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While talking to a dear girlfriend from childhood the other day, the topic of how we teach our kids about the faith came up. Beyond meal prayer, night prayer, and weekly mass. How do we discuss and teach our faith while wiping bottoms, thawing food for dinner, picking up toys, maybe working on alphabets & reading, and calming fervored tantrums? I went to a state university and when I landed at the Catholic law school where I met my former-seminarian husband, I hadn’t been at Catholic school since the sixth grade. The task of being Catholic in the home had initially seemed like a specific subject to teach. Like table manners. Or reading. But as my kids grow, and their love and understanding of our faith…
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SuperBoy eating compost, a few summers back. Wowzer! He is going to tell it like it is: dirty & fun. But first, a more recent post of 5 essentials I LOVE having as a mom. And the nine BEST toys for baby before 1 year. 1) Apparel a) Wrap, sling, carrier, baby backpack–I really only use my Sakura Bloom and my Ergo or Boba. For hiking I use a phil&teds. b) Clothing, layette, pacifier chain or holder I have my infant capsule wardrobe here, my tot one here, and my pre-k one here. My kids live in cotton onesies + leggings with maybe a sweater tossed on top! c) Sleep sacks, swaddlers, wearable blankets, swaddle blankets d) Socks You only need two kinds of socks for infants. Triple roll…
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Is it almost worse to criticize your spouse in your head? I can get on a real roll doing it there. No interruptions. No reality checks. No actual communications with him. Just me and my imagination. 1) Stop Thought. Literally. I block the cascading scene in my mind. I stop it and I tell myself you love him. It’s easy for me to feel the litany of not only what I saw him do “wrong”–as in, not my way, but playing the scenario out and getting my blood pressure up with it. Now you’re probably a really tranquil and balanced person who always sees all sides and doesn’t ever have irrational fits of self-righteousness. Good for you. For me, I’m the self-righteous one. Yikes. That lady.…
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It’s Friday. That means you get a seven point chop up of my life for the week. And hop to Kelly’s blog to see a ton of other blogger’s 7 Quick Takes too! Highlight of my week? Seeing Haley and her family and then watching our kids enjoy enjoy enjoy themselves. She’s embarked on a wild adventure #crosscountrycarrots on social media. Look at our kids demolishing their popsicles <– new fav makers of them! The kids have no idea it’s all fruit and vegetables and very little juice. 1) Deodorant. Let’s talk about a paste you apply swiftly to your stinky underarms when you haven’t showered for a day or three, and need to go another day. I get in the bath regularly with the…
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Brace yourself for an avalanche of cliches. And one grainy iPhone pic. My freshly-minted, five-this-summer, clever and bold son learned to ride his bike this week. We were talking on Saturday and I said, “You want to ride your bike without training wheels? I think you’re ready.” His response? “Let’s do this thing!” Can you tell he listens near daily to Twins Sports Talk on the radio? He occasionally demonstrates a broadcaster voice subconsciously. This was one of those times. AA pealed off the training wheels and the gaggle of us five struggled and strutted down the driveway. I kept saying things in a low, confident voice like Balance equal weight on both feet and handle bars or a random where you look is where you go or…
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I was dubious. Couldn’t I teach my children everything? (including how to pick up trash as shown above?) I mean, come on. I am a devoted mother. I am an educated woman. I’m at home with them. Clearly I’m their only-ever teacher on every-thing-except-Calculus-don’t-ask-me-how-I-survived-AP-Calc. Another big wrong-o lesson for this insufferable woman over here living at my house and wearing my favorite target pj dress with built in bra that’s not fit for wearing all day like I do. This summer we had the extreme fortune of a handful of dedicated and lovely young lady teachers for the kids. I couldn’t love them more. And neither could the kids. From my little feisty lady’s music class wherein she daydreamed before class about how she and Teacher…
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