Big-Bummed Babies

I was the sixth of eight babies born to cloth-diapering parents. I still remember the diaper pail that was part of the décor in the first floor bathroom. I remember my confusion the first time I changed a disposable diaper. I didn’t know what to do without pins or folds or diaper covers. After the youngest grew out of diapers, they continued to be a part of our everyday lives as we used them for cleaning rags. Now that I am married, and have my first child, we are continuing the tradition. When people ask why, I tell them that cloth diapering (or CD) is not only cost effective, and environmentally friendly, but also happens to be the most organic way to keep a baby’s bum clean and dry. Once considered a necessity only for the financially struggling, cloth diapers have taken on a new image as the hip mom’s newest baby accessory. It isn’t hard to pick out a CD baby as they squirm across the floor, with their behinds high in the air, twice the size of their head, or the clumsy new walker who’s every fall is absorbed by the abundant fluffiness of their tush pillow. However good these reasons may be to CD, I must admit that I take a certain delight in watching people squirm when they try to envision themselves washing used diapers. As determined I am to save money, recycle, and integrate more natural habits into our everyday lives, having the ability to push people out of their comfort zones and break old stereotypes, remain my motivation for staying the course and doing my part to bring back the big- bummed babies.

Lessons from Robinson Crusoe

I have been reading Robinson Crusoe along with the student who I am tutoring and am amazed by the gems of wisdom and insight I am constantly encountering. Although I have read this book before, it has been several years and this time I am getting so much more out of it. It has really renewed in me a grateful spirit for the abundance of things I am blessed to have. I have also become more aware of how much I take for granted.

Here's a few lines to ponder:

"All our discontent about what we want
springs from our ingratitude for what we have."

"We never know how to value what we enjoy, except by
the lack of it."

In light of the recent events in Haiti especially, we have much to be grateful for.

Catholic Covering Conundrum

Since we began attending the Tridentine Mass at our parish a year and a half ago, I have found myself in the midst of a personal struggle. I had to face my true feelings about chapel veils. My past exposure to them had left me with a mixed impression. The women who I had seen wear them were either in their 70s or above and had probably just never stopped wearing them, or they were, to be blunt, socially awkward, jean skirt and flannel wearing coeds who majored in the classics and probably spoke fluent Latin. I didn't feel I really fit into either category.

But the women of St. Joseph's broke my past stereotypes. There were women in their 80s down to toddlers who were veiled. I noticed even mothers of babies managed to wear them. Despite the fact that I wasn't a veil-wearer, I was warmly welcomed by all the parishioners and never felt snubbed or judged for not conforming to the custom of the majority. Not every woman in our parish covered her head and there was no pressure of obligation or expectation that I immediately begin this practice. However, the more I witnessed it, the more attractive it became to me. Around this time, our son Joseph was born and any thought of taking up the practice of head covering was dispelled as I adjusted to caring for a newborn at Mass. I finally decided it wasn't practical for me to wear a head covering as Joseph would constantly be pulling it off and it would become more of a distraction to me and others. Having this logical excuse, I felt the issue was settled and I stopped thinking about it.

But then God kept sending me little reminders, such as our friend Jeremy, who isn't Catholic but comes from a traditional Christian denomination and has come to Mass with us a few times. Every time he would ask me why I wasn't veiled. It wasn't an accusation-he was just curious and actually really admired the practice. I always told him that with Joseph it was just too hard. As time went on I became less satisfied with this answer as day after day I sat behind women of numerous children including babies who covered their heads. One day I noticed that there were many styles of head coverings-the lace mantillas, the small, circular chapel veils, and the head scarves which wound around the shoulders. The head scarf jumped out at me as the least intrusive because when it did slip off the head, it came down to rest on the shoulders and easily could be restored to its proper position without any pinning or elaborate arm gestures. "That's the style I would wear if I were to wear a veil" I thought to myself. (Obviously, this issue had me a little preoccupied)

Then advent rolled around and we began our spiritual preparations for Christmas. In prayer I began to ask Christ to show me something that I could do for him for his birthday which would please him. Nothing struck me immediately so I just kept it in prayer as advent continued. Then one day I was talking with one of the young ladies from our parish who I tutor and who also happens to wear the style of head scarves that I liked and I asked her where she got hers. This led to a whole discussion on the topic and I realized what was holding me back-I was afraid of what others would think. I didn't want to start wearing one to fit in, or to appear more pious, or even to pacify Jeremy. I needed to be convicted personally. Through the witness of my student and an article which Brian had me read, I came to realize the meaning behind it and with this understanding, I also knew what God desired of me. Now, when I go into church and cover my head, it is a reminder to me that I am in the very presence of my God and King and helps me to humble my heart and bow my head in reverence and worship. It is a physical expression of submission to my Lord. As my student had explained to me, it is an aid to worship rather than a distraction from it. Never would I have guessed what a profound impact it could make on my prayer life. This simple yet ancient custom has helped me to focus my prayerful participation in the Mass and deepen my Catholic identity. So for those of you born post Vatican II who would like to know more about veiling, I challenge you to read the link below and prayerfully consider what God desires of you.

http://www.latin-mass-society.org/wearmantilla.htm

Quiet Moments

Before I became a mother, quiet moments for me were times for prayer, reflection, reading and study. These were times to calm the soul and renew one's mind. Now with a very active 10 month boy in the home, quiet is no longer a call to contemplation, but rather a signal to alert that something is wrong. When the house is quiet it can mean only one of two things-Joseph is asleep or Joseph is up to no good.

Instead of that old peaceful feeling, silence now fills me with dread. I never know what I might find. Did we forget to close the bathroom door and Joseph is splashing around in the toilet bowl? Or did we forget to close the washer door and Joseph is sucking on the inner rubber seal? Is he in the bedroom chewing on the cell phone charger cord or emptying the contents of all the dresser drawers?

Gone are the days of carefree silences, but that's alright, it sure keeps life interesting around here.

Blogging Hiatus

I'm afraid I have neglected this blog shamefully the past few weeks. Not for lack of interesting things happening to write about, but more because of the busyness of this time of year. I just finished our Christmas letter and all that writing has sparked in me a desire to return to my musings...

Wills and All Souls Day

Today we remember and pray for all the souls of the faithfully departed. I just so happen to also be working on our wills this morning. There is nothing like drawing up a will to make you face the reality and certainty of death. Although Brian and I pray we have many years before any of this will need to be enacted, it is quite something to ponder the fact that this will is necessary as someday we'll die.

In no way is this a pleasant task, to think about where one wants to be buried and how to establish a trust for your child's care, but at the same time, this is a way in which we are showing our love by making sure everything is taken care of in the best way possible rather than leaving everything (including Joseph's care) to be decided by the courts since we failed to leave instructions.

It is amazing how having a child suddenly motivates you to think beyond the moment to the unpredictable future. As parents, we have moved beyond the invincible mentality of youth, to the responsible maturity of adulthood. We now have life insurance policies in place, are working on our wills, power of attorney designations and will to live forms. Now more than ever, it is crucial not to leave these decisions in the hands of the state or strangers, and to make sure the people you love and trust know exactly what your wishes are.

Some people put these things off because they feel uncomfortable thinking about their deaths and the possible circumstances which may surround it. For me, however, I find myself more and more uneasy until all of these forms are completed and filed.
I look forward to the peace of mind it will bring me to have these details sorted out.

I pray for all my loved ones who have gone before me, and draw inspiration from their own examples of responsibility and faithfulness. Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. Amen.

Christ Our King

Traditional Catholics who follow the old calendar celebrate the Solemnity of Christ the King today. Pius XI established this feast on December 11, 1925 and commanded it to be celebrated on the last Sunday of October, immediately before the celebration of All Saints. We are blessed to have the Tridentine Mass at our parish every Thursday evening and Sunday morning. Although I did not grow up with this Mass, I have come to love it and have found a richness within the liturgy and traditions of old that I am only just now discovering.

When I entered Church this morning, I noticed that the main altar was draped in gold-signifying the celebration of a high feast. But it wasn't until Father pointed it out in his homily that I realized the statue of the Sacred Heart which is centered on the side right altar, was draped in the same rich, gold, priestly vestments which our pastor wore. This caught me a bit off guard as I had never seen such a practice before. However, it visually drove home the significance and meaning of the feast we are celebrating-Christ our Lord and King. What a beautiful, lost tradition! Now many Catholics and non-Catholics alike may find this confusing and maybe even offensive. It is important to understand that this is not an idolatrous practice but rather a tangible reminder to us all of the dominion that Christ is to have in our lives and throughout the world. We know that this statue is not Christ, and we do not worship it. A picture is worth a thousand words however when it comes to expressing a belief and teaching of the Church.

I feel as if I am constantly discovering old traditions and devotions tied to the old calendar and liturgy. It makes me wonder why so much was discontinued after Vatican II-we have lost so much depth and knowledge for the sake of simplicity! As a result, I fear most Catholics know less of their faith than ever and hold less reverence and awe for its greatness. May the Holy Spirit continue to lead us to reclaim the fullness of our Catholic heritage!

The Return of Daddy

Brian has been away these past several days at the Catholic Medical Association's Annual Conference in Springfield IL. During his absence, I have come to realize how much I hate being alone. Perhaps it is because I come from a large family, and it was a rare thing to be the only one at home, but I think I know where Joseph gets his need for constant companionship. Granted, I haven't been completely forsaken with my little buddy around, but he's not quite of the age to be able to hold and intelligible conversation yet.

As much as I don't like being lonely, it has turned me more towards seeking the Lord's company through spontaneous prayer. What a comfort to know I have Him by my side to protect me and be with me. I have also come to a greater appreciation for the Lord's wisdom in knowing that man was not meant to be alone, nor are children meant to be raised by one parent. There are so many unique ways that Brian relates to Joseph that I can't replicate (and vice versa of course!) but even at 9 months it is so obvious to me that he NEEDS his Daddy too.

So we are clinging a little more tightly to each other for now as we await the return of Daddy!

Delicious Lentil Soup Recipe

Brian and I love to cook. So much so, that we always joke that if medical school doesn't work out, we will open a restaurant. One of the few things we watch on TV are cooking shows and we have learned a lot from them. Anyways, I am always looking for some new recipes at the beginning of each new season and I came across this one. It is definitely a keeper for us. Not only did it have fabulous flavor, it was also ridiculously simple, fast and another recipe I can fall back on for Friday night dinners, which we always keep meatless. So I thought I would share. I did add two chopped carrots to for some extra flavor and color. Enjoy!

http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Lentil-Soup-III

A Mother’s Holy Hour

I wrote this reflection a few months ago over the summer and wanted to share it since I haven't posted anything in a few days...

Ever since my son’s birth five months ago, I have experienced the dramatic change that occurs in one’s prayer life with the dawn of motherhood. Recently, I had the privilege of taking my mother’s weekly adoration hour while my parents were out of town for a wedding. The silence of an adoration chapel poses a particular challenge for mothers of vocal, young babies who do not yet understand the meaning of quiet.  For that reason, I had not stayed long in adoration with my baby. But this opportunity was different. My old home parish is a small country church in a little village and it is rare for someone not scheduled to stop by during adoration.  It was the perfect chance for me to bring my son without worrying about him being a distraction to others. I was excited to get some “real” prayer time in.

I settled Joseph onto a blanket on the floor and began a rosary. Joseph was having the time of his life looking at all the stained glass windows and the lighting fixtures hanging from the ceiling. Then he tilted his head back and seemed to notice the monstrance. “Ooooo! Haaaawoooo!” I couldn’t help laughing as he seemed to be greeting the Lord in his own little voice. He rolled his legs over and started his trademark head scoot towards the steps of the altar. While scrambling to grab him before he got too far, I lost track of where I was in my decade and so had to guess. I closed my eyes, trying to refocus on the meditation of the mystery. Not a minute later, my boy started showing signs of hunger, so I scooped him up to nurse him. I finished that decade and decided to take a break and try to do some spiritual reading while he was busy. I fished it out of my diaper bag and opened to the first page. I soon realized I was not destined to read much as Joseph began whacking the book in my hands, trying to pull it towards him.  “How on earth am I supposed to be able to pray?” I despaired.  This was not going well at all. I was hoping to get a rosary in and a chapter or two of reading.  As a single person, this would have been easily accomplished.  I was finally snapped out of my lamentations by the squirms of my baby as he had filled his belly and was ready to get back down.

He immediately resumed his cooing as I apologized to our Lord for being so distracted. Suddenly, as if he knew what I was thinking, Joseph looked at me and gave me one of his knock-out smiles and I had a revelation.  Here he was, in the presence of our Lord, just being himself and unconcerned about what to do or say. I realized I was approaching my prayer time as a to-do list, the quality of which I would judge by the number of things checked off in the end. In that little country church, the Lord showed me that he understood the desire of my heart to adore him, and through Joseph, I came to understand that the Lord just desires us to be ourselves and to speak to him in our own simple language. He transformed my task-oriented approach to prayer to one of sincerity by turning the actions of my vocation into praise.  I may not have finished all five decades of my rosary, or read more than a page of spiritual reflection, but nevertheless, I had talked with the Lord. As I smiled back at my little one, my heart filled with gratitude for the blessing that he has been in my life and I turned to the Lord with thanksgiving for my beautiful son and the powerful lesson that he taught me.