Friends & Family

I'm not really sure what to title this blog.  I currently have "Friends & Family," but that doesn't do it justice for what I want to talk about.

You see, my amazing super hero hubs and I have never lived near family.  In the nearly 20 years that we've been married, the closest we came was when we were about eight hours away from home.

Eight hours.

Wow.  That seems really close now, considering it takes about 13 hours on a good trip to get home.  Unfortunately, we've not been able to get "home" in many years.  Between the kids summer time activities, Christmas breaks being incredibly short, and winter causing us to stay grounded, it's been tough to get home in the last 3 1/2 years.

That's a long time to go without seeing your family.  Some have visited.  Some have called, and we are blessed for that.

But when you have a job like my super hero hubs, you get kind of used to "being on your own."  It's certainly not an easy task.  I can remember many times in the beginning of our marriage, moments that I wanted to run home and have my own family take care of things.

But as time has passed, we've learned to adapt.

It's been a difficult journey.  For many, many years, we tried everything we could to get back home.  Short of my super hero hubs using a "hardship" excuse, (meaning, his nutty wife needs to be closer to caregivers) we've been very unsuccessful in obtaining our goal.

Getting "home."

Home is East Tennessee.  If anyone has ever been there, it's actually one of the most beautiful spots in the country.  I know that's not saying much, considering I've never lived or been, west of Arkansas, (minus the Tulsa Zoo in Oklahoma, Dallas, and the Houston Airport), but it's saying a lot to me.  There is something there that isn't found anywhere else.

The Great Smoky Mountains.

Enough said.  If you don't know anything about those beautiful, breathtaking 'smokey,' mountains, well, I've just helped you plan your next summer vacation.

But the older we get, the more we realize that perhaps God has a different plan for us.  The whole idea of moving north to snow country was two fold.  One, his former supervisor was the catalyst at helping my super hero hubs realize he wanted more.  His job was draining him and he needed a change in scenery and a new title.  Second, it would make him more marketable and perhaps, open the door for a move closer to the Smoky Mountains.

Well, that was over six years ago.  Matter of fact, six years ago this week, we were driving the big 24 hour trip to snow country.  Stopping at family and friends houses along the way as we made our way to our new "home."

Six years ago.

I can't believe it's been six years.

I also can't believe, we're still not any closer to "home."

I'm wondering if  God isn't trying to show us that "family" means many things.  Also, maybe, just maybe, "home" means many things as well.

I am deeply reminded of this as we endure a rather horrific past week with a couple that have become "family" to us.  This couple, who are the godparents to our #7 peanut, are the embodiment of not only Christ and His message of love to all who meet them, but are like siblings to my super hero hubs and I.  We don't take lightly the task of choosing godparents.  It's something we begin praying about the MINUTE we become pregnant.  There are so many amazing people in our community, that the task of deciding which couple to choose becomes extremely difficult.  (matter of fact, can we adopt some as godparents for my other children??? Just kidding, my kids have awesome godparents).  When we had our surprise pregnancy, this couple really stood out the most.  The husband, John, was my oldest daughter's religion teacher and she just would go on and on at how "smart he is and he knows the Catholic faith so well!"  (her words!)  The wife, Tracy, literally took one of her daughters, who loves babies, out of school one day for a few hours to come babysit the little Taz #6, while I went to one of my daughter's parties at school!  That is the kind of giving people they are!

I can actually go on and on and on about how awesome and giving they are, but suffice it to say, the day they took all my laundry home with them, and returned them in brand new laundry baskets (she never commented on the condition of my own laundry baskets (or for the lack of) and for that, she will remain my sister in Christ until my death....), I felt a bond that only comes from being deeply in love with Christ.  And that, my friends, is what makes family.

A bond, so deep with our Lord, that love just emanates from their very being.  Two people, who have given their hearts and souls to one another, their beautiful children, and their church.  That kind of authentic love, is rare.

These two represent family, the way I always dreamed living by family would be.  Always there for you.  Wanting to be a part of your life.  Happy for the littlest thing.  (like being pregnant with #7...)

Now my family, our two very dear friends, are going through a very difficult time in their lives.  He has been diagnosed with a brain tumor.   And as brain tumors go, it's a good one to get, I guess.  A low grade one.  Hopefully benign.  But also, as brain tumors go, he's struggling with seizures and is in the hospital for an indefinite amount of time.  He had a biopsy, but that set off a round of seizures that medication has helped, but finding a balance between feeling woozy and gaining strength back,  is an ongoing battle.  They wait.  The neurosurgeon will watch and wait for pathology to determine a course of action for this tumor.  But  until then, he's struggling.

For my "sister?"  This has been a tough pill to swallow.  Seeing the man she loves, who has always been a man of great strength, both physically and spiritually, crumble under the power of this seemingly invisible poison, has been painful to say the least.  Her strength can't be missed as well.  Sitting with her at Mass the other day, I was literally blown away by her courage.

Courage.

Dictionary.com defines courage as 'the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear: bravery.  My friend, my sister in Christ, would be quick to point out she is not courageous.  She would be quick to point out that her husband, John, is the one with courage.

But I disagree.  Of course, her husband has courage.  He's facing the fact that he has a brain tumor.  Not too many people in this world have to face such a frightening fact.

But my friend.  My sister.  She has courage too.  And yes, it may be helped by the grace of God.  It certainly can be caused by the hundreds (I'll suffice it to say several hundred)of people praying all day constantly for the entire family.  But she has courage nonetheless.  Prayers can lift us up.  Prayers can keep us going.  Getting us out of bed.  Pulling us through the day.  But courage, does as well.  Sometimes, we take for granted how easy it is to get up every single morning.  We complain about the baby that doesn't sleep through the night.  We moan at the clock that buzzes way too early at 6 am.  We whine about our job that is this, that, or the other, you insert the appropriate complaint.  We tend to go through the motions throughout the day.  Taking for granted a phone call from a loved one.  Avoiding the call of a friend.  We tend to let ourselves get drawn into pity parties and act as though the sky is falling and no one loves me, I'm gonna go eat worms....

Ok, once again, having small children has resorted me to blend in children's stories into my blog.  It happens.

But real courage is knowing that people are lifting you in prayer, not necessarily "feeling" that Presence we long for, and getting out of bed anyway.

My friend, my sister, has real courage.

All of this has made my super hero hubs and I really sit back and take a look at all that is important in our life.

What is God's definition of family?  What does God say about family?  If we look at the New Testament, Jesus Himself says family will turn away from us because of our beliefs in Him.  The disciples spent three years of their life following Him, only to discover, all this "preaching and teaching" wasn't to bring about a new earthly King, but a Heavenly King!  Were some a bit disappointed?  sure.  Even when Christ Himself said to eat His flesh and drink His blood, those who had spent nearly three years with Him turned away.  Family!  Turned away!  Friends!  Turned away!

Real family.  Whether we define them as spiritual, physical, emotional, or what have you, real family sticks with you through it all.  They define the word, love.  They define the word  sacrifice.  They don't care if your house is a train wreck or if your laundry baskets are all broken and pathetic.  Being apart from our blood family, has introduced us to the beauty of friends becoming our family.  Every place we've lived, we managed to find some pretty incredible people who have become our family.  And here in snow country, it's no different.

They love unconditionally.

My husband and I have started praying together every single morning.  I'm lying.  We try to pray every single morning.  We read the readings for the day, the saints of the day (who KNEW there were so many saints in our faith and all of their stories are pretty incredible), we read the reflection of the readings, the daily prayer and then he and I pray a spontaneous prayer to Jesus.  Asking Him to bless and protect and watch over our families and friends.  Asking Him to guide us in our decision making, our marriage, our lives.  And lately, asking Him to watch over John and Tracy and their family. It's rather emotional as we pray because just like them, we strive to be that example to the world of what God wants in a marriage and a family.  Nothing makes one stop in their tracks and really count their blessings like seeing first hand a close family member suffering.

Things like that bring us to our knees.  We are helpless in the world of mortality.  We know neither the day or the hour when God will call us home. A reminder that we aren't made for this world.  We are made for something better.  Even though, the world wants us to believe this is as good as it gets.

 It's a very spiritual reminder of our own wedding vows.  We will love each other, through sickness, and health, til death do us part.  Sickness.  That word we think just means, you know, when you get a cold.  It's ALL sickness.  Mental, physical, emotional, spiritual.  ALL of it.

So many things this event with our family has reminded us of.  What is most important?  Well, that is up to you.  For me, and my house?  We shall continue to serve the Lord (Joshua 24:15).   We will trust that He is in control.  We will continue to love one another as He has loved us and we will pray.  And we will serve one another- including our dear friends who grow more like family to us each and every single day.

May today, we all wake up, praising God for another day blessed on this earth, even with all it's yuckiness.  May today, we smile a bit more, even when that child spills their milk on the freshly mopped floor, because let's face it, it's mopped and clean and craving a little spill.  May today, we not take one moment for granted with our spouse, or significant other, and perhaps, give an extra squeeze and linger a moment longer, just breathing in their sweet love.

May today, we realize how blessed we are and in turn, share that blessing with all we encounter.

And may we never lose sight of the greatest gift God gave us in His son, dying for us.  Giving us His body and blood, and loving us so unconditionally that it crosses beyond the friendship realm and into the spiritual family realm.

May the amazing God of the Universe shower you with abundant love today and always.  

My Jackpot Family

I have lost my train of thought with this blog about 492 times, please be patient as you try to navigate through this story and remind yourself that I haven't blogged in a really long time, so all my thoughts are piled in my brain so high, I can't even see the top....

So the Powerball Jackpot is at 500 million today.  That seems so ridiculous.  I mean, charities can't hardly afford to continue to offer food/shelter for the homeless and yet we have some insanely large amount cash people just keep dropping for lottery tickets....because that's what it is....every time we spend $2 on a ticket, we're building up the lottery...

I know, I get it.  It's our choice and even some states have implemented college lottery scholarships for people... (which I find interesting because I'm guessing debt for college is still outrageous).  Oh I know, every little bit helps and sure, for tax purposes, whoever wins will give a bit away (after Uncle Sam takes at least 1/3 in taxes-lest we forget that part....) but the irony to me is an article/blog/story I just came across this morning on my Facebook feed.  It's the "Global middle class and what it looks like."   Now as handy as I am on the computer, I still am hit or miss with figuring out how to post things, attach things, send things, so I'm not making any promises, but if I can, I'll post the story on this blog...

Actual Global Middle Class

Ta-DA!!!  I did it.  She did it...break into a Dora song now....

Now before people get their pretty little panties all twisted up inside- let me assure anyone who will listen, my husband was on strict orders not to return to his domicile unless he had a ticket in hand.  We only play the lottery when it's big.  REALLY BIG.  Like 1/2 a billion big.... So I have no intention of begging people to stop gambling their lives away.  Much like alcohol, food, medication, exercise, and the like, we must learn self control. We can not ban things because we've decided they're dangerous for a few, so take them away from us all.  God gave us control over ourselves, He left that to us-free will?  So people can play the lottery, I was just very emotional this morning in regards to the state of life in not only our world, but our towns, our cities, our very homes.

I rarely complain about my family life. I'm talking about serious family stuff.  Not my silly Tazmanian two year old antics, or crazy life as a mom of seven funnies.   I rarely feel the need to dump my silly family issues out there like dirty laundry mostly because when you have a big family, you're judged differently.  Not saying I condone judging, but people just look at big families differently.  We've heard it all, and then some.  Yes, we know how this happens, yes, we know could stop it, yes, we know it's expensive (well, that is relative, it CAN be expensive, especially if I tried to live like people with just a few kids who feel the sky has no limit), no, we don't have, nor want, a TV in our bedroom, yadda, yadda, yadda.... I could write a book about all the different comments/concerns and questions we've received in our lifetime of childbearing.... seriously.

But lately, my family has taken a real doozy of a turn in regards to how we treat one another.  I'm talking like pull up a chair and let's sit and discuss the Days of Our Lives, doozy...I used to love that soap opera until I realized what I was actually watching-

But for some reason, I'm feeling the urge to discuss my dirty laundry with people.  And boy don't I have a lot of laundry.  3-5 loads a day...

It isn't a mystery as to why I haven't blogged since the end of November....I have been swamped with Advent Preparation, Christmas activities, children who are sick.  The week before Christmas, one of my kiddos got sick and we haven't been well since.  Someone, every single week has suffered from one illness or another.  That, unfortunately, led to a lot of cleaning, bleaching, wiping down, laundry, and most importantly, stress.

Some say I must have the patience of Job.  I do not.  I am not Job.  I don't think I ever will be Job.  To think about losing my entire family, my job, my life, my whatever, actually makes me angry inside just a little bit.  I can readily admit my greed. I.am.greedy.

I just finished up a great book by Matthew Kelly called, Rediscovering Jesus.  It's really good.  Easy to read, and if you will pardon my squirrel moment, pointed out something I really have always known about myself.  He calls it greed, I called it selfishness.  Either way, I think the two words are synonymous in my book.  He recounts the brother of the Prodigal Son and how he was greedy, selfish and prideful.   Dang, that's me.  I'm more like the Prodigal Son's brother than I realized after reading that particular chapter.  I've always said I'm selfish.   I KNOW what you're thinking- how on God's green earth can a mother of seven children be selfish?

It's easier than you think.

I am selfish with just about everything in my life.  I swear that's why God put it on my heart to have a big family.  I can only imagine what kind of person I would be if I had stopped after one or two, or Heaven forbid, never had children.  I would probably be the kind of person who is very difficult to be around.  Not saying that I am something any better or more bearable now, but at least, having seven children, has in fact, lessened my greed.  Just a tee tiny bit.

I get tired of doing things right. I get tired of following God's plan all the time when I see people NEVER follow it, or just throw it away when they've carried it for so long or just decide one day, there is no God.  I get tired of trying to raise my kids to believe that God makes no mistakes, that the way we are born, the family we're with, the place we exist in, are not mistakes, but a part of a grander, larger, more complicated plan than we could ever imagine in our feeble little minds.

I get tired of denying my kids all the riches of the world.  Toys, electronics, trips to Disney, cable channels, computers, cars, (dear Lord, I will have a driving teenager next month- eek!) I get tired of having a budget and having to deny myself things when I really want them, or having to look at dirty, cheap ass carpet that the builder thought would do for this spec home.

I get tired of hearing all the garbage children try to spew into the minds of my babies that make this momma bear want to go out and throttle some parents over it because they're raising a generation of spoiled rotten brats (which, don't get me wrong, mine, ironically enough, recognize how "spoiled" they are...)

I get tired.  A lot.  Laundry sucks.  Dishes that never.ever.ever.go.away.  Floors that as soon as they are mopped become a friggin magnet for nice, full, glasses of milk.  Toys that magically appear under foot at midnite while getting a bottle for the baby.  Messy bedrooms.  That feeling when someone 'stops by' and your house looks like an episode of hoarders when they're showing the before pictures...

I get tired of trying to figure out where I'm going to cram six girls in a 4 bedroom house.  YES-recall above, I KNOW HOW THAT HAPPENED....

I get tired.  I try to keep it all inside, or vent it out when a girlfriend calls every once in a while, but mostly I try to keep it out of reality because heaven forbid anyone find out that me having seven children and trying to raise them with any kind of moral compass is exhausting work that I would not recommend for the light hearted.

But today, after seeing the global middle class pictures and story and seeing the 500 million dollar jackpot, it just set the ball rolling for me to really think about my own life and where my priorities are and what exactly is my own "jackpot" and how am I sharing my wealth with what I've been given.

My family has been slowly growing up and with that, are introduced to the real world, and it's hard.  As much as I would love to keep my babies in a nice, big, comfy bubble, they're being exposed to things I am pretty sure, I never had to worry about as a young child.  Sure, I wanted a Liz Claiborne purse and Nike tennis shoes, but I don't remember it defining who I was, or leaving an indelible scar on me.

This Christmas was supposed to be the 'best on record' at Crazycatholicmomma's house. I had worked so hard to make sure each child got a certain amount of gifts (I even vetoed the one gift from us, one gift from Santa rule)  I wanted every detail to be magical and beautiful and enjoyable because my oldest is a sophomore and could potentially just have a few more Christmas' at home with us.

Well, it was anything but the 'best on record.'  Matter of fact, after it was all over, I complained to my superhero husband that it was so bad and blah, blah, blah, people were sick, wah, wah, wah, we didn't even get to go to church together, I whined and complained like a big.ole.baby.

Do you know what that amazing man said to me?

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't the 'best on record' for Mary & Joseph either.

Wow.

That's it.  That is the jackpot.  Recognizing that even in the midst of the yuck, even in the midst of the being tired, remembering that God sent His only Son, not only as a baby, helpless, completely dependent on others to take care of Him, but completely displaced, no where to call home, in a cave/barn that animals fed in.  We all know what animals do.  I'm guessing it stunk like crap.  He was laying in a manger, which is literally a feeding trough that would become a sign of the future when He gave us His body and blood to literally consume.

I am no where near perfect.  No where NEAR as patient as God would probably desire me to be, most especially in dealing with the seven gifts from Him.  I am tired a lot.  I am greedy.  I am selfish, but I am, once again, clay in my Father's Hands.

I don't need a lottery, or lots of fame, or money to define who I am.  I don't need "things" to make me happy.  I only need what God desires of me.  To continually strive to be better.  People say our Church is full of hypocrites and that's why they leave, or just don't even bother to attend Mass anymore.  They're right in one aspect.  But where they're wrong, is God never promised to come and heal the healthy.  He came to heal the hypocrites, the sick, the sinners.  Us all.  What a beautiful promise.  What a fabulous reminder to me of why I do those things I sometimes get so tired of.  Thank you, Jesus.  Thank you, for once again revealing to me in Your ever so subtle way, just how much of a blessing I have been entrusted.  

Blessings to you this Happy New Year.  May you recognize your jackpot as well.  

Hee hee!

Fighting the good marriage fight....

I am writing a super important blog tonight.  Actually, I wrote it yesterday and the way it came about was really a gift from the Holy Spirit.  I have a very good friend.  She's awesome and I just love her.   Yesterday, she sent me a text.  It read, "At what point in your marriage did you get "good" at fighting?  John* and I are the worst.  (* names have been changed).  At least this one is over, but it was a whopper.  How to make it better?"

I honestly almost cried when I read it because it sounded so familiar.  So similar.  So much like my own life... Marriage is not easy.  Despite what our culture wants us to believe, to have a really, great, awesome, terrific marriage?  It requires work.  It requires sweat.  It requires sacrifice.  Our world would have us believe (and television/movies prove it) that marriage should be bliss, happy, love, sex 24/7 or get out while the getting is good.  If it's not those things, dump it and run. 

I'm  here to tell anyone who will listen, that's the dumbest way to look at marriage EVER.  

Marriage is anything but easy.  If you want a good marriage?  You'd better prepare yourself for battle.  There is nothing the devil wants more than to destroy good marriages.  Promote no fault divorce.  Encourage infidelity.  

Marriage is under attack in more ways than ever these days.  I could go on, but for the sake of my friend, I'll stay on track this time....

I wanted to text her back, but realized that it would be a mess to try and text a reply.  This deserved a letter.  I had so many different thoughts and words floating in my head and I wanted to tell her so much and assure of so many things....so I texted back that I would email a response to her because a text wouldn't do it justice.  

I sat down and within 10 minutes, I had what I typed below ready for her.  I also had  my super hero hubs sit down and do his typical revising and add his two cents to what I said.  Here is what we came up with.  Perhaps you can resonate with some of what we came up with.  

Dear Jane*, (again, names changed)

First and foremost, to consider my hubs and I as an example is such an awesome compliment.  Honestly, if you ask him, he’ll tell you I tried to do my darndest to mess up our marriage with stupid, dumb comments all the time.  We both did our share of pushing buttons (wait, we still do that… and it’s been 19 years??) But that’s human nature.  We are inclined to sin, we are prone to want our own selfish desires and wants and when we fight, it’s just our own selfishness at times, rearing its ugly head out.  No matter what we think we’re justified in saying/doing.  Both of us. 

The first few years of marriage I was really good at making him mad by telling him I hated him.  It’s how my family communicated with each other, so it was easy to just do the same to him because guess what,  he hated that phrase.  It would get him so fired up and we’d wind up in a yelling, screaming spat and on several occasions I pulled out the suitcase and loaded it up.  (There was even the time I actually was glad for a trip to Knoxville for my sister’s graduation because I was fed up with him…)

After we had a few children (probably right where you are right now).  We still fought some pretty intense battles.  I am stubborn.  I am extremely stubborn.  I wear my heart on my sleeves.  I am passionate and I am unwavering, and I like things done the way I want them.

My husband, on the other hand, is extremely laid back, but also, EXTREMELY set in his ways.  The phrase, ‘can’t teach an old dog new tricks’  Yea, that was specifically for him.  He knows it.  He knows he does/doesn’t like things and when we clash- we clash like thunder and lightning.  Sometimes to the point of scaring our children into asking, ‘are they going to get divorced?’

So, how did we learn to fight good?  Well, it’s an ongoing battle.  Literally.  I know there is no way to completely avoid fights, and frankly, it’s important that we do fight some in front of the kids.  Contrary to popular psychology, I believe that my children see he and I disagreeing on things and perhaps getting a tad heated, as a healthy sign for them in their own relationships. Conflict is a necessary part of life.  Not ever seeing conflict, not ever seeing their parents fight,could cause them to feel horrible if they ever do have conflict.  Especially with their spouse.  But it’s been 19 years in the making.  Do we have the knockdown, drag out, screaming, yelling, slamming doors, driving off fights?  Well, I do still slam doors.  My husband does still yell, but he will tell you he’s just loud.  I do get so mad sometimes I want to knock his block off.  He’s so friggen stubborn‼!  And don’t you know, he’ll say the SAME THING ABOUT ME‼!

But the older I get, the more I realize that life is so incredibly short. 

Jane- I mean, incredibly short. 

Sometimes I think about people we know who have lost their spouses too soon.  With young children, or unborn babies on the way.   

Sometimes I think about my Grandma who died a few years ago who literally took care of my grandfather, her alcoholic, at times horribly drunk, husband, and gave all appearances of it not wearing her down.

Sometimes I think about all our babies in Heaven and it really sinks in how important it is to work on compromise.  Seriously. 

I bite my tongue a lot.  I bite it so much my dentist says I have a bump on my tongue from biting it‼  Literally‼ 

So to say we’ve gotten good at it, well, that’s relative.  But we do fall more in love with each other every single year. 

The scripture that everyone hates so much that’s so misunderstood by a lot of people about wives being submissive to their husbands?  Ironically enough, I try to think about that verse, for numerous reasons.  My husband is a good man.  You know that.  If he was abusive, it would be different.  But he’s a Godly man who wants to live right and raise his family right.  But just like me, he has his flaws, and sometimes we clash with our flaws.  But that verse, rightly so, reminds me, just like it reminds him, that we are to be submissive to not only one another, but to do it the way Christ does to His Church.  With total and utter abandonment. 

Trust that God will pull you through this difficult time when it arises.  And it will arise.  Sometimes it will happen over the dumbest things, when you’re tired, when you’re visiting family, when you thought you did something really good and the spouse thought just the opposite….sometimes, I'm convinced, the evil one just starts a spark for no reason other than to continue the divide of families.

Make sure, though, most importantly, that you kiss and make up.  Don’t ever let a fight linger or go unsettled.  I always apologize.  Sometimes my stupid, stupid, STUPID, stubborn, redheaded, self likes to say in my head, ‘I’m not apologizing THIS time…” But I do.  We both do.  We apologize to each other.  It’s important.  I’m not supposed to go to bed angry- but I still do sometimes.  I’m trying to work on that one, too.  Don’t go to bed angry. Get the wall quote from Hobby Lobby that says to kiss me goodnight and put it above your bed.  Or in your room somewhere… J

AND- surround yourselves with ducks.  Hang out with us, seriously, or find some other crazy ducks.  There is NOTHING, and I promise, NOTHING that can make a marriage grow in strength than by hanging with other strong marriages.  I promise. 

And sorry for the novel, but you’ve inspired me to write a blog.  I’ll change your name- but it’s something important.

Love you friend‼

~crazycatholicmomma

Monday morning, white cabinets, and one feisty redhead....

First and foremost- if you're a builder- and why not- builders could be reading my blog.  Stranger things have happened.

If you're a builder, and you're looking at designs for a kitchen for a house that you'll probably build for a modest family of, let's be generous, and say, four kids and two parents (there's a rare gem), you might want to consider a few things.  First of all, when you decide on what works and doesn't work in a house, you may want to consider the colors of items.  Next, people like things to last.  Longer than expected....

But, let's say you're sitting there designing your next build for this family.   Suddenly you get this brilliant idea.

White cabinets.

'Oooooh,' you think.

'What a great idea,' you say.  Out loud.  Presumably, your partner is equally impressed with this new 'gem' of an idea and you immediately set to work.

I'm here to tell you, RUN MY FRIEND the builder.

Run like your pants are ON FIRE.

Because there could be NO.WORSE.IDEA then white cabinets in a house that will potentially house people UNDER the age of, well, in reality, under.....well, let's be real here, dead.

I will tell you why.

There isn't a human in my house, age range starting from 46 and dropping all the way down to 9 months, who hasn't gotten something naasssty on these here white cabinets.

And what makes it even worse?

They are cheaply made white cabinets.

Not that I would know what "expensive" white cabinets would look like, but I can assure anyone, builder, designer, architect, Lego builder, statistician, plumber, doctor, etc, you get my drift, that white cabinets?  They are a nasty tragic mess waiting to happen.

Take mine for instance.

Fortunately, I have multiple subjects to test out my theories on just about anything you need a theory tested out on....

My house is soon to be six years old.

Young, some would say.

Brand, spanking new, others would say.

And lo, I would be inclined to agree.

But these here white cabinets that the genius who built this house thought would look sooooo good and are featured in the likes of Ethan Allen magazines, with  matching black appliances and a precious granite counter top to boot?

These cabinets were picked up on the side of the road, OR they were on sale at the "don't ever put in anyone's house who actually would BUY the house" store.

Oh, the first few years were a honeymoon for sure.  But then slowly and surely, the test of time came crashing down like a child in a glass store riding a tricycle blindfolded.

Kind of like the roofing company that put shingles designed for a child's toy house on my roof, the people in charge of cabinets, clearly struck a deal, and that deal expired about a year ago.

My cabinets are peeling.

No, literally, PEELING....  Oh, I'll take a picture of it.  But keep in mind, I've put CLEAR DUCT TAPE ON IT SO IT WON'T PEEL COMPLETELY OFF......

The one I haven't taped because I RAN OUT of tape...

Ignore the permanent stains of nasty....but here's tape!

More  tape....and permanent stains...

The screws are also stripping, so this is my super hero hubs "quick fix"

So they're peeling.

My kids are all like, "Hey why don't we just peel all the cabinets and paint them white again?"

I smacked them.  Don't worry.  I'll never, ever, purposely put white cabinets in my house ever again.

So my house is six years old, and yes, while I have double, maybe even triple the number of humans living in the space, the cabinets have not lived out what I would even think would be half their lifespan.

Not only are they peeling, but they show every.single.piece. of dirt, smudge, fingerprint, food dropped, coffee spill, unidentifiable science experiments... name it, I bet I can find it on my cabinets.....

Now, I know what you're thinking.

'Seriously, crazycatholicmomma? You gonna go there?'

I know.  I truly do.  In a world, where people are in an uproar about a red cup, (I really missed the boat on that one- someone who hates a store for the color of cups might be crazier than me) where college kids (let me say that again) college kids, are staging ridiculous stances to have presidents of their colleges fired because there aren't enough of a certain race/color/creed working, (forget the fact that we all apply for jobs and are hired for our abilities, talents, degrees, or merits), where terrorists are running rampant and killing innocent lives almost daily (the news subtly avoided the Lebanon bombings before the Paris attacks....)

Where people in our own country go to bed hungry and people in third world countries go to bed hungry because their governments are railroading aid.

Where my children, especially my daughters, will have to face the reality that one day, as they change for gym in the girls locker room, a boy, who claims to identity with girls and not boys, will be allowed to change in the locker room with her.

You can call me a hater all you want for that one- but there are creepy people in this world, and don't you think for one little bitty second that some kid isn't gonna take advantage of that and for the record, a penis is a penis and a vagina is a vagina.  When they are young, under the age of 18, those two body parts need to be separated.  Don't go all, but honey, the sex you were born as is obsolete, now a days, we go with what we identify with....   I don't care if you identity with one or the other but I'll be dang blammed sure, you will not be allowed to change with my daughters if you have a penis.

Sorry.  That last one fires me up more than I realized.... it is something to think about considering I do have six girls...

Wow.  That was a big squirrel...

HA!

So I get it.  My white cabinets are certainly first world problems.

I am blessed that I have a beautiful house with amazing little humans living in it with me, but if I don't find some humor soon- I'll let all that other muck???  Take me down.

And I can't have that.

So as politically incorrect as I am, and I've always said I am a crazycatholicmomma, I need to laugh to have balance.

So if making fun of some cheep, yucky cabinets, makes me smile, then I feel I've done  my part to help humanity.   Because the last thing you people need is a cranky, depressed, redhead on your hands....

So enjoy this Monday and next time you wipe your cabinets down, smile and think of your crazycatholicmomma friend who just wiped the hardest, greenest, nastiest booger off the cabinet by her fridge...

The Gift that is Today.

There’s a strange phenomenon going on in Western New York this week.  The temperatures have been increasingly unseasonable and today, there was an abundance of sunshine and the temperature was an amazing 74 degrees.   

First of all, it’s November 4th.  Now that might not mean anything to most people, but I have now lived here for almost 6 years and I can assure anyone, that at LEAST in the last six years, there has not been a November where it was 74 degrees.  Today?   We washed the cars.  My #6 daughter had her bathing suit on.  Albeit, she had her Olaf panties over the bathing suit (we’re still working out the potty training logistics- let’s just suffice it to say it made for a great photo op that just might win me millions one day…)  The sky was an absolute crystal clear blue that was so amazingly beautiful it almost hurt my eyes to look at it….

Look at that blue!

Millions, people, millions...

Hey, it’s been a long time since it was this warm AND this sunny!  

But it was amazing.  Everyday this week has been increasingly more beautiful and more warm.  

There’s something about warm sunshine, you know?  Sitting there, eyes closed, sun hitting me, filling me with an almost tingling sensation.  The sun is amazing.  Scary, but amazing.  Dangerous, but amazing.  Don’t worry, I’m going somewhere with this, stay with me.  As I sat there soaking up the sun, watching my nine month old climbing all over the rock garden, banging rocks together, sucking on rocks, eating grass and giggling when I told her to stop, I couldn’t help but think of God.  

God is amazing.  Scary, in that it’s truly a leap of faith to believe in something you can’t entirely see.  Dangerous, because proclaiming your faith boldly can put you in a place many have died as martyrs proclaiming.

As both my daughters played around outside, and I dutifully watched and pointed out all the spots my husband had missed while waxing the van, I felt energized by the sun.  

Much like how I feel when I receive the Eucharist.  Or how I feel when I make a really good confession and come out of the confessional feeling as though the weight of the world was lifted off  my shoulders.  Or how I feel after reading a really great book about my faith.   Or getting together with some amazingly Godly women who help lift me up and make me want to be a better person.  

As I sit here tonight, the ONLY one in my house awake, I  can finally stop, breath, and examine how the day went.  I can finally put into words how I felt all day long.  The way I could see God so clearly in today.  

The sun today was so brilliantly amazing.  I really can’t put into words how beautiful it was today (more because I’m pretty sure the toothpicks holding my eyelids up are about to snap in half).  But as I sit here, and recall what we did, and watching the two little ones play, I can’t help but think about how utterly brilliant God is as well.  The author, designer, painter, sculptor, artist, of this amazing universe gave this day to me!  Little ole me, a silly southern belle, plucked up from her the comfort of her southern roots, to this northern snowland where flip flops after September is almost unheard of.  Where winter coats, snow boots, shovels, snow blowers, are pulled out in early to mid October.  Taking the screens off windows, the swings off swings, the material off of the trampoline, the back porch shade down, have been long before today.    

But today?  On November 4th?  Where almost a year ago to the day my neighborhood was under nearly seven feet of snow?  (the snowvember storm?)  Today, it was 74 degrees.  Sun was shining, yard was mowed.  Cars were washed.  Babies giggled in the sun and played in the water.  And I soaked every single second in.  

My daily journal told me to be “ridiculously grateful for everything today.”  I read that when I first woke up.  

It’s like God was whispering in my ear, ‘hey crazycatholicmomma?  It’s gonna be an amazing day today….  Don’t miss out on one minute of it.’

Thank you, God.  Thank you for this gift that was today.  May I strive to see this gift in every single day I am given.  

The Grass IS always greener where we water, but don't forget to water it....

So last night I couldn't fall asleep.  

I could blame it on the 10 pounds of cookie cake my husband and I scarfed down like scavengers (it was left over from our anniversary on Monday) because I've cut down on my sugar intake (I only use a tablespoon of my awesome creamer) and no other sugar on most days, so perhaps when I consume 500% more than my daily allowance it hypes me up...  

But I think it was something more.  

I was preoccupied with thoughts.  

And they weren't the best thoughts.  

I was rereading a book I bought many years ago, called, Musings from a Catholic Mom.  At least, that's what I think the name is, it's actually in my bathroom upstairs and the tiniest little night terrorist is still asleep in my room, so I don't DARE go back up there until she wakes up.  At a normal hour. 

Anyway- squirrel warning, I've resorted back to earlier post baby birth sleep disorder (YES that's a real condition,  PBBSD). I've been getting less and less sleep because of a multitude of reasons I've reasoned myself to believe. 

1.  The baby is teething.  (she's 9 months old and just got her first tooth, second one is on the way)

2. The baby is cold.  (my husband keeps the house set on 62.  I dress her as warmly as possible, but some nights even I'M freezing.)

3. The baby is having bad dreams.  Can they even dream at 9 months?

4.  She knows I love sleep.  

5. She has decided that waking every hour or so and just letting out a wail for about a minute or two (long enough to really wake me and the hubster up) is the new her...

So there it is.  I'm getting little sleep at night and last night after reading a few pages of that book, I laid in bed thinking about what I read.  

Danielle Bean wrote the book when she had six little ones (I believe she has 8 children now, the book is 10 years old).  She was writing this particular chapter about all the places she had to go one day and all the stares and comments she got.  It resonated with me.  Eerily, the comments, stares, and feelings she had were almost identical to what I've received out in public.  

So I laid there in bed thinking about those things when the strangest thought popped into my head. 

"How were you a failure today?"

Excuse me?  What?  (Don't worry, I do this a lot- converse with myself in my head- it's way better than doing it out loud and causing stares....)

How did you fail your children today?

Wow.  Those words really stung and I had to sit there and ponder who was putting this thought into my head- was it my crazy brain or something darker?

But just as quickly as the question was put in my head, the answers to it started flooding my brain.  How did I fail my children today? 

Oh, let me count the ways, I almost seemed to mock myself.

Didn't get much sleep the night before so I was grouchy.  Snapped at the child who dumped cheerios all over the floor.  Barked at the child who for the 88th time, asked me to do something for them that I forgot to do (of course, good reason to snap at someone else, right?).  Yelled for them to be quiet because once again, the tiny terrorist was getting her best sleep at 7 AM.  

Through out the day?  I stared at my little black box when I should have been interacting with the two year old.  I just watched the tiniest one crawl around instead of talking and playing with her.  I avoided two phone calls from people I really need to talk to, just because I was too mentally exhausted to keep up the front that I'm doing Ga-Ga-Ga-G-R-E-A-T!!!  (said in Tony the Tiger voice...)

Through out the day I grouched and complained about the messes all over my house left by my children.  Shoes I've asked them put up a million times.  Toys I've asked to be brought down to the basement a billion times, clean clothes still sitting at the table.  Washing clothing that I SWEAR I just washed the day before, they did NOT wear this- they literally just STUCK IT BACK IN THE DIRTY CLOTHES BASKET!!!!!!

When they got home (all but one got home on this particular afternoon, which is a rarity these days) I continued the grouchiness of complaints.  Do this, do that, why did you not do this?  Why did you NOT do that?  What ARE you doing?  Where ARE you going?  

Dinner was a disaster, bathtime a nightmare.  Grouchy momma was in full swing and by the time they all went to bed, it was time for me to head there as well.  

So total, I spent ABOUT 5 minutes alone with out any children needing my constant attention (or lack there of).  I was spent.  Exhausted from zero  sleep, exhausted from complaining (hey- it's a tough job) so when this question was put out there in the vastness of my tired brain?   I immediately broke down.... I failed my children terribly!  How many times did I tell them I loved them?   How many times did I tell them I was proud of them?  How many times did I ask them about their day and sit and listen to them talk to me about school? 

Not as much as I complained.  Grouched.  Barked.  Yelled.

So there I was, when I really needed to be asleep, so that the small blocks of sleep that I actually can get won't be lost forever and I turned on my side facing my super hero husband and there the question was posed again.  

How have I failed my husband today?

Ouch.

I made his salad for his lunch today....  

But that's where it stopped.  I was just as grouchy to him because he had to take the giant school bus (ok, it's just a 15 passenger van, but it seems like a school bus) to get the brakes changed and that left me with taking kids to swim, picking kids up from field hockey, and getting kids to bed....all.by.myself.

Let me say that with a bit more whine....

All.by.my.pathetic.pitiful.exhausted.grouchy.self.

There.  Much better.

So laying there, with that question posed in my brain, I suddenly felt extremely guilty for all I had NOT done and all that I HAD done that wasn't so nice to my kids and husband.  

'Wow, God.  You must be really disappointed in me today....'  I  meekly thought to myself.  Here I am, blessed beyond what I deserve, and yet, I can't see just what I preach everyday.  That the grass is greener right where I water it.

But that reminded me of that book I was reading before bed.  It seemed to me that Danielle Bean was being bombarded with the questions, the pitiful glances, the harsh stares and was on overload (again, I haven't finished rereading that chapter so I'm just adding my own opinion to this....)

I'm being bombarded with things right now.   Perhaps I haven't been watering what needs to be watered.... 

We've spent the last two months or so, with FOUR kids in consistent activities almost every single day and a fifth kid in a semi consistent activity.  So 8-10 weeks of constant business starting at about 3 o'clock every afternoon and going sometimes until very late in the evening.  I've had very little family time, very little husband time, and the worst?  Very little me time.  

I need me time.  I know that sounds extremely selfish of me to say, but I am a better wife, mom, friend, sister, daughter, etc, when I get good amounts of me time.  Quiet time alone in prayer, a quiet lunch with just me eating and breathing.  (I find I don't do much breathing when I'm on autopilot and in crazy mode...)  Outings with my friends.  Anything where I can decompress and unwind and just relax, and just be me.  Crazycatholicmomma.    

I know that not many people agree with me.  I remember once, getting into a "discussion" with someone on social media about how important it was for me to have that "me" time and the person told me God gave me my family and I should be with them, not selfishly thinking I "needed" me time.  It hurt a little, but only because this person assumed they knew me and they didn't.  Not everyone needs alone time, or me time or get away for a little time, time... hahaha.  That read funny....

I know myself well enough to know that there are times when I have literally tapped every ounce of patience out of my body.  Remember my 'drink from the cup' blog last week?  Well, just like the many things that come our way that we must drink, we must also recognize when we need to be recharged. 

 

God didn't come down last night and tell me what an awful mom or wife I've been.  He didn't have to.  He knows it hurts me to be that way.  He also knows I can do better.  He knows I'm trying and that's so important for me to remember.  Not that I need to fall back on that as an excuse-'well, I AM trying,' no, I need to remember that I need to do better.  Accept those days when I'll fail, big time, but wake up the next day and try harder.  

Now today?  Well, I started out rather grouchy, the tiniest one had another really bad sleeping night.  I woke up exhausted, and came down and looked rather hairy- literally, but I tried to remind myself that I love these little people with my entire being.  I love that big furry guy who is my super hero husband more than life itself.  These people are so important to me and I need to not only remind myself, but remind them every single day. 

 

Ha.  yes....

So, yes, it's raining.  It's yucky outside.  I've had the least amount of sleep I've had since we started this rodeo of seven crazy kids, but I'm going to try.  I'll muddle through my PBBSD syndrome (ok, it might not be a real disorder....). I'm going to try to be positive today. I'm going to try and not lose my temper when they do something that bothers me. I'm going to try to correct without snapping.... That's a tough one for me.  I'm going to try to rest today without devices around me.... the resting part might be tough, these two monkeys still at home are on completely opposite schedules....but I might let the ole boob tube entertain the two year old during the 9 month old's nap....  Hey, Elmo is a learning show....

But it will all be good.  Cause it's another day I've been given an opportunity to be a part of....And I'm going to water it and appreciate how blessed I am! 

Can I drink from the cup?

This is going to be one gigantic stretch and believe me- I can't really see how on earth I'm going to connect what I'm going to talk about, but start praying right now, as I am, and maybe we'll both see God's hand in this as I think I kind of do....

Can I drink from the cup.  That was the theme of the gospel reading this past Sunday.  Mark 10:35-45.  I'll try to copy and paste the passage if my feeble, exhausted, brain can pull it together before I lose my train of thought.

James and John were wanting to sit at Jesus' right and left.  He basically asked them if they were prepared to drink from his cup.  Jesus' path was not an easy one and his followers would be on that same path if they chose to drink from his cup.  Persecutions, martyrdom, and the like would take most of his disciples and James and John seemed to more concerned with having a high and mighty place to sit by Jesus instead of the focus at hand.  Why Jesus was there....

Why was Jesus there?  To save us of course.

To save us from damnation.

To save us from our sin!

That's not to say people chose to follow him.  Or follow his teachings.  As we can see, people even in biblical times found his teachings to be too difficult and walked away.

Today was a really rough day for me.

Actually, it's been a rough few months.

Ok, it's been a rough almost 9 months.

Who am I kidding.....I'm sorry, it's been a rough 18 months.....

If we look back a year in a half ago, we started on a journey that was completely unexpected.  I know, there are people out there who want to believe with all their hearts that they know who we are, know what we're like, have already determined we are freaks and crazy people for being open to life.  Comparing us to the Duggars (doesn't that get old for people?  Cause it really gets old hearing it....I'm no where near going to reach their numbers....or prayerfully, their public life...)

We've heard all the comments, time and time again.  Are you done?  Will you have anymore?  I can't handle the (fill in ANY  number here, we've heard them all) I have!!!  Can't imagine how you handle all yours....

So when lucky  number 7 surprised us, I was taken aback  but God was working on my heart the entire time.  You can check out my past blogs and read the journey we took to the birth of our awesome little Luci and my very near death experience I had to see how amazing that journey was.

Is.

Cause it's always going.

The cup is constantly being poured out and I'm forced to either drink from it, or let it spill all over me and make a mess on myself with it.  (and you KNOW I'm not a messy person....)

By forced, I don't mean God is forcing me, but He is placing these things in my life to choose one way or the other....  I can sit here, in my self pity and continue to feel like the worst mother on the planet and wait for my "worst mother of the year" award, or I can take the many trials and tribulations and learn from them and get up, ever so slowly, and probably looking more like I need one of those little walkers with the tennis balls on  them, and keep plugging away in this world.

The trials seem to be more apparent to me these days and I am not sure why.   From the personal crosses I've been trying to bear, to the crosses I now see my children having to bear as they get older and try to live a good and holy life.

There have been so many moments of grace with those crosses and that's what I've been trying to focus on.  I started this blog about five times and each one was titled, "Focus on the Positive."  Something kept stopping me from finishing each one (and mostly it was two little somethings age 2 1/2 years,  and 8 months).

Today though, I had a really, really bad day.

Matter of fact, it almost made me do some completely irrational and stupid things.

. 

Like chase down the idiot who decided he wasn't waiting on me to pass two garbage trucks.  TWO.  On a busy road.  He took it upon himself to start passing me just as I was pulling out to pass them after I made sure I wouldn't get hit head on (you see, there's something about being in a head on collision as a teenager that makes me a TAD HESITANT to just drive in the wrong lane... I know, crazy....).  I nearly ran into him as he sped by me.  Signalling of course, because that makes what he did totally ok.  I'm getting sarcastic-time to take a  deep breath and not rehash my anger again.)

I actually yelled and scared my 2 1/2 year old and then I got behind the guy and took a picture of his license plate.  You know, cause I was going to create a "shame NY drivers" website (which has probably already been created) but I was angry and scared and shaking and I wanted JUSTICE.  I wanted that person to know what they did was not only stupid, but incredibly dangerous and put the lives of two of my little peanuts in danger.  I was furious.  I wanted revenge.  AN EYE FOR EYE!

Completely irrational I know...

But I was so mad and ready to move away.  Right there!!

New York and all it's terrible drivers could stick it!  I was done.  I called my husband, a  voice of reason, and even  he was mad for me.  It's not easy to see so many people take such unnecessary risks and put other  people in danger and he has probably had more than enough as well....

He asked where I wanted to live.  I said somewhere far, far away.  A nice remote, isolated area where I will feel safe.... A cave.  A cabin in the deep, deep, deep woods.

Anywhere but where we live.

Where are you going with this, Crazycatholic momma?

Hold on.  I said it would be a stretch.

So after we decided we were moving to a deserted island, I calmed down and drove to my final destination on my errands.  Hobby Lobby.

Something about that store just fills me with an amazing sense of peace.  It's so lovely and full of  crafts and holiday items and fun things I would love to buy, and right now?  There are a billion items for Christmas.  Trees, ornaments, decorations, wrapping paper, bows, lights, wreaths, you name it.  They have it.

As I took the stroller down each aisle and heard my 2 1/2  year old oooooh and aaaaaahh outloud, I did the same thing inside.  (ok, and outside, too.  We both were ooooohing and aaaaaahhing together!)

I was taking deep breaths and feeling more and more at peace and human again.  I even took a picture and sent it to my husband and told him, "I'm in my happy place..."

My  Happy Place

As the peace came over me, my rational self came back and my irrational self slowly diminished.  It's not a side of myself that I'm particularly proud of.   It's rather embarrassing at times.  The voice of reason gets drowned out as crazymomma goes into psycho mode....

But as the peace came back, so did the clarity of events of the past year in a half.  We can say we've had some pretty tough things happen and surprises we didn't expect, or see coming.   Some health issues that were a bit of shock, and an expense that we didn't plan for.  A stint with some depression that probably ran one or two people out of my life.  Some issues with our children that have been really tough to deal with, but nothing that we couldn't handle with God's grace.  

Because you see, with every single set back, I began to notice something.  There was a grace moment.  

I always tell my kids that God sends these moments everyday, all day long if we just opened our eyes to them.  

Nowadays, we're so bombarded with our little hand held devices, computers, TV's, busy schedules, and lack of quiet time, we don't always see those  grace moments.

The moments that God shows us that yes we can drink from the cup.  

I have never been so aware of how difficult it is to be a person of faith in this world as I am today.  I don't  just mean a 'Sunday go to church' faith person, I mean someone who clearly tries, (and fails constantly) to live their faith in this world. 'People will hate you.  Know that they hated me first.'  

That's from John 15:18-27.  A fantastic gospel.  'If you belonged to the world, the world would love it's own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you.  Remember the word I  spoke to you, 'no slave is greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you....'  

It goes on and is really just so comforting.  Jesus' words are like that.  Comforting.  

He later speaks in chapter 16, verse 33, 'I have told you this so that you  might have peace in me.  In the world you will have trouble, but take courage, I have conquered the world.'

And thank you, Jesus, for doing just that.  I take comfort in that.  

When drivers drive like maniacs.  People compare us to the Duggars.  Friends grow distant and move away.  Children struggle in their own faith lives.  People disappoint us.  Jesus has been here.  Done that, and is waiting for us  to be with him in Heaven.

When we drink from the cup, we can stand strong and have courage.  

It won't be an easy path.  It won't be a completely happy path.  There will be tough times.  There will be joyful times.  There will be difficult times and almost unbearable times.  We  will want to quit the race, but we can't.  We must persevere and keep going.  

It will be God's path.  And if we keep our eyes open and on Him, we will see those beautiful graces he places ever so subtly in our lives.  

For example, I just got on my phone to look up the exact scripture for the John 15- all I typed in google was,  'scripture verse......'

 And google finished it for me with, '.......if the world hates you.'

God moment for today?