, I cried for myself.  I get annoyed when the Alumni magazine comes in and it has write ups with all these amazing alumni with amazing things they are doing.  When are they going to call ME?  

 So I still struggle.  But maybe not so much any more.  Maybe it is more like musings.  Thinking and being.   Trying to appreciate the moment.   Trying to be open to what life and God has to give me.  Maybe that is the new plan.  Or at least I am going to try.  It has only taken me 19+ years.

So join me and the voices in my head as I muse on motherhood.

Thanks!

p.s.  FYI- because I am not fooling myself and definitely not God,  writing a blog is "doing something."  shhh....don't tell.