Moments of Grace

One of Lucy and Linus' Christmas gifts was a nice, sturdy holy water font to be hung where they can reach it.  We've been practicing making the Sign of the Cross.  I guide Linus' hand, saying "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost... "
I pause for a moment, and with great enthusiasm he says,  "AAMMM."

I think it's pretty much the cutest thing ever.  But then, he's my son, and I think he's pretty much the cutest thing ever.  I might be biased.

Counting my Blessings

Because today has been one of those days, today I will count my blessings.
Tonight I am grateful for:

1.  A husband who, upon coming home and seeing me looking a bit frazzled, says, "I love you."

2.  Two beautiful, healthy children.

3.  The way Linus sees me, and, giggling excitedly, toddle-runs toward me with both arms out to come and get a hug.

4.  Lucy's excitement about drawing an "O."  Her crayon makes two rounds when she does this.

5.  Two little ones who love books and trips to the library.

6.  The way Linus, upon encountering a closed door, reaches up, standing on tiptoe, touches the doorknob and says "Go.  Go."

7.  The fact that the most insistent demand Lucy usually makes is "Read.  A book."

Moments of Grace

How a Baby Prays

Lucy, lately, wants to do everything I do.  When I fold laundry, she wants to fold laundry (she takes an item out of the basket, wads it up, and carefully sets it on the bed).  When I wash dishes, she wants to wash dishes.  When I pray, she imitates me.  She finds a little book, kneels or stands or sits, and babbles in the tone of voice I usually use for reciting the Divine Office.

It had a flash of insight the other day, as she was doing this.  In the Sacrament of Baptism, the intention to "do what the Church does" is sufficient for a nonbeliever to validly perform the Sacrament.  In a similar way does it not stand to reason that the prayers of a toddler "doing what Mommy does" would be acceptable to God?

Just a thought for Moments of Grace this week.

Going Back to Fix

I have played piano from the time I was a very little girl, and my grandmother was my piano teacher.  "Don't go back to fix!" my grandmother told me over and over.  "Don't go back to fix!" my mother would call from the other room as I was practicing.  Like many other beginning musicians, when I made a mistake I would stop and search for the right note instead of going on.  This destroys all sense of the rhythm of the music and makes the error more obvious.

I have been thinking about doing things at the right time lately, and I may have discovered the reason my efforts to make a schedule for myself have failed.  I "go back to fix."  If for one reason or another, I haven't done something at its proper time, I try to rush and do it now, before the thing I ought to do now.  This destroys the rhythm of the day, and makes me feel rushed and frustrated.  The last couple days I made a decision that, if I discovered that I had missed something on my schedule, then I would go on with what I should be doing now and pick up the missed thing if I had some extra time later.

The schedule (since someone will ask) consists of the hours of the Divine Office, everyone's mealtimes (of which there are many), laundry, dishes, other necessary chores, exercise for me, naptime, and some time for the little ones to have Mama's undivided attention.  I'm still tweaking things a little bit -- I'm trying to figure out when to feed Linus so that he's hungry enough to eat, but not crying for his next meal.  The last couple days have been very peaceful, and seemed to fly by.

Linking up with Moments of Grace at Suscipio

How to Reboot the Morning

The night wakings last night tested the limits of my patience and physical endurance, and I got up to two cranky babies who wouldn't eat breakfast.  We went through the morning tasks:  changed diapers, got dressed, eventually ate breakfast.  But I was still feeling tired, cross, and crabby.  After I heard myself snap at each of them in turn, I took a deep breath and said, "Let's go into the other room, say some prayers, and see if we can reboot the morning."

I said the Guardian Angel prayer, a morning offering, and then began Lauds.  By some miracle, Lucy and Linus both played happily nearby.  When I got to the antiphon for Psalm 50, I stopped and stared.

"With a generous spirit strengthen me, O God."
Yes, God.  That is what I need.  Give me strength and generosity
to get through the day.

I can't say the rest of the day was perfect, but it was better.  I was still tired, and my nerves were still a bit raw, but I regained my equilibrium and my purpose.

Of course, I'm also praying for babies who sleep tonight ...

Moments of Grace

A Happy Bath

 Lucy recently discovered Curious George.  I checked it out from the library, and we read it about eighty-seven times, so I pulled out a couple of books I had as a child about Curious George.

 

Curious George rides a bike has become an instant favorite book.  We read it several times a day.  Like many toddlers, Lucy sometimes has difficulty transitioning between activities (read:  big-tears, screaming, falling-on-the-floor tantrums), particularly the transition from whatever she's been doing to bath-time.

Last night, about five minutes before bathtime, I heard her father reading this book.  It includes illustrated instructions for making paper boats, just like George.  I made a couple paper boats from scrap paper, and Lucy went very excitedly to go try floating them in the bath.

Sadly, one of the boats tore in the bath.  I quickly made a deal with Lucy that if she would get out of the bath and go put a diaper and pajamas on, then I would make her a new boat.  So we managed another smooth transition, with Lucy happily chatting about a "new boat" all the while.

I am so grateful for a peaceful bedtime with Lucy.

Moments of Grace at Suscipio