Blueberry Island

I wonder if other mothers of "large families"(I say large family with a grain of salt) feel like they have two or more mini families within the context of the one family? In my mind I tend to "chunk" the children into the "olders" and "youngers". Or the parents of the children into the "younger selves" and "the not so younger  selves". I wonder if other families struggle with providing space for all the children, regardless of the age differences, opportunities to connect?

When we started homeschooling we had three children: 7, 5, 2 years in age, with a baby on the way. Our first few years of schooling was with a baby in tow. Actually up until 5 years ago there was always a "baby in tow". What I am trying to get at is that we did things as a family/school that sometimes I forget to do with this second group of children. "What do you mean you have never been to.....fill in the blank?" "Of course we did......X,Y,Z!"

Sometimes I feel disappointed in myself, or lacking because I can't guarantee they all have the same experiences. I intellectually know that is not possible or necessary.  Oh, but a Mother's heart can wreck havoc with guilt.

Last week I had a moment when these family factions seemed to converge (through no effort on my part) and merge into one cohesive experience that all the children have shared throughout the years.  I spent some time musing about this as I went about my day. I think people whose children all go through the same schools may have these occurrences naturally but my children don't always share the same milestone school experiences. What we do have and what connected it all for me was "Blueberry Island" and "Miss Heather".

Miss Heather runs nature classes in our area. She started her classes about the same time we started homeschooling. We heard she did some wonderful things with the children AND once a month my non babies would be in class with her for 5 hours! They learned about our local environment but mostly they were outside exploring with her all day. All 6 children, in different groupings, have taken classes with Miss Heather. Right now it is just the 2 youngest, the 6 and 9 year old.

When I picked the boys up the other day Miss Heather talked about  the fun hike they had to Blueberry Island. Blueberry Island is the highlight of the class!  She explained that she tells all her students  how,  Alec, (my almost 19 year old) was the first to "discover" Blueberry Island and he was the one who started building the bridge to the island. This was 10 or more years ago! She talked about how my younger boys love to hear the story of what Alec did! What I shared with Miss Heather was this. At Christmas time I overheard all 6 children talking about Blueberry Island and their experiences there. They were chatting and laughing. The "bigs" were telling about what they did at Blueberry Island, and how they were the ones who got to name it! The "Littles" were sharing their recent stories.

What was I doing through all this? Listening and smiling!  Feeling grateful for Miss Heather and Blueberry Island for this experience that all the children could share together. For a moment I was not worried that the older children and the middle children had nothing in common. So what if some children may not have been to the Children's Museum or the zoo, or whatever ever else I have missed along the way?  In reality, the children who did do those things may not even remember what they did! But what they all remember is Blueberry Island! Even if they were not physically there at the same time they have experienced it together!

Advent

Twenty one Advents ago I finally "got it".  I finally understood the true meaning of waiting.  Not the waiting for Santa to bring you presents excitement that you had when you were a child.  But the waiting for the beginning of something more than what currently was.  Twenty one Advents ago I was waiting for our first child to be born (supposedly on Christmas Eve-but January 2 she finally arrived).  All my life I have had a special love for the Blessed Virgin Mary.  That Advent it was intensified.  We waited together for the birth of our children.  I asked Mary to help me as my apprehension grew and I prayed a Hail Mary through EVERY major contraction.  I looked up during transition and my nurse was wearing a pin from Medjugorje.  Mary has always been with me, leading me and guiding me in my faith.

As I grew in Motherhood I continued to look toward Mary for guidance. The love a mother has for her children gives us a small inkling in how much  Mary loves us but more than that how much our Heavenly Father loves us.  It is humbling.  However, since this is a mothering blog I am going to continue my focus on Mary.  As I birthed, nursed, and cared for more children one part of the Infancy Narratives began to annoy me.  (Yes, I just said something in the gospels annoyed me, but I haven't been struck down yet.) It was the part about swaddling Jesus and placing him in the manger. My La Leche League friend will understand this train of thought even if others don't.  All I kept thinking was "REALLY!? No way did Mary put down her brand new baby!  She  kangaroo cared him, nurse him on demand, and wore him 24/7. The gospel writers were OBVIOUSLY men!" This line of thought continued until this Advent.  Mary, who has always guided me to her son was probably finally fed up with my fresh, arrogant attitude and was ready to set me straight.

A few weeks ago I started reading The Life of Mary as Seen by the Mystics.  My almost 21 year old gave it to me a couple years ago and I never got around to reading it, until now. Coincidence, I think not.  Although I am enjoying the book it is a slow read: not because it is difficult to understand but because each chapter leads you to ponder or muse.  I really need to sit with what I have read before I move on.  Last week I got to the infancy narrative.  Here we go I thought.  How could she put him down?  In a manger no less!  It was cold! The hay was itchy!  He was just born! He needed his mother! I don't get it. Well, this my friends is Mary's job: to help us "get it".  We Catholic are mistakenly accused of worshiping Mary. We don't.  We venerate her as the Mother of God.  We ask for her intercession with her son.  And her job, her motherly vocation has always, from the beginning, been to lead us to her son; to point us in his direction and say, "Look, there is your Savior.  Adore Him.  Love Him. Trust Him."  As I was reading and musing I finally got it (again).  In my minds eye I saw Mary loving put the Son of God in the manger,  next to her stood Saint Joseph and next to the manger was the Monstrance (the Monstrance is the vessel used in the Catholic Church to hold the Consecrated Eucharist). Just to be clear, there was no mystical vision here just an "aha" moment. I finally understood why Mary placed Jesus in the manger. The manger and the Monstrance are one. When we bow before the Monstrance we praise and adore our God.  Mary placed Jesus in the manger so we ALL could bow and adore our God.  The lyrics "O, come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord" took on a fuller, richer, meaning.   Mary once again points us to Jesus as she and St. Joseph invite the shepherds, the wise men, the animals and all of us to adore Jesus.  I know priest have been pointing this out every Christmas mass I have ever gone to but isn't amazing when you finally, finally "get it"?  Once again Mary took my hand and led me where I needed to be:  kneeling before her son adoring Him.

May your Advent be blessed as you wait to adore Christ the Lord!

The sandwich phone call

I had the funniest phone call this week from my college girl.  She called to inform me that her sister, the sophomore in highschool, needed a sandwich.  College Girl lives 10 hours away! I was so taken aback that I was speechless for a moment.  I informed the college girl that I was not home and had no way of getting said sandwich her sister.  The ever resourceful College Girl quickly dismissed me to call her grandmother for help.  Grandmothers never say no.  When I got off the phone I started laughing.  The whole interaction last less than a minute.

As I was driving home and thinking about the phone call I started grinning.  I was so happy.  My husband and I try to instill in our children the realization that even though these people you share small spaces with annoy you beyond belief they are going to be the ones that have your back ALWAYS.  I am sure my children are sick of hearing me say, "when I am gone, these are the ones who will be there for you no matter what."  A household with 6 children ages 6-20 and all the chaos that goes along with varying dynamics a mother (or at least this mother) worries that her children will grow up, grow away and not like each other. But that brief phone call gave me hope that, maybe, just maybe, we are doing something right and they will take care of each other and like each other!

The highschool girl could not call me and I did not see her text.  Usually, she would have skipped lunch but she had to stay after school until 6 pm for play practice; she was in a panic..  She texted the person she knew would get a hold of me no matter what.  Each child has his own ring tone on my cell phone so if I hear it I know to answer.  College Girl's ring tone at an odd hour would cause me to excuse myself from the activity I was engaged in and answer the phone.  College Girl knew her sister was in a panic and this need to be taken care of.   College girl is great at trouble shooting.  Thank goodness my mom lives in town!

It was a simple thing.  The girls have probably forgotten about it.  But for me it was huge.  It warmed my heart and made my day.  I still smile when I think of it.  Someday, they will realize that the greatest gift they ever received was the gift of each other.  For a mother there is no great sense of accomplishment.

Breaking Hearts

I am sitting here with a blank screen, a quiet house,  a head swirling with thoughts and a heart overfilled with emotion.  We dropped our second oldest of at college a week ago today and I am still trying to put it all together.

The day before he left was a grace filled day.  A gift from God.  Actually, all days are a gift from God but we aren't always in the right space to appreciate that or be tuned into it.  Thankfully, I was on that day.  It was nothing extraordinary which was what made it so beautiful.  Our oldest had already left for her Junior year at college and the third was at her second day of sophomore year of highschool.  The soon to be college boy was packing up, running errands, asking advice on classes.  The younger three were happy playing together (miracle!) but then big brother suggested they play a board game.  Joy was abundant.  I was pouring all my emotion into making a perfect dinner for my son.

At one point College Girl called to chit chat, the highschooler returned home, the others were laughing in another room and I was over come with gratitude, joy and love.  After hanging up the phone I stood at my kitchen sink with tears pouring down my face.   How blessed I was!  A mother's heart swells with unconditional love to the point that it breaks into a million pieces and is scattered throughout the world.  My heart was breaking.  My world was changing.  Transition was happening. It was and is the hardest thing we have to do as parents.  (And I have to do it 4 more times!!!)  But it is inevitable.  We must let our hearts break so we can send that love out into the world.  And, by the the grace of God, if we have let our hearts love to the point of breaking we have done our job well.

Burnout

"Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened,

and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me,

for I am meek and humble of heart;

and you will find rest for yourselves. 

For my yoke is easy, and my burden light."

This gospel reading is one of my favorites.  It is something I should read every day.  It was my push to tackle one of the topics on my MUSING list: burnout.  I started writing this last week after hearing this gospel at Mass.  Yet, I couldn't get my thoughts together in a coherent fashion.   I have been somewhat quiet on the blogging lately . Instead of something I wanted to do it felt more like something I had to do.  The ideas are there swirling as always.  I jot them down in a notebook.  The thought of writing has been overwhelming.  But then again everything has felt overwhelming the past couple of months.  We leave for our family trip in two weeks and I just finished making reservations which for me is unheard of as planning our trips has always put a spark in my step.  But this year it felt like one more thing on the to do list that I didn't want to do.  We could just have a staycation!

Let me start by saying it was a wet, wet, dreary spring here.  It seems as if we slogged through May and June, not just in the weather but also with finishing up with school.  We fizzled out the school year like a firecracker that would not pop.  I couldn't figure out why everything we did felt like we were walking through mud.  My mind was so bogged down with thoughts that I couldn't think.   A friend who also felt the same way suggested:  "Maybe it is burnout."  Hmmm.  That thought took root and I realized I had felt this way before.  My second year of graduate school.  I was SO DONE!  Being an over achiever in highschool and college left me feeling very burnt out by the time I need ed to  buckle down and focus on my studies.  If it wasn't my wonderful roommates who refused to let me quit and the fact I had no idea what else I could do I am not sure I would have continued.  But I wasn't enjoying my academic experience at all. 

Now that I knew what I was dealing with what was I going to do about it?  It was still early June and I realized I was  desperately  hanging on for the two day get away that my hubby and I had planned at the end of June.  The first hot day of June I called summer vacation and said I did not want to talk about school or think about school for awhile.  I found myself on a reading frenzy like I haven't done in a long time (5 books in 2 weeks-none of them about school, children, marriage, faith, health or anything of social significance).  

Remember when I started this blog I said I had no words of wisdom or advice on mothering.  Well, if you were hoping for some ideas on how to handle burnout I will refer you back to that post.  I got nothing.  I wish I had something.  But as the summer is plodding along I am grateful for summer and the change of pace it gives us.  And sun.  Glorious sun!  

The two night overnight with my husband was pampering beyond belief.  I did feel so much better when I returned.  I felt as if I was able to stop thinking for a couple days and just be.  I have tried to up my exercise routine this summer.  I have, like I said, lost myself in reading (my ultimate coping mechanism).  I have decided I need to play more with my kids.  Seriously, I am with them all the time but I let the "I got to do this list" over reach itself.  The list will never be finished.  The kids won't always be kids who want to play.  I have rediscovered the joy in the play (though DO NOT ask me to play any strategy games that take days -no joy there).  I have slowly started thinking about the up coming school year, but that still causes me much anxiety.  12 years of homeschooling you would think I would have a clue.  And I think  have come to the core root of my "burnout".  It is not homeschooling, or having 6 children, or having too many activities, or not exercising enough, or not playing enough or not spending enough time with my husband.  It is thinking too much about all the things I just listed.  Because the thinking kicks into a pattern of over thinking.  Over thinking is when I question everything and trust nothing.  Over thinking takes me off the path and leads me down so many twisted roads and many dead ends.  This is when I feel weary and over burdened.  When I feel no rest.  I know what I should do.  I know I should go to God and give all my burdens to Him and ask for rest but I don't.  I keep them to myself thinking I can handle it.  Plus, I don't want to bother God with my daily struggles, need to save Him for the "big stuff".  Yet, it is the daily struggles of our vocation that become the big burdens if we don't hand them over.  It is the day to day stuff that burns us out.  When I think of the bible passage I quoted I always have a picture of a farmer in my mind.  Shouldn't that clue me into the fact that God wants our day to day, routine, boring, same old same old struggles? What is more routine than a farmer's life?

I read once (back when I was reading parenting/schooling books) about a Mom who didn't know what to do for the coming school year with her children because they all had such different needs.  So she did exactly what the Gospel said.  She went to adoration and placed each child's need in God's hands.  She came up with her curriculum choices by listening to God in adoration.  

I really do know what I need to do to combat burnout.  Vacation, playing, organizing, exercising those are all  pieces to the puzzle but the puzzle will not be finished unless I go rest in God.  I need to go to adoration and sit with Jesus in silence.  Now that I said it out loud (or online) I hopefully will do it.  Even if one of my 10 blog readers asks me about how it is going it will keep me accountable!  Maybe! ?  Say a pray for me and join me in the adoration chapel combating burnout.  

Things I will not miss

Over the years I have made a mental list of things I will ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY, not miss about having little kids.  Sometimes things went on the list and came off again after the moment of insanity passed.  However, at this point in my parenting career I am quite confident about the following three things.

1.  Dressing the under 6 crowd for the snow. Getting a young jello like body stuffed into snow gear takes at least 20 minutes only to be rewarded with said child announcing the immediate need to use the bathroom. When the children are finally outside you have just enough time to make a cup of tea(but not drink it) before they come back in expressing dissatisfaction with the cold and looking for hot chocolate.

2.  Staying with the weather related theme let's talk sunscreen.  The appearance of a sunscreen bottle causes young children to go running and screaming in the other direction.  When you finally catch the child (grateful at least that you had a sprint work out running after the darling) you are afraid someone is going to call the police because it sounds as if you are ripping your child's fingernails out.  It only gets better when the tears combine with the sunscreen trickle into your prisoner 's eyes causing more wailing from both parent and child.

3.  Last but not least: tooth brushing.  We have been brushing other peoples teeth for 20 years now!  When I think about that, well my mind just kind of explodes.  Again, with the sounds of torture and me saying, EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, "If you would just cooperate we would be done by now."   Luckily, we are finally at the point of only one tooth brushee but some nights I don't know who is screaming louder the  6 year old or me.  Last night he sincerely stated to my husband, "Mom likes brushing my teeth"  and looked aghast when I maniacally laughed.  My reply was something that resembled the saying, "this hurts me more than you."

So there you have it.  How about you?  Just remember, eventually, this too shall pass and or at least that is what I keep telling myself.

Mother's Day

A mothering blog would not be complete without a post about Mother's Day.  The funny thing about Mother's Day is that in our family it was never really about my mom.  My Dad's birthday is May 8 so Mother's Day and his birthday always coincided.  And truth be told, my mom always got the short end of the stick in that deal.  Sorry Mom! My dad passed away 5 years ago. He turned 89 on May 8, died on May 10 and we had his wake on Mother's Day!  Again, he stole the show.  But that was my dad and I wouldn't have expected anything else from him.

 Mother's Day, my dad's birthday, anniversary (because people don't say "death date"), and my two youngest children's birthdays all take place within an 8 days.  It is a whirl wind of musing during those 8 days. An example of the circle of life taking place each year before my eyes.  But now with time I can celebrate the life  and joy of it all.

The story I want to share with you started 6 years ago, on May 10.  I was several days past my due date with our youngest child.  At 42 with 5 other children I was beyond exhausted.  I was swept up with an overwhelming need to sleep, which I did, only waking when I received a phone call from my mom.  Dad was being rushed to the hospital in Boston.  He had requested a DNR (do not resuscitate).  They were not sure what was going on.  As I sat there listening to my mom I realized that there was no physical way I could make it to the hospital.  When I had awoken from my sleep induced coma I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the baby was coming within the next 24 hours, probably sooner.  As I hung up the phone I whispered one desperate word into God's ear, "please!" then I fell back to sleep.

Our faith tells us that God answers our prayers in a way that is best for our spiritual growth.  They are often not answered in the way we intended, in the time frame we wanted or with the out come we had hoped.  Prayers for intentions are not wishing well requests.  We don't always understand the outcome of our requests but we trust, in faith, that God know best and some day the whole picture of our lives will be painted for us and we will see what it all means.  Until then we trust and pray and at times if we are lucky we get a glimpse of what that painting will look like.  When our petitions are answered in such a clear way  we eternally grateful because it boosts our faith. For me,  God heard that simple yet heartfelt request. Even though I did not know what I was requesting He did and He answered it in such a beautiful way.

I gave birth to our youngest son early the next morning on May 11.  Dad was in the hospital.  I was recovering from birth.  The ability to help my parents was completely out of my control.  All I could do was pray.

Fast forward one year.  Dad celebrated his 89th birthday in the hospital after a minor surgery that he was predicted to fully recover from. Two days later, on May 10, while I was at the photographers for my soon to be 1 year old's only professional baby picture, my mom called to say Dad was not doing well and they were putting him on hospice care.  This was out of the blue and completely confusing.  A phone call with the nurses confirmed that Dad was not going to live through the night.  My husband was on his way home but I realized that I was not going to make it to my Dad before he died.  I gathered my six children around me and explained what was going on. Together we prayed a Divine Mercy Chaplet.  My mother called a few minutes after we were done to tell us Dad had passed.  Although I was upset because I was not with my mom and dad my children praying with me at the time of their grandfather's passing is one of the most beautiful experiences of my life.  I hope for my children it is a solid faith memory.

The next day my then 1 year old and I spent the day with Mom making funeral arrangements. At the end of the day we went home  to eat cake and  icecream, open presents and sing Happy Birthday. The tears spilled, well flooded, from my eyes.  Tears of sorrow but also tears of gratitude.  I realized how my simple "please" had been answered.  Dad met his youngest grandchild.  They had a year together.  Although my son would not remember his grandfather he is part of the family memories of him.  That year had been a gift to us all.  

Like I said we spent Mother's Day at Dad's wake.  We didn't think many people would show up because it was Mother's Day and we were understanding about that.  We were wrong.  Dad filled the place as only he could while Mom and I joked about how he hijacked Mother's Day again.  But really, we didn't care.  We were surrounded by all the people that loved Dad, including his one year old grandson.  What a better Mother's Day gift could we ask for?

May you have a blessed Mother's Day!