So yesterday I was facing the sink in the corner of the kitchen while James played with the chairs. He likes to move them around sometimes (he's been known to push them into the dining room/living room) so I didn't think much of it. But then I turn around and see him on. the. table.
It was a deja vu moment as I recalled this post from exactly two years ago, in October 2007:
Caught in the Act
So seeing as James is two and a half months younger than Peter was at this time, should I be worried that he's catching on to the whole climbing-everything-in-sight phase so much quicker? Next thing I know, he'll be climbing onto the counter next to me.
(At least this time, thanks to my FlyLady cleaning, the kitchen table is a lot cleaner!)
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
The long and the short of it
Here's something I wrote about my dad in June 2008. Though I didn't start out writing a tribute to my dad, it kind of became one. The only thing that I learned since then is he really did say to my mother, after he was diagnosed with diabetes, that he would take care of himself so he could take care of my mom and his children. He remained true to his word. Also, he wasn't a Type 1 diabetic from the start. But eventually he did become insulin dependent.
As we sorted through old pictures of my dad to display at his wake, we found a lot of him with his golfing and fishing buddies. He looked so good, especially in the early '90s. The others in the photos were probably his age or younger, but he looked the best of all of them. I keep thinking it's kind of not fair that he took such good care of himself yet didn't live longer. I know -- 78 is a good amount of years to be alive! I guess I was pulling for him to hit 80, though. And, as my husband said, "Even a long life is short."
I know my dad is doing fine and is better off, in a better place. He received all the sacraments before his death. He was never really in any pain, though I suppose the suffering he did experience in recent months and years was in not being able to do the things he used to love to do. But as I keep mentioning to people, you just think your parents are always going to be around. Then one day they're not. And it's just... weird.
As we sorted through old pictures of my dad to display at his wake, we found a lot of him with his golfing and fishing buddies. He looked so good, especially in the early '90s. The others in the photos were probably his age or younger, but he looked the best of all of them. I keep thinking it's kind of not fair that he took such good care of himself yet didn't live longer. I know -- 78 is a good amount of years to be alive! I guess I was pulling for him to hit 80, though. And, as my husband said, "Even a long life is short."
I know my dad is doing fine and is better off, in a better place. He received all the sacraments before his death. He was never really in any pain, though I suppose the suffering he did experience in recent months and years was in not being able to do the things he used to love to do. But as I keep mentioning to people, you just think your parents are always going to be around. Then one day they're not. And it's just... weird.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Sorry I've been away...
I don't think I've ever gone a whole month without blogging. Sorry 'bout that.
The day after my last post, Sept. 23, my brother called in the early afternoon to tell me my dad had taken a turn for the worse. (You might recall a post from June, the last time I had seen him.) I had already made plans to come into town Oct. 3-5 to see him. But thanks to the encouragement of my husband (and his assurance that the kids would be fine in my absence), I changed my travel plans and left that evening (the feast of St. Padre Pio! Thank you, St. Pio, for your intercession).
I wasn't sure if I'd make it in time to see my dad. I did. My other siblings who also live outside Chicago came in as well, so we were able to have someone with my Dad 24 hours. But I was scheduled to leave that Sunday. My brother went home then, too. My sister left Tuesday. Dad was still with us.
I said many prayers on Oct. 1, the feast of St. Therese. Dad hung in there. On Friday, Oct. 2, the feast of the Guardian Angels, my Dad's guardian angel led him home at last. He was 78 years old.
Another trip to Chicago, this time with Terry. I agonized over whether or not to bring the kids. Terry advised against it. I listened to him. Did I mention he gives good advice? The wake and funeral were so comforting. I got to see old friends and meet people -- friends of siblings, friends and coworkers of my father's -- I wouldn't have otherwise met. That's the bittersweet part about a loved one dying, I think.
I wasn't feeling so well as we walked into the chapel for the funeral. Too hard to fight the tears. But then I sat down and gazed at the tabernacle. "Comforting" is the best word in a pool of inadequate words to use to describe how I felt knowing that Jesus was right then and there too with me, grieving with me, holding my hand and also praying, holding my Dad's hand. Isn't there some saying somewhere about heaven and earth meeting in the Eucharist?
I thank God for the gift of my father's life, through whom I received the gift of my own life. I thank God for the gift of my Catholic faith, which once again was passed on (in part) by my father.
God bless you, Dad. I love you. I miss you.
The day after my last post, Sept. 23, my brother called in the early afternoon to tell me my dad had taken a turn for the worse. (You might recall a post from June, the last time I had seen him.) I had already made plans to come into town Oct. 3-5 to see him. But thanks to the encouragement of my husband (and his assurance that the kids would be fine in my absence), I changed my travel plans and left that evening (the feast of St. Padre Pio! Thank you, St. Pio, for your intercession).
I wasn't sure if I'd make it in time to see my dad. I did. My other siblings who also live outside Chicago came in as well, so we were able to have someone with my Dad 24 hours. But I was scheduled to leave that Sunday. My brother went home then, too. My sister left Tuesday. Dad was still with us.
I said many prayers on Oct. 1, the feast of St. Therese. Dad hung in there. On Friday, Oct. 2, the feast of the Guardian Angels, my Dad's guardian angel led him home at last. He was 78 years old.
Another trip to Chicago, this time with Terry. I agonized over whether or not to bring the kids. Terry advised against it. I listened to him. Did I mention he gives good advice? The wake and funeral were so comforting. I got to see old friends and meet people -- friends of siblings, friends and coworkers of my father's -- I wouldn't have otherwise met. That's the bittersweet part about a loved one dying, I think.
I wasn't feeling so well as we walked into the chapel for the funeral. Too hard to fight the tears. But then I sat down and gazed at the tabernacle. "Comforting" is the best word in a pool of inadequate words to use to describe how I felt knowing that Jesus was right then and there too with me, grieving with me, holding my hand and also praying, holding my Dad's hand. Isn't there some saying somewhere about heaven and earth meeting in the Eucharist?
I thank God for the gift of my father's life, through whom I received the gift of my own life. I thank God for the gift of my Catholic faith, which once again was passed on (in part) by my father.
God bless you, Dad. I love you. I miss you.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Adjusting
A funny thing happened just moments ago. I could've sworn I heard Tess' little voice asking, "Mooommy?"
But it was Peter, making some other noise, not calling for me. Funny that I should still hear Tess' voice even when she's not here. Just shows how much I miss her when she's in school!
She's doing wonderfully at school. We're only about two weeks into it but she's adjusted so beautifully. The first couple of days she had butterflies in her stomach when we were getting ready to leave, but they've all but flown away now. I'm so proud of her. Of all of us.
When we go to pick her up each day, Peter gives her a big hug when he sees her. Tess' face lights up with a huge smile. One day, Peter saw a dandelion at the park and exclaimed, "I have to pick that dandelion for Tess!" He did, and he gave it to her when we picked her up from school. (Perhaps I shouldn't tell you how they argued the whole way home in the car. They love each other but they're still typical siblings!)
As for me, I'm surprised at how fast those six hours go by when she's in school. When I thought of all-day kindergarten before, I thought it would feel like how long Terry is gone each day, which is usually from about 7:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. So it's not so long with Tess. I love getting everyone (including myself) dressed and ready by 8 a.m. After dropping off Tess, the boys and I stop at the store or run an errand. It's the perfect time to go -- nobody else is in stores so early.
Tess also started soccer. She loves practices but is a little timid on the field during a game. (Except when she recognized a goalie from one of the teams, who is in her class at school. "Hi Charles!" she exclaimed, waving instead of scoring a goal. My sweet, sociable little girl!) She seems to like soccer, though, so we'll keep her in it for now. It gives her a good chance to get out and get some exercise, plus it's good for her to learn to play on a team, I think.
It seems like forever since I've written on my blog. I was surprised to see it's only been two weeks! School happens and life moves along. That's where I'm at these days.
But it was Peter, making some other noise, not calling for me. Funny that I should still hear Tess' voice even when she's not here. Just shows how much I miss her when she's in school!
She's doing wonderfully at school. We're only about two weeks into it but she's adjusted so beautifully. The first couple of days she had butterflies in her stomach when we were getting ready to leave, but they've all but flown away now. I'm so proud of her. Of all of us.
When we go to pick her up each day, Peter gives her a big hug when he sees her. Tess' face lights up with a huge smile. One day, Peter saw a dandelion at the park and exclaimed, "I have to pick that dandelion for Tess!" He did, and he gave it to her when we picked her up from school. (Perhaps I shouldn't tell you how they argued the whole way home in the car. They love each other but they're still typical siblings!)
As for me, I'm surprised at how fast those six hours go by when she's in school. When I thought of all-day kindergarten before, I thought it would feel like how long Terry is gone each day, which is usually from about 7:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. So it's not so long with Tess. I love getting everyone (including myself) dressed and ready by 8 a.m. After dropping off Tess, the boys and I stop at the store or run an errand. It's the perfect time to go -- nobody else is in stores so early.
Tess also started soccer. She loves practices but is a little timid on the field during a game. (Except when she recognized a goalie from one of the teams, who is in her class at school. "Hi Charles!" she exclaimed, waving instead of scoring a goal. My sweet, sociable little girl!) She seems to like soccer, though, so we'll keep her in it for now. It gives her a good chance to get out and get some exercise, plus it's good for her to learn to play on a team, I think.
It seems like forever since I've written on my blog. I was surprised to see it's only been two weeks! School happens and life moves along. That's where I'm at these days.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Sweet teeth
After Mass yesterday, Terry said to Tess, "Tess, I saw you kneeling and praying with your eyes closed after Communion. What were you praying so hard for?"
"Two ice cream cones," Tess replied.
Then, later after dinner but before dessert, Peter kept pressing for us to serve the cake.
"We'll have a little cake in a few minutes," Terry told him.
"I don't want a little cake!" Peter retorted. "I want a big cake!"
"Two ice cream cones," Tess replied.
Then, later after dinner but before dessert, Peter kept pressing for us to serve the cake.
"We'll have a little cake in a few minutes," Terry told him.
"I don't want a little cake!" Peter retorted. "I want a big cake!"
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Small but significant
It’s important for moms to recognize that all the small successes in our days can add up to one big triumph. So on Thursday of each week, we do exactly that, courtesy of Faith & Family Live. Here are mine this week:
1. My little girl started kindergarten yesterday. So far so good -- for all of us. Only a minimal amount of tears -- from me as well as from her. I miss her lots, though.
2. I cleaned the refrigerator! This week is kitchen week for FlyLady routines and the fridge is someplace I just haven't gotten to yet in the kitchen. Maybe next month I'll finally clean the oven.
3. I went shopping for clothes -- for me! I haven't done that since I've lost weight and boy was it fun. As a mom you tend to push things off for yourself, but some birthday money came in the mail last week (thanks Mom!) and I had a ball with it.
Can't wait to read others' small successes this week! Have a great weekend!
Friday, September 4, 2009
Recent observations
None of these is a blog post in and of itself, but put together they are:
-- James has been walking around like he owns the place: Head up high, shoulders back, stepping right then left like a Sumo wrestler. Yep, he pretty much does own the place.
-- The other day Terry referred to James and his "Sally Field curls." Yes his hair is getting long but it's awfully cute! Do we have to cut it even if it does make him look like a girl?
-- Earlier this week we were waiting at the deli counter at the grocery store, and Peter blurts out somewhat loudly, "Look Mommy! It looks like dog poop!" I scanned the deli case (where they have potato salads, etc.) to see what he was pointing to and I figured out what he was referring to -- stuffed Greek grape leaves! I tried not to laugh. He repeated it a few times, even after I acknowledged him. I hope no one lost their appetite. No one ordered any. I'm not sure if I ever will now, either.
-- James has started that oh-so-fun stage of "let's pull everything and anything we can off the shelves, tables and counters, and take everything out of drawers!" Mom dutifully follows him around picking stuff up. My back hurts.
-- Turns out you can use arguments such as "You're not going to fight with your sister on Mommy's birthday, are you?" or "You're going to listen to Mommy because it's her birthday, aren't you?" on your birthday! A little bit of peace for at least one day!
Have a great weekend!
-- James has been walking around like he owns the place: Head up high, shoulders back, stepping right then left like a Sumo wrestler. Yep, he pretty much does own the place.
-- The other day Terry referred to James and his "Sally Field curls." Yes his hair is getting long but it's awfully cute! Do we have to cut it even if it does make him look like a girl?
-- Earlier this week we were waiting at the deli counter at the grocery store, and Peter blurts out somewhat loudly, "Look Mommy! It looks like dog poop!" I scanned the deli case (where they have potato salads, etc.) to see what he was pointing to and I figured out what he was referring to -- stuffed Greek grape leaves! I tried not to laugh. He repeated it a few times, even after I acknowledged him. I hope no one lost their appetite. No one ordered any. I'm not sure if I ever will now, either.
-- James has started that oh-so-fun stage of "let's pull everything and anything we can off the shelves, tables and counters, and take everything out of drawers!" Mom dutifully follows him around picking stuff up. My back hurts.
-- Turns out you can use arguments such as "You're not going to fight with your sister on Mommy's birthday, are you?" or "You're going to listen to Mommy because it's her birthday, aren't you?" on your birthday! A little bit of peace for at least one day!
Have a great weekend!
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