sewing...

Well, little number 3 got 'all washed up' this weekend, but leading up to it, I was itching to try a few tutorials that I've found online... the pictures are NOT great, and I didn't even get a picture of the baby in her matching outfit (after mass), but the main goal of this post is to link to some great tutorials that I recommend....

the girls skirt came from here

the rosette (which actually comes out MUCH smaller than the tutorial pictures would make you think, fyi) came from here

and little one's matching onesie/dress (not shown... I'll try to get a picture of her in it in the

next few days and update) was an interpretation (I didn't use elastic for the skirt, I just sewed a ruffle - one long running stitch set at highest tension and longest stitch, then pull the threads... next time the elastic may work better) from here

Happy sewing!

Seen & Not Heard?

My venting on this topic might go on for a bit, so if it is annoying you, please feel free to get on my case about it or ignore it... either way really does not bother me....

I'm thinking about that whole idea that children should be 'seen and not heard'... I'm thinking about it in a historical context that my experience can date back to my grandparents' generation. I'm certain my parents were raised with that mentality (lest grandpa make them go out and 'pick a switch'... no lie). In turn, my parents' generation raised their children in more of a 'live and let live' kind of world. I think my generation was the beginning of the 'raised with privilege' and 'everyone gets a trophy' and 'who cares about appropriateness, let the child EXPRESS him/her self' kind of world... in other words... spoiled.

I was one of the 'poor kids' growing up. At least, in my world I was a poor kid. I went to private school for 7 years and had to buy most of my clothes at Target and shoes from Payless. Occasionally we even shopped second hand! I didn't have a seperate playroom in my house, and I was 13 before I had my own tv (a black & white handmedown from my grandparents!!!!). We only went out to dinner once a week. I took tap lessons for one year and since my black tap shoes that my dad found at a garage sale were not the right color for our recital, my dad spray painted them white. Yup... we were POOR (she says in TOTAL jest).

Ya know what... growing up 'poor' brought a lot of perspective, as has my background in ministry. As Americans (oh how I could go on forever) we don't know the first thing about poor. I don't think I know a single person who has ever dug through trash for food. In fact, I don't know anyone who goes without 3 meals a day (even if those meals were bought with foodstamps, WIC, or other charitable means).

The gift of my children is such a tremendous blessing, and raising my children in a balance between 'seen and not heard' and 'spoiled' seems like the right way to go. I don't spank my children, but I also don't let them get away with murder. My girls have an entire bedroom full of (new)toys and closets that are filled mostly with handmedown clothes.

I heard a story once about an American bishop going to Africa and celebrating mass outdoors. He was struck with awe over how quiet and well-behaved the children were a strong contrast to the noisiness of his urban cathedral back in the states. Speaking to his brother bishop about it after mass he wondered at how families in Africa were able to raise their chidlren with so much respect and discipline while attending a long, hot Sunday mass. The African bishop replied that the children were so quiet because they had no energy because they were hungry.

Do those who attend mass and look down their noses at noisy kiddos not understand this concept? Have they never been a parent and don't know what a struggle it is just to find that delicate balance between squelching their curiousity and teaching them reverence? Or have they forgotten? Or was it beaten into them and they accept that as normal?

I make no claims at being perfect in any way, least of all in my parenting skills, but I AM trying. I don't judge, but I see a lot of others who don't try at all. Do my efforts count for anything? Is it fair to preach about how sinful it is, and a bad example to one's children, to skip Sunday mass, but then at the same time make those parents feel completely unwelcome in the parish... rather it isn't the parents who are unwelcome, just their kids.

Leavin' on a jet plane

Tomorrow I leave for St. Paul, MN to attend the NACFLM conference.  I've never been given the opportunity to travel in this job, mostly because I've been pregnant a significant portion of the time I've worked here.  I'm especially thrilled for this opportunity because of an NFP pre-conference all-day workshop I'll be attending, along with a number of keynote speakers that will be speaking (particularly Christopher West!).  Not only is this my first time to travel for my job, its also my first time to leave the state since I became pregnant with my oldest kiddo.  

Needless to say, I'm a little nervous.

Leaving my kiddos  w/my husband is not the scary part.  Leaving my kiddos is the scary part.  I haven't been away from them for more than 2 nights in their entire lives.  I know it will be great.  I know that absence makes the heart grow fonder.  I know that my plane won't crash...  but I can't help but be nervous about all of that.  

I booked into my trip nearly a full day with nothing to do, several stops are planned (including here and here).  We get to attend mass at the beautiful Cathedral one evening.  I know it will be great.  But... pray for me while I'm gone?  And... pray for my family while you're at it?

Great Advice

I love to read Memories on Clover Lane for this mom's fantastic views on parenting as a Catholic. Her photography is beautiful, her life is real, her children are animated and fabulous.

Read this today. You won't be sorry.

With Faith Like A Sponge

I don't know about you, but the world these days has me concerned. Killing, immorality, financial crisis, violence, health woes... if you turn on the news, prepare to feel blue.

But the reality is that tragedy is nothing new to our world, and suffering is something that God knows all too well.

Statistics show (and prove time and time again) that in times of crisis, people turn MORE towards faith, particularly here in our nation whenver financial problems arise. I think it has something to do with realizing what's really important, digging in deep and letting go of what's unnecessary, and clinging to that which you know will ALWAYS provide (your faith).

As I was scrubbing out my coffee mug (a task that was particularly difficult b/c our office is out of dish soap and there isn't money to buy more, without someone buying it personally... which hasn't been done... yet) this morning, I looked at the sponge in my hands and realized that I have a habit of squeezing the sponge tight before I run it under the fauce to absorb the water. Humanity is a lot like this. Its when we are squeezed tight, reach a point of struggle that we are then able to absorb and fully appreciate and take in our faith. From there we can do God's will better.

Scripture is FULL of struggle, but a particular Psalm brings me a lot of comfort and hope...
1
1 2 For the leader; according to "The deer of the dawn." A psalm of David.
2
My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Why so far from my call for help, from my cries of anguish?
3
My God, I call by day, but you do not answer; by night, but I have no relief.
4
Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the glory of Israel.
5
In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted and you rescued them.
6
To you they cried out and they escaped; in you they trusted and were not disappointed.
7
3 But I am a worm, hardly human, scorned by everyone, despised by the people.
8
All who see me mock me; they curl their lips and jeer; they shake their heads at me:
9
"You relied on the LORD--let him deliver you; if he loves you, let him rescue you."
10
Yet you drew me forth from the womb, made me safe at my mother's breast.
11
Upon you I was thrust from the womb; since birth you are my God.
12
Do not stay far from me, for trouble is near, and there is no one to help.
13
4 Many bulls surround me; fierce bulls of Bashan encircle me.
14
They open their mouths against me, lions that rend and roar.
15
Like water my life drains away; all my bones grow soft. My heart has become like wax, it melts away within me.
16
5 As dry as a potsherd is my throat; my tongue sticks to my palate; you lay me in the dust of death.
17
Many dogs surround me; a pack of evildoers closes in on me. So wasted are my hands and feet
18
that I can count all my bones. They stare at me and gloat;
19
they divide my garments among them; for my clothing they cast lots.
20
But you, LORD, do not stay far off; my strength, come quickly to help me.
21
Deliver me from the sword, my forlorn life from the teeth of the dog.
22
Save me from the lion's mouth, my poor life from the horns of wild bulls.
23
6 Then I will proclaim your name to the assembly; in the community I will praise you:
24
"You who fear the LORD, give praise! All descendants of Jacob, give honor; show reverence, all descendants of Israel!
25
7 For God has not spurned or disdained the misery of this poor wretch, Did not turn away from me, but heard me when I cried out.
26
I will offer praise in the great assembly; my vows I will fulfill before those who fear him.
27
8 The poor will eat their fill; those who seek the LORD will offer praise. May your hearts enjoy life forever!"
28
All the ends of the earth will worship and turn to the LORD; All the families of nations will bow low before you.
29
For kingship belongs to the LORD, the ruler over the nations.
30
9 All who sleep in the earth will bow low before God; All who have gone down into the dust will kneel in homage.
31
And I will live for the LORD; my descendants will serve you.
32
The generation to come will be told of the Lord, that they may proclaim to a people yet unborn the deliverance you have brought.
(emphasis is mine)


This psalm is the one that Jesus quotes when He is on the cross. During this time of lent (and particularly when we read the story of the Passion at mass on Palm Sunday and Good Friday- ok I know its not 'mass' on Good Friday) hearing this psalm offers me reassurance. One part of me thinks, if this is where Jesus found His inspiration in the greatest time of trial and suffering, then it must have something to offer me. And this Psalm does give us many reassurances. But it continues to remind me of what is most important... to Cry out to God, to Seek refuge in God, to Proclaim God's greatness, and to have Faith in God's mercy and love.

If our God can be the ultimate sacrifice for our sins, what sacrifices do I need to make in my life, to be worthy of God's greatness? If I am to receive Jesus in the Sacraments, how should I prepare my heart, mind, and spirit for Him? And, as a community of faith, what is my responsibility to those around me?

Lent 2009

Catholic Irony

Today is the feast of St. Blaise and I woke up this morning with a sore throat. St. Blaise is one of my favorite feast days. I'll be going to mass today and getting my throat good and blessed. Yay.

And for those who are curious, here is some information about St. Blaise that I am borrowing from ewtn's website:

Many Catholics might remember Saint Blaise's feast day, February 3, because of the Blessing of the Throats that take place on this day. Two candles are blessed, held slightly open, and pressed against the throat as the blessing is said. Very few facts are known about Saint Blaise. It is believed he was a bishop of Sebastea in Armenia who was martyred under the reign of Licinius in the early fourth century. The legend of St. Blaise tells us that he was born into a rich and noble family who raised him as a Christian. He became a bishop. Later, a new persecution of Christians began. He received a message from God to go into the hills to escape persecution. Hunters discovered a cave surrounded by wild animals who were sick. Blaise walked among them unafraid, curing them of their illnesses. The hunters recognized Blaise as a Bishop, so they captured him to take him back for trial. On the way back, he talked a wolf into releasing a pig that belonged to a poor woman. When Blaise was sentenced to be starved to death, the woman, in gratitude, sneaked into the prison with food and candles. Finally, the governor had Blaise killed. Saint Blase is the patron of physicians, sick cattle, wax- chandlers, woolcombers, and of wild animals because of his care for them and of those with throat maladies. He is invoked against afflictions of the throat (Bentley, Roeder). As one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers, Saint Blase was much venerated throughout Central Europe. In art he is a bishop with a metal comb and a tall candle. He may be shown in many different ways: (1) with crozier (pastoral staff) and two candles (no comb); (2) martyred by being torn with iron combs; (3) in a cave with wild animals; (4) discovered by hunters, a fawn near him (not to be confused with the monk, Saint Giles); (5) blessing the birds in front of a cave; (6) rescuing a poor woman's pig from a wolf; (6) saving the life of a boy who swallowed a fishbone; or (7) with the city of Dubrovnik in his hand or being carried over the city by angels (Roeder).