Surprised By Lunch

It’s all about Eve…

Kitty — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 02:14:09 +0000

I am of the opinion that Eve ate of the fruit for the simple reason that she was a woman. I believe that we, (women), are all Eve in a certain way: curious, unknowing and with a sometimes uncontrollable desire to control everything around us. It is my belief that, of all the curses that befell Eve, the hardest was that the Lord gave Adam authority over her: “and thou shalt be under thy husband’s power, and he shall have dominion over thee” (Genesis 3:16). Not because I am a woman “hear me roar” feminist, but rather because it is, for many women, the inclination towards independence in us that is hardest to suppress. In the same way, St. Paul extols us “Wives obey your husbands.” What an extraordinary thought! Aren’t we post-enlightenment females supposed to call all the shots? What would our Mothers say? (And indeed they do!!!) Why should we throw away all that they have accomplished in the last forty years, in a world where marriage is simply a legal term and an unbroken home the exception?
I say Ladies, however hard it may be (because it is awfully) we must fight this temptation. First out of love for us because our salvation can be found most assuredly by it. Secondly, we must for our husbands, because in a world where his gentlemanlike masculinity must be fought for, it will give him the courage to try. Finally, for our children for it will make it easier for them to recognize the relationship of the family unit with God’s authority manifested in the world.
It is my belief that our homes should resemble the union between the Holy Trinity, between Christ and His Church. The Father in the home should be as our heavenly Father setting the boundaries and guidelines by which the household is conducted. The Mother is as the Church, providing the means of accomplishing the Father’s will and guiding her children along their path to holiness. The children are the Church faithful trying to find their way (and constantly trying to push the limitations of authority.) I feel renewed and refreshed in our “new” generation. I believe that many people, people who SEE, understand that free-love and treating children as small adults simply does not work. As for me and mine we will (try to) serve the Lord and accomplish His holy will in all things (yes, even when I am throwing up☺)

Out of the Mouth of Babes

Kitty — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 15:12:31 +0000

On a recent excursion to the Zoo (a nearly weekly occurance in this family) my little Ana (2) was horrified by the sight she came upon…Two Moslem women wearing Birkas. She was terrified and started screaming at them “Munsters, munsters I SCARED!!!! Munsters!” My dear Levin had to physically remove the trembling child from the play area and try to calm her down. Of course, we felt terribly that she embarrassed the poor women so shamelessly, but I couldn’t help but see little Ana’s point of view as well. You have to be kind of weary of anyone who comes to the zoo in 104 degree Texas weather (this is not an exaggeration) dressed head to toe in long black material with only eyes showing. (Hey, at least they make us look a little more normal right.) The fact is that unless some serious shifts take place in our world (i.e. Anglos start having children, and no Levin and I can’t possibly have them all, even if we’ve got a good start) we will be the “Munsters” and they the norm.

The rabbit has died and the cat’s out of the bag!!!

Kitty — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 21:02:55 +0000

We’re having a baby, my baby and me!

Yes, Mr. Stork has struck our house again (we disregarded the warnings and fed him peanuts on the sly, now we’re his favorite house.) Well, naturally, I’ve been surprised by lunch everyday now for three weeks…

and it’s ability to resurface. ALL THE TIME!!! Not that I’m complaining (much), this is just part of the normal life of any expectant Mother right? Right! You can handle this! right. Okay, I’m better now, really. I promise not to blog again on the horrors of early pregnancy,unless I’m extolling some virtue to be acquired by it.

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Kitty — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 19:25:13 +0000

As I sit in the play area of my overcrowded local Chick-Fil-A, I notice a young woman staring at me from across the way (not an uncommon occurrence as I stroll about with my three skirt clad daughters in one hundred degree weather). I politely smile and nod at her, thus leaving a polite opportunity for conversation. Now, it should be said, that I am a prejudiced person. Unlike many of my Caucasian counterparts, my certain small contempt is for those perfectly tan, thin blondes, even though two of my children fit this description. If you happen to be a sorority brat as well, well that pretty much seals your fate for me! This young lady was a tall, thin, and tan blonde wearing an extremely short blue jean skirt and her sorority t-shirt. She asked if we had been to the zoo the previous day (we had) and insisted that she was not a stalker (yikes!) She had noticed us because I dress the girls alike and she wondered how I could handle (for that day) my relatively well-behaved children. She explained that she was a nanny for the summer (that explains the perfect physique those kids couldn’t be hers), and could hardly control the five and seven year olds that she cared for. She didn’t understand how parents could raise children without manners and seemed genuinely afraid and somewhat disillusioned by her experience with this family. I assured her that, “my children are polite,” (usually) and that, “no, I am not exhausted ALL the time “(mental reservation is not a sin).I left the conversation with the satisfaction of having met a perfectly lovely, scantily clad, sorority beauty, which in many ways made me reconsider my stereotypes (and how they fall under the category of Catholic charity.) I am glad to say that I was wrong about my first conceptions of her and was able to assist her with her views of children and parenting. I am sure that she saw me as a crazy Pentecostal with five zillion kids, sitting placidly knitting among the torrential screams of the inner heathens, but we parted both joyfully mistaken.

That Nefarious Power part 104586

Kitty — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 17:58:52 +0000

Okay, so it has been more than three weeks and the thing has STILL not moved. I am starting to think it never will…

The Nefarious Power Part 2

Kitty — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 13:30:28 +0000

Well, we are still deliberating. It’s funny, I wrote the post Friday and Levin reads it while the children are doing what? Watching the T.V. of course! We were TV free until we had children, but now…living in a two bedroom apartment with no yard…FOUR kids under six…(you want another excuse, because I know them all!) My problem is in temperance. I am not a person who can watch a show in the morning because I will never turn it back off. I can’t play online scrabble becuse it offers an unending supply of players and games and I have a hard time saying enough. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. I would like to think that we are strong enough to limit the amount of time that my little ones are plugged in, but I’m afraid that I just haven’t the gumption. So, I believe that the only option for us now is to remove the temptation and see how we fare. God Bless you all and pray for me!

“The Nefarious Power”

Kitty — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 05:03:16 +0000

My family would fall into the “conservative” traditional Catholic type, not too wimpy and definitely not extreme. (I am not judging those less or more stringent than we, I am simply giving you parameters.) We go to Mass, recite the Rosary often (okay, at best we are lukewarm), and try to live out the liturgical life of the Church within the demographical and financial means of our household. This means that gas is nearly four bucks a gallon and with daily Traditional Mass forty miles from our home, it is, unfortunately, not an option. We do, however, have one dirty little vice. Maybe you have it as well. Its name is “The Nefarious Power,” also known as Television. We do not have a satellite or even an antenna so we are not fed with the noxious influx of preprogrammed media 24/7; but we do frequent the library. Unfortunately we check out movies… not books. We are very selective about what we allow the children to watch, mostly early Disney movies, Kipper, Little Bear and the like. But when I read this article, it struck a cord. I am a chicken. I am afraid that should I let go of my “free media”, “entertainment”, “keep the kids occupied so I can cook dinner” machine, I will really be biting off more than I can chew. (My mouth is stuffed already.) The fact that I felt a bit of shame and recognized myself in what she said bothered me. If I truly believed in television’s innocence, I should have remained unbothered and nonchalant (the fact that Levin sent me the article helps with that Catholic guilt too, right?) So now I’m muddled and am lost as to the appropriate course of action; or at least I am trembling with fear at the thought and anticipating the shrieks of horror and despair should IT be removed.

The madness and the mystery… A reflection on fear.

Kitty — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 04:06:29 +0000

One of the phenomena of having more than two children is that you find yourself enjoying each subsequent childhood more than the previous one. This has been proven true with my limited experience (as well as many of my friends.) Perhaps it rests within the knowledge of just how fast those precious months and years pass; things that at one time were so terrible and repugnant now hold a type of basic charm, tolerance and joy. Joy in the ability to serve the basic bodily needs of the glorious soul entrusted to you (yes, this includes diapers, vomiting and a cannibalistic nine month old.) If ever asked for general advice from a new Mother, I always offer this: Enjoy your child. Revel in the slowness of his growth because, ironically, it passes faster than you can imagine. I smile in the knowledge that, of course, they cannot possible comply (I remember my first.) The natural excitement and delight of each new milestone is so rewarding for new mothers, and so sweet and sad for the seasoned mom; Baby’s advancing from crawling to walking just means that he is getting older (and so am I) and that he will very soon loose his babyish charms.

All of these feelings were confirmed last night when baby Alyosha fell off of the bed. Now, my children have had their share of head injuries (especially Lise) and I am usually the non-hysterical Mom who just sutures the wounds and comforts them with ease and without fear. I now understand the hell of hysteria. He fell off of a two foot bed onto carpet. Normally, I would have just kept an eye on him, but then he vomited. As I drove him to the emergency room the madness began in me. I started talking to him. Unresponsive, my chest tightened and I began to wonder if he was passing out. I stopped the car, open the door and notice him lying limp in his seat, eyes vacant, mouth hanging open; I was sick with fear. I shook him jarring him awake. Jumping into the car, I continue driving yelling at him from the front seat to keep him awake. Five minutes later, we reached the hospital parking lot and I ran (literally) with him into the hospital. I must have looked distressed because the staff admitted us immediately, ahead of the other parents impatiently waiting with their ailing progeny. By the time the doctor came in, a duration of five minutes, I was a basket case, incapable of answering questions in full sentences and asking him to repeat himself multiple times. A CT Scan was ordered. Finally, after the results showed no bleeding, my sweet boy was sent home. As I approached my car in the dark parking garage, however, I was fully aware of my vulnerability. I who am usually fearless was now a sniveling mess, quickly buckling in my boy and jumping into the car, locking all doors. It’s amazing how fear can cripple one so quickly. Today, I am left with the recollections of last night’s events and know that it is a testimony to my great imperfection. If I had perfect faith I would be just as comfortable in my bed as in that dark parking garage. If my trust in the Lord was sincere, I would have understood that all is in His divine plan. Should Christ call my son home, I should not fear my loss but instead delight in Alyosha’s happiness. Thank you Lord for showing me my weakness and strengthening me that I may accomplish Your will in all things.

Prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola

Take, O Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding and my whole will. Thou hast given me all that I am and all that I possess. I surrender it all to Thee, that Thou mayest dispose of it according to Thy will. Give me but Thy love and Thy grace; these are sufficient for me, and I will have no more to desire.”

As a final note, I feel it only fair to add to all of those un-marinated moms out there that the psychotic events of my life are not always typical. I am aware of many moms who have large families that do not have all of the drama that my life entails. I wish in no way to cause fear in the first time mom nor drive the struggling mother of two to NFP. I try to offer an accurate portrayal of what my life is for the benefit of those struggling. We struggle together in our universal as well as our distinct imperfections.

The Empirical Tyrant

Kitty — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 19:52:20 +0000

Today was the first day of our school year. Because I am a rebel in all things (yes, even my Catholicism) I begin just as all others are finishing. My eldest daughter Katya and I arose early and broke the new bindings of her brand new first grade books. I carefully opened my lesson book where I had her well-thought-out and elaborate plans for first grade. We proceeded quietly and finished before her sisters scurried out of bed. Then, Lise woke up. She tumbled out of bed in one of her moods. Always the romantic, I remained cheerful and optimistic thinking that I could surely cheer her up. I fed her breakfast, sent her sisters off to play quietly in another room and brought out her new books. She was not impressed. I opened her Math and managed to get her through the first lesson (as in, I am holding her hand and circling the answers). The thought did occur to me that perhaps I should just wait until she was in a better mood; but “How could I?!? I’ve written out plans. I must keep to the plans!” I hastily put away the Math book and pulled out Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.

Lesson 1.

Mommy: “Lise”, say “Mmmm”.

Lise: “I not say”.

Mommy: “Lise”, say “Mmmm”.

Lise : “I not say Mmmm!”

Mommy: “Good! Now say Ssss”.

Lise: “I not say.”

Mommy: “Now say ice cream fast”.

Lise : “I NOT SAY!”

Mommy: “Please say ice cream fast. I’ll give you some.”

Lise: “I NOT SAY!!!”… wwwhhhaaammm!!!

(The wham is her head-butting me and busting open my lip.) Needless to say, we finished with school for the day- (maybe the year.) As a good friend of mine remarked: “She must be punishing you for being a rebel. Forget the books and jump in the pool!”

Escape from Alcatraz

Kitty — Fri, 30 May 2008 19:27:25 +0000

Something interesting happened to me today. My Lise locked Katya, Ana, herself and me in her bedroom… without baby Alyosha. He was obliviously playing in the hallway. I calmly went to the bookshelf where the spare key is hidden…and it’s gone. I frantically went to the door and pulled out the nails that hinge the door shut…it won’t budge. I opened the blinds and peered out helplessly waiting to see someone to help me… I knocked urgently at the window and at last see the maintenance man strolling by. I scream at him through the window that I’m locked in a bedroom, (he doesn’t fully understand because the apartment bedrooms don’t have locks) and that my baby is outside. He removed one pane of glass, opened the window and climbed through. He then began the real work of trying to jimmy the lock open. Of course by now my baby is screaming and there’s a crowd (okay three) people outside. Finally, He opened the door. I picked up my baby and Levin (who I had called frantically ten minutes before) walked in. He went straight to the bookshelf and picked up the key from the exact place he told me it would be (the place where I looked); gave me a look and went back to work. Well, I guess it could’ve been worse. At least we were all dressed.
Hopefully I won’t get visit from that nasty little government agency.

(Just a note… we keep the children locked in their bedroom at night because our impulsive little Lise has been known to wake up and leave in the middle of the night. It’s just a precautionary measure to help us rest easy at night. Hey, at least we know that she CAN’T escape!)