Sing His Praises!!

The power of prayer really is a mysterious and glorious thing. I know many people who always feel like God never answers them and I even find myself wondering at times if He's listening. But in the end, His timing is always perfect and prayers are always answered, even if not in the exact way or time period we would like.

My husband today, thanks be to God, came to Mass. Not because I badgered him, guilted him, or forced him to. Just because. I want to personally thank all of you who have been praying for my family and my husband. Those prayers are not falling upon silent ears. Jesus, Mary, and all the Saints in Heaven have interceded and His Will is being done.

There was even mention from him (my hubby) of confession today. Confession!?! Can you even imagine? The Lord does indeed work in mysterious ways, and I happen to know some of those ways are through the wonderful aid of prayer from regular folks, like you and myself.

Please continue to pray for our family. We are so grateful for all the blessings He has bestowed upon us. Pray for the conversion of hearts and pray for the unborn in this wonderful month of Life.

~H

Seek the Truth

And go read this right away......

~H

Love Affair

I have a confession to make.

I am in love with someone who is not my husband.

The affair has been going on strong now for almost 6 weeks.

I see him everyday. He makes me feel like I am on top of the world. When we are alone together it is as though time stands still and all the cares in the world are mysteriously gone. He makes my heart melt every time I lay eyes on him. His voice is like a spring melody, taking me away from all the troubles of today and transporting me into an infinite oblivion of ecstasy.

Who is this marvelous one, you ask? Where did I meet this fine, young specimen?

I first met him (I'm a little embarrassed to say...) in my house. I know, I know. The nerve I have to meet him in the very place my husband and I call home. My lover and I had our first winsome embrace right here in my kitchen followed by hours and hours laying in each others' arms in my bed.

Some nights, while my husband was at work, I would lay awake and stare at him while he slept soundly next to me, awing the the magnificence of his perfectness. Now that my husband is working days, we meet coyly in the early mornings basking in each others' light.

What can I say - I love him. Every time I curl my neck around his and breathe in his sweet aroma I am drunk with affection. Simply being in his presence makes my world complete.

Of course, I am speaking of no man. I am not speaking of a tryst with some random stranger.

I am in love with my baby, my Little Man. I am in love with the one God has sent me to love and that I have been waiting to meet for most of the last year. Funny thing, God's timing. It's perfect. His masterpiece, us humble humans with our free will, has been created with perfect attention to detail. I can no longer focus on anything other than the boy who needs the most of my time, my caring, my nurturing than I could ignore the sunrise and set. He has created us this way, and it is beautiful.

I love being in love with my baby. This is one of the magical times of motherhood and it goes by so fast. He designed it this way. And I am so grateful. There is no one else on this earth I would rather be with. I know these swelling emotions will fade with time and I will once again care to see my husband as my lover, my soul mate, my everything. But for now, when my baby needs me the most, when it is my job to show him that the world is good and full of love, I am so thankful for His wonderful genesis in our lives.

Just When It Seems Ok......

Your two year old wakes up puking.

Yup. Fun for me. Fun for you to read about.

Remember: one is like one, two is like......I don't know, a million?

My eight year old is "bored". You know what happens at our house when you say you're bored? I get to find something for you to do. Today, it's dishes. If he keeps it up, it'll be cleaning the bathroom.

So, My Petite Little Flower is a little on the smelly side, as in her breath. Whew! It stinks like thrown-up cheese. Mmmmm hmmmm. Fun, fun, fun. My Little Man smells like milk, which is much better than cheese. And my Wobbs is complaining. Over, and over, and over again. "This sucks." "It's the worst week ever." "Why does God have to make it like this." Oh buddy, you've got a lot to learn.

I am learning that His timing is always perfect. He has planned my family's lives in absolute brilliance, allowing for the good and bad to happen at just the right time so as to maximize the benefits of both for everyone involved.

Of course, I don't always see it that way. And, it's much easier to see all those things in hindsight. If you had asked me a year ago what I thought life would be like right now, I'd have to admit I probably would have told you that I had given up hope of anything being wonderful, happy or great.

I started this post over a week ago, for Pete's sake. Life has been busy and demanding with a toddler, who's been sick, and a baby, AND a very complain-ee-like 8 year old.

The puking didn't amount to much, and vanished after the cheese incident. A fever, however, did come to stay and took up root for a week, a week. Can you even imagine? After 5 days I did take her to the actual doctor, MD and all, (for only the second time in her life) and I was told that nothing was wrong with her. As I thought. After a week the fever left as mysteriously as it arrived and all was well. For a bit.

My Wobbs thought last week was a good time to question authority, particularly ME. Not so good for him. He proceeded to escalate the situation beyond, way beyond, appropriateness. Consequences have been rendered, as well as activities to get out his energy planned.

My Petite Flower is on another course of sickness. This time of the croupe-y cough variety. She wakes up barking like a baby harp seal in the night. Then she cries from the pain. This is accompanied by Niagra Falls nose and melting eyes. I so wish she would nurse so she could gain the benefits of Mama's Milk and it's cure all to sickness. My Little Man (meaning the newest member of the household) had a slight case of Niagra Falls last night. I put a little Mama's Milk in his nose and eyes and this morning he is fine. Looks like I'll have to express some and put it over her cereal to get it in her.

I feel like I am in some kind of weird after-school special what with the challenges of everyday life and God miraculously helping me in and out of them.

Hopefully the next few weeks will go smoothly and I'll be able to post a little more often.

Aw, Crap!

I'm just so waaaayyy behind on everything.

Do you ever have one of those days where it just seems like there is more to be done than there are hours in the day? Every time I begin to start something, somebody needs me. Me.

I have prayed for patience and the grace to use it many times today.

I've got to just kick life in the butt and get moving. Of course, I've been moving all day. First to the Chiropractor (because he ROCKS!), then lunch, then to look for long sleeve shirts for under my hubby's new uniforms, which are backordered btw.

Why long sleeve, you ask? When it's probably going to be 200 degrees outside for another couple of months? Ah, because my dear readers my hubby and I are covered with these. Ok, not completely covered, but we have a bunch. Both of us have sleeves on our left arms, mine faeries, his demons (it's actually a tattoo of he and I riding a motorcycle out of hell). We both have our wedding rings tattooed on our inner right wrists. I've got more faeries on my back and calf, a tattoo of the Wobbers on my right arm, and some black and grey work on my upper thigh. Hubby's got the Honda symbol on the nape of his neck, this guy on his calf, and flames on his right forearm.

We both feel like we need more. Yup, you heard me, more. But, I've been pregnant and/or nursing for the last 3 years, so none for me yet.

So now we need to buy these. No, there isn't a policy or anything saying he has to, but he's gonna. Why? Because he's a dude. And he decides to do things a little different sometimes - Since we're a little different.

I gotta run and cook dinner.

~H

Don't You Just Hate That?

You know what I'm talking about. You get all nice and comfy with a particular blog. You're used to they're timely fashion of posts showing up daily or every other day. And then, WAHM! - nothing, I mean nothing - for over a week.

The nerve of some people.

Ok, so I got a little behind. It isn't like there's anything else on my mind or in my hands. Not like I'm carrying around a newborn or anything. No toddlers here. Nevermind the housework. Or school. Not like I'm studying to be a midwife or anything.

So my dear readers, I apologize profusely. Please do not hold it against me. I will update more ofter. I will allow you to read my humble musings and rants. I know you enjoy them so (or, at least, I hope you do).

The word of the day is - thanks.

Thanks be to God, yet again (isn't He great!!??). My husband has a job....in his chosen profession. He is officially a Deputy Sheriff. Has the badge and everything.

Well, that's all. Until tomorrow. Or will that still be today? I don't know one way or the other. The kids are driving me crazy. Crazy, I tell you.

One is like One, Two is like Ten

I've heard it before - one is like one, two is like four.

Since I went from one to three rather quickly when I met and married my husband, I don't think I fully grasped what it was like to have more children. When we had number 4 (my second child by birth) my son was 6 years old, not toddler material. Having a new baby, a 6 year old, a 10 year old, and a 13 year old was really no big deal. The "big" kids were perfectly happy keeping themselves content and even the 6 year old could do many things independently, such as take a bath or shower, brush his teeth, and get himself a snack.

Now that I am the proud Mama of a 2 year old AND a newborn I Get It. One is like one. Two is like a million. Two under the age of 3, that is.

I smell. My clothes smell. My breath smells. My armpits - well let's just say I can clear a room out rather quickly. I don't know what it's like to talk to adults. I don't remember what soap feels like. I don't know which breast was last used to feed my baby. I can't remember how many times I've actually brushed my teeth in the last two weeks but it can't be more than twice.

My toddler is hungry. She can't get herself anything to eat and she certainly doesn't want to wait for me to get her anything. My poor 8 year old gets ordered around more than he should be, constantly being asked to bring me this and bring me that. My baby doesn't cry much, but he needs to eat a lot and that takes up both of my hands and cements me either in the chair, the bed, or on the couch leaving me feeling completely helpless when it comes to the needs of the other two I am responsible for.

Napping never happens concurrently. By the time I finally get my 2 year old down, the newborn is ready to be up and awake, probably because he knows it's the only time he can get my full attention. Try to get both of them to sleep at night with only two hands, one lap, one voice, and one bed for all 3 of us (by choice, of course, is the last part) has brought me almost to tears the last couple of nights.

Do I sound ungrateful for the blessing bestowed upon my marriage and family? I sure hope not. I only mean to sound as though I get it. I get that it is not easy being the mom of two very young children. Not that I never had any idea before what it was like or never had any sympathy for those mamas that did have more than one very young child (my best friend in fact had 4 under the age of 6 at one point, and she deserves a medal) - just that I really get it now.

A shower, by myself, without a crying baby in the background, would be great. Toothpaste. I would love to taste toothpaste again. I would like to not smell as though I just ran the New York Marathon. It seems the only thing I have time to wash lately is diapers.

Never ending. This too will pass. And I will remember it fondly, wishing I could experience this time in their lives over and over again.