The Wine-Dark Sea

It’s a cliche to say I can’t believe how time has flown; but it’s really amazing to me that my baby is one today. Though the evidence is before my eyes every day: he’s toddling around, sneaking out the back door when I’m not looking, grabbing food left on the table and pulling everything off shelves and out of bins. He’s getting to be a little boy and I keep wondering where my baby has gone.

I’m short on words today because I can’t stop looking at all these pictures. So I’ll just leave you with a few of my favorites.

What? You should have seen all the pictures that didn’t make the cut!

Happy birthday, my sweet Nini boy. I love you more than I can say.

My gang, enjoying today’s beautiful weather. Is it February or April?

1. So our Valentines Day was very nice, though low key. Dom brought me flowers and chocolates and a card…. and BBQ take-out because I totally lost it over figuring out what to do for dinner. The kids and I made Valentines cards. Or I tried to make one. When Dom came home mine was still unfinished. Not that he minded at all.

Paper dolls, Bella style.

2. After a while though Bella got bored with pasting hearts on paper and began to make her own creations. She brought me an “outfit” that she had made.

A beautiful bride!

A tall yellow dress form with arms and blue shoes. She told me it was a wedding dress. Later she added a blue head and a blue veil that was longer than the dress. Then she drew a face on it and added a heart sticker.

Bride doll with veil

She also made a black bridesmaid with green high heels. And a family, mom, dad, and children that never got heads.

Bridesmaid with green high heels

Sophie’s children

Sophie made some people too, figures cobbled together with little scraps of red paper.

3. Have I mentioned that Anthony is walking now? He’s been making strides for weeks and now he’s probably at about 75-80% walking to about 25-20% crawling. He’s slimmed down considerably, just as everyone said he would, though he’s still a pretty chubby guy. And he’s going to be one on Monday!

4. Today Ben had me reading Curious George backward. He likes to open books to the back. This time he was turning the pages for me while I nursed Anthony. I think he knew it was funny to read it backward. When we got to the title page he made me read it to him twice. And he laughed. At least reading backwards is a nice change of pace.

5. Bella doesn’t just play with beads, she becomes a jeweler making fine jewelry and selling it to support her family. I just love her imagination.

Bella at Ikea

Yet another reason to homeschool. I would be so sad to miss all the Bella stories if she weren’t here all day. I’d be sad not to see her playing so sweetly with her sister. Oh of course they fight; but they really are the best of friends and I love the way they work together.

Sophie at Ikea

Anthony at Ikea

6. This weekend we went to Ikea and bought some more shelves to deal with the overflowing clutter of the school books and art supplies in the dining room and the mess of the pantry. Then on Sunday we moved the furniture. The futon went from the living room to the office and two bookcases went from the office to the living room. How is it possible that both rooms feel bigger and more open? The kids all seem to be enjoying the change. We should probably rearrange the furniture every February.

Dom and Ben at Ikea

7. Today the weather was lovely and after naps we all went to play outside. I pulled Anthony around in the wagon, first with Ben and then with Sophie. Then Ben pulled Anthony. The weather has been so very mild this winter, a nice change from last winter when we were buried for months under feet of snow.

Ben pulls Anthony in the wagon. I couldn’t believe he could actually do it.

This week’s Quick Takes are being hosted by the lovely Betty Beguiles.

It’s really late now, after the feast of the Presentation so the Christmas season is gone no matter how you stretch the definition. But I wanted to write a bit about the books the kids got for Christmas and Epiphany. Perhaps it’s just as well that I’m only getting to it now because I can fill in a little about which have been favorites.

[Sorry about the Amazon buttons. I really prefer the look of the images without the “buy now” buttons; but they take twice as long to cut and paste into the blog as the pre-made button. And yes, we do get a little bit of money for the Bettinelli book fund if you buy after clicking through from one of our links. Thank you for supporting our book addiction]

I’ve already packed away the Christmas books so I can’t remember all the new ones we got. I know we did enjoy these two:

The Donkey’s Dream—we didn’t get to read it more than a few times before the Christmas book were packed away; but I love the way the book delves into traditional Marian imagery. The kids might not understand it all; but boy did they get it.

Joy to the World Tomie de Paola, a great collection of some of his best Christmas stories. It duplicates a couple we already have but it’s nice to have them all in one volume. And Sophie really loved the story of Los Posadas, though it was the way that you love a roller coaster or a haunted house, a delicious scare with the devils paired with the reassurance of the familiar Biblical Nativity Story characters.

Georgia O’Keeffe by Georgia O’Keeffe This isn’t a children’s picture book, strictly speaking, but I believe in giving kids books with real art and it is entirely suitable for young children. We’d checked this one out from the library last fall and the girls loved it and I loved it. Even Ben liked looking at the pictures. Georgia O’Keeffe is one of my favorite painters so I love being able to share her with my children. I saw an exhibit of her work at the Dallas Museum of Art many years ago and I still treasure that experience among all my experiences of looking at paintings. There is something marvelous about Georgia.

What is truly wonderful about this book, which I didn’t realize the first time we had it, is that it is a book by Georgia and not one about her. Consider these notes from her Acknowledgements for the original edition:

I wish to thank William Einstein, a painter, who died some years ago, for urging me in the early thirties to write about my painting.

He went away and I forgot about it until Virgina Robertson found the writing a few years ago and encouraged me to continue.

Juan Hamilton has helped me with this book for the last three years and has taken care of many details, from collecting the paintings and arranging the photography to working with the color proofs and layout.

I love that the text is all Georgia’s own words about her art rather than some art critic’s explanation. It is a delightful window into her own thoughts about the paintings and is so fresh and vibrant. Bella loved when I read it to her. She wouldn’t let me stop but kept begging for more and more and more. She said the words helped her to see the pictures and to understand them.

It’s a big book, large full-color panels. Luscious. This copy is an ex-library copy with that nice durable library binding. I don’t feel so worried about the kids paging through it because it’s already stood up to quite a bit and it isn’t new and crisp.

Emily by Michael Bedard pictures by Barbara Cooney
This is a sweet little story about a girl who meets Emily Dickinson. Even though Bella has no previous acquaintance with Dickinson, she loves this picture book. Of course, she’s already predisposed to love everything by Barbara Cooney. Reading this book along with A Snow Story has prompted Bella to begin asking, “What’s a poem?” She thought she knew but both of these books present very metaphorical definitions of poetry, which puzzle her because she is still a very concrete thinker in many ways. Some day soon I need to use this book as a launch pad to get us into more Dickinson. I think Bella would like that very much.

Emma by Wendy Kesselman illustrated by Barbara Cooney A story about a 72 year old grandmother who takes up painting when her family present her with a picture of her childhood village that doesn’t match up with her memory. I love the lesson that it is never too late to learn a new skill. Bella, Ben an Sophie, all seem to like this book. Recently they’ve been playing at being artists and I think this fits into that game nicely.

Joan of Arc: The Lily Maid by Margaret Hodges illustrated by Robert Rayevsky, a beautiful version of the story of a medieval saint. I love the medieval feel of the illustrations. It’s fun for us because I was able to point out that the girls’ beloved St Therese once dressed up as St Joan. So far she hasn’t become a part of Bella and Sophie’s playing; but I’m sure that day will come.

Saints Lives and Illuminations by Ruth Sanderson. This volume focuses on saints from the first centuries of the Church. (It does include Constantine, who is considered a saint by the Orthodox churches but not, I believe, by Catholics.) Many of these saints don’t make it into children’s saints books very often, so it’s a nice mix. Includes St Nicholas, St Lawrence, St Helen, St Ephraim, St Catherine of Alexandra, St Benedict and Scholastica, St Mary of Egypt, and many of the Irish saints. I love it. The illustrations are gorgeous and it’s a book worth lingering over. 

Psalms for Young Children by Marie-Hélène Delval. I was of two minds about this book. On the one hand I know from personal experience that children are able to appreciate the beauty and grandeur of the psalms without any need to translate them into simpler language. My children do listen as I pray the psalms and I can tell that the psalms speak to them. They speak to their hearts even if they don’t understand all the words. On the other hand, I do like the simple paraphrases of one or two main ideas from each psalm. They choose verses that speak to children’s various needs in prayer and I think provide a nice entryway for children into making their prayer into a real conversation with God, expressing their fears and desires, vocalizing their praise and petitions, in short the full range of human emotion and experience. So I would say that this book is not a substitute for introducing children to the richness of the book of psalms, the Church’s universal prayer; but a good supplement to such an introduction. Just as when teaching Shakespeare, I might have children read a simplified prose version first before diving into Shakespearian language, I see these versions as a way to highlight some of the main themes of the psalms in a plain, everyday language any child can understand.

The Library Lion by Michelle Knudsen illustrated by Kevin Hawkes A sweet story about a lion who loves story time at the library. Indirectly it’s also a story about rules, especially about the times when it is necessary to break the rules. Also about admitting you are wrong and seeing the good in people who are different. The pictures are magical, reminiscent of Robert McClosky’s Make Way for Ducklings. Ben, Sophie, and Bella all love it and request it; but it seems to especially speak to Ben.

Little Blue Truck, this book was one I picked up at Target on a whim to fill out the gift roster for Ben and Anthony but we have all come to love it. One of those rare books that has a rhyme and rhythm that is delicious to read, with plenty of fun animal sounds. It’s the story of two trucks: a friendly little blue truck who befriends all of the animals, and a too-busy, stuck-up dump truck. The dump gets stuck in the mud and Blue gets stuck while trying to help get him out. Then all the animals who couldn’t be bothered to help the rude Dump come to Blue’s aid. Despite their collaborative effort, the animals can’t budge the trucks until the little green toad saves the day. A perfect book for my truck-crazy boy.

Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed board book by Eileen Christelow. Ben loves to jump on my bed while chanting, “No more monkeys jumping on the bed!” So this board book was a no-brainer.

Shark vs. Train I’m not a huge fan; but I seem to be the exception. Ben and Sophie and Bella all seem to like this one. Ben and Sophie more so than Bella.

Rose of Lima by Mary Fabyan Windeatt

Actually not a picture book but a chapter book. Rose is my confirmation saint; but sadly this is the first book I’ve ever read about her. Bella and I loved it and it gave us much to talk about and think about. Today Bella was pretending to make a stations of the cross int he back yard just as Rose used to do in her garden. It has fired Bella’s imagination and that is the best sign of a book that has done it’s job. I’ve been inspired to dust off a full-length biography of Rose that has been on my shelf for years. It was interesting too how much Rose’s life was an imitation of St Catherine of Siena. I’m still slowly nibbling away at Sigrid Undset’s biography of Catherine and so was able to appreciate that aspect of Rose’s story even more. I’m finally really seeing the influence of my patron saint in my life, though it took having daughters who name their toy camels Rose and Lima before I really appreciated the first canonized saint of the new world.

1. Well, now that Anthony has been on antibiotics for a week and is feeling chipper again, Ben has an ear infection. Sigh. After several nights of crying at bedtime and being up in the middle of the night, he finally admitted it hurt and agreed to go to the doctor.

2. This morning I called the pediatrician and got an afternoon appointment. When I told Ben I’d take him to the doctor after lunch, he said, “My belly’s full.” So I tried to explain that his appointment was in three hours and not dependent on when or whether he ate lunch. No dice. “I want to go somewhere,” he insisted. I repeated that we’d go in about three hours. A few minutes later he appeared in the kitchen wearing his boots and holding his coat. Persistent little fellow. It makes sense in his world. We’re always telling him if he gets his boots and coat we can go. Thus, he’s got his boots and coat, we can go, right? So we went for a walk to get out of the house while Anthony slept and my sister stayed with the girls.

It turned out to be exactly what I needed. Fresh air, sunshine, a long stroll at a two year-old’s pace with a sweet little hand tucked in mine. I haven’t been able to get much of a break in the past few weeks with all the sick kids. I thought I desperately needed some time alone. A lot of time alone. But perhaps a walk with Ben was even better medicine for what ailed me.

3. Sophie began to cry as we were heading out the door for our walk, “I don’t want you to leave! I don’t want you to leave!” She’s still feeling pretty rotten. (In fact she claimed she had an earache but the doctor said they looked fine.) While we were walking I found a tiny pine cone and gave it to Ben. He was delighted and held it in his mittened hand for a minute and then declared, “I’m going to give it to Sophie. To help her calm down.” So sweet and thoughtful. My heart is melting.

4. Sophie tells me that Miss Irwin is going to fall off the holy mountain and die. Bella corrects her and tells me that it is called the Mountain of Death. And now Bella tells Sophie that she has to be the mean person who pushes her off the mountain. And Bella asks if Sophie will bury her while she’s lying on the ground with a burial sheet. Evidently Miss Irwin has graduated from firefighter to martyr. (Of a sort?)

5. Bella: “What kind of air is in a balloon that makes it float?” (The lady at the grocery store gave Anthony a free Super Bowl balloon on Monday.)
Sophie: “Affection.”
Bella: “No, it’s helium.”

6. Sophie’s most recent song has been stuck in my head: “Boo didda didda dadda, boo didda didda dadda, on Patrick Frank Day.” She says it means Christmas is coming. (To something very like the tune of “Did you Ever See a Lassie?”)

7. Ben found the train pajamas with the hole in the toe that I hadn’t got rid of fast enough and put them on tonight: “There’s a hole in my jamas! I want somebody to cut the hole off! Cut the hole off!”

The Mole subsided forlornly on a tree-stump and tried to control himself, for he felt it surely coming. The sob he had fought with so long refused to be beaten. Up and up, it forced its way to the air, and then another and another, and others thick and fast; until poor Mole at last gave up the struggle and cried freely and helplessly and openly, now that he knew it was all over and he had lost what he could hardly be said to have found.

The Rat, astonished and dismayed at the violence of Mole’s paroxysm of grief, did not dare to speak for a while. At last he said, very quietly and sympathetically, “What it is, old fellow? Whatever can be the matter? Tell us your trouble, and let me see what I can do.”

Poor Mole found it so difficult to get any words out between the upheavals of his chest that followed one upon another so quickly and held back speech and choked it as it came.

[. . .]

Recollection brought fresh waves of sorrow, and sobs again took full charge of him, preventing further speech.

The Rat stared straight in front of him, saying nothing, only patting Mole gently on the shoulder. After a time he muttered gloomily, “I see it all now! What a pig U have been! A pig—that’s me! Just a pig—a plain pig!”

H waited till Mole’s sobs became gradually less stormy and more rhythmical; he waited until at least sniffs were frequent and sobs only intermittent. Then he rose from his seat, and remarking carelessly, “Well, now we’d really better be getting on, old chap! set off up the road again, over the toilsome way they had come.

While putting together my retrospective post for my blogiversary, I stumbled across a comment in an old blog post that recommended a parenting book,
Tears and Tantrums: What to Do When Babies and Children Cry by Althea Solter. For whatever reason—I was busy, distracted, overwhelmed with an already towering reading pile?—that recommendation didn’t really register on my consciousness at the time and I never followed up on it nor until I re-read the comment last week did I remember that it had been made. But now it caught my eye and I decided to get it from the library. And oh I am glad I did. Sometimes the right bit of information at the right time catches just right and suddenly the world shifts and everything realigns and you are able to see clearly for the first time a new path where before there had only been a close thicket. This was rather like that.

The author’s thesis is simple: that tears and tantrums are the natural, healthy way of relieving stress and that when children are allowed to cry the recover from stress and from psychological traumas, both big and small, more readily. When crying is suppressed or denied children will find ways to cope, of course, but there will be repercussions in other ways as the stress is bottled up.

In general her theory makes sense to me, although I’m a bit leery of her theories about birth trauma and rebirthing. It’s the kind of thing that takes a truth I already know—that crying is a stress relief—and shows me how that truth can change how I approach certain moments in parenting. I think that keeping this truth in mind, that crying and tantrums help children resolve stress, will help me to be more patient with tears. Whereas before I was seeing them as something I need to fix, now instead of seeing my job as keeping them from crying, it is so much less of a burden to have my job be to merely be with them as they cry, so that they are not alone as they work through whatever emotions are overwhelming them.

But what is truly revolutionary is how it’s changed the whole matter of putting the baby down to sleep. I have been uncomfortable with nursing the baby to sleep, knowing that it is a poor soothing tool because when the baby wakes up he wants to nurse again, to recreate the situation in which he fell asleep. But the only alternative I knew f was the method of letting a baby cry it out, and that appealed to me even less. So there I was nursing Anthony to sleep and then nursing him down again and again for an ever increasing number of night wake ups. I didn’t like it but I didn’t know how to get him to sleep otherwise without abandoning him to cry alone in the dark. Solter’s solution is so simple and obvious I feel rather foolish for never thinking of it. She advocates that once the baby’s needs for food and dry diaper have been met, that you should simply hold the tired baby and letting him cry himself into a deep sleep. Oh! I can do that. In fact, Dom had already been doing that on the occasions when I couldn’t get Anthony to nurse to sleep. It’s just that Dom has less patience for screaming babies and so we never thought of it as a real solution to the bedtime dilemma. It makes sense too because often Anthony cries himself to sleep in his carseat while we are out and about. It isn’t very loud crying, just a soft kind of creaky moan that he seems to need to do to release tension and fall asleep. We’d already labeled that particular sound as Anthony’s sleepy creak and noted that Ben had done the same thing.

So for the last few nights I’ve nursed Anthony as we say prayers and read bedtime stories. Then after the other kids are tucked into bed I have taken Anthony to our room and held him in my lap while sitting on our bed. Every single night he has cried and writhed around for about five or ten minutes and then eventually found a comfy position, either on my lap or on the bed right next to me and gone to sleep. Every time his cries were not loud angry cries or hungry cries, they were most definitely the sleepy moaning cry that I’ve heard from the car seat so many times. I knew as soon as I heard that cry the first night that we were on the right track. Sure enough it takes less time for him to cry himself to sleep than it did for him to nurse himself to sleep. I sit with him until he’s deeply asleep and then move him to his bed. He’s been sleeping for hours every night and then waking up only twice in the night. I have been nursing him back to sleep at those wake ups because it is easier than letting him cry and he does seem to go back to sleep pretty deeply and let me put him back into his bed after the first middle of the night waking. After the second one he’s been staying in our bed until morning. This is a huge improvement over his previous pattern where he woke at least once before I was ready to go to bed and then woke again shortly after I went to bed and then almost always spent the rest of the night in our bed, nursing several times.

I really wish I’d read this book a long time ago when Bella was a baby. It would have changed my approach to so many things and I think would have helped me be more patient during various tantrums and fussy stages. It’s funny because nothing in it is really completely new to me but the way it introduces the topics was exactly the paradigm shift that I needed.

The bit about Mole and Rat seemed too perfect when I read it to Bella this afternoon not to include. My aim is to be able to be as sympathetic as Rat is and as willing to acknowledge when I have been piggish and failed to listen and to be compassionate to a poor sad little one who has as hard a time as Mole at expressing a need.

Homeschooling has kind of stalled out for us since before Christmas. It’s not that Bella isn’t learning, I’m sure; but formal lessons of any kind have fallen by the wayside as I’ve not had much energy for gathering myself into a purposefulness. So today it was a wonderful surprise to find ourselves stumbling into a little impromptu lesson inspired by today’s feast, which is one of my favorites.

It is a frequent custom, though it doesn’t happen every single day, for Bella to get a chapter from a longer book read to her while the boys nap. So we read her chapter of our current book, a life of St Rose of Lima. Then I read a picture book for Sophie. Then I pulled out my Bible to read to them the passage of the conversion of St Paul from The Acts of the Apostles, part of my resolve to read to Isabella from the actual Bible more often in addition to retellings from her various Bible story picture books.

After we’d read the story of Saul’s vision on the road to Damascus and his healing by Ananias and his preaching of Jesus, then I thought it might be fun to show them some art inspired by that famous story. I googled “Conversion of St Paul” and clicked on Images and found the Carravaggio that I expected and a Michelangelo. Then I found this great Biblical art website that has catalogued a most impressive number of images of the subject, four pages of thumbnails. We didn’t look at all of them, there wasn’t time. But we clicked through to see quite a few of them. We had fun trying to identify which figure was St Paul, where the light was, or where Jesus was. It was interesting to try to figure out why each artist interpreted the picture as he had. Then Bella told me that none of them looked like what was in her mind. I told her that if she wanted to she could try to draw it; but she said she wouldn’t be able to get it right. Bella and Sophie had no idea that this was a school lesson and they are developing visual literacy. They just had fun looking at the pretty pictures.

Some of the images we looked at were from illuminated manuscripts and one, by Fra Angelico, was clearly from a psalter with the square neumes of chant notation so I turned on my iPod and played the girls the Invitatory Psalm from today’s Divine Office podcast while we looked at the image and I briefly explained that the picture was from a song book and would sound something like the one we were listening to.

One image that caught Isabella’s eye was very colorful and very modern looking. The link took us to a gallery of images from a contemporary Chinese artist, He Qi. So we clicked through and looked at all the images in the gallery, and Bella was able to identify the subject of almost all of them, thus demonstrating to me both her visual and her Biblical literacy. She immediately knew the subject of the Finding of Jesus in the Temple, the Annunciation, the wise and foolish virgins, she identified an Agony in the Garden as Jesus on the Mount of Olives with the apostles falling asleep while he prayed. (Here’s the index to the gallery where you can see all of He Qi’s work. I’m in love and have spent hours staring at all the images in the galleries)

We couldn’t actually tell which character in Brugel’s painting is meant to be St Paul.

We had a nice little side trip because Sophie spotted the one picture that wasn’t a conversion of St Paul but an image of the Road to Emmaus. So they asked me what that story was and I retold the story in my own words. (One of my favorites, because my parents used to own a Catholic book store called Emmaus.) That led to Bella asking about why were the women in the upper room and us discussing whether the apostles taught Mary about Jesus or Mary taught them about him.

Then Anthony woke up long before we’d exhausted the girl’s curiosity, which is probably a perfect place to end.

Bella was captivated by this one but neither of us could figure out which figure is supposed to be St Paul.

We’re all still sick and the house is a terrible mess from days of everyone being too tired to pick up properly; but it was one of our best learning days in a while. Isn’t it funny how that happens? Isn’t it funny how this spontaneous excursion was so much better than anything I might have planned ahead of time? Why do I spend so much time worrying? If I just rusted more I would see that Our Heavenly Father has it all taken care of.

And now it is time for me to go to bed. I think today was Day 6 of everyone being sick. I’m ready for this saga to be over.

So here are a few of my favorite people celebrating in their own inimitable ways.

Bella sings the Twelve Days of Christmas to Sophie.

Sophie sings with the pretend pencil people: “... day our earth sets down in the wind… Now, they said, we’re going to sing a different song… Baby Jesus is born on Christmas Day… Baby Jesus is born on Christmas Day… Baby Jesus is born on Christmas Day… Baby Jesus is born on Christmas Day. That’s true. That’s true. Emanuflue… and ransom captive Is… Oh baby…”

Sophie’s bedtime prayer: “Thank you, God, for Baby Jesus lying in the manger.”

It seems like it’s been forever since I’ve done a quick takes post. 

1. This week in the stable: The angel, St Joseph, and the donkey are going for a ride in the school bus while Mary changes Baby Jesus’ poopy diaper.

2. I’m sewing again. A bit. I’ve decided a realistic goal is to do just a little something or other on one Sunday afternoon a month. No sense of having to get anything finished, just make a little progress on my ongoing projects.

Before I could jump into my ongoing project I had to placate three children who were utterly fascinated by the whole thing. I promised to make each of them a dolly quilt. Sophie’s was first. She picked a bunch of fabrics and I stitched them together and then used some scraps I had for binding. For Ben I used some pre-sewn scraps that I’d been fooling around with a long time ago. It came together pretty quickly. Bella opted for a more complicated bunch of fabrics and is insisting that the dolly blanket is for one of her cousins intead of for herself, which I’d be all for except I suspect the cousin in question is a bit old to be interested in a doll quilt.

I also made each of the big kids a dolly pillow using some squares I already had stitched together. All I had to do was make the final seams and stuff them. All of them are so happy about these little projects and it’s been nice for me to have something that was easy to finish and therefore had an immediate payoff. I’ve got some bigger projects that it will take much longer to finish. The last time I was actively sewing was before Ben was born and I was able to get bigger things done more quickly because I had larger chunks of time to work with. I now know I can make progress in smaller increments but it does take some patience when I’m not progressing as fast as I’d like.

3. Here is Ben’s dolly blanket. (I couldn’t find any of the pillows or Sophie’s blanket to photograph. Which is another difference between now and then. Back then I’d never have let a project leave my hands till I’d photographed it thoroughly.)

Here’s the back side:

I love the fact that even with a dolly blanket you can see he’s all boy. He’s put it on the iguana, which he insists on calling a dinosaur.

4. My sister is teaching Bella to crochet. I hope they both stick with it and don’t get distracted. It makes Bella so happy to be able to imitate her aunt and to make something for herself.

5. Ben found the box of tri-color rotini in the shopping bag and insisted he wanted some for lunch. When I said I needed to cook it first he threw a fit. Stubborn child!  Rather than admit he was wrong sat there with a bunch of dried pasta on his plate trying to eat it with a fork. Finally he declared, “I’m done!” and agreed to let me cook him some. At least he did like it when it was cooked.

6. The other day in the car Bella was playing a game in which she and Sophie were firefighters in New York City. This is a recurring game but this was the first time I understood the full context of the game. There’s a huge cast of characters: John, Frank, Bernie, Sam, Patrick, Miss Irwin, Miss Jelsie, and Miss Leen, who is the fire chief. Sam and Miss Jelsie are the silly ones. Bella is Miss Irwin, I think. Sophie is Miss Jelsie. I think the name Miss Jelsie comes from Sophie’s mishearing the words to the GloriaL in excelsis Deo became first in dusty’s deo and then in Miss Jelsie’s Deo

7. Last Sunday at bedtime Ben told me, “I told God no.” Not sure what that was about except that Father’s homily that morning was about Mary’s fiat and telling God yes.

It was all I could do not to laugh. At least I didn’t have to keep a straight face because the light was out. This was during his nightly 20 minute winding-down monologue, which would be hilarious if I weren’t so tired and wanting to just go have some me-time before going to bed.

Bonus take:

Is there anything in the world better than a sleeping baby on your lap?

Well, maybe a baby who really, really wants to take a bath. (This was about fifteen minutes after he woke up, about two minutes after he threw up.)

For more quick takes visit Conversion Diary.

Well last night we we survived Midnight Mass with four children with not a single child fall asleep or needed to be taken out. In fact no one fussed at all. Or at least not what anyone but me would have called fussing. Ben did whine and complain in a loud toddler not-whisper but I don’t think anyone who wasn’t our immediate neighbor heard him. And Bella did cry quietly when she realized she’d forgotten her blanket at home (Especially frustrating because the only reason she even wanted it was that before we left I’d prompted her that she might want it.) Anthony squirmed a bit and had one moment of exuberantly grabbing a bulletin and shaking it loudly during the homily. Sophie only beamed sleepily from ear to ear and hugged her blankie in tired excitement.

Abigail asked if I have a secret to getting four kids to Midnight Mass and if I’d post about it on my blog. While I’d love to take all the credit for our success, I suspect much of it is due to the temperament and personality of my kids (and perhaps that is in turn due to my temperament and Dom’s?) And even more I suspect that it is due to sheer grace. Though I can’t stress enough that having a third adult is a giant help—my sister who lives with us and who therefore can be counted as a second mommy when it comes to cranky toddlers because they have known her as a part of their immediate household all their lives. Ben spent the second half of the Mass, after he’d got tired of Daddy, in Auntie Tree’s lap. Had she not been there Dom would have definitely been out in the vestibule. Or more likely were she not in the equation we wouldn’t have gone at all.

Last year when we took Bella and Sophie and Ben we weren’t at all sure it would be a successful experiment. We were quite prepared to throw in the towel if things looked like they were going downhill. But it worked. And the stars in the eyes of my little girls made the loss of sleep and subsequent temper tantrums worth it. They were still talking about Midnight Mass as Advent began this year and there was no way we could tell Bella and Sophie that they weren’t going to go again. The only question in our minds was whether or not to try to bring the boys too. Last year, I’d assumed we wouldn’t try it again this year. There’s no way a 10 month old could cut it, I thought. And yet as the day grew closer, I was more sure that we should try. I still expected that I would probably end up in the back with Anthony; but I felt like we should give it a shot anyway.

And yes tempers were short today and children were overtired and cranky. And there will probably be more and worse repercussions tomorrow and aftershocks for the rest of the week. But they were all very good during Mass. And it was totally worth it.

Every time I looked down to meet Sophie’s eyes her face lit up with a glow that I can’t even begin to capture. Oh the smiles that little girl can give! And most especially when we sang her favorite song, Silent Night. She was in heaven.

Bella had a harder time; but even she doesn’t regret going. And though Ben spent most of the time complaining, his first words were wonder-struck: “Lights! Christmas trees! Look, look, Christmas trees! They have frost on them!” His not-whisper toddler voice carrying too-loud in the hushed church.

Dom says, and I agree, that walking into the church fifteen minutes before Mass began he felt like the guy walking onto the plane with four kids. It seemed like everyone was sizing us up and groaning in anticipation of the bad behavior of our little clan. But then after Mass many people came to compliment us on their good behavior.

Still, even if their behavior hadn’t been so stellar I might still consider the effort well worth it. Why? Because I can think of no other way of teaching them with our actions that Christ is the heart of Christmas. We go to Mass every Sunday. It is one of the prime ways my pre-school children mark time. So getting up for Mass on Christmas morning wouldn’t necessarily make a dramatic impression. But waking in the middle of the night and putting on brand new clothes and going out into the cold and dark to sit in a bright church… we are teaching them that Christmas is worth losing sleep over. It’s worth the effort and the inconvenience.

They get the magic of midnight Mass. Even Ben who kept asking, “Why is it dark? When is it going to be light? Why is it dark?”  Why is this night different from every other night? What makes Christmas so distinctive in their world, what makes it different from every other day and night isn’t only the tree and the pile of presents and the festive music on the radio… what makes it different is the magic of getting up when they are normally asleep, the magic of the church transformed into a bright wonderland of light.

Actions speak louder than words and the ancient practice of keeping vigil, of watching during the night hours, teaches our children more than any number of sermons or picture books, more than Christmas movies or any kind of lessons I can devise. This night is holy, set aside for God. We give him our precious night hours, we give up sleep so that we can be present at the manger, present at the feast. We come to adore him in the silent night. We come to listen to the angels delivering their tidings of great joy. We come to hear the proclamation and to sing his praise in the watches of the night. This is the meaning of Christmas not the tree and the trimmings and the presents and the food. If we want our children to understand that Christmas is about Christ, then we need to put the Mass at the center of our family’s celebration. It is worth the sacrifice.

Now, of course, prudence dictates that if your kids aren’t as calm and placid as ours, you might want to wait a few years. Our parish is small and Midnight Mass is not at all crowded. The church was, sadly, only half full. The Mass was not really longer than a normal Sunday Mass. If it were standing room only and we had to get there an hour early to get seats, I’m not sure we would have been there. If it were epically long, then I’m not sure we would have gone. If our kids were the kind that climb the walls, that run up the aisles, that scream and rant, that projectile vomit at the drop of a hat, then we would not have been there. So please don’t feel like I’m condemning you if your calculus leads you to stay away from Midnight Mass. Consider your children, consider your parish, consider all the factors and weigh them carefully. But one of the factors you should weigh in the balance is the value of wonder.

Consider the child whose eyes are aglow, who blinks and rubs his eyes and cranes his neck to see all that is new and different and wonderful as he gazes at the tiny baby in the manger whose birth is the reason for the candy that will make him sick and the presents that he will forget or the present that he will treasure. What will that child remember in years to come? What will speak of Christmas to him when he is older and living on his own? What seeds might you plant now and is today’s labor of missed sleep and temper tantrums worth the harvest he may one day reap?

As I watched Ben ask questions and Anthony stretch his neck to look and Sophie smile and Bella dream, I knew that we would be back again. Maybe next year, maybe not. We’ll see how things look then. But I am determined that even if we have to give it up for a few years Midnight Mass will be what my kids remember most fondly when they think about Christmases of long ago.

7 pounds 9 ounces (exact same weight as Bella.)

Practically perfect in every way. Looks just like his daddy.

see Dom for details

Truly sons are a gift from the Lord,
a blessing, the fruit of the womb.
Indeed the sons of youth
are like arrows in the hand of a warrior.