Cuteness and talent

Just a few things I have recently posted to facebook but didn't put here yet.

Oh, Mommy! You are so funny!

Olivia sporting a "twist-out" hairstyle for her preschool graduation program.

And then there's this. My 5-and-a-half year old doing a move I never mastered (not even close).

Soapbox

Yesterday, I was sitting in the observation loft at gymnastics talking with a couple of other gymnastics moms as Martin crawled around on the floor, being his adorable self. One sweet mom, with whom I've had a great many surface conversations over the years, casually mentioned a news story she saw on a major news network.

"Did you hear about this doctor over in Pennsylvania or something who did those awful things to those babies?"

Um, yeah. I think I may have heard something about that.

So a conversation ensued between me and this mom and another mom, and the three of us talked about the horrors of what had gone on there. I had, by far, the most information (having followed the story before the news networks finally decided to cover it), and the other two moms were shocked at some of the things that had been done. We discussed the arbitrary nature of calling what Gosnell did "murder" while doing something that achieves the same result only a few minutes before, while baby was still in the birth canal, is considered legal and acceptable behavior in our society.

I mentioned that some lawmakers believe that infanticide should also be legal, probably also because of that arbitrary line.

One mom looked at me and said, "Well, clearly that is wrong. Even when babies survive abortion. Because, obviously, if they can survive that procedure, then God must really want them here."

I held my tongue. But what I was thinking was this:

No, the evidence that God wants these babies here is not the fact that they survived an horrific procedure designed to end their lives, but the fact that they exist at all. God is the creator of life. HE created these lives, whether we think they are convenient or wanted or desired...or not. What happened with Gosnell is a tragedy for all women and babies involved...ALL of them. Not just the ones who survived the abortion only to be killed later, and not just the women who were overdosed and given inadequate medical attention. Women and babies deserve to be treated better than this. God has a plan for each and every little human life if we just look to Him to try to find out what that plan is.

End soapbox rant.

Gah! This week!

I'm a single mom this week while my husband is away on business on a trip he did not want to take but had absolutely no choice about. I always get a whole new respect for single moms when he is away. Because, Dude. This job is hard.

It may or may not help that it has been unusually busy with stuff and things. Last night was my very first school board meeting for Olivia's Catholic school. Since the daddy-person wasn't available and every single local family member was also busy, I had to find a new babysitter. She turned out to be great, but this always leaves me with a little anxiety.

Tonight is Olivia's preschool Spring program and "graduation" ceremony for those entering kindergarten next year. (No, they do not wear cap-and-gown. Thanks be to God.) I have her hair all twisted in hopes that I can accomplish the perfect twist-out 'do for her program tonight. Photos to come, whether good or bad.

She is bummed and I'm bummed and Joe is bummed that he cannot be there tonight. He is stuck in some mission diocese on the edge of the universe (or the border to Mexico, whatever). So I'm planning to record the whole thing on two separate devices and pray that one of them turns out really, really well so we can all play it back in a couple of days and say "Yay! You successfully completed preschool and will get to move ten whole feet down the hall to the Kindergarten room next year! You rock, little diva!" (The diva part because she sings loudly and can be heard above all 20 other kids in her class every time they do a program.)

I still need to iron her dress. Crap.

I managed to clean up the porch this morning, which feels like an accomplishment of epic proportions. The porch, you see, is where I send the non-nappers during nap, and the loud kids when it is raining, and the dirty kids when they are tired of playing outside. In short, it is where the kids play. And it has been neglected of late, so it was a disaster area.

My goal when Joe is gone is always to have the house cleaned and organized when he gets back, kind of as a gift. This never, ever happens like I want it to. But just to have at least ONE space that looks nice...well, that feels good.

Of course, he won't be home until tomorrow afternoon, at the end of a day when Olivia is home and I have three additional kids in the house, so it won't look anything like this tomorrow. Dude. What a waste.

I think I will go bury my head in a pillow and scream for awhile. And maybe iron that dress. 

Haircut

On Friday, Olivia had her first ever professional hair appointment. Shampoo first.

Waiting for the stylist to comb and dry her hair.

The stylist use the straightening iron, then gave her a trim.

Olivia is rocking her new (temporary) 'do.

National Infertility Awareness Week

I believe all of us were created with some sort of purpose in mind. I'm not talking about a specific, predestined set of roles...more like a designed set of strengths and gifts that allow us to be a very important part of the overall puzzle that constitutes life in our corner of the world.

I always believed that part of that purpose, for me, would be wrapped up in forming young lives under the title of "Mom". From the time I was very small, I knew I would have kids one day. I am a part of a large family and assumed that chaos and tiny feet would be a part of my life forever.

So, when infertility became the label by which we were defined, life just sort of stood still. What was the direction? What was the purpose? Why were we doomed to suffer the injustice of a sterile existence?

That last statement is complete hogwash, and I have the clarity to realize that now. None of us, regardless of our marital status or condition of our reproductive organs, are doomed to a sterile existence. There is no such thing. God can bring life of all sorts through the authentic living of our vocations and the use of our gifts for Him.

But. Women were created with an organ specifically designed to foster and sustain new human life. An entire organ dedicated specifically to that purpose. It is no mistake that for many women, the cross of infertility can become an existential crisis.

Now, two adoption experiences and 5.5 years of hands-on-mothering experience later, I rarely even think of infertility. It is a vague shadow of a past life that allows me to empathize with those in the throes of infertility, but it doesn't consume any of my personal reflection time. Now, my thoughts are turned to the needs of my own two rapidly-growing kids and my responsibility toward those forgotten kids still bouncing around in foster care, in need of permanence. Whether or not we jump into that fray is yet to be determined or even discussed. But the thought of future growth in our family is not limited by (or even influenced by) our infertility. The fertility of our union will be determined by how God leads us to use our gifts and talents, as a couple, in the Church and in our world. The possibilities are endless.

This post brought to you by the fact that it is National Infertility Awareness Week, which got me thinking about such things. Awareness does that to you, I guess.

Nine

Martin is nine months old today. I can hardly believe it.

And he's very excited to show off the teeth he grew this month.

Oh yeah. I'm a big boy now.

What's that? Why yes, I AM the cutest boy!

He just started eating finger foods.

Very happy to be able to feed himself.

The face he makes when he has solid food in his mouth.

His new skill is crawling...everywhere. "Please, please, please can I chew on this chair?"

Close up of the new teeth!

Some happy things

This has been a terrible week from a national perspective. So let's focus on some happy things happening right here in our house...


Martin learned to push himself to sitting position:

And then he perfected his maimed crab crawl.