A Blessed Christmas

Today is Christmas Eve. For the past three weeks my kids have gone to practice on Saturday mornings for the Christmas Pageant. One of my little girls was even cast as the Blessed Mother. We planned a quick morning clean up from last night's party, then some last minute wrapping, a quick trip to the supermarket, an easy lunch of party leftovers, then off to church for the pageant and Mass. Of course, those were my plans. God's plans looked completely different. This year, God has asked me to practice some of the most difficult virtues for me. First, He threw me some sick kids to practice humility. When a person is as focused on impressions and pleasing others as I am, it is a very humbling thing to realize that you have exposed 50+ of your dear friends and family to a stomach virus just two days before Christmas. Next, He asked me to practice fortitude and patience as multiple children came to my room throughout the night vomiting through the carpeted hall on their way. He asked me to practice charity toward that little boy who just wanted Mommy to snuggle him when he was sick, but Mommy had an agenda to clean and work towards a "successful" Christmas. He asked me to practice temperance when I discovered my wedding ring was missing from the cabinet where I had left it to stay safe while I prepared meatballs for the party. Finally, He asked me to practice gratitude while I was sifting through yesterday's trash searching for my ring. We didn't make it to church for the pageant and Mass as a family, but we did get to go freely and safely to attend holy Mass and celebrate the birth of Our Savior. We didn't get to all munch on those yummy leftovers, but we were able to run to the supermarket in our town where chicken soup, gingerale, and jello were readily available to soothe aching tummies. I didn't find my wedding ring in the trash, but I was able to recognize that as I was sifting through trash on Christmas Eve for a diamond ring, other moms were sifting through trash to find food for their children. Our Christmas isn't going to look the way I would have pictured it in a fairy-tale storybook, but we will have a blessed Christmas. We will celebrate this great feast with freedom, plentiful food, a warm home, and love that surpasses all of the losses we have experienced thus far. God is good, and Jesus is born! Merry Christmas!

Why the Blame?

We live in a time of speculation and blame. It's a terrible way to live. Today I was reading some of the articles on my computer's news reel, and blame was everywhere. There was an article about two elementary aged children who got trapped in a hope chest and died. A tragic situation. All the comments were blaming the parents. Another was about an airplane landing at the wrong airport. Again, everyone blaming, no one saying praise be to God everyone is okay. One person actually commented that these pilots must have learned to fly at the same place as our pilots who were flying on 9/11! Really?!? Blaming our pilots who were killed on 9/11 for that tragedy?? I don't get it people. Why does there always have to be someone to blame? (With the exception of 9/11 which was clearly not an accident.) Why can't there ever just be an accident. As a Catholic mother, I find myself repeatedly trying to instill this value into my children. In a household with eleven kids there is always something going wrong, and with that there is always someone pointing a finger. I ask someone to pick up a dish that was left on the table, I get, "that's not my bowl." or "That's her chore." A picture gets knocked down and broken and there are fingers pointing and voices raised as a line is drawn and each child takes his or her place on their side of the situation. Siblings jump in to defend and prosecute when they weren't even witnesses to the event! Sometimes I could scream with frustration. But the fact is, I usually can't scream. I'm usually surrounded by little people who get very scared when I scream. So waht's a mother to do?

What's New?

Wow, it's been a while... What's been happening since August? Well, for starters, our darling first born when off to college, dropped out, came home, and went back. I am happy to report that having gotten over that little hiccup she is doing well and will finish Freshman year in Florida. Partially because they don't have fifty feet of snow like we do here, and partially because she knows she needs the grades to transfer. Also, we are preparing our second born for college. By "preparing" I really mean we are listening while he prepares. He and his sister are so very different. While she needed me every step of the way and wanted me to be super involved, he doesn't seem to need me at all, at least not yet. He knows wehre he wants to go and is taking full responsibility for getting himself there. There's just such and incredible difference in the children, it's amazing to watch. On another note, hile the kids are flying from the nest, we are bringing a new baby in to balance things off. Little Desrosiers is expected to arrive on September 8th 2014! I know that makes twelve, but I'm not changing my blog name. I can't. The acronym just doesn't work. Anyways, I'm off to retreat in a couple of hours and am just so full of joy and excitement for everything going on in our family. God is so good. All the time!

What if she's not ready?

Ten days from now we will send off our first child to college. It's a whirlwind of emotions for all of us. She, having wanted nothing more from life than to get out of the house and explore the world, is now trembling at the thought of being on the other end of the east coast, unable to come home at will. I, being a very attached and enabling mother, want to tell her it's okay if she doesn't go. But the fact is, I know it's not okay. She has to overcome her fears and she needs to experience this chapter in her life. But what if she's chosen the wrong college? or the wrong major? What if she hates it there and she's miserabe? What if she fails out? Did I prepare her well enough to survive the rigors of college life? What if she loves it and doesn't want to come home? So many times in our lives as parents, we come across challenges that make us want to throw in the perverbial towel, to question all of the decisions we've made in the raising of our children. Be it a young adult afraid of going out on their own, or a toddler who insists that eating the green stuff on his dinner plate will take away his super powers, parenting can be a great challenge, and sometimes it seems it would be easier to just give in. So what is a mother to do when she feels overwhelmed by the business of life and fears she's doing things all wrong? Pray. All we really can do as parents is to follow the advise of St. Padre Pio. We have to "pray, hope, and don't worry." God in his infinite love and mercy knows what is best for us and our children and if we pray and put our trust in Him, He will see us through these challenges. We will still make mistakes and there will always be bumps in the road, but by entrusting all to our Divine Redeemer, we are assured that in the end, all will be well and we will be with him in paradise. College or not, here or there, the goal of each parent should be this, to see our darling children again in Heaven. If this can be accomplished, all else will be forgotten. Stand strong mamas, and know that God has got your back!

Laying down our burdens

It has been my experience that people often try to unload their burdens by sharing them with their dearest friends. The problem with this is that one burden unloaded becomes another burden taken up. Thus, the friend who has just received the burden often feels the need to seek out another dear friend onto whom they might be able to unload their new found burden. Thus begins a vicious cycle known as gossip. Often gossip is not intended, but brought on by the fact that so many of us place our burdens on those who do not have the supernatuaral grace to be able to bare them. God is good, however, and thus we have Confession. Confession, being one of the seven sacraments of the Catholic Church, and having been instituted by Christ Himself, is accompanied by great graces. The grace of the sacrament is not only that which is received by the penitent, but also, that which is gifted to the Confessor, the priest, himself. God is so good, He knows our fallen natures and He sees our weaknesses. Being a merciful God, He provides for His priests the unearthly ability to allow the burdens of others to channel through their mortal bodies to the Heart of our loving Father in heaven who is then able, as only God is, to forgive and forget. The priest, in persona Christi, as Christ Himself, is able to confer this forgiveness on the penitent and true relief is achieved, without the burden being passed through the continuous chain of gossip and eventually causing more hurt than anyone had ever imagined. My prayer for all of us, both reader and writer, is that we will take to the Confessional with all haste. Run to the sacrament when our hearts are heavy laden. Allow Christ, through His priests, to provide us with the relief our our burdens that only He, as our loving God, can do. Be a good friend to others, and lay down your burdens at the feet of the almighty God.

half-minded baking

Sometimes I wonder why God gave me all of these kids. I mean really? Eleven kids is a lot of responsibility. What makes me worthy? Why did God choose me? Today, I think He gave them to me to eat my mistakes. Seriously. I have a tendancy at times to do things half minded. You know, like getting into the car and driving on auto pilot, only to discover I'm going in the oposite direction than I need to be going. So today, I was in the kitchen making cookies with a new recipe from my friend, Kirsten. I got through the wet ingredients and pulled out the bowl and started in ont he dry stuff. Half looking at the recipe, I added a teaspoon of salt. Looking back at the recipe card, I notice it calls for 1/2 a teaspoon of salt. Now I'm not a big salt fan anyway, but I know what double salt can do to a batch of cookies. No problem, I have eleven kids after all, I'll just double the recipe. So I continue with the dry ingredients, doubling everything, then I return to the wet bowl and double that. After combining the two and stirring well, I get to thinking, "that looks kinda gross". It was very buttery. So I look back at the recipe and then at a stick of butter. Yah. A stick of butter is 1/2 cup, not 1/4 cup. I quadrupaled the butter! I don't really want to make a quadrupal batch of chocolate crinkle cookies, I know what kind of damage that could do to my efforts to slim down, but at this point, I'm not about to waste all these ingredients. So, on I go adding another double set of everything else. In the end I had so much batter, it took two days to bake it all. You might think all those cookies would last forever, that they'd go bad before we could eat them all. Well, in a house with thirteen people, there's only one way to make them last past day one, I had to lock those babies up in the safe! You got that right. The only way to keep some of those puppies from being devoured by the masses was to put them in with the guns until I could safely trasport them to a venue where my little monsters would be able to share them reather than having a dozen each. And thankfully that opportunity came soon, because although they were safe from the kids, I know the code. And crinkle cookies are oh so good!!

Quiet Time

Today is a very rare day. Eight of the children are at our friend's house and two have gone to the firing range with their dad and uncle. That leaves me home with only the baby! This never happens. At first, I thought it was really nice. The baby was asleep in his crib and I was enjoying the absolute silence of this peaceful house. I thought for a while about what I should do. Clean? No. Watch tv? No. Read a book? No. Then I decided to just do nothing. I did nothing for about ten minutes, then I was bored. So, I checked my email. Then I sat again and tried to do nothing. Again, I found myself to be overwhelmingly bored. So I called a friend and then checked my Facebook. Then I was bored again. Why is it that I can not seem to sit in silence for five minutes? Is it because my life is so busy all the time? Is it because there's so much I could be doing? Or is it because silence is scary? I think it's because silence can be a frightening thing. As we enter the first full week of Lent, we are asked to spend some time in the silence. Today at Mass, our pastor retold us the story of Jesus spending forty days in the desert being tempted by the devil. Sitting in the silence of my own home made me wonder just how difficult that must have been. I know He is God and He is not subject to the same sinful nature that I am, but the Church does tell ust he Christ was tempted in the desert. I think the trouble for me is that in the silence, the devil is able to tempt us very easily. I know I am an easy target for temptation because I do not spend much time in silence. When I do have the rare occasion to be still, my mind easily wanders into all sorts of places that I should not go. Gossipy thoughts and nosey wonders quickly fill my mind. I can get lost in the lives of others and the questions that fill my head about their moves and motives. So should I flee the silence? Should I avoid this near occasion of sin all together? No. I believe that God calls each of us, especially during this holy season of preparation, to come to Him in silence. To release all of our worries and anxieties, and to be still. He wants to speak to our hearts. He wants to tell us how we can be closer to Him. We are not called to turn away from the silence, but rather to embrace it, give it to God, and ask Him to fill this silence with His peace. Only then will He be able to speak to us and let us know His will for our lives. Silence can be a scary thing for someone like me whose days and even nights are so filled with noise and activity, but if we want to grow closer to God, we have to embrace the stillness and open our hearts to His love. "Be still and know I am God." Psalm 46:10