In our yard, there are three wild rabbits. My kids keep trying to run out the door and catch them. One created a trap using a bin and a carrot as bait and spent the whole morning watching, hoping the bunny would bite. He got bored before any long eared rodents got curious.
Now the kids know I've caught a bunny for a pet, they've heard the story.
So this evening, after dinner, the kids were loud. To get a bit of a break, I took out the trash. The smallest rabbit spied me while feeding on some clover and froze. Not wanting to scare it, I sat on the driveway for a time, watching the fireflies and the moon, taking in the air now that it wasn't as humid or hot. The bunny didn't move. I didn't either. We regarded each other for about fifteen minutes.
When I got up to leave, the rabbit resumed its feed, but it wasn't scared. I walked within three feet of it, before going back into the house.
Next time the kids are racing about the home making a ruckus, I'm going to tell them the secret of catching a pet rabbit.
You have to go outside and sit very still and very silent for at least, fifteen minutes. Maybe I'll make them practice inside, before letting them test it with the real thing.
Showing posts with label rabbits. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rabbits. Show all posts
Monday, July 20, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Rabbit Questions
"God gives you means to be responsible. Some think that — excuse the language — that in order to be good Catholics, we have to be like rabbits. No. Responsible parenthood. This is clear and that is why in the Church there are marriage groups, there are experts in this matter, there are pastors, one can search; and I know so many ways that are licit and that have helped this." --Pope Francis
Like Simcha Fisher, I don't tend to get worked up over the Pope's words off the cuff, I presume the Pope was trying to make a distinction; it didn't quite work as the Catholic internet exploded. Rabbits, Rabbits, Rabbits, Rabbits. Most seemed to understand the Pope's comments to be about how we're not merely creatures, we're not merely breeders, we're supposed to be open to life, but the demand isn't for every family to be the same. I thought I'd ignore the great lupine battle of our time, but it kept popping up in all the places I frequent.
So I read the full text of the Pope's interview.
I paused when he talked about a woman expecting her eighth, and having had multiple c-sections "tempting" God. My brain started churning on things, on questions I'd pose to Pope Francis, if I had the luxury of time to just talk with him about this sort of thing.
Because these are the sorts of questions that don't come up in NFP classes or pretty much anywhere.
People who follow the teaching of the church have limited licit options if they are married; abstinence, NFP, and other charting methods for monitoring fertility. Even being open to life, those practicing NFP occasionally misread, misinterpret, or in the moment, ignore or forget when it is a fertile time in the cycle. These misreads or missteps or errors in judgment about when it is a fertile or infertile time to engage in licit sex can lead to children.
At that moment, the woman and man, if they follow the church, must accept the gift from God of the new person's existence. It happens. It happens often. It is part of why much of the world has rejected NFP, because they don't want to have to rely on their own wills to limit family size. It's not fool proof, and love often makes us fools. Having done NFP for now going on 18 years, I can say, it's 90% successful, but we still have ten kids from that 10%.
It's not that we wanted to have a big family, we were simply welcoming when we received the gift of children, (sometimes more gracefully than other times), but they're all wonderful, they're all miracles. They each teach us different lessons, and together, they keep driving us deeper into communion with God, and each other.
If the family is the domestic church, then we simply have a bigger parish than most but each parish is designed to bring all of its members to Christ. Were we tempting God by being open to life? If we were, it was unintentional, in that neither my husband nor I thought, forget my health issues, let's have a van full of kids!
Perhaps a better way of approaching this subject would have been to teach in the Marriage Preparation course and the Confirmation course about the discernment process itself. Perhaps we should be reminded that as adult married Catholics that we're required to be fully integrated in our faith, to attempt to align our faith with reason and desire, and that it might require sacrifice. Sometimes, even great sacrifice.
But what is that sacrifice? And how do we know if it is God's will?
The big question broke down into these smaller ones.
1) Since all children are gifts from God, all souls are intended. While that doesn't mean "breed like rabbits," it does mean, accept what you receive, cooperate with God's will (being open to life). If we accept these two things as truth, isn't what your family size is as result, theoretically whether you engaged in a rigorous cost/analysis of your family life or not, God's will?
2) How does one discern "tempting" versus "trusting?" I say that not because I want to be a jerk. Being open to life does not mean you must have children, only that you must be welcoming to children. What circumstances or moral judgment makes the act of being willing to have children "tempting God?"
3) The third question stems from some of the conversations spawned by discussion of the Pope's remarks. Whenever the subject of big families come up, there are comments about the down side of having many children. Stories of children in large families feeling neglected or of kids leaving the faith because the life of their parents seemed too hard, or tales of the children becoming estranged because they didn't get enough attention or discipline or love from Mom and Dad, make me worry.
In fairness, I have diaries expressing these very fears dating back to 1997, when we were expecting our third. One of the comforts or consolations I take in the process of parenting this large family, is the belief that God will make this possible even if I've mucked it up, because the only way it is possible, is with God. I know I will muck it up but I also know, God's grace will make this possible despite me.
Which brings me to my third question. What would the Pope would have us do, if we have in the past "tested God" and thus failed, and therefore have more children than we would if we discerned, or what should be expected of those who for whatever reason, do not have discerning temperaments?
One last thing, I love this pope and trust his deep love of this Church, of the whole flock he's been asked to shepherd. I have no problem with him being the Pope, nor is my faith shaken.
It doesn't mean I don't have questions.
Like Simcha Fisher, I don't tend to get worked up over the Pope's words off the cuff, I presume the Pope was trying to make a distinction; it didn't quite work as the Catholic internet exploded. Rabbits, Rabbits, Rabbits, Rabbits. Most seemed to understand the Pope's comments to be about how we're not merely creatures, we're not merely breeders, we're supposed to be open to life, but the demand isn't for every family to be the same. I thought I'd ignore the great lupine battle of our time, but it kept popping up in all the places I frequent.
So I read the full text of the Pope's interview.
I paused when he talked about a woman expecting her eighth, and having had multiple c-sections "tempting" God. My brain started churning on things, on questions I'd pose to Pope Francis, if I had the luxury of time to just talk with him about this sort of thing.
Because these are the sorts of questions that don't come up in NFP classes or pretty much anywhere.
People who follow the teaching of the church have limited licit options if they are married; abstinence, NFP, and other charting methods for monitoring fertility. Even being open to life, those practicing NFP occasionally misread, misinterpret, or in the moment, ignore or forget when it is a fertile time in the cycle. These misreads or missteps or errors in judgment about when it is a fertile or infertile time to engage in licit sex can lead to children.
At that moment, the woman and man, if they follow the church, must accept the gift from God of the new person's existence. It happens. It happens often. It is part of why much of the world has rejected NFP, because they don't want to have to rely on their own wills to limit family size. It's not fool proof, and love often makes us fools. Having done NFP for now going on 18 years, I can say, it's 90% successful, but we still have ten kids from that 10%.
It's not that we wanted to have a big family, we were simply welcoming when we received the gift of children, (sometimes more gracefully than other times), but they're all wonderful, they're all miracles. They each teach us different lessons, and together, they keep driving us deeper into communion with God, and each other.
If the family is the domestic church, then we simply have a bigger parish than most but each parish is designed to bring all of its members to Christ. Were we tempting God by being open to life? If we were, it was unintentional, in that neither my husband nor I thought, forget my health issues, let's have a van full of kids!
Perhaps a better way of approaching this subject would have been to teach in the Marriage Preparation course and the Confirmation course about the discernment process itself. Perhaps we should be reminded that as adult married Catholics that we're required to be fully integrated in our faith, to attempt to align our faith with reason and desire, and that it might require sacrifice. Sometimes, even great sacrifice.
But what is that sacrifice? And how do we know if it is God's will?
The big question broke down into these smaller ones.
1) Since all children are gifts from God, all souls are intended. While that doesn't mean "breed like rabbits," it does mean, accept what you receive, cooperate with God's will (being open to life). If we accept these two things as truth, isn't what your family size is as result, theoretically whether you engaged in a rigorous cost/analysis of your family life or not, God's will?
2) How does one discern "tempting" versus "trusting?" I say that not because I want to be a jerk. Being open to life does not mean you must have children, only that you must be welcoming to children. What circumstances or moral judgment makes the act of being willing to have children "tempting God?"
3) The third question stems from some of the conversations spawned by discussion of the Pope's remarks. Whenever the subject of big families come up, there are comments about the down side of having many children. Stories of children in large families feeling neglected or of kids leaving the faith because the life of their parents seemed too hard, or tales of the children becoming estranged because they didn't get enough attention or discipline or love from Mom and Dad, make me worry.
In fairness, I have diaries expressing these very fears dating back to 1997, when we were expecting our third. One of the comforts or consolations I take in the process of parenting this large family, is the belief that God will make this possible even if I've mucked it up, because the only way it is possible, is with God. I know I will muck it up but I also know, God's grace will make this possible despite me.
Which brings me to my third question. What would the Pope would have us do, if we have in the past "tested God" and thus failed, and therefore have more children than we would if we discerned, or what should be expected of those who for whatever reason, do not have discerning temperaments?
One last thing, I love this pope and trust his deep love of this Church, of the whole flock he's been asked to shepherd. I have no problem with him being the Pope, nor is my faith shaken.
It doesn't mean I don't have questions.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Spambot Saturday 4/22/09 Offering
The Scrutiny of Jelly Beans
This year, the real Easter egg hunt began before April 12th, as shoppers scoured the local pharmacies, grocery stores and bulk warehouses for what have apparently become the latest scarce commodity in these economic hard times; jelly beans. Now normally, no one cares one wit about these rainbow colored sugar gel confections. Oh sure, they enjoyed popularity under President Reagan when Jelly Bellies were all the rage and a brief renaissance via Harry Potter’s Every Flavor Beans, but ultimately, they remain the third stringer in the candy world of Easter baskets.
This year, there weren’t any to be found despite multiple stops. I know it wasn’t just me, as I heard several other parents asking the store staff and calling out, as if they needed to summon these candies by name. Jelly beans were missing. The parents looked lost as they gazed at row after unhelpful row of pure chocolate candies. Jelly beans allowed one to stomach giving one’s offspring as much candy as Easter baskets provide without feeling totally indulgent. They’d get candy but one could be sure, they wouldn’t eat all of it. One adult summed it up perfectly, “No jelly beans…How could it be Easter?”
Leaving aside the lack of theological connections between rainbow colored peanut shaped licorice and the salvation of all our souls, I had to agree.
Those little colored jewels are life savers for when it’s ten o’clock at night and frankly, the Energizer Easter bunny needs a nap. Pour those suckers into the plastic eggies and boom, you’re done. Even better, they come in bulk, and thus multiple eggs can be filled in a short period of time. This is why the rabbit invented jelly beans. He had to get around the world in one night with no elves, no reindeer, he was both the UPS delivery guy and the truck itself. The poor creature needed to streamline if he was going to get to everyone.
Now I know perfectly well why those classic candies aren’t in the stores or on the shelves. It’s a conspiracy and I blame the children. While all kids love finding the eggs, jelly beans rank somewhere above lima beans but not by much. They’d stashed the bags somewhere behind tax software so that parents wouldn’t find them or be in a buying mood when they saw them. I went through the alternatives in my head. We could still fill the eggs.
Some would have money. Some could have chocolate or even malted milk eggs and Cadbury crèmes. I saw bubble gum eggs for sale, but consider that too adventurous. There may be parents out there who don’t mind cutting a lot of hair after Sunday mass, but I am not one of them. I was pining for the beans myself, not for eating mind you, I wanted my filler. But the absence of them made me recognize the reality of the life of a jelly bean.
Check any Easter basket two days post Sunday. You’ll find the foil remains of the bunny and no small number of wrappers from the malt, chocolate and marshmallow eggs. Beneath the green stringy grass, lurks at least a quarter cup of jelly beans of all assorted flavors.
Then, the sorting begins.
Three days after Easter, the yellow, red and pink ones have disappeared. By day five, the need for a sugar fix is still insufficient temptation to venture a bite at those black ones, though the purple, green and orange ones have all been sampled. Eventually, experimentation takes the place of voluntary eating, with jelly bean tooth pick statues, microwaved beans and dissected candy being amongst the most memorable alternatives.
As I lamented the loss of this bulk content piece from the children’s Easter baskets, there was a run in the store on marshmallow peeps. As I grabbed one of the last six packs of yellow chicks, a fellow mother had her hand on the bag. There was a brief tug-a-war, but I surrendered when she said, “Let my Peeple go.” It's Easter and you have to let these sort of things pass over.
Happy Easter Everyone!
This year, the real Easter egg hunt began before April 12th, as shoppers scoured the local pharmacies, grocery stores and bulk warehouses for what have apparently become the latest scarce commodity in these economic hard times; jelly beans. Now normally, no one cares one wit about these rainbow colored sugar gel confections. Oh sure, they enjoyed popularity under President Reagan when Jelly Bellies were all the rage and a brief renaissance via Harry Potter’s Every Flavor Beans, but ultimately, they remain the third stringer in the candy world of Easter baskets.
This year, there weren’t any to be found despite multiple stops. I know it wasn’t just me, as I heard several other parents asking the store staff and calling out, as if they needed to summon these candies by name. Jelly beans were missing. The parents looked lost as they gazed at row after unhelpful row of pure chocolate candies. Jelly beans allowed one to stomach giving one’s offspring as much candy as Easter baskets provide without feeling totally indulgent. They’d get candy but one could be sure, they wouldn’t eat all of it. One adult summed it up perfectly, “No jelly beans…How could it be Easter?”
Leaving aside the lack of theological connections between rainbow colored peanut shaped licorice and the salvation of all our souls, I had to agree.
Those little colored jewels are life savers for when it’s ten o’clock at night and frankly, the Energizer Easter bunny needs a nap. Pour those suckers into the plastic eggies and boom, you’re done. Even better, they come in bulk, and thus multiple eggs can be filled in a short period of time. This is why the rabbit invented jelly beans. He had to get around the world in one night with no elves, no reindeer, he was both the UPS delivery guy and the truck itself. The poor creature needed to streamline if he was going to get to everyone.
Now I know perfectly well why those classic candies aren’t in the stores or on the shelves. It’s a conspiracy and I blame the children. While all kids love finding the eggs, jelly beans rank somewhere above lima beans but not by much. They’d stashed the bags somewhere behind tax software so that parents wouldn’t find them or be in a buying mood when they saw them. I went through the alternatives in my head. We could still fill the eggs.
Some would have money. Some could have chocolate or even malted milk eggs and Cadbury crèmes. I saw bubble gum eggs for sale, but consider that too adventurous. There may be parents out there who don’t mind cutting a lot of hair after Sunday mass, but I am not one of them. I was pining for the beans myself, not for eating mind you, I wanted my filler. But the absence of them made me recognize the reality of the life of a jelly bean.
Check any Easter basket two days post Sunday. You’ll find the foil remains of the bunny and no small number of wrappers from the malt, chocolate and marshmallow eggs. Beneath the green stringy grass, lurks at least a quarter cup of jelly beans of all assorted flavors.
Then, the sorting begins.
Three days after Easter, the yellow, red and pink ones have disappeared. By day five, the need for a sugar fix is still insufficient temptation to venture a bite at those black ones, though the purple, green and orange ones have all been sampled. Eventually, experimentation takes the place of voluntary eating, with jelly bean tooth pick statues, microwaved beans and dissected candy being amongst the most memorable alternatives.
As I lamented the loss of this bulk content piece from the children’s Easter baskets, there was a run in the store on marshmallow peeps. As I grabbed one of the last six packs of yellow chicks, a fellow mother had her hand on the bag. There was a brief tug-a-war, but I surrendered when she said, “Let my Peeple go.” It's Easter and you have to let these sort of things pass over.
Happy Easter Everyone!
Sunday, March 28, 2010
What About....*
Struggling with writer's block, here's a piece from last May.
Conversations with five year olds are always interesting, even when they’re repetitive.
They understand that there is give and take, but never that a specific subject matter has been exhausted. We were at McDonald’s. The circumstance of getting into and out of that particular establishment on this occasion is worth a separate treatment in the blog, but suffice it to say, I’d managed to order and get all three, the 5, 3 and 2 sitting in a booth with the baby and me on the opposite side. Our food arrived and my son took the occasion to notice the warning stickers on the entrance, NO BARE FEET, NO SHIRT NO SERVICE, and NO DOGS ALLOWED.
“Can dogs come in here?”
“No, see the sign? They don’t want fur on the French fries or the chicken nuggets.”
“Or the chocolate milk.”
“Right.”
“Can horses be in the restaurant?”
“Well, they’re a little big don’t you think?”
“What about monkeys?”
“Monkeys? Can you imagine Curious George and his pals in this place? They’d be playing with the soda machine and making a real mess.”
“I guess you’re right. What about….jaguars?”
Maybe it was the hardening of the arteries from the French fries but I was starting to lose steam on fielding these questions. “Um…they’re endangered and prefer the jungle to a fast food franchise?”
“You’re smart Mom.” The two toddlers are nodding in agreement with their brother. I sipped my diet coke. Maybe I could answer a few more questions.
“Monsters!” my daughter pipes up. The other side of the table is collapsing into giggles.
“Monsters? They’d eat up everything. They’d drink all the chocolate shakes! There’d be no fries or burgers or cookies for anyone else.”
“Oh…right. Okay…how about cats?”
“Well, if we let cats in, I think the dogs would get very jealous and then we’d have to let them in and can you imagine this place with cats and dogs inside it? What do you think would happen?”
An elderly gentleman walked by, watching this 20 questions grueling of why an establishment of this fine caliber would be so discriminatory against all God’s creatures, great, small, endangered and imaginary. He gave a little wink. “I think they should let bunnies in young man.”
“I like bunnies. They’re soft and we could catch them.” My son happily agreed. “They should serve carrots with the happy meal so we could feed the rabbits.”
Now, the manager of the restaurant had seen to it that we got to sit and have our food brought to us. I was very grateful given the number of littles I was seeking to corral. She came by at this point, “Can I get you folks anything more?”
“Yes. We want bunnies allowed to eat at McDonald's.” my son explained.
Not missing a beat and earning my eternal love, she responded, "Oh...well, they could but see, they don't have any money."
I'm glad that the world can still bend to the nonsense of a five year old boy. Now I just have to come up with an answer to his follow up question in the car after the meal, "Hey Mom, the rabbits could work for the Easter Bunny! How come you didn't think of it?"
The-thee-the-the-tha-that's all Folks!
Conversations with five year olds are always interesting, even when they’re repetitive.
They understand that there is give and take, but never that a specific subject matter has been exhausted. We were at McDonald’s. The circumstance of getting into and out of that particular establishment on this occasion is worth a separate treatment in the blog, but suffice it to say, I’d managed to order and get all three, the 5, 3 and 2 sitting in a booth with the baby and me on the opposite side. Our food arrived and my son took the occasion to notice the warning stickers on the entrance, NO BARE FEET, NO SHIRT NO SERVICE, and NO DOGS ALLOWED.
“Can dogs come in here?”
“No, see the sign? They don’t want fur on the French fries or the chicken nuggets.”
“Or the chocolate milk.”
“Right.”
“Can horses be in the restaurant?”
“Well, they’re a little big don’t you think?”
“What about monkeys?”
“Monkeys? Can you imagine Curious George and his pals in this place? They’d be playing with the soda machine and making a real mess.”
“I guess you’re right. What about….jaguars?”
Maybe it was the hardening of the arteries from the French fries but I was starting to lose steam on fielding these questions. “Um…they’re endangered and prefer the jungle to a fast food franchise?”
“You’re smart Mom.” The two toddlers are nodding in agreement with their brother. I sipped my diet coke. Maybe I could answer a few more questions.
“Monsters!” my daughter pipes up. The other side of the table is collapsing into giggles.
“Monsters? They’d eat up everything. They’d drink all the chocolate shakes! There’d be no fries or burgers or cookies for anyone else.”
“Oh…right. Okay…how about cats?”
“Well, if we let cats in, I think the dogs would get very jealous and then we’d have to let them in and can you imagine this place with cats and dogs inside it? What do you think would happen?”
An elderly gentleman walked by, watching this 20 questions grueling of why an establishment of this fine caliber would be so discriminatory against all God’s creatures, great, small, endangered and imaginary. He gave a little wink. “I think they should let bunnies in young man.”
“I like bunnies. They’re soft and we could catch them.” My son happily agreed. “They should serve carrots with the happy meal so we could feed the rabbits.”
Now, the manager of the restaurant had seen to it that we got to sit and have our food brought to us. I was very grateful given the number of littles I was seeking to corral. She came by at this point, “Can I get you folks anything more?”
“Yes. We want bunnies allowed to eat at McDonald's.” my son explained.
Not missing a beat and earning my eternal love, she responded, "Oh...well, they could but see, they don't have any money."
I'm glad that the world can still bend to the nonsense of a five year old boy. Now I just have to come up with an answer to his follow up question in the car after the meal, "Hey Mom, the rabbits could work for the Easter Bunny! How come you didn't think of it?"
The-thee-the-the-tha-that's all Folks!
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