Weekend Project Girl's Room Extreme Makeover

We've been hoping for a while to get Ben out of the portacrib in the office and into the crib in the girls' room. The first step in that process is to get Sophie out of the crib. And for that to work in the limited space we have, we needed bunk beds.

Finally we had a little extra money come in and we could afford to do what needed to be done. Last Saturday we went to Ikea to get the bunk beds for the girls. It was a major expedition for the whole family; that took the whole morning. The girls were in heaven, though. Ikea is fun for kids as long as you stick to the kid's furniture sections... and the food!




This past Saturday Dom and Bella went back while Sophie and Ben and I stayed home and they got two big bookcases. Since they will be holding mainly things other than books, I suppose I should call them shelving units; but that is so cold. So bookcases it is. The bookcases will replace two dressers the girls' clothes were in and a small bookcase that held books. They give us almost twice as much storage space because they are so much more vertical. Also it doesn't hurt that I pruned the girls drawers quite drastically. I've been needing to do that for some time.





While Dom and Bella were out shopping and getting free breakfast at Ikea, Ben took his nap and my sister and I rearranged some furniture and did a quick clean out of the girls' room. (I'm actuall not sure what Sophie was doing while we were rearranging things. Not getting underfoot too much and being generally not a nuisance, I suppose.) Yay for sisters! With her help, it didn't take much time at all.





I am so excited because we finally have room to put all three kids in one room. We also finally have room for there to be a space for all the toys and books and clothes. (Well, except for the boxes and boxes of baby clothes and out of season clothes for the girls that I removed from the closet. They will be sorted and reboxed and given away or stored in the shed.)





I still want to get baskets to contain the girls' clothes; but I do think this looks very nice as is. Ben's toys are on the bottom shelves. Then Bella's clothes are on the left and Sophie's on the right. Bottom shelf for shorts, pants and skirts; top shelf for tops and dresses. Top right shelf is for pajamas and spare sheets.





My rocking chair is in it's old place. For a while I thought it wouldn't fit with the new configuration. The closet behind it hold the girls' Sunday dresses. And on the top shelf are some puzzles and games with small pieces that I don't want scattered all over the place. The girls can play with only one thing at a time. Since Bella can reach them by standing on the chair, only Sophie really has to ask to play with them.





This shelf has about the same footprint as the old bookshelf; but it is twice as tall. All the books fit easily, plus now there is space for so much more! Bella has a little spot on to to store her treasures.





At the other end of the bed there was a little space. We didn't really want to pull down the hooks to shove the bed all the way into the corner. Also, I realized that it made a nice little nook that is the perfect place to park the bassinet and cradle. A little dolls' bedroom, if you will.





Here's a close-up of the inside of the closet with the chair pulled away so that you can see the former bookcase now re-purposed to hold toys. Formerly this space was jammed with bins of baby and toddler clothes. Those bins are now all over my living room waiting to be sorted. I guess I traded one mess for another! Since they are in the middle of the room, I now have a much greater incentive to actually deal with them.





Here's a closer look at the top half of the bookcase. I love the way stuff that was formerly crammed on top of Bella's dresser now makes a neat vignette. Bella loves that she can so easily access her stuff.





And here's the bottom half of the bookshelf. I plan to replace the floor fan with something smaller that can sit on top of one of the bookshelves so this space will be a bit easier to access. It's cozy but not hard to get at the books when the fan is not there. I'm thinking the board book basket might better be moved down to where Ben can actually reach it.


If you click through to the Flickr album, I've added additional notes to some of the photos.


I can't believe I had the energy to do all this. I also can't believe how much finishing this project has energized me to do more around the house. (Also, having a new vacuum cleaner has improved my housecleaning drive tremendously.)

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Domestic Church Photo Contest

My friend Dorian is looking for pictures of the domestic church for her new Domestic Church Flickr photo pool: "I'd like to see examples of how you integrate your faith life into your home through altars, prayer corners, decorations for the liturgical seasons, and outdoor displays."

She's running a contest too! The winner will get a $10 gift certificate to Aquinas and More!

Here are The Rules:

Rules are as follows:

Deadline is 11:59 PM Central Standard Time on Friday, July 30. UPDATED
UPDATE: New deadline is Monday, August 9. Whee!(I have made it sound super-specific in anticipation of the worldwide flood of entries).

You may enter as many photos as you'd like, but each photo should be of a different display - so, don't post three photos of the same icon taken from different angles.

Each photo gets you one chance to win our exciting prize. Who knows, there may be even more prizes announced later!

I am looking for photos from your home - indoors or outdoors. Photos of churches, etc., will be excluded. The point is to collect examples from your daily routine. They can be as simple as a picture of the rosary in your pocket (uh, take it out of the pocket, I guess) or as ornate as a display of statues of all the saints your family members are named after.

If we can get at least 25 different contributors and at least 100 photos in the pool, I'll dip into my Secret Prize Fund and add another $10 onto the value of the gift certificate. You'll get an extra contest entry for each person you refer who contributes a photo. They should email me to say "I was referred by Seamus McChurchy to enter your photo contest" so I know who sent them.

How to Enter:

If you're already using Flickr, you can click here and add photos. I am moderating all submissions, so they won't immediately show up as being added to the photo pool. If it's been more than 24 hours since you added a photo to the pool and you're still not seeing it, shoot me an email.

If you're not on Flickr, you can send me an email: dorianspeed AT gmail.com with photos attached. Please use "domestic church photo" in the subject line.

Even if you don't want to enter the contest, you should cruise on by to look at the great photos. I'm inspired.

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The History of the Covenant is the True Cause of the Cosmos

The history of salvation is not a small event, on a poor planet, in the immensity of the universe. It is not a minimal thing which happens by chance on a lost planet. It is the motive for everything, the motive for creation. Everything is created so that this story can exist-- the encounter between God and his creature. In this sense, salvation history, the covenant, precedes creation. During the Hellenistic period, Judaism developed the idea that the Torah would have preceded the creation of the material world. This material world seems to have been created solely to make room for the Torah, for this Word of God that creates the answer and becomes the history of love. The mystery of Christ already is mysteriously revealed here. This is what we are told in the Letter to the Ephesians and to the Colossians: Christ is the prototypos, the first-born of creation, the idea for which the universe was conceived. He welcomes all. We enter in the movement of the universe by uniting with Christ. One can say that, while material creation is the condition for the history of salvation, the history of the covenant is the true cause of the cosmos. We reach the roots of being by reaching the mystery of Christ, his living Word that is the aim of all creation. In serving the Lord we achieve the purpose of being, the purpose of our own existence.

Pope Benedict XVI, Meditation during the First General Congregation of the Twelfth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops (October 6, 2008)
quoted in Covenant and Communion: The Biblical Theology of Pope Benedict XVI by Scott Hahn

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Wandering Sophie

Yesterday I lost Sophie at the grocery store. We'd just finished checking out but the register was having trouble printing the receipt and I was waiting for a clerk to fix it. Suddenly a woman in a wheelchair by the door called out that there was a little girl outside calling for her mommy. I looked down and saw Bella but not Sophie and I knew. I called, Sophie, Sophie! and no answer. So I ran for the door and looked out and there was little Sophie in her bright pink dress, looking quite distressed and unable to get back inside through the automatic doors that only open one way.





I yelled for her and ran outside and scooped her up as the lady in the wheelchair apologized (I'm not sure why.) I told her thank you and thank you again. I had no idea how she'd got outside. I held her tight and then scolded her sharply for running off and then told her how scared I was. She didn't say a thing. I think she was stunned. She continued to be uncharacteristically quiet all the way home, foregoing her usual chatter, though Bella filled in the gaps.

She has never wandered off before. Though she sometimes gets distracted while walking down the aisles and has to be called to catch up, when she is paying attention she stays close.





Prompted by a homily on Sunday, Dom has decided to set his cell phone to beep every hour and has designated each hour as belonging to one of us. The first hour to me, the second to Bella and so on. He prays for us briefly, his own version of the Liturgy of the Hours. How funny that it was his hour to pray for Sophie just at that moment that she was straying.





I know I can never keep my eyes on all of my children at every moment of every day. It scares me and yet reminds me too that I can't control everything. I can only pray always and trust in God and their guardian angels to keep them safe.

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Pray with Me?

Prayer of Saint Gianna Beretta Molla

Jesus, I promise You to submit myself to all that You permit to befall me,
make me only know Your will.

My most sweet Jesus, infinitely merciful God, most tender Father of souls,
and in a particular way of the most weak, most miserable, most infirm
which You carry with special tenderness between Your divine arms,
I come to You to ask You, through the love and merits of Your Sacred Heart,
the grace to comprehend and to do always Your holy will,
the grace to confide in You,
the grace to rest securely through time and eternity in Your loving divine arms.

Amen+


Updated to add: I really should know better than to worry my dear friends. I just realized that when one is pregnant one should be careful when asking for prayers because some dear friends immediately fear the worst. This is nothing very serious; just a cross I was having a very hard time bearing and a realization I didn't have to bear it alone when I have friends to pray with me. I've been suffering from terrible insomnia, that's all; but when combined with the ever-present exhaustion and nausea, it leaves me wrung out and very frustrated. Tired all day and longing for sleep and then tossing and turning all night unable to get any. And having a very hard time praying my way through it. The night before last was the worst yet. (And yet yesterday was actually a very good day. God's grace does suffice.)

Last night was much, much better. I don't know if it's that I skipped my afternoon nap, which was very hard to do; but I thought it might be interfering with my sleep at night. Or perhaps it's that I decided to see if taking some of my medicines in the morning instead of at night might help. And, of course, I'm sure all your prayers were very helpful as well. I still woke half a dozen times but was able to get back to sleep each time instead of staring at the ceiling.

Anyway, thank you, my dear friends all. Thank you very much for your prayers. They are very much appreciated by this tired mommy.

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Ben at One Year

Ben had his one year check up Tuesday. He'd gained more than two inches and yet was almost exactly the same weight. The doctor had me put him back on the scale and checked again. (He'd been screaming and trying to stand while we weighed him the first time.)

But he's an incredibly active little guy. He crawls all over the house, all over the backyard. When he's not eating or sleeping, he's in constant motion. (Check out these photos of him at nine months to see how much he's slimmed out.)

It seems like he's decided he's ready to give up his morning nap. I'm not ready for him to give it up; but it looks like he might be. Stubborn child who does things before I'm ready for him to!

I am not, however, opposed to him learning to walk. And he's getting very, very close. He regularly lets go and takes three or four steps into the middle of the room before he drops to all fours. He likes the idea of walking but he's still not all that steady on his feet and he knows crawling is faster-- wow you should see how fast he crawls! He's a busy guy with places to go and things to do!

Still, I wouldn't be surprised if he's walking by the end of the month. I won't be shocked if he isn't, though. He does things at his own pace.

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Narration, Untitled

Dear Elizabeth,

First, thank you for your beautiful words. Thank you for your story which has spoken to my heart and continues to speak, long after I have turn away from the computer.

I woke this morning in the wee small hours. Around 3:30 or so. Not unusual for me. I went to the bathroom, got a drink, went back to bed, expecting to fall back into much-needed sleep. But that didn't happen. Instead as I lay there in the dark, your words came to me and I began to frame a response.

Are we supposed to think in narrative? I don't think so. I think we're supposed to think--or not think-- in prayer.

Now these words struck me--very much so-- at the time I read them. But I hadn't really thought of them since. So it was strange to find them there in the dark and my mind narrating a reply without my conscious will. And so here, I'll try as best I can to reconstruct that middle of the night journey in my head which was, strange to say, both narrative, framed as a letter to you from the very beginning of that first half-awake, half-dreaming thought, both narrative and profound prayer.

You see, respectfully, lovingly, I disagree that we're not supposed to think in narrative. Or that there is a difference even between narrative and prayer.

Oh I take your point and I think it's a good and necessary one. Praise and thanksgiving, petition and intercession and the docility of spirit which allows the Spirit to speak in us with groanings too deep for words: these are the deepest language of our soul. Prayer is what we were made for.

But I also think that we were made to think in narrative. That is precisely how I think we were meant to think because that is the way God most often speaks to us, has spoken to us.

It starts with In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth and it ends with the wedding feast of the Lamb.

Or it starts with In the beginning was the Word. And the Word who was with God and who was God became flesh and dwelt among us. And the Word made flesh entered into the midst of a narrative, the story of God the Bridegroom wooing his wayward Bride, Israel. He entered into the story of a young woman named Mary and a man named Joseph. And during the years he walked among us, he taught us in the form of stories. He knew that if we are to truly learn to "Love your neighbor as yourself," we must not only learn the commandment but also understand the story. "A man fell victim to robbers as he went down from Jerusalem to Jericho," shows us what that means in a way so rich we are still plumbing the depths of that narrative.

Nor do I think prayer and narrative can be so easily distinguished one from the other. I began today as I do most days by saying Psalm 95. (I mean the deliberate beginning when I finally acknowledged the morning and that I wasn't going back to sleep.)

Do not harden your hearts as at Meribah, as on the day of Massah in the desert.
There your ancestors tested me; they tried me though they had seen my works.
Forty years I loathed that generation; I said: "This people's heart goes astray; they do not know my ways."
Therefore I swore in my anger: "They shall never enter my rest."

Narrative. The most basic prayer of the Church. Most of the psalms do have narrative as part of their poetry: the love story of God and his people. The story of a soul's relationship with her God. Can we really untwine narrative from prayer? Should we even try?

It seems to me the goal rather, should be not to leave narrative behind but to infuse the narrative of our daily lives with a spirit pf prayer.

I know I am wrenching your words out of context and that the conclusion you come to is basically the same as what I am saying here. And that we really don't disagree. After all, I have glimpsed the lovely way you teach your children the narratives of their faith, the love of the Good Shepherd. This then is really a letter to myself prompted by those words but moving away from your story and into one of my own. These are truths I needed to relearn and relive. But this narrative I received-- almost as if by dictation-- in the lonely darkness of a sleepless bed came in the form of a letter and so I have preserved them thus, a letter to a friend, a story that demanded to be shared.

There was more there in the dark, much, much more. All the stories of the Word unfolding in my mind, a glorious profusion like the spreading branches of a mustard tree: Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. Mary and Elizabeth, John the Baptist in the wilderness. The Samaritan woman at the well. Oh if I could recount the sweetness of that draught offered to my thirsty soul.... But some things defy words and perhaps I have already said too much. Suffice it to say that narrative was prayer and I couldn't untangle the act of composing a letter to you in my head from act of contemplation from the love letter to my soul that I received.

And i suppose that explains, perhaps a bit why maybe this should be a letter after all. Because it is above all a thank you note for a gift received, for a little seed of a word that bore much fruit planted deep in my heart. Thanks to you for sharing your words and thanks, above all, to the Author of all words who speaks in our hearts through these shared words, shared stories.

If anything I have written seems beautiful or true, it comes from the One who whispered to my heart in the dark. Anything false comes from this humble scribe, privileged to be a part of his story; but too tired to even contemplate revising this one more time. Forgive me if anything I have written here seems hasty or poorly spoken or at all a criticism of one I greatly respect and admire.

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Really Amazing Bread and Chakchouka

I had a high energy day yesterday. I guess sometimes it does happen!

I used all that excess energy to make a super fussy artisan bread loaf that was totally worth the effort. The recipe is here: The Power of the Poolish. (With many thanks to Auntie Leila for the link.)



It felt like I had to do something to the bread dough every five minutes or so. It totally ate into my afternoon nap. That's so not cool. I was afraid I'd killed it when I dumped it onto the pizza stone and it was a sad flat blob. My attempt to score the top was pathetic because I don't have a sharp enough knife. But it bounced back in the oven something lovely. And oh the crust was perfect and the crumb was light and airy and yet substantial enough to really hold the weight of a soupy, thick chakchouka.




Chakchouka. Have I explained to you the wonders of chakchouka? I thought I'd surely posted the recipe before; but I couldn't find it on our cooking blog. Must remedy that situation soon.

Here's a quick run-down, though.

First, you chop up some onions and get a variety of peppers, which you de-seed and cut into strips. Sautee the onions and sweet peppers in some olive oil.

Like this:




Next, you add some grated tomato and the hot peppers. The best is when you actually get some fresh tomato and grate it. I didn't have fresh tomatoes so I used canned ground tomato. It was still pretty good.




Then you stir in some salt and cayenne. Did I mention this is spicy? Once I made a dish of chakchouka even I could hardly eat. My sister and I refer to it still as the nuclear chakchouka. But most of the time it's edible. At least if you're from Texas.

Then you crack some eggs on top and poach them in the sauce. (Your best bet it to crack them into a little bowl and slide them on one at a time.)




I forgot to take a picture of it before the sauce went on top of the eggs. I spooned the sauce on top of the eggs as they cooked.

And that's chakchouka. If you want to be traditional, you can eat it right out of the pan. Just dip your bread in and enjoy. Or you can be American and spoon it onto your plate. It's all good.



This is the first time I've made my own bread to go with it. Usually I just pick up a loaf of something crusty at the supermarket. Now I may be spoiled for doing that, though. Which is a shame because chakchouka is a really quick and easy dinner. Great for Friday nights when it's too hot to turn on the oven.

There is something very soul-satisfying about making a truly spectacular meal. So what if the floors didn't get vacuumed? In fact, nothing got done except the making of the really good meal. (I just want you to know that lest you think I'm some kind of super woman. I made a really fabulous loaf of bread; but my floors are filthy.)

I had the last of the chakchouka for breakfast this morning after I came back from Mass. Mmmm.... heavenly! (By the way so was going to Mass all by my lonesome. A necessity, I claimed because Ben is teething still and wants to take his nap during our usual Mass time and will get very fussy. It felt like a super self-indulgence though to slip away with no kids. So quiet and peaceful.)

Anyway, that's the story of the bread and the chakchouka. If you want the actual recipe, let me know and I'll post it.

Now I'm going to go have the last slice of bread with some Nutella. (Don't tell the kids.)

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Ben's Birthday Video

Please note, Ben's new bowls are in proper rainbow order. Very important, that.

I did not make a homemade cake; we had a Boston Cream Pie from the supermarket. Very yummy. Not that Ben would know.

I love the way Ben smiles and glances at me when we start singing. Oh that warms my heart.

I still can't believe my baby is one!

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New on the To Be Read Pile

Ben isn't the only one who got presents yesterday. Check out the three latest additions to my bedside reading pile: Small Steps for Catholic Moms, The Handbook for Catholic Moms: Nurturing Your Heart, Mind, Body, and Soul, and How Do You Tuck In a Superhero?: And Other Delightful Mysteries of Raising Boys! (I know you will kindly ignore the dust on my dresser. That's left over from Dom's installation of our new curtain rod. Cleaning it up is on my to do list today. We won't discuss how long ago Dom put up said curtain rod.)

Dom's latest hobby has been rounding up spare change and turning it into Amazon credit. The Coin Star machines at the local supermarket don't charge fee if you get credit instead of cash, which is no hardship to us. So we had a bit of credit and when I ordered Ben's presents, I added a few treats I've been longing to have for myself.

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To My Son Benedict on His First Birthday

"The course of true love never did run smooth..."




One year ago, today.... It's hard to believe.




Your arrival, my Benedict, was not easy. But oh when I first set eyes on you, my love, my heart melted-- as I knew it would-- and of course none of it mattered in the least.




My handsome young man!




It was love at first sight.




Soon, soon, you were snuggled where you belonged right next to my heart.




This first year has not always been easy. It has known its moments of heartache and well, I'd like to promise you that things from here on out will be better; but I'm afraid there will be more pain in store for you. But I hope and pray that overshadowing all the pains and trials of life there will be joy; just as there has been for me this past year.




You have brought me joy in abundance. Every day I rejoice at your smile, your laugh. You are my sunshine boy. And I love you, my dearest Benedict.




May God bless you today and every day of your life and may we both one day reach our home with Him where there will be no more pain, only joy.





Too tired to even try a bite of your cake, stubborn boy. You shook your head and would have none of that strange stuff. But you played with your presents and laughed with your sisters. And splashed in your bath and then let me know when you were too tired even for splashing.




Then you snuggled in sweet with your blanket and closed your eyes with a little laugh and went to sleep.

Good night, sweet prince: And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

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Random end of day thoughts (with pictures)

I feel like the words are bottled up inside. No time to let them out.

(Well I did write a blog post today. But it was whiny and I figured no one else needed to attend my pity party.)

So instead here are some pictures.

First, Ben:



I put him in one of Bella's shirts on Sunday after he'd got his own shirt thoroughly filthy at my brother-in-law's Fourth of July pool party. I'd forgotten to put a spare shirt in the bag for Ben. Or rather, the spare shirt in there was size 6-9 months. No way he'd fit in that! At least we did have a shirt in there that wasn't all flowers and pink butterflies. Preserved his masculine dignity.

This is him in the shirt Monday morning.




I think it makes him look rather waif-like, though. Most of his own clothes are now rather on the tight side and make him look rather big.



There were many people at the party I hadn't seen since the last Fourth of July. I was huge then and kept telling everyone I was going to have my c-section in five days. It doesn't seem like that long ago!


Next, tonight's dinner.



White chicken chili, using leftover grilled chicken and grilled yellow squash from Saturday. Mmmm. Not quite as good as enchiladas would have been. But it was too hot to run the oven. The squash was a brilliant last minute addition that totally made the dish.




Sauteed turnips. Bought Saturday at the farmer's market. I wish I'd taken a before shot. These were little, about the size of the (large) radishes we bought from the same farmer. I think she said the variety was butter turnips. At any rate, not what you get from the grocery store.

I sauteed them in butter and olive oil with some red onions. Let them get brown and a little crispy. They were heavenly. Dom had to fight me to get some. (Fortunately for me the girls refused to try. I didn't push the issue much.) A little sweeter than potatoes and with a slightly different texture.

There is so much else I want to write; but it is my bedtime. Now it's time for me to turn into a pumpkin. Good night.

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IN CONGRESS, JULY 4, 1776.

THE UNANIMOUS
DECLARATION
OF THE
THIRTEEN UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

WHEN, in the Course of human Events, it becomes necessary for one People to dissolve the Political Bands which have connected them with another, and to assume, among the Powers of the Earth, the separate and equal Station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's GOD entitle them, a decent Respect to the Opinions of Mankind requires that they should declare the Causes which impel them to the Separation.

We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed, by their CREATOR, with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles, and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that Governments long established, should not be changed for light and transient Causes; and accordingly all Experience hath shewn, that Mankind are more disposed to suffer, while Evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the Forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long Train of Abuses and Usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object, evinces a Design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their Right, it is their Duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future Security. Such has been the patient Sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the Necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The History of the present King of Great-Britain is a History of repeated Injuries and Usurpations, all having in direct Object the Establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid World.

HE has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public Good.

HE has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing Importance, unless suspended in their Operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.

HE has refused to pass other Laws for the Accommodation of large Districts of People, unless those People would relinquish the Right of Representation in the Legislature, a Right inestimable to them, and formidable to Tyranny only.

HE has called together Legislative Bodies at Places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the Depository of their public Records, for the sole Purpose of fatiguing them into Compliance with his Measures.

HE has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly Firmness his Invasions on the Rights of the People.

HE has refused for a long Time, after such Dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining, in the mean Time, exposed to all the Dangers of Invasion from without, and Convulsions within.

HE has endeavoured to prevent the Population of these States; for that Purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their Migrations hither, and raising the Conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.

HE has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.

HE has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the Tenure of their Offices, and the Amount and Payment of their Salaries.

HE has erected a Multitude of new Offices, and sent hither Swarms of Officers to harrass our People, and eat out their Substance.

HE has kept among us, in Times of Peace, Standing Armies, without the Consent of our Legislatures.

HE has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.

HE has combined with others to subject us to a Jurisdiction foreign to our Constitution, and unacknowledged by our Laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

FOR quartering large Bodies of Armed Troops among us:

FOR protecting them, by a mock Trial, from Punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:

FOR cutting off our Trade with all Parts of the World:

FOR imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:

FOR depriving us, in many Cases, of the Benefits of Trial by Jury:

FOR transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended Offences:

FOR abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an arbitrary Government, and enlarging its Boundaries, so as to render it at once an Example and fit Instrument for introducing the same absolute Rule into these Colonies:

FOR taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:

FOR suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with Power to legislate for us in all Cases whatsoever.

HE has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection, and waging War against us.

HE has plundered our Seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our Towns, and destroyed the Lives of our People.

HE is, at this Time, transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to complete the Works of Death, Desolation, and Tyranny, already begun with Circumstances of Cruelty and Perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous Ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized Nation.

HE has constrained our Fellow-Citizens, taken Captive on the high Seas, to bear Arms against their Country, to become the Executioners of their Friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.

HE has excited domestic Insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the Inhabitants of our Frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known Rule of Warfare, is an undistinguished Destruction, of all Ages, Sexes, and Conditions.

IN every Stage of these Oppressions we have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble Terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated Injury. A Prince, whose Character is thus marked by every Act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the Ruler of a free People.

NOR have we been wanting in Attentions to our British Brethren. We have warned them, from Time to Time, of Attempts by their Legislature to extend an unwarrantable Jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the Circumstances of our Emigration and Settlement here. We have appealed to their native Justice and Magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the Ties of our common Kindred to disavow these Usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our Connexions and Correspondence. They too have been deaf to the Voice of Justice and of Consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the Necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the Rest of Mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

WE, therefore, the Representatives of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, in GENERAL CONGRESS Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the World for the Rectitude of our Intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly Publish and Declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be, FREE AND INDEPENDENT STATES; that they are absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political Connexion between them and the State of Great-Britain, is, and ought to be, totally dissolved; and that as FREE AND INDEPENDENT STATES, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which INDEPENDENT STATES may of Right do. And for the Support of this Declaration, with a firm Reliance on the Protection of DIVINE PROVIDENCE, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honour.

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Chalking in the Driveway

What a perfect way to spend some time on a Saturday afternoon. The girls have never used their sidewalk chalk anywhere but on their easel. I thought it was time to introduce them to what sidewalk chalk is really for.

Everyone got very messy and had much fun. Ben loved crawling through the chalk drawings and trying to eat the big chunks of chalk. Sophie did more hopping and asking questions than drawing. Bella kept asking Why?

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Night Waking

I never thought I'd be filled with so much longing for night wakings and sleepy nursing babies. But now that Ben has decided to suddenly quit, much, much sooner than I was ready for him to, suddenly, I read other mothers' complaints about frequent night nursings with quite a different feeling. Yes, I'm more than a little jealous.

That's so petty, isn't it? Of course, I know how silly it is to compare one trial to another. All are equally terrible when you are in the midst of them. Still, misery sometimes leads us to silly thoughts, especially late at night. The thing is after three children the sleeplessness of frequent wake ups is a familiar trial. Where I am now is new and thus seems much harder to bear.





Late last night-- who knows how late-- I woke to a small cry from the baby monitor. Ben moaning in his sleep. Once. Twice. Then silence. Asleep again, if indeed he ever really woke at all.

In the dark then, awake, I drifted, unable to fall back to sleep. Almost forgetting what woke me in the first place. Trying to pray.

Meditating word by word on the Nunc dimittis, the canticle of Simeon used in Compline. Lord, now you let your servant go in peace. I spend a short eternity just repeating, Lord... Lord... Lord before I move on to now.

And then I come to My own eyes have seen the salvation... As I often do, I imagine old Simeon taking the baby from Mary's arms. Holding the baby, old eyes gazing at the ancient, eternal Word. And as I imagine that newborn baby, suddenly I feel him in my arms, cradled near my breast. Warm and soft and sweet. And a pit opens within me and a sword pierces my heart. I feel a baby boy next to me in the bed, a warm little body sleeping next to mine.

Oh, my baby boy, how I miss you! I thought I was ready for you to be all big and sleeping on your own but you have grown up too fast and I feel helpless at your pain when I can't give you the most basic comfort a mother gives to her baby.

Dear Lord, please let me have one more time with this baby boy in my arms. Let him turn to me once again for that comfort that I long to give him. The give and take and sweet closeness of a nursing child sleeping and sucking in his mother's arms. Feeding and being fed.

Oh how I hunger to feed. I thirst to give him suck. I feel dry and empty. Forlorn. I mourn the loss of something I took too much for granted. I didn't realize how precious it was until it was too late.





This afternoon we came back late from the farmer's market. Long past nap time. At least Ben fell asleep in the car and I was able to put him into his bed. (Sophie didn't fall asleep and it took forever to get her to calm down and stop fighting the sleep once we got home. I must have sang twenty songs at least.)

But he didn't sleep long because, of course, I hadn't given him any medicine for his teething pain. When it wore off he was up and screaming and nothing I could do would calm him. Back arching, clawing at his own face and at mine. Even after I'd administered orajel and ibuprofen, he was overtired and it wasn't cutting the pain fast enough. Poor miserable baby. Finally, Dom bundled him into the car and they drove around for an hour while I tried to rest.

Ben never did sleep in the car but he calmed down to moaning at least rather than screaming. Something to divert his mind from the pain. Neither of the girls suffered quite like this from teething. And yet I've taken him in twice and the pediatrician assures me that's what this is. We are now on the third week of this. I hate to keep him on pain medication for so long. But today I saw what happens when I don't give it to him. I guess teething just hits some babies harder than others.

And so he sleeps in the office, soundly all night long and I sleep in my room. I shouldn't complain. A mother's dream. And yet now I wish he'd wake and beg me to nurse. I'd hold him and rock him for as long as he wanted to stay there. I know he still needs me. I'm still his mommy (even if he still doesn't say it) and his home base. More place than person. Just no longer a comfort in quite the way I want to be.

My baby boy who will be one on Friday. Growing up way too fast!





Just so we're clear, look at the photos. He's generally a happy little guy except when he's getting tired and he needs his next dose of painkillers. I'm generally happy too. Except when I'm tired and need to get a better sense of perspective. Writing is my painkiller of choice.



Update, Sunday morning: I missed Mass this morning, staying home with the cranky boy so he could get in his regular nap; but Dom pointed me to this morning's first reading. Apropos.

Thus says the LORD:
Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad because of her,
all you who love her;
exult, exult with her,
all you who were mourning over her!
Oh, that you may suck fully
of the milk of her comfort,
that you may nurse with delight
at her abundant breasts!
For thus says the LORD:
Lo, I will spread prosperity over Jerusalem like a river,
and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing torrent.
As nurslings, you shall be carried in her arms,
and fondled in her lap;
as a mother comforts her child,
so will I comfort you;
in Jerusalem you shall find your comfort.

When you see this, your heart shall rejoice
and your bodies flourish like the grass;
the LORD's power shall be known to his servants.

It's one of my favorite passages anyway; but today it has a special poignancy. Certainly if there is one thing the heartaches of being a mother has done for me, is to help me know how great must our Father's love be for us.

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