Baby #3

We started talking about having another baby over the summer as "Baby Walt" approached 14 months, and big sister, Janie, was about two-and-a-half.  Soon after, we received the blessed news that we were pregnant with Baby #3 and that he or she would make an appearance around May 16th.  Hooray! 

"Morning" sickness has been more of an all-day sickness for me that gets progressively worse into the night, and it lasted until 22 weeks with my first two pregnancies.  So, when I hit the 5-week mark with this pregnancy and the nausea started, I took this as a great indicator that everything was going well.  Great job, hormones!  Keep doing your thing! 

We shared the news early with our family and started telling friends shortly thereafter.  Our philosophy with sharing the news early is that we're always going to want the prayers and support of family and friends.  If, heaven forbid, something happens to the baby, we want our friends and family to already know about the baby so that they can grieve with us.  Apparently my tummy muscles decided there was no hiding this pregnancy, so I seemed to start showing around 6 weeks.  Nonetheless, we decided to wait to make it "Facebook official" for awhile.

At the 8-week appointment, things went great.  I measured right on target, and my hormone levels looked good.  Unfortunately, the ultrasound tech had to go home sick with strep throat, so we were disappointed not to get a sneak peek at the baby.  Nonetheless, it was a great appointment, and we scheduled my next visit with an ultrasound for November 8th when Philip would be post-call and able to come with me to see Baby for the first time together.  (We like to keep each baby's sex a surprise until delivery, and we don't like calling the baby "it" or picking a gender by saying "he" or "she," so we always call the baby "Baby.")

As I approached week 11, my energy started to return, and I noticed that I wasn't watching the clock waiting to be able to take my next dose of Zofran or other anti-nausea medicine.  I thought, "Wow!  This is awesome!  Either I'm getting way better at managing the nausea the third time around, or this baby is taking it easy on me."

Having already announced our pregnancy to our family and several friends, we decided to go ahead and come up with a fun way to announce it on Facebook.  I put iron-on letters on the kids' shirts that said "Team Pink" and "Team Blue," and I wore a black shirt with a question mark.  

Last Sunday, October 28th, we posted this picture of me and the kids:

    
We included the caption, "Team Pink or Team Blue? Baby Boucher #3 will make his or her appearance in May! We can't wait to meet you, Baby!" 

Almost immediately, the outpouring of support came in.  Friends sent along their congratulations, prayers, and well wishes.  It's silly, but making it "Facebook official" by posting that picture felt great, and it helped the reality of a new baby joining our family to sink in a little more.

Being a planner, I've been thinking about how we're going to play musical rooms when Baby arrives.  Walt will move out of the nursery and share a room with Janie.  I'll finally learn how to sew and make them coordinating bedding.  Baby will move into the already gender neutral nursery.  Maybe we'll splurge and buy Baby some new décor.  

Baby became part of everyday conversation and our bedtime ritual.  Janie regularly kissed my belly, suggested I "take some medicine to feel better" throughout the day, and practiced swaddling her Baby Stella doll.  She'd stick her tummy out, pull up her shirt, and say, "Look!  Baby is getting bigger!"  

At bedtime, we'd sit on Janie's floor in the dark and turn on Walt's ladybug constellation nightlight.

The kids look up at the stars while we do our "Bedtime Sweet Talk" and prayers.  We say the Guardian Angel prayer and then we say, "God bless Daddy, God bless Mommy, God bless Janie, God bless Walt, God bless Monty, and God bless all of our friends and family.  Amen."  When we found out we were pregnant, we added "God bless the new baby" to the prayer.

These daily rituals and reminders added to our growing excitement to meet Baby.

Thursday night, as I was getting into bed, I felt some mild cramping and tried not to work myself into a panic when I saw that I was spotting.  Philip was working an overnight shift at the hospital, so I called him to check in.  Fortunately, he was able to answer, and I told him about the cramping and spotting.  He suggested that I try my best not to worry, to call him if the cramping got worse or anything changed, and that we would call the doctor in the morning to see if I needed to come in.

The cramping and light bleeding continued the next day, so I called my doctor's office and spoke with the nurse.  I described my symptoms, and she told me she would speak with my doctor to see if I needed to come in.  She called back to say that my doctor thought the bleeding I described sounded like the result of straining from constipation rather than something more serious, but that I should call back and come in if the bleeding or cramping intensified.

Within that hour, Philip came home from his 28-hour shift, and I relayed the doctor's message.  He gave me a big hug, said that everything was probably okay, but that we should go to the doctor if I was worried.  

I hopped in the shower and the cramps seemed to get a little worse.  As I shaved my legs, I let myself cry a little and said a prayer.  "God, if it is Your will to take this baby, I will accept that.  I know it's going to hurt a lot, but I know that if it's part of Your will that You are allowing it so that some greater good will come of this."

Meanwhile, I obsessed over the continuing cramps and blood and, after talking to my sister, decided to call my doctor's office again.  "I know it all sounds like everything is probably okay, but since it's a Friday, and I don't want to be worrying over the weekend and until my next appointment on Thursday, can I please come in to check on things?"

Waiting until the afternoon appointment seemed like an eternity.  I said a lot of prayers to the Blessed Mother and managed to take a nap with Philip and the kids.  I drifted off to sleep visualizing Christ holding Baby in one arm, and me in the other, praying, "Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in You" over and over again.  

After our nap, we headed to the doctor's office.  It was too short of notice to arrange for a sitter, and I didn't want to go by myself in the event that we received bad news, so we decided to go as a family.  Uncharacteristically, we arrived 15 minutes early, and we probably waited for half an hour before getting called back.  

My sweet OB walked into the exam room and asked the kids about Halloween and Philip about his current residency rotation before getting down to business.  We discussed my cramping and bleeding as he performed a pelvic exam.  

"Your uterus is measuring a little big.  Why don't we take a listen?"  

He pulled out the fetal doppler to find a heartbeat.  This would be the first time we would hear the baby's heartbeat.  He squeezed the "goop" onto my belly, and I waited to hear the quick galloping sound that always made me giggle and cry with joy.  Walt sat in the umbrella stroller, looking around, wondering where the sound was coming from.  Janie sat on Philip's lap, and she said, "We gonna hear the baby?"  Despite moving the doppler up and down, left to right, we never heard the galloping sound.  

My OB wiped off my belly, helped me to sit up, and said, "OK, I'll go and get ________ (the ultrasound tech), and let's take a peek to see what's going on.  I'll be right back." 

I got dressed and we gathered up our things to go into the ultrasound room.  As I laid down and got some more goop on my belly, the ultrasound tech asked me a few questions. 

"So, you're having some cramping and bleeding, huh?"
"Yes.  It feels like mild menstrual cramps, and I see the light spotting when I wipe." 
"This is your third pregnancy?"
"Yes."
"Both carried to term?  No complications?"
"Yes, no complications with either."
"OK.  Let's see what's going on in there."

As she started moving the probe around my belly, I watched our baby appear on the monitor, and I knew.  I was twelve weeks and a day along in my pregnancy, so Baby should have looked nearly fully formed but still very tiny.  The baby that appeared on the monitor was very small, and Baby had very tiny limbs that only poked out a little.  This sounds like a cold and crude comparison, but Baby kind of looked like a little gummy bear.

I watched as the ultrasound tech took some measurements.  I couldn't see a fluttering where Baby's heart should have been.  Philip and the kids had been sitting in chairs along a wall behind the exam table.  I felt Philip's hand on my shoulder as the ultrasound tech said, "The baby is measuring about 7 weeks, and there's no heartbeat.  I'm sorry."  

I heard the words, but my mind needed to take it in before I let my emotions catch up.  

I heard my sweet Janie say in her little voice, "There's no heart?"  

The ultrasound tech told her, "Oh, I'm sorry, honey."  Then she told us, "Unfortunately, this happens sometimes in the first trimester, and there's nothing you did wrong."

Probably thirty seconds went by before my emotions caught up with me, and I burst into tears.  It was the big, terrible, out of control, sobbing.  The ultrasound tech wiped the goop on my belly, said, "I'll give you guys some time," and left the room.

Little Janie said, "What's wrong, Mommy?" and Philip told her, "Baby had to go to heaven."  I sat up and he gave me a big hug.  Janie insisted on sitting next to me on the exam table.  Sweet little Walt kept smiling at me from the umbrella stroller.  Through bleary eyes in the dark room I got dressed, and my OB came in after a few minutes.

He shook our hands and said, "I'm so sorry."  He reviewed the ultrasound images and repeated what the ultrasound tech said.  "The baby is measuring 7 weeks even though you are twelve weeks and a day today, and there is no heartbeat.  You see how the sac is kind of oval-shaped?  That indicates that the uterus is starting the process of evacuating the baby."  

The tears stopped flowing long enough for me to hear and ask about the ugly, cold, medical side of losing a baby.  We talked about the logistics of what would happen as I miscarry at home--all of the ugly realities that I had never considered until facing miscarrying my own baby.  My OB said it could happen that day, the next day, or even in a few weeks.  If I wanted, I could take some medicine to expedite the process.  We talked about how to collect the tissue and bring it in for testing.  We talked about the pain, potential complications, what's normal and what's not, and the possibility of a D&C.  
 
At the end of our conversation, my OB said, "Please call us if you need anything or if you'd like that medicine to move things along.  This is a real loss, so take all the time you need to grieve your baby.  I am so sorry.  I'll go and get _______ (his nurse) to bring you that container."

After he left, I racked my brain, thinking of all of the things I didn't want to forget about this moment or things to ask about or for before we left.  I said to Philip, "Can you please ask them for the ultrasound pictures?  I want to have them."  He said, "Of course," and went to find the ultrasound tech.  I started to pack up our things when my OB's sweet nurse came in and gave me a big hug.  

"I'm so glad we came in today," I said.  
"Me too," she said, still hugging me.

She put the sterile container into my diaper bag and said that she was so sorry for our loss.  

Philip came back with the ultrasound picture.  As I zipped Walt into his jacket, Janie accidentally knocked some magazines off of a table.  Instantly, the ultrasound tech and my OB's nurse said, "Don't worry about it!  Go ahead!" as I bent over to pick them up.  We thanked everyone, said goodbye, and walked out of the ultrasound room.  

I was instructed to keep a full bladder for the ultrasound, so I told Philip I needed to stop at the restroom on our way out.  He said he would wait for me with the kids in the waiting room.  After I closed the door behind me, I cried for a minute and collected myself before walking out to the waiting room.  

I walked past my OB's nurse who was on the phone with another patient, and I walked past the ultrasound tech who was talking to the office receptionist.  She didn't see me walking by.  I heard her say, "I performed an ultrasound on Catherine _________, Dr. __________'s patient, and the baby is deceased, so please cancel her appointment on November 8th."  That was that.  No need to come back next week.  My baby was deceased.  

I went through the waiting room door to find my sweet children and teary husband waiting for me.  The trip down the elevator, through the building lobby, and out to the car is pretty hazy.  I remember buckling Janie into her car seat and her asking me, "What's wrong, Mama?  You sad?"  I told her, "Yes, Mommy and Daddy are sad because we miss Baby.  But Baby is a saint in heaven, so that makes us very happy."  

Since it was November 2, All Souls Day, Janie had gotten a lesson on All Saints Day and who saints are the day before.  She said, "Baby's in heaven?  I want to be a saint."  

As Philip pulled the minivan out of the parking lot, I said, "I'm so glad you came because I don't think I could have driven myself home," and I burst back into those big, terrible, out of control tears.  Philip cried and said, "I know.  I'm glad, too."        

I cried off and on during the ride home.  We talked about how glad we were that we didn't wait to go in.  We talked about it being a blessing that we knew that Baby had died before I miscarried at home.  We talked about it being All Souls Day.  I admitted to Philip that I thought something might have been wrong when I started feeling less nauseous and more energetic.  I said I was scared to miscarry and wondered how painful it would be.  

Finally, I said that I wanted to call my family members and start sharing the news while I could still talk, and I asked Philip if he was ready to share the news.  He said to go ahead and start calling.  I figured it would be harder to talk as time went on, and I wanted to tell my family members about losing Baby myself.  

The hardest conversation was probably talking to my dad.  I had called my mom on her way out of the office for the day, but I waited a few hours until after I knew Dad was home and Mom had already told him before I called.  Ugh, it's so hard to share sad news with your dad and hear him heartbroken for you.  We cried, we talked about Baby being a saint that will pray and intercede for all of us, and I told him how I was doing.  I said, "I know there's not a right way or a wrong way to feel and that I'm still processing that we lost the baby, but I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace.  My faith and Philip's faith is in such a good place right now that we have to believe that God loves us even more than we love our own children and that He is allowing this because He knows that something good will come of it.  I'm waiting for those graces to come, and I'm trusting in that plan, and I'm going to keep grieving, but the more powerful feeling is peace.  I've been praying to the Blessed Mother all day because she knows what it's like to lose a child.  She'll give me the strength I need."  Dad said all kinds of sweet and supportive things, but the thing that made me tear up the most was him saying, "I wish you were a little girl again and I could take you to the toystore to try and cheer you up and make it all better."  Now that I'm a parent, I understand that.  You want to do everything you can to take away your baby's hurt, and he knows he can't.

When we put the kids to bed that night, we gathered on Janie's bedroom floor and looked at the nightlight stars and moon on the ceiling like always.  Philip recapped the day for our "Bedtime Sweet Talk" since I couldn't, and he led us in our usual Guardian Angel Prayer followed with, "God bless Daddy, God bless Mommy, God bless Janie, God bless Walt, God bless Baby in heaven, God bless Monty, and God bless all of our friends and family."  I love him for remembering Baby in our prayer.

It doesn't get easier each time I call someone to say that Baby died, but it does help to talk about the reality of our loss and sadness.  We don't regret sharing the news of our pregnancy a week ago only to have to share that Baby died shortly thereafter.  We are glad that we shared the joy of celebrating in Baby's life so that we can grieve with those same people who shared in our joy.          

I haven't gone through the physical ordeal of losing Baby yet, and I know that will be the hardest part of all.  Anticipating that time, I'm sure I'll be praying two prayers, and I ask you to please pray them for me as well.  I will pray to the Blessed Mother to give me the strength she had to endure standing at the foot of the cross, watch her son die, and fulfill Simeon's prophesy that her heart would be pierced with a sword.  My second prayer will be that I have the faith to pray, "Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in You."  If I don't have the strength to pray or do anything else but physically get through the moment, I hope I can find strength and peace as I gaze at my Sacred Heart high school class ring with the image of Jesus and Mary's hearts intertwined.    

Philip and I decided we wanted to name Baby so that when we pray to our saint in heaven or talk about Baby, we have a name.  We weren't far enough in the pregnancy to be able to know Baby's sex.  Since Philip and I had an inkling that Baby was a girl, we chose a girl's name--Thérèse.  Like St. Thérèse of Lisieux, our own "little flower" lived a short time and will spend the rest of her life in heaven, interceding as a prayer warrior for others.   

Last night as we were trying to go to sleep, I thanked Philip for being so good about hearing all of the things I was thinking, but that I wanted to hear how he was feeling and what he was thinking.  The thing that stood out the most was him saying through tears, "I think we're really lucky, you know.  We have a child that we know is a saint in heaven, and that's what we want for our children.  We're lucky to have the extra motivation to get each other and our other children to heaven so that we can all be together as a family."

Thank you for sharing in our joy, and thank you for sharing in our grief.  Thank you in advance for your prayers, for allowing us to grieve, for listening, for just being there, and for all of the many other ways you are helping.  Having faith that God allowed this tragedy as part of His plan doesn't make our suffering easier, but it gives our suffering purpose and meaning.  We are just beginning the grieving and healing, and we know we will somehow get through this time with our faith and the support, prayers, and love of our family and friends.  Thérèse is and will forever be a beloved saint for our family.

Thriving at Home During Ordinary Time

I asked friends to send me blog topic suggestions since I was in a writing rut.  A friend sent me this:

"Write about the struggles of being a mom, a stay at home mom. We...meaning I, have been having a rough week of it and as sad as it sounds, would like to hear that I am not the only one that struggles with being at home all day with (insert number) kids who seem bent on doing nothing but fight and scream at each other and destroy every last bit of patience you have."

Instantly, I remembered a post from my favorite blogger, Simcha Fisher, on this very topic.  She called it, "Escape from Babyland."  (Forgive me for including such a long excerpt, but Simcha is too good to only share a sentence or two!)

What's the one thing frazzled young moms always hear?  "These years go by so quickly -- enjoy it while you can!"  Which is sort of like getting a severe sunburn and hearing, "Summer will be gone before you know it -- enjoy it while you can!"

Oh, settle down.  I'm not really saying that spending time with your nice little baby is a blistering agony.  As the proud owner of a schnoogily, schnoogily little baby girl who has two pearly little teeth and the cutiest, wootiest style of scooty crawling that any baby in the history of ever has ever invented because she is brilliant, believe me when I say that there is nothing nicer than babies. It's true:  Babies do grow up incredibly quickly, and the special joy of the baby years melts away like fog in the midmorning sun.  I'm not looking forward to the day when my kids will be gone.

Still, there is only so much joy a person can stand. I can remember, for instance, having three children, all in diapers.  When my  husband came home in the evening, and I would feel confused, unsure of how to deal with something that wasn't a bottom.  I knew he had many wonderful qualities, but my favorite thing about him was that he could pour his own juice.  All day, every day, everything was up to me, me, me, and even though I loved my work, it was unrelenting.

In short, I was stuck in Babyland.  Babyland is a wonderful place, where all the voices are squeaky, all the clothes are adorable, love and affection flows freely, and where mothers often go to lose their minds entirely, and would trade their immortal soul for five minutes of adult conversation and an uninterrupted cup of coffee.

So when I see a young mom struggling wearily through the day, I don't tell her, "These days go by so quickly," even though this is true.  What I say is, "The years go by quickly -- but the days sure are long, aren't they?"  And then I say,  "Don't worry -- you won't always be stuck in Babyland."

As a family, we have plenty of anniversaries, birthdays, memorials, and other traditions to celebrate together.  In between those special celebrations, there's plenty of the ordinary, too--especially the long days in Babyland.  

This got me to thinking about the changing seasons, winter looming ahead, the upcoming holidays, and the liturgical calendar.  Just like our family calendars, the Church's liturgical calendar also has plenty of Ordinary Time.  The Church doesn't call this time "Ordinary" because it's somehow humdrum or boring.  I can't possibly explain the meaning of Ordinary Time better than Catholic Culture, so I'll just copy and paste their summary:

Ordinary Time, meaning ordered or numbered time, is celebrated in two segments: from the Monday following the Baptism of Our Lord up to Ash Wednesday; and from Pentecost Monday to the First Sunday of Advent. This makes it the largest season of the Liturgical Year.

In vestments usually green, the color of hope and growth, the Church counts the thirty-three or thirty-four Sundays of Ordinary Time, inviting her children to meditate upon the whole mystery of Christ – his life, miracles and teachings – in the light of his Resurrection.

If the faithful are to mature in the spiritual life and increase in faith, they must descend the great mountain peaks of Easter and Christmas in order to "pasture" in the vast verdant meadows of tempus per annum, or Ordinary Time.

Sunday by Sunday, the Pilgrim Church marks her journey through the tempus per annum as she processes through time toward eternity. 

Check out the 2012 Liturgical Calendar below.  The purple is Advent and Lent, yellow is Christmas and Easter, and do you see all of that green?  That, my friends, is Ordinary Time. 

In between the feasting and fasting, Mother Church gives us a chance to live out the Truths of the Faith in the Ordinary.   Ordinary Time is our opportunity to follow along on the path of obedience as disciples of Christ.  There is so much to learn, practice, and implement in our daily lives.  The word disciple came to us from other words meaning "pupil, student, follower," "to learn," "to grasp," "to accept."  If we're going to be disciples, we need to be a pupil willing to learn, grasp, and accept what it is that God asks of us on a daily basis--especially in the ordinary.

For the average stay-at-home mom, there's plenty of ordinary, and a lot of our days are cyclical.  In fact, in my less than grace-filled moments I've complained that some days I feel like Sisyphus, pushing that boulder up the hill only to have it come rolling back down, or like a hamster on a spinning wheel.  

Make a meal, serve a meal, clean up a meal.  Repeat.  

Wash clothes, dry clothes, fold clothes, put away clothes, wear clothes.  Repeat.  

I'm sitting here, thinking about all of the things I do over and over again on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis.  It would be mind-numbing and depressing if I believed what the world told me about my job.  The world wants me to believe that I'm wasting my brain, I'm acting like a slave, I'm unfulfilled, and that I'm not supposed to be happy at home.  At the right event, I might even be tempted to believe all of that when I consider the questions people ask when they find out I stay at home. 

"What do you do all day?"
"Don't you miss work?
"How can you stand it?!"
"What do you do to keep your mind from going to mush?" 

Couple those negative voices and outside pressures to hate being at home with, say, a family bout of the stomach flu, a child's decision to go on a hunger strike, a broken furnace, and a beloved family heirloom memento being smashed to smithereens by a toddler, and the temptation to say, "What in the world am I doing?!" can seem overwhelming.    

Fortunately, the ample ordinary time at home forces me to face my vices head-on and, hopefully, do something to combat them.  I don't necessarily smile with every dirty diaper or swipe of the dust rag, but the ordinary days provide me with countless opportunities to make an essential choice:  Will I choose to give my life in service of those I love, or will I resist self-sacrifice and give in to my vices? 

I've noticed a pattern.  When I'm keeping my priorities straight (God, husband, children, extended family, everyone and everything else), it's a lot easier to resist my vices, and I'm much more productive.  When I abandon my prayer time because I'm "too busy," don't spend quality time with Philip, or focus on the housework more than the children, I'm unhappier, the days don't have direction, and the pity parties happen on an hourly basis.  Those are the days when I give in to the temptation to throw my hands in the air and say, "I give up!"

Two months ago, I had what should have been one of those "I give up!" days.  Philip was in the midst of his month of working night shifts, and after three weeks, it had lost its novelty.  It had been an especially long day, and I was tired.  Just as I had put the babies down for bed and sat down on the couch, Philip called to check in.  I started to tell him that it had been a long day, that we missed him, but that it was going alright, when I heard Walt make a strange noise.  I told Philip that I would call him back and opened the nursery door to discover that Walt had thrown up.

The poor baby was covered from head to toe, as were his crib, sheets, blankets, and surrounding wall and furniture.  I gave him a bath, cleaned the wall, crib, and carpet, changed his sheets, rocked him back to sleep, and washed his bedding.  

As I came upstairs from starting the wash, I heard Walt getting sick again.  I opened the door and took a deep breath as I turned on the lamp to take in the scene.  It was deja vu.  Walt and his surroundings looked just as they had forty-five minutes before.

I picked up my poor, sweet baby and let myself cry for one minute.  Then, from seemingly out of nowhere, I heard myself say, "Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, I place my trust in You.  Blessed Mother, please help me!  Make me patient, gentle, and loving."  Of course, that prayer didn't come out of nowhere.  Despite it being a stressful month, I had been keeping my priority of relationships straight, and my prayer life was strong.  I know the Holy Spirit was helping me in that moment to make that choice that I make countless times everyday:  Will I choose to give my life in service of those I love, or will I resist self-sacrifice and give in to my vices?  With some extra grace, I was able to pray and make the right choice instead of saying, "I give up!" and throwing myself a pity party.   

I was even able to laugh when I realized the washing machine was still filling from the first load, so I had time to throw in the second set of dirty bedding and pajamas!  Now THAT is looking on the bright side! 

I don't share that story as a pat-on-the-back moment.  I know it wasn't me that got me through that night.  I share that story because I believe it illustrates that we need only ask God for the graces to get through the "I give up!" moments that fill the ordinary days (and nights!).  He's our Loving Father, and He wants us to come to Him in our time of need instead of being prideful enough to think that we can handle it all on our own.  

When we maintain the proper order of relationships, take the days in stride, keep our sense of humor, and reach out to our husbands, family, and friends to lovingly correct us when we've gone offtrack, the ordinary days are full of "my cup runneth over" joy instead of "how am I going to get through this day?!" despair.  We don't have to love every moment or drop to our knees in thanksgiving for every opportunity of redemptive suffering, but we do need to figure out whether our presence is lovingly advancing our family's mission or if we are derailing it with doomy gloomy negativity and self-absorption.  

It's good to admit when you're going through a difficult phase and do something about it--ask for help, ask for honest input, and, when necessary, seek out spiritual direction or professional counseling.  What's not okay is living each day as a martyr, building up resentment, not communicating with others about problems, just getting through the day.  

God didn't give us His Son so that we could get through the day.  Jesus "came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly" (John 10:10).  Just as the liturgical color of Ordinary Time is green, the color of life and growth, our ordinary days should be marked by daily growth and advancement of our mission as disciples.      

Easy Pinterest Art Project

I found the inspiration for our Pinterest art project here.  Here's a picture of the original:

 

We liked the original idea, but we wanted square canvases and cleaner lines that didn't allow the paint to bleed.  Thanks to the Jo-Anns Labor Day Sale, we got the canvases, spray paint, and painter's tape at 40% off.  This would prove to be an even sweeter deal when we made a mistake and had to buy another canvas.  (Fortunately, I had another coupon to get the 4th canvas at 40% off as well!)

The supplies:   

Here is the blank wall that we wanted to fill.

 Canvases with blue painter's tape.  We tested one canvas at a time.  Unfortunately, the blue painter's tape allowed the spray paint to bleed underneath because it bubbled.

Although it was thicker than I wanted, we switched to the green painter's tape.  It stuck much better than the blue and survived two coats of spray paint for even color.  Make sure the tape wraps completely around the sides as well.

 Removing the tape

Let the spray paint dry at least 24 hours.  Make sure to remove the very top strip of tape, one at a time.

Removing the tape on our green canvas.

Finished product up on the walls

 Hooray for a fun, successful, inexpensive art project!

Plugging Your Life's Meters

August was a dry spell for me--emotionally, physically, spiritually.  I'm calling September my recovery month!   

Philip, amazing husband and pediatric resident, was working a month of nights.  Despite all of his best efforts to make the month a painless one, it was difficult.  If this makes any sense, I felt like a married but single mom.  Philip needed his rest during the day, did his best to spend a few hours with me and the kids between naps, and left for the hospital in the late afternoon.  The evenings were long, and after the kids went to bed, I was left to my own devices--to do some housework, bake, or prep the next day's meal.  When I was feeling less than industrious, which was more often than not, I wasted too much time on the Internet, read, or indulged in the occasional pity party. 

I developed a lot of bad habits that month.  I neglected my afternoon prayer during the kids' naptime.  I justified it, telling myself it was important to take a nap with Philip and spend some time with him that way--even if we were just sleeping next to each other.  I stayed up way too late in the evenings, playing on Pinterest, checking Facebook, or reading articles online because I struggled to sleep without Philip home.  I let the kids watch too much television.  I justified it because, for that month, I was a single mom who was just doing the best she could.  Looking back, it's downright terrifying how easily I could justify all of those lies to myself.  

Fortunately, for me and my family, the month of nights is over, and we're getting back into our refreshingly normal, ho-hum routine.  With our routine back in action, I'm trying to drop my bad habits (vices) and trying to build some good habits (virtues)!  My hope is that these good habits, or virtues, will become such a part of my life that the next time a difficult patch (like a month of Philip working nights) hits, I'll be better prepared. 

The key, so far, seems to be "feeding the meters" of all areas of my life by giving them a "time-in" each day.  These focused, dedicated segments of time to the different areas of my life are paying off in big ways.  It seems counter-intuitive, but when I give as much of myself as I can to all areas of my life, I have more energy, and I end up accomplishing more.    

I plug my spiritual meter by coming to God in dedicated prayer time.  He's never outdone in generosity!  Not only do I usually walk away with a much-needed reality check, but He multiplies my time, and I almost always complete my daily do-it list after dedicated prayer time.  Someday, hopefully soon, I will have enough self-discipline to wake up before the children and start my day with this dedicated prayer time.   

I plug my children's meters when I give them lavish affection, read an extra book before nap/bedtime, put a spotlight on their good behavior, embrace the mess of a new craft/baking project, or get down on the ground and join them in play.  When my children receive more time-ins during the day than time-outs, I'm rewarded as a parent in two major ways:  

1. They return the attention with their own lavish affection.
2. They "run off the fumes" of our time together and allow me to get a few things done after our time-in.

I plug my own meter emotionally by giving myself real breaks throughout the day.  I thought I was getting a lot accomplished by constantly multitasking.  I'm getting much more accomplished when I tackle each project one at a time and give myself two 10-minute breaks in the day (one before lunch and one before dinner).  I spend my break time reading inspiring articles, checking Facebook, or adding pins on Pinterest.  Rather than leave the laptop computer open on the kitchen counter all day, I created new technology boundaries.  The laptop can only be open for a few reasons:

• I am taking one of my two (AM & PM) 10-minute breaks.
• I am reading a recipe online while I am making dinner.
• I am returning e-mails or other online correspondence for no longer than half an hour.
• I am blogging (with no other windows/programs open) after I complete my prayer time.

I keep my laptop closed so that I don't see incoming e-mails, Facebook notifications, etc.  I leave my daily do-it list on top of the closed laptop so that I have a visual reminder that I have other things I need to accomplish during the day before indulging in these online distractions.  With my built-in breaks and a closed laptop, I don't feel the temptation to keep up with e-mails, Facebook, Pinterest, etc.  I know that I can take my break when I need it, and the time will be spent exclusively on enjoying it.  With the built-in breaks, I don't get burnt out doing everything else during the day.  Without the breaks, I was getting burnt out by lunchtime and would have what I call a "Bad Mama Moment."  A "Bad Mama Moment" is doing something like losing yourself in a half an hour of Pinterest while your kids stare at the television because you haven't taken a break all day.  To keep my "Bad Mama Moments" as few and far between as possible, I set a timer for my AM and PM breaks.  When I hear the timer go off after 10 minutes, I'm able to close the laptop and get back to the work of the day refreshed.

I plug our marriage meter when I help Philip to "rejoice in the wife of (his) youth."  When I do that, I am remembering to fill his meter before the children's meters.  When I make a nice meal, give him a warm welcome home, show genuine interest in his day, give him affection, suggest we do something other than watch television, and keep a firm bedtime routine with the children, I am showing Philip that I love our children, but that he is still my first priority.  With self-discipline on my part, we are able to have nutritious, home-cooked dinners at least 6 nights out of the week, and the kids are asleep by 8:00 so that we can have an hour or two together before bed.  With that dedicated time one-on-one, we have more energy to fill our spiritual, physical, and emotional meters together.  Our prayer life together is back in full-bloom, and we feel more intimate physically and emotionally.

With the help of some truly amazing girlfriends, I am learning that it is a good, beautiful, and often necessary thing to take a break or ask for help.  For example, one sweet friend brought over a coffee and watched the kids this morning so that I could run a few errands by myself.  I felt like I was on vacation!  When I backed out of the driveway in my minivan all by myself, I felt dangerous listening to the music a little louder than usual and luxuriously looking at clothes for myself.  When I came back, the kids were happy to see me, I was refreshed, and we read every single book we checked out from the library this week before naptime just because.  The time apart from each other was good for all of us, and my friend was happy to help out because she knows I'll do the same for her whenever she needs it.  

This same friend and her husband do a monthly date night swap with us.  One night each month, each couple has a chance to go on a date while the other couple babysits.  The babysitting couple brings their kiddos over to the other couple's house.  The kiddos play together until bedtime, and the visiting kiddos return home with their dad.  The babysitting mom stays until the couple returns home.  Both couples get one free date night a month, and the kiddos have another chance to see their buddies.  It's a win-win for everyone involved! 

For now, this plugging the meters approach is working to build good habits in my daily life.  My prayer life is better, the kids are happier, our marriage is flourishing, and I am much healthier physically and emotionally with the fun of friendships and real breaks throughout my day.   

I'm still a work in progress, and I will be until the day I die, so in no way am I doing a perfect job of filling all of my life's meters on a daily basis.  Some days, I'll do a great job of filling one meter but completely neglect others.  I'm learning that everything else seems to fall in place when I keep my spiritual meter fed.  God helps keep all of the other meters in perspective.  So long as I'm showing God that I love Him and show the people He put in my life that I'm trying, it's a good day.      

Non-Negotiable Issues for the Catholic Voter

A Moral Obligation

In just a few months, we have the opportunity and the moral obligation to elect new leaders in this country.

Submission to authority and co-responsibility for the common good make it morally obligatory to pay taxes, to exercise the right to vote, and to defend one's country.           Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2240. 

As Catholic voters, we do not necessarily fulfill this moral obligation by filling out a ballot and getting an "I VOTED TODAY" sticker.  We are morally obliged to be well-informed voters with well-formed consciences who vote accordingly.  

What does that mean?  

Well, in some elections, voters are deciding on issues that have several morally good solutions, and their job is to select the best strategy.  In other elections, voters encounter "non-negotiables," the issues on which the Catholic voter must never compromise or make exceptions.  The candidate or issue endorsing the side out of favor with Church Teaching on "non-negotiable" issues must not receive a Catholic's support.  As far as possible, the Catholic voter is morally obliged to cast a vote for the issue or candidate in line with Church Teaching--whether in a national, state, or local election.  

No election is "too small" to apply these moral principles.  Each and every election matters, especially when we consider how our nation's top-ranking political leaders got their starts on city councils, school boards, etc.  Evaluate each candidate, taking into account which non-negotiable issues he or she will likely encounter in office.  As the Voter's Guide for Serious Catholics says, "One should seek to elect to lower offices candidates who support Christian morality so that they will have a greater ability to be elected to higher offices where their moral stances may come directly into play."  

Unfortunately, in some elections, none of the available candidates have a clean record or platform on the non-negotiable issues.  In those instances, the voter (who is well-informed with a well-formed conscience) votes for the candidate who will likely do the least harm among all available candidates, and consider their views on other, lesser issues. 

In some elections, a voter can morally decline voting if all available candidates endorse one or more of the non-negotiable issues.  However, the voter must remember that voting for one of these candidates is not necessarily a positive endorsement; it may be tolerating a lesser evil to avoid a greater evil. 

5 Non-Negotiables

While there are many more than 5 non-negotiable issues for Catholics, there are 5 issues most in play in United States politics today.  Those "top 5" non-negotiable issues that must never be promoted by law are:

1. Abortion
2. Euthanasia 
3. Embryonic Stem Cell Research
4. Human Cloning
5. Same-Sex "Marriage"

 Priests for Life did such a great job of summing up these issues in publishing the Catholic Answers Voter's Guide for Serious Catholics, that I copied their summaries.  (Abbreviations below):

1. Abortion

The Church teaches that, regarding a law permitting abortions, it is "never licit to obey it, or to take part in a propaganda campaign in favor of such a law, or to vote for it" (EV 73). Abortion is the intentional and direct killing of an innocent human being, and therefore it is a form of homicide.

The unborn child is always an innocent party, and no law may permit the taking of his life. Even when a child is conceived through rape or incest, the fault is not the child’s, who should not suffer death for others’ sins.

2. Euthanasia

Often disguised by the name "mercy killing," euthanasia is also a form of homicide. No person has a right to take his own life, and no one has the right to take the life of any innocent person.

In euthanasia, the ill or elderly are killed, by action or omission, out of a misplaced sense of compassion, but true compassion cannot include intentionally doing something intrinsically evil to another person (cf. EV 73).

3. Embryonic Stem Cell Research

Human embryos are human beings. "Respect for the dignity of the human being excludes all experimental manipulation or exploitation of the human embryo" (CRF 4b).

Recent scientific advances show that often medical treatments that researchers hope to develop from experimentation on embryonic stem cells can be developed by using adult stem cells instead. Adult stem cells can be obtained without doing harm to the adults from whom they come. Thus there is no valid medical argument in favor of using embryonic stem cells. And even if there were benefits to be had from such experiments, they would not justify destroying innocent embryonic humans.

4. Human Cloning

"Attempts . . . for obtaining a human being without any connection with sexuality through ‘twin fission,’ cloning, or parthenogenesis are to be considered contrary to the moral law, since they are in opposition to the dignity both of human procreation and of the conjugal union" (RHL I:6).

Human cloning also involves abortion because the "rejected" or "unsuccessful" embryonic clones are destroyed, yet each clone is a human being.

5. Homosexual "Marriage"

True marriage is the union of one man and one woman. Legal recognition of any other union as "marriage" undermines true marriage, and legal recognition of homosexual unions actually does homosexual persons a disfavor by encouraging them to persist in what is an objectively immoral arrangement.

"When legislation in favor of the recognition of homosexual unions is proposed for the first time in a legislative assembly, the Catholic lawmaker has a moral duty to express his opposition clearly and publicly and to vote against it. To vote in favor of a law so harmful to the common good is gravely immoral" (UHP 10).

ABBREVIATIONS

CCC Catechism of the Catholic Church
CPL Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith, Doctrinal Notes on Some Questions regarding the Participation of Catholics in Political Life
CRF Pontifical Council for the Family, Charter of the Rights of the Family
EV John Paul II, Evangelium Vitae (The Gospel of Life)
RHL Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Instruction on Respect for Human Life in Its Origin and on the Dignity of Procreation
UHP Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Considerations regarding Proposals to Give Legal Recognition to Unions between Homosexual Persons

So, how does a Catholic voter become well-informed?  

Consult the candidates' voting records, read the news, and consider the bias of all of your sources.  Contact the candidates or the candidates' offices directly if you are unclear on their stances on a particular issue, especially if the candidates are in a local election.   

Well-Informed and Well-Formed

Once a Catholic voter is well-informed on the candidates, he or she must make sure that their conscience is also well-formed.  A well-formed conscience will never contradict Church Teaching.  To find out what the Catholic Church teaches, start by consulting the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  

A candidate does not merit a Catholic's vote merely because of his or her political party, charisma, or self-proclaimed Catholicism.  The candidate worthy of a Catholic voter's endorsement is the one who is (most) in line with Church Teaching, and, therefore, will do the least harm and promote the most good.      

 

The Problem

Most think that the so-called "Catholic Vote" is a myth in today's elections.  

My Prayer

I pray that that myth gets turned on its head come November.  

May all of our nation's priests be emboldened to share the Truth of Church Teaching from the pulpit, especially on these non-negotiable issues.  The sheep are hungry for Truth!   

May our courageous priests receive tremendous graces for shepherding their flocks and feel the support of their bride, the Church.  

May all of the Church faithful humbly submit themselves to Church authority, praying for our priests, and voting with well-formed consciences. 

May we never take for granted our religious liberty or our "right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."  

Happiness, accurately understood, is living out our Christian "vocation to beatitude."  "The Beatitudes respond to the natural desire for happiness. This desire is of divine origin: God has placed it in the human heart in order to draw man to the One who alone can fulfill it" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1718).  In other words, as St. Augustine said, our hearts will be restless until they rest in God.  

How much more will our country be restless if its leadership remains godless?  So long as we build a kingdom on earth that is not godly, believing that our individual "pursuit of happiness" is a license for moral relativism or free-for-all hedonism, we will toil in vain like those in Psalm 127. 

"Unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain who build.  Unless the Lord guard the city, in vain does the guard keep watch.  It is vain for you to rise early and put off your rest at night, To eat bread earned by hard toil--all this God gives to his beloved in sleep"  (Psalm 127:1-2).

Now, and always, may Catholic citizens vote with well-formed consciences to serve the Eternal Kingdom rather than this mere earthly one.  

Let us not forget we have but one Master.

"No man can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other.  You cannot serve God and mammon"  (Matthew 6: 24).

On the 15th Anniversary of Blessed Mother Teresa's Death

Today is the 15th anniversary of Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta's death on September 5th, 1997.  Today is a chance to reflect on her life's work, the many blessings she brought to the people she served, and the blessings she continues to bring to those who never met, but are forever changed by her witness of Love.  

Mother Teresa, holding an armless orphan at one of her order's orphanages.

I was in junior high when Mother Teresa went on to her eternal reward, and I was too young or immature to understand the magnitude of this blessed woman's life.  Of her many famous quotes, my favorites come from her February 3, 1994 speech at the National Prayer Breakfast in Washington, D.C.  

As a woman who worked intimately with the poorest of the poor and the most unloved people on the planet, she witnessed the darkest consequences of human sin.  So, when this woman, who saw the consequences of sin unabashedly zeroed in on abortion as "the greatest destroyer of peace today," if we are wise, we will listen.  Below is my favorite excerpt from her National Prayer Breakfast speech.  If you cannot read her beautiful speech in its entirety, please, at the very least, read the excerpt below.  (Priests for Life have the full text as well as the audio available in MP3 format here.)         

Any country that accepts abortion is not teaching its people to love, but to use any violence to get what they want. This is why the greatest destroyer of love and peace is abortion.

Many people are very, very concerned with the children of India, with the children of Africa where quite a few die of hunger, and so on. Many people are also concerned about all the violence in this great country of the United States. These concerns are very good. But often these same people are not concerned with the millions who are being killed by the deliberate decision of their own mothers. And this is what is the greatest destroyer of peace today - abortion which brings people to such blindness.

And for this I appeal in India and I appeal everywhere - "Let us bring the child back." The child is God's gift to the family. Each child is created in the special image and likeness of God for greater things - to love and to be loved. In this year of the family we must bring the child back to the center of our care and concern. This is the only way that our world can survive because our children are the only hope for the future. As older people are called to God, only their children can take their places.

But what does God say to us? He says: "Even if a mother could forget her child, I will not forget you. I have carved you in the palm of my hand." We are carved in the palm of His hand; that unborn child has been carved in the hand of God from conception and is called by God to love and to be loved, not only now in this life, but forever. God can never forget us.

I will tell you something beautiful. We are fighting abortion by adoption - by care of the mother and adoption for her baby. We have saved thousands of lives. We have sent word to the clinics, to the hospitals and police stations: "Please don't destroy the child; we will take the child." So we always have someone tell the mothers in trouble: "Come, we will take care of you, we will get a home for your child." And we have a tremendous demand from couples who cannot have a child - but I never give a child to a couple who have done something not to have a child. Jesus said. "Anyone who receives a child in my name, receives me." By adopting a child, these couples receive Jesus but, by aborting a child, a couple refuses to receive Jesus.

Please don't kill the child. I want the child. Please give me the child. I am willing to accept any child who would be aborted and to give that child to a married couple who will love the child and be loved by the child.

From our children's home in Calcutta alone, we have saved over 3000 children from abortion. These children have brought such love and joy to their adopting parents and have grown up so full of love and joy.

I know that couples have to plan their family and for that there is natural family planning.

The way to plan the family is natural family planning, not contraception.

In destroying the power of giving life, through contraception, a husband or wife is doing something to self. This turns the attention to self and so it destroys the gift of love in him or her. In loving, the husband and wife must turn the attention to each other as happens in natural family planning, and not to self, as happens in contraception. Once that living love is destroyed by contraception, abortion follows very easily.

I also know that there are great problems in the world - that many spouses do not love each other enough to practice natural family planning. We cannot solve all the problems in the world, but let us never bring in the worst problem of all, and that is to destroy love. And this is what happens when we tell people to practice contraception and abortion.

The poor are very great people. They can teach us so many beautiful things. Once one of them came to thank us for teaching her natural family planning and said: "You people who have practiced chastity, you are the best people to teach us natural family planning because it is nothing more than self-control out of love for each other." And what this poor person said is very true. These poor people maybe have nothing to eat, maybe they have not a home to live in, but they can still be great people when they are spiritually rich.   

Blessed Mother Teresa, pray for us.  May the consciences of the voters in the United States be formed to realize that abortion remains "the greatest destroyer of peace today," as you said it was in 1994.  Thank you for showing us how to love until it hurts and to start within our own families.  

"There is so much hatred, so much misery, and we with our prayer, with our sacrifice, are beginning at home. Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do, but how much love we put into what we do."     

"Rejoice in the Wife of Your Youth"

"Foreshadowing."  Walking downtown on our wedding day as an older couple approaches.

My little trip down memory lane to our first date made me think of the thrill of our new relationship and the butterflies from our first kiss.  Seven years later, we are no doubt more in love with each other than ever.  The depth of our love for one another and the intimacy that we feel physically, emotionally, and spiritually far surpasses the love we felt the day we professed our wedding vows.  

However, both Philip and I will readily admit that the passion that came so easily in the beginning of our romance needs more coaxing (and even plotting!) these days.  Philip has a hectic schedule as a pediatric resident.  His hectic schedule translates into long hours on my end as a stay-at-home mom.  Our limited time together coupled with the physical and emotional demands of raising young children, our limited finances, and our culture's demand that our children be our top priority could be a recipe for disaster.  

I'd be lying if I said that residency has been a breeze and that I love every moment of it.  However, this testing time has been the source of many blessings in our marriage.  I wrote in a previous post that our limited time together actually taught us to move through problems faster, get to "I'm sorry," and spend more time together.  

In learning how to be more effective communicators, we are also learning more about each other's love languages (how each of us wants to receive love).  Not surprisingly, most people show love toward others the way they want to receive love.  Dr. Gary Chapman, author of The 5 Love Languages, has a website dedicated to teaching about the Love Languages.  The 5 Love Language are:

• Words of affirmation
• Quality time
• Receiving gifts
• Acts of service
• Physical touch

Philip and I took the online assessment to find out what our love languages are.  Here are our results:

Philip is on the left, I am on the right

According to the 5 Love Languages site, most people usually fall in love with people who have completely different love languages.  Not so with me and Philip!  Despite independently taking the assessment, we scored almost identically.  After discussing our results, it was obvious that we value words of affirmation most, then quality time, and physical touch third.  Acts of service scored fairly high for me, a little lower for Philip, and receiving gifts was the lowest score for both of us.  Basically, it looks like we prefer to be loved in all of the ways except for receiving gifts!  

We talked about how each of us shows and receives these different love languages.  We are both happy with how one another is using words of affirmation and quality time to express love.  Together, we decided that we both need to do a better job of using the love language of physical touch.  The 5 Love Languages site sums up Physical Touch like this:

This language isn’t all about the bedroom. A person whose primary language is Physical Touch is, not surprisingly, very touchy. Hugs, pats on the back, holding hands, and thoughtful touches on the arm, shoulder, or face—they can all be ways to show excitement, concern, care, and love. Physical presence and accessibility are crucial, while neglect or abuse can be unforgivable and destructive.

To sum up our discussion on physical touch, I asked Philip to use physical touch more often, especially in non-romantic ways.  Philip asked me to use physical touch more often, especially in romantic ways.   

I am reading Kimberly Hahn's Chosen and Cherished: Biblical Wisdom for Your Marriage.  She has tremendous insight into building intimacy and trust between the spouses.  A few of the chapters in her book are giving me insight into why Philip and I are feeling so differently about physical touch.  She has this to say about the challenges for young families:

One of the difficulties moms with small children face is that, by the end of the day, they have been touched and touched.  A woman may feel that she really does not want any more physical affection that day.  Yet her spouse has not been touched all day.  She needs to be responsive to him, especially if touch is his primary love language.  

YES!  Although we both value physical touch, by day's end, Philip and I need very different things physically.  He comes home, anxious for a big kiss and conversation.  He hasn't had a hug or a kiss since he left that morning.  I, on the other hand, have been touched all day.  Feeding, changing, and loving little ones is a very physical job.  By day's end, I am thrilled to see Philip, but a big make-out session is usually the last thing on my mind.  I wish I could say that my first impulse is to land a big wet one on him when he walks in the door.  Unfortunately, I got into the habit of brushing off his affection and asking him to help corral the kids while I get dinner on the table.  If I've spent the last thirty minutes prepping dinner with one toddler at my feet and another asking a question every ten seconds, it's not enticing to have a touchy husband lingering while I'm stirring something on the stove.  All I want physically is a peck on the cheek and to hear the words, "C'mon, kids.  Let's get out of Mom's way and play in the family room."  

Philip, sweet husband that he is, usually conceded to this being his homecoming and made the most of it.  After our conversation about love languages, I realized that I'm not doing a good enough job of initiating romantic physical touch, especially for his homecoming each day.  Kimberly Hahn beautifully calls us to imitate Christ serving His bride, the Church, by serving our husbands.

This is the call to follow Christ to serve rather than to be served.  It means affirming your spouse, even when you feel unappreciated.  It means asking him what you can do for him, expressing the love languages of gift giving or acts of service, even though you are tired from serving your children all day.

After talking with some other mothers with young children, I learned I am not the only one who struggles to make my husband's daily homecoming a beautiful experience.  One of my friends said that her grandmother gave her some advice that has stuck with her.  She said to give your husband a 90-second kiss everyday when he comes home.  This sounds simple enough, but, really, when was the last time you greeted your husband with a 90-second kiss?  Go ahead.  Set a timer.  Even if you don't feel "into it" when you start the kiss, surely by the 10 or 15 second mark you'll remember that you two "still have it."  Philip tells me to keep taking that friend's advice!

Kimberly Hahn's mother went to a lot of effort to make her husband's daily homecoming special.

My mom prepared for my dad to come home from work.  About fifteen minutes before he arrived, she put on fresh makeup and perfume, changed her outfit if it was dirty, and brushed her teeth.  She was ready to greet him.

I know that this is tough when you are making dinner and caring for little ones.  However, welcoming your husband home sets the tone for dinner and the evening.

Little by little, I am trying to adopt this practice.  When Philip calls from the hospital to say that he's on his way home, I announce to the kids, "Daddy's coming home!  Let's get ready!"  I brush my teeth, freshen up my makeup, and change my clothes if they're dirty from the day.  We tidy up the family room if it needs it.  If I have the time and remember, I light a candle or pour each of us a glass of wine.

To ensure I have this time to get ready before Philip gets home, I'm doing a few things:

• Give the kids only 1 small snack a day after their afternoon nap around 4:00 p.m.
• With 1 small snack at 4:00 p.m., my kids are still hungry for dinner, but they're not soooooo starving that they're cranky for dinner and can't wait for Philip to get home 
• Save the kids' tv time for dinner making time
• This way, they'll want to watch their show at this time and won't be tempted to wander into the kitchen or need me
• Work smart, not hard.  Don't make this already stressful time more stressful by making dinner preparation take longer!  
• Do the meal prep work the night before or during naptime
• Crockpot recipes make dinnertime nearly stress-free
• Oven recipes are great because you can wash dishes as dinner bakes
• Freezer friendly meals are your friend!  Double your recipes so that you can freeze the extra one and any leftovers.

Philip didn't know I was doing all of these behind the scenes things, but he loves his new homecomings.  They're not always a Norman Rockwell picture, but I am happy to say that the extra effort is helping to set the tone for our evenings.  When I have the house, the kids, myself, and dinner taken care of enough to give Philip a warm welcome home, it makes for a much happier evening.  The 90-second kiss doesn't hurt, either!

The kids love it, too.  2-year-old Janie absolutely adores "getting ready" for Daddy to walk in the door.  She watches me reapply my makeup and always has to get her own fresh chapstick.  15-month-old Walt follows us from room to room and shrieks when Monty barks to tell us that Philip's car is pulling in.  When we hear the garage door open, the kids run to the gate at the top of the stairs to greet Philip.  After Philip and the kids have their moment, Philip and I can have our big welcome home hug and kiss.  

It sounds so simple, and it is, but dropping everything to prepare for this moment and give Philip a real welcome home kiss shows him that I still value physical touch and that he is my vocation.  The kids relish witnessing the love between us, too.  As we're smooching, Janie always says, "Awwwwww, Mommy and Daddy love each other!"  She usually ends up between us, squeezing me and Philip together to get in on the love fest.

Not surprisingly, Philip loves the change.  He'd much rather have a wife excited to greet him than the old me who would brush off his attempts at affection at the stove and point him toward the kids.  When I try to serve Philip's real need for physical touch when he walks in the door, he in turn is more willing to serve my genuine need for space and a little silence as I finish making the meal.  Kimberly Hahn wrote about a mother's need for silence at the end of the day:

Even though many women tend to talk more than men, if your children have talked to you from morning till night, you may crave some silence.

My children were great conversationalists from early on, saying wonderful and cute things.  By day's end I had listened a lot.  Scott (her husband) would ask, "Do you want to listen to a tape?  Or do you want me to put on some music?  Do you want to talk?"

My response was, "No, I just want to sit on the sofa for about fifteen minutes and be quiet, with no one touching me and no one talking to me."  After I drank in the silence, I would find Scott in his study and enjoy our conversation.  If the need for  listening was urgent, however, I relinquished my "right" to do things the way I wanted and instead focused on serving my beloved. 

After Philip changes, he takes the kids with him downstairs or they play in the family room so that I can have a little breathing room.  I crave silence by day's end, and Philip knows this.  Giving me a little space to cook and work in silence while he plays with the kids helps me to recharge and to be a better conversationalist over dinner.

We think everyone else wants to be loved exactly how we do.  Learning that Philip and I don't have the same needs at the end of the day and finding out how we can best love each other is changing the tone of our evenings together.  Little by little, these small changes are helping to bring back the spark that came so easily in the beginning of our romance.  Philip and I are still twenty-somethings, but these little things are helping me to be the wife of Philip's youth from Proverbs 5. 

"Let your fountain be blessed, / and rejoice in the wife of your youth, / a lovely deer, a graceful doe.  /  Let her affection fill you at all times with delight, / be infatuated always with her love" (Proverbs 5: 18-19).  

Philip, seeing me for the first time on our wedding day as I walked down the aisle