The Way to Live

Recently my husband's father passed and we traveled to Oklahoma for the funeral.  My husband had already been there a week and watched his father decline and finally, go to meet his Maker.  I stayed at home with the kids running them to lessons and trying to keep the routine going.  We prayed for him and worried from afar.

Once he was gone we quickly threw together our suitcases and got on the road.  I was already tired and worried and a ten hour drive did not appeal to me in the least.  But God blessed us through the prayers of many and the help of movies and audio tapes on the road which made the trip go faster.

Upon arrival we went to the farm and visited with family.  Spirits were good and it was clear there was rejoicing at a life well lived.  I was asked to lead the rosary at the wake.  I nervously accepted, knowing this would be my first time to stand up in the church to lead anything.  I prayed for strength and wisdom and grace.  As I mounted the steps to the ambo, my heart boomed in my chest.  I'd been feeling over-tired for a while and kneeling to the Host was excruciating and I wondered if I could get up on my own (arthritis).

I turned to face the crowd and was stunned for a moment.  I didn't know what to expect but the church was almost full.  In every row sat friends, family, neighbors and folks who had come to pray for Ray.  I nervously began.  My mother-in-law told me to speak up from the front row.  As I continued the prayers a peace fell upon me and while my knees shook occasionally, my heart settled into the rhythm of the familiar words.

After the rosary I once again knelt before returning to my seat, hearing the cracking in my joints as I pulled myself up.  Then folks began to come up to talk about Ray's life.  The words still ring in my ears, how Ray spent his life focusing on people, not things; not money.  When the harvest was due Ray would stop the machines to go to Mass because he knew what was important in the long run.

Much was said and while I can't remember the exact words, the meaning is stamped on my heart.

The next day at the funeral the priest was speaking and he looked upon the ocean of people filling the church and said that this was the largest funeral he'd seen at the parish since his coming there.  It was standing room only.  And I'll bet Ray knew the names of everyone in that building, first and last.  They all knew him.

Later I began to think about his life and his death and I realized that he was truly a rare person, and I am blessed to be linked to his family.  He did his best to set the example of how to live a life and his children have tried to do the same.  But the world is changing and it tries to steal our children from us.  Sometimes we do not see how the evil sneaks in and lives among us, filtering out our words of faith and replacing them with words the world says are more practical and make more sense.

Even with a man like Ray standing in the gap for his family, the world is snatching at our children and convincing them that Ray's world is gone and that no-one can live like that anymore.

I watched at the funeral as several of his grandchildren abstained from the Eucharist.  The world they live in has told them that it's all nonsense; that there's more to life than accepting the words of a dusty old book and a boring weekly routine of rules and penalties.  I wanted to cry.  And I turned and looked at my own children and wondered what they would believe when they come of age.

The funeral was over and another day spent enjoying family, then we took to the highway once again.  All the while we drove I was thinking about those beloved sitting in the pew watching as the rest of us consumed the Host.

Once home I realized this trip had cost us so much and as it was our fifth funeral in a year I decided we needed to cut back some expenses.  I had been thinking of cutting these anyway but finally withdrawing the children from some of their lessons was hard; for me and for them.  But I knew it was the thing we had to do for now.  My mind also began to wonder if the doing of all these things was the thing allowing their minds to wander from the things of Heaven.

If you examine the lives of the saints, one thread seems common in all their stories.  That is that they decide that the world and everything in it is a distraction from the things that are important.  We say that we want our children to have every opportunity to do and achieve so we pay for ballet lessons and piano and so on.  Yet what in ballet lessons and piano lessons leads them to Heaven?  If I am honest, ballet has a number of things associated with it that I would never want my children exposed to.  Granted, it is when they are older that these things become an issue; but if they fall in love with the art and want to continue when they are older, I will be to blame if I try to withdraw them from it at that point.  How can I say it is okay for a while, then suddenly say it will lead to possible evils?

I think the thing with all arts is that they turn our focus from God to ourselves.  And not just the arts but also sports and skills of any kind.  Most saints had great skills, but they were the skills of Heaven: prayer, chastity, poverty, selflessness of all kinds.  Our world makes us into demigods if we succeed well in the world and it sets us up as idols for others to worship.  All one need do is look at Hollywood to see this, or Wall Street, or Washington D.C.

Saint Therese had her "little way" of living which led to Heaven.  Her way is despised in our country.  As I lie in bed feeling as though I am getting pneumonia once again (which I almost succumbed to several years ago), I feel afraid that I have not taught my children enough about the right way to live.  Do they understand that money, power, and fame mean nothing?  Do they understand that hard work, prayer, and service are the keys to Heaven?

As we find ourselves with more time on our hands I know that my daily goals must be to teach them this.  I know the questions will start about when we can return to this or that lesson or class and I hope I am prepared with the best answers.

Mostly I hope I will never have to stand to take Eucharist and watch as they sit idly by, wondering why I do such a thing. 

Pinewood Derby

Well, it was year two and we had so much fun last year we decided to pull out all the stops this year.  Quick review: last year we built the car in a week.  Well, we tried to and then ended up staying up till all hours when we realized we had done it wrong.  Mr. Happiness was involved in all of it and the car was an excellent first attempt.  It came in right in the middle of the pack.  We observed the other cars and decided the next year we would give ourselves more time.

So this year we started six weeks out.  We got our cars and one of the pack parents brought a band saw to meetings so we could cut.  This was very kind and generous of him so we were the first ones to cut because we were ready with our designs (which the kids all picked and helped with drawing on their cars.).  Now, obviously, an 8 year old cannot use a band saw.  Last year he used the coping saw.  This year he picked out a difficult design so we opted for the band saw to make it easier.

Once our cars were cut, we took them home and the kids sanded, I sanded, Dad sanded.  We all sanded.  They needed LOTS of sanding.  I explained that to get a nice paint finish they needed to be smooth as glass.  Lesson number one:  Use varying grades of sand paper on wood to achieve a paintable surface.

Then the cars were ready for weights.  We learned from our new Pinewood Derby book that tungsten weights are highly recommended and I remembered from last year that this part was hard.  So, having plenty of time with book in hand, we followed the directions for adding the weights.  Mr. Happiness drew the drill sights onto the car.  We used the drill press to drill the holes.  He learned how to help use it - he was not allowed to operate it alone.

We slipped the weights in and used putty to cover them.  More sanding.

Finally, (because we had to order more weights b/c the stores were out), the cars were ready for primer.  They were set aside while we prepared axles and wheels.  Again, tools were used in this process and the kids learned about safety and use with a drill press, sander, wet/dry sand paper blocks, etc.

They also learned that patience is required for this kind of work, and the results will not appear overnight.

Once the axles and wheels were ready they were set aside and we spray painted the cars.  This worked fine for the girls cars, but my boy's car got the last painting and the weather turned sour on us.  It rained, was foggy, and rained some more.  His paint kept peeling up and we had to re-sand to the base 4 times.  He was pretty frustrated as was I.  Finally, we got it to an acceptable condition by using a different kind of paint.  It still was not what we'd hoped for.

But we accept all as part of the process and move along.  My boy and I get his wheels on at the last minute and are ready to go.  We are all excited and proud of our work.

When we arrived at the derby we ran the cars down the track and they looked good, Big Girl's especially ran well.  We weighed, checked in, and waited for the races to start.  We visited with friends, laughed, chatted.  It was fun just to be there.  As the cars came in each had a special story behind it.

Finally the races began.  Our cars did well.  Better than most.  My boy's car won his first race.  Sweet.  Then they re-ran the race and he got second.  Then second again, and again.  He was clearly bummed.  I felt for him.  When you've spent six weeks on your car you have high hopes.  We promised to praise God if we won or lost, but for an 8 year old this is a challenge.  I was proud though - he pulled himself together in the shadow of Big Girl's clean sweep.

Comments were made about how some parents gave their child the box and said, "Go make your car."  When I heard this I thought to myself that that is unfair.  This is not an easy thing to build if you are 6, 7, 8 years old.  Several cars fell apart on the track and others didn't finish the race.

There is a fine line between "helping" the child and doing the work yourself.  The child must do as much as they can.  And in our house, we use every moment as a teachable moment.  My kids learned about power tools, the sanding process, and about potential energy and force and drag.  They can tell you why some cars won and others didn't.  They can tell you why some cars sped up on the flat part of the track while others slowed down.  Friction is a word we discussed.

This event is fun.  Even when parents make comments about how you must have just built all these cars yourself without letting the kids do much - it's fun because we just smile and know better.  This event offers much in the way of learning in science and physics.  Those things will not happen if you toss the box to your child and say, "Go put this together."  My heart went out to every child whose car broke on the track or couldn't get past the finish line.  Parents, I get that this is for the kids and that the focus is not all about winning, but is called a "race" for a reason.

"Set time aside to do it right, or don't do it at all." - My Mother.

What's that Scout motto again?  Oh yeah, "BE PREPARED!"

Rainy Days and Run Days

I'm thankful for the rain...I AM.  I am.  No, really...I am.  But the kids are stir crazy and I'm about zapped of any strength I may have thought I had.  Our backyard?  Well, can you say M-U-D?  Oh, for a mud room or an outdoor patio. 

The past week or so has been trips to the doctor and chaos unleashed as we try to get everything in.  Then it hits me.  This is all so silly.

We watched a film called Clare and Frances about the two Saints.  It hit me that we in America live lives so completely ridiculous that others must laugh at us from afar.  Well, they'd laugh if they had a lens to watch through.  I guess they do - the TV.  Anyway, how futile are our attempts to consume time through pursuits of the mundane. 

I'm not saying there aren't valuable things to do with our time.  But we are overachievers to the point of the ridiculous and cannot see the value of silence, quiet and home.  My kids do too much and I see them not excelling.  This bothers me.  We need to step back and consider - what is really beneficial to them?  Will they be blessed more by doing these activities or by staying in and praying the rosary as a family or playing a game together?  Silly question.

I see them someday playing the cello or violin in church, or maybe dancing a solo part in the Nutcracker.  But at what cost to their soul? Should earning a patch in a scout troop supercede learning to listen and talk and enjoy one another?  Hmmm.

Of course these questions are rhetorical and we all know the answers.  The question is, do we (do I) have the courage to weed them out?

Here's my challenge to myself and those of you who read me.  Look at everything you do and decide what can go and DO it...cut the strings and let it fly.  Listen to the rain from your living room filled with the laughter and love of your family.  See how often you can look at the calendar and sigh a sigh of contentment because...there's nothing on it!

The Nutcracker

So Kitten and Mr. Happiness were in the Nutcracker this past December.  Can you say amazing amounts of time spent volunteering (making and fixing costumes), going to rehearsals, and stressing over it all?  However, in the end it was wonderful!  God is so good.  Backstage I met a wonderful lady who I hope will mentor me in my faith.  She is an amazing Catholic lady and I know God brought her to me in that moment.  He is so good to us.

Here are some pics of my lovelies:

Kitten on left.  She WANTED to be the boy.

How handsome is he?

 It was a busy season, but worth it all!

American Heritage Girls

We joined a local AHG troop this past Fall and can I say what a great organization!  The girls now have badges to earn like their Cub Scout brother, and they really seem to enjoy it.

One of our first activities was to participate in a fundraiser for Wreaths Across America.  I took my eldest out for two days and she asked everyone in our neighborhood to buy a wreath.  I think only 3 people actually said "no."  She ended up winning top sales for the whole troop!  Way to go kiddo!

She was very happy to receive her prize - an AHG headband to match her uniform.

Ahhh...2012.

So, after a very difficult December I am relishing in the life that is January.

School is going well after a refresh on the course schedules and a resolution to keep up no matter what!  I'm seeing good progress which is always a plus.

We are embarking on an adventure this Friday as my eldest goes for an Autism screening.  I am amazingly calm and peaceful about this.  I know answers are the biggest blessing I can receive at this point and I'm confident that I will get some answers, if not many.

I am contemplating the schedule and thinking of downsizing again.  We love being home.  This is a new feeling.  Our house is great.  Our yard is great.  Home is great and everyone enjoys spending time here.  Anything that takes us out is worth questioning.

Yet I also love hearing the music (when they actually practice).  Our Christmas concert here at home was lovely and I think we'll make it an annual event.  Here's a few shots:

It's hard to see in that last picture, but Mr. Happiness is playing the cello.  What fun we had baking yummy treats all day and playing for our friends and teachers!

I actually had that room painted so it looked nice and pretty.  The living room is next...

It's nice to be blogging again and to the few folks who actually read my blog, thanks for your patience.