To the friend who asked me to pray for her to "get her spark back!"
This song always makes me happy. We have "dance party" at my house with my 3 girls whenever this song appears on the radio. I think it's perfect for you!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
The Best and the Worse of City Living
Today was my first "ZUMBA" class at my new gym.* Picture 80 elderly Asian ladies and Miss Abigail sweating out Latin Dance Moves to Indian Techno music. (Who else is home at 12:30 PM in my neighborhood except for the Asian grandmothers and the solo stay-at-home Mom, right?) The class was super fun!
There was even one 50 year old Mom there with her teenage daughter. It's moments like this where the reality that I now have 3 daughters starts to sink in. I watch that mother/daughter couple with such joy. I can't wait to be doing ZUMBA workouts with my girls.
As much as I loved the class, I'm not sure I'll be back. The daytime child care arrangements at the gym left a lot to be desired. At night, the gym daycare is staffed with the sweetest group of happy teenagers. This is every one's dream high school job. The staff seems like they are having so much fun and all really adore kids.
The atmosphere in the daytime was a completely different vibe. The morning shift was all adult women and each one was so sad and so stressed. Tess had one on one care with a lady in the infant room, but the look on this lady's face was so "dead" and "depressed." I don't judge these women because caring for kids is rough and everyone has a rotten day. I just felt very uncomfortable leaving my tiny baby in that environment.
Worried about Baby Tess, I ended up leaving my class 20 minutes early. She gave me such a big smile when she saw me. My other kids, who were entertained running around on all the cool gym equipment were so bummed. "Do we have to go home so soon!"
I'm really, really blessed to be a stay-at-home Mom who only hands off her children occasionally to people who always say "What a beautiful Baby, bring her here!" Instead of "Hasn't she eaten yet?. . . (sigh)." Today's experience really reminded me today that "choosing" to not to work isn't about depriving my kids of fun ice-skating lessons and cute Gymboree clothes. Its about making sure that the only who is ever grumpy around them is me-- the Mama who shares 50% of their DNA.
*(By the way, Miss Betty Beguiles. A recent immigrant in my class had the cutest modest workout clothes--black yoga pants with a little skirt. It totally beat my own stab at modest coverage for the post-partum Mom, alo pants (the organic cotton line from Nike, I think.) I want what she has!)
There was even one 50 year old Mom there with her teenage daughter. It's moments like this where the reality that I now have 3 daughters starts to sink in. I watch that mother/daughter couple with such joy. I can't wait to be doing ZUMBA workouts with my girls.
As much as I loved the class, I'm not sure I'll be back. The daytime child care arrangements at the gym left a lot to be desired. At night, the gym daycare is staffed with the sweetest group of happy teenagers. This is every one's dream high school job. The staff seems like they are having so much fun and all really adore kids.
The atmosphere in the daytime was a completely different vibe. The morning shift was all adult women and each one was so sad and so stressed. Tess had one on one care with a lady in the infant room, but the look on this lady's face was so "dead" and "depressed." I don't judge these women because caring for kids is rough and everyone has a rotten day. I just felt very uncomfortable leaving my tiny baby in that environment.
Worried about Baby Tess, I ended up leaving my class 20 minutes early. She gave me such a big smile when she saw me. My other kids, who were entertained running around on all the cool gym equipment were so bummed. "Do we have to go home so soon!"
I'm really, really blessed to be a stay-at-home Mom who only hands off her children occasionally to people who always say "What a beautiful Baby, bring her here!" Instead of "Hasn't she eaten yet?. . . (sigh)." Today's experience really reminded me today that "choosing" to not to work isn't about depriving my kids of fun ice-skating lessons and cute Gymboree clothes. Its about making sure that the only who is ever grumpy around them is me-- the Mama who shares 50% of their DNA.
*(By the way, Miss Betty Beguiles. A recent immigrant in my class had the cutest modest workout clothes--black yoga pants with a little skirt. It totally beat my own stab at modest coverage for the post-partum Mom, alo pants (the organic cotton line from Nike, I think.) I want what she has!)
Prayer WORKS!
I just got an email update from a blog reader from the U.K. Sarah had baby Noah on December 23rd and this bouncing baby boy is already home from the NICU!
A special thank you to everyone who prayed for her to have a safe emergency c-section over the Advent season.
A special thank you to everyone who prayed for her to have a safe emergency c-section over the Advent season.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Happy St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Day!
This Saint was a Protestant Convert, a mother of 5, a home-school teacher (to her orphaned nieces) and she lived in a small town near my house. I love her!
Monday, January 3, 2011
Turning Into Sporty Spice, Part II
This is day two of my new exercise routine--Wow!
First, I've got to explain before this week I would have labeled myself as absolutely allergic to exercise. My experiences as a cross-country runner in High School were not good. I believed the world was divided between "jocks" and "bookworms." I firmly planted myself in the second category.
So tonight was a total surprise. I enjoyed myself! I left the house at the grossest part of the day for me (6 PM), dropped off 4 happy kids to the kiddie gym playground and then had almost an hour of rare time alone with my husband.
I did 20 minutes on the cross-country skiing machine, 10 minutes on the rowing machine and lifted (teeny tiny) weights. At the end of my 45 minute exercise routine, my boy bought me a strawberry "recovery shake" at the gym smoothie bar.
My virtue I'm working on in 2011 is "fortitude". That skiing machine was rough. Every time I'd start to fade a bit, my husband would cheer me on with the chant "Fortitude! Fortitude!"
The rest of the time I got to hear about my husband's day in real time. (Usually, we only get to talk after all the kids hit the hay at 9:30 PM.)
Life with God is nothing but surprises. Finding a new way to visit with my best friend everyday is a good one!
First, I've got to explain before this week I would have labeled myself as absolutely allergic to exercise. My experiences as a cross-country runner in High School were not good. I believed the world was divided between "jocks" and "bookworms." I firmly planted myself in the second category.
So tonight was a total surprise. I enjoyed myself! I left the house at the grossest part of the day for me (6 PM), dropped off 4 happy kids to the kiddie gym playground and then had almost an hour of rare time alone with my husband.
I did 20 minutes on the cross-country skiing machine, 10 minutes on the rowing machine and lifted (teeny tiny) weights. At the end of my 45 minute exercise routine, my boy bought me a strawberry "recovery shake" at the gym smoothie bar.
My virtue I'm working on in 2011 is "fortitude". That skiing machine was rough. Every time I'd start to fade a bit, my husband would cheer me on with the chant "Fortitude! Fortitude!"
The rest of the time I got to hear about my husband's day in real time. (Usually, we only get to talk after all the kids hit the hay at 9:30 PM.)
Life with God is nothing but surprises. Finding a new way to visit with my best friend everyday is a good one!
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Feeling the Itchy Straw on Your Back
This Advent season I really meditated on the image of the baby Jesus in the manager. Not the sweet plastic image slapped on a Greeting Card--but that real manager.
Itchy Straw.
Cow Slobber.
The smell of donkey dung in the air.
My question for Mommy Mary at the start of Advent is "Why did you put your baby down in a manager?"
Because I have a newborn, and the urge to protect her is pretty strong.
Mary could have just held the Baby Jesus in her arms immediately after his birth. That's the place where most newborns normally want to be. Jesus could have just come out in his special way, nursed, and they fallen asleep in that warm nook between his mother's chin and her round shoulder. That cozy place is Baby Tessy's favorite spot to nap.
Instead, Our Lady put her newborn son down.
In a real manager.
The one filled with itchy straw and cow slobber and odd donkey germs.
This newborn was not ordinary. Christ was divine. He came to earth for a purpose. To suffer greatly for love. He got down to work moments after birth starting with a strong preference to itchy straw rather than the smooth skin of his mother's neck.
Mary was a real person. Filled with grace. She somehow got Christ's mission. Against all her natural instincts she laid that newborn in the straw. Then she prayed beside his poor uncomfortable bed in wonder and awe.
This Fall, my newborn Tess spent 3 weeks recovering from her near death in the NICU of one of the world's best hospitals for Children.
Tess endured countless needle pokes from IVs and blood draws. I never thought of those needle pokes as itchy straw during her NICU stay. I'm not "More Like Mary" yet. I flinched at each and every poke Tessy received. I never shrugged off an opportunity to hug my baby girl in some intimate kangaroo care.
I hope that next time a kid of mine is in tears, or pain, or emotional suffering--I can be just a tad more holy in my reaction. I don't have to understand suffering. I don't have to like it. But I do need to realize that redemptive suffering is a great mystery that even tiny infants participate in to bring more love into our broken, cold world.
Itchy Straw.
Cow Slobber.
The smell of donkey dung in the air.
My question for Mommy Mary at the start of Advent is "Why did you put your baby down in a manager?"
Because I have a newborn, and the urge to protect her is pretty strong.
Mary could have just held the Baby Jesus in her arms immediately after his birth. That's the place where most newborns normally want to be. Jesus could have just come out in his special way, nursed, and they fallen asleep in that warm nook between his mother's chin and her round shoulder. That cozy place is Baby Tessy's favorite spot to nap.
Instead, Our Lady put her newborn son down.
In a real manager.
The one filled with itchy straw and cow slobber and odd donkey germs.
This newborn was not ordinary. Christ was divine. He came to earth for a purpose. To suffer greatly for love. He got down to work moments after birth starting with a strong preference to itchy straw rather than the smooth skin of his mother's neck.
Mary was a real person. Filled with grace. She somehow got Christ's mission. Against all her natural instincts she laid that newborn in the straw. Then she prayed beside his poor uncomfortable bed in wonder and awe.
This Fall, my newborn Tess spent 3 weeks recovering from her near death in the NICU of one of the world's best hospitals for Children.
Tess endured countless needle pokes from IVs and blood draws. I never thought of those needle pokes as itchy straw during her NICU stay. I'm not "More Like Mary" yet. I flinched at each and every poke Tessy received. I never shrugged off an opportunity to hug my baby girl in some intimate kangaroo care.
I hope that next time a kid of mine is in tears, or pain, or emotional suffering--I can be just a tad more holy in my reaction. I don't have to understand suffering. I don't have to like it. But I do need to realize that redemptive suffering is a great mystery that even tiny infants participate in to bring more love into our broken, cold world.
The Gospel According to Mimi
Me: Today is a special day for the Wiseman. Can you see them bringing gifts to Baby Jesus up there? Do you remember what gifts they gave?
Mimi: Chocolate?
Mimi: Chocolate?
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