7 Quick Takes Friday

 

 

1. Sorry about the Super Light Blogging. 

 

My daughter has helpfully provided the motivation. 

 

2. How is Your Lent Going?

 

Mine is oddly well.  I know I'm turning to prayer more, that's for certain.  The scary wonderful thing is, I can see the effects.  The kids have always claimed I have an unfair friendship with Saint Anthony. They can cite many examples of things lost that he's found for me almost instantaneously upon request.  My oldest daughter jokes that I have an unpaid internship upon my death answering his calls as restitution for all of his intervention.  I told my daughter she could have a deeper relationship with a particular saint if she sought it.  That day, she and her sister had been at odds.  It was day three of deep dispute.  Both had been lectured. Both were urged to reconcile.  Both refused. 

 

Frustrated at the level of discord in the family, I went to both of them and told them each to pray to Our Lady, Undoer of Knots.  Now I know she has that title, and I even understand that title, but I didn't know the origin, nor did I really know why that particular suggestion came to my mind other than, the Holy Spirit knew what we needed.  Less than an hour later, the two who seemed so set in their grudges, so hard in their hearts, had made a real peace. Thank you Mary, Undoer of Knots.   

 

3.  A Miracle Every Day

 

This morning, my daughter came upstairs more chatty than usual, her heart was light.  "I prayed last night to Saint Joan."  She added.  It's her favorite saint.   She'd prayed it would snow.  As soon as she said it, I saw flakes.  There was a swirl of flakes, surrounding our home.  A cloud had parked right over our house and it was snowing, really snowing but only here.   I quipped, "You know, Saint Joan probably said, "This is not really my forte, I'm not normally associated with cold things."  But it was an answer, and the answer was yes.  It was silly and small and yet joyful.  I'm becoming more and more convinced that if we had our eyes open and our hearts as well, we would see the miraculous in the world every day. 

 

4.  Editing is like purgatory. 

 

All your writing sins are revealed, line by line, word by word.  And you spend the editing process trying to fix all the writing sins, knowing because you do not have eternity, that your penance shall be that whatever you fail to fix, will be read by your friends and family.   I'm suddenly regretting gently ribbing my sons for spell check errors like "The Dairy of Anne Frank" and Jesus visiting the sick leopards, and my daughter for the essay, "Why We Need a Book Club at Saint Martians."  Hey Sherry, how's that Buck ov HELL AND coming?

 

5.   Sin is Like McDonald's.

 

Wish I'd had this insight, it came from my daughter who has a particular weakness for their chicken nuggets and fries.  She explained, "You KNOW it's bad for you. You KNOW it has long term bad effects.  You DON'T want those long term effects.  But it looks good and I'm hungry so I'm eating it now."  Catechism through fast food...who knew?..well, I should have, because eating fish on Fridays at any of those places is penance..but then, I'm stupid enough to have eaten fish on a Friday at one of those places.   

 

6.    Not a Scouting Mom

 

Three of my children are currently in scouting programs.  This is the emotional equivalent of existing for 40 days on Filet-O-Fish for me.  One of my children was in the pine wood derby contest. We didn't go to the workshop so his car looked essentially like a block of wood with wheels.  He made it, he painted it, he thought it was beautiful.  Every kid at these things gets an award.   His award said, "Best Block of Wood."   He was still proud. He did not get the veiled insult/irony.  However, this does not make me love scouting more.   

 

7.    Healthy Eating

 

I have two committed athletes who run or exercise daily. I have two others with massive amounts of misinformation but who are trying their darnedest.  My doctor has requested a food diary.  This too feels like confession, every day I'm having to write something like I confess I ate a bowl of cheese grits, a Wendy's spicy chicken and a free chocolate frosty, the leftover Frito's and washed it down with an extra large diet coke.  I also snagged a peppermint patty at the gas station and ate half a Klondike bar because my daughter was full.  It is not fun.  It does explain why my diet is going nowhere fast. 

 

Fortunately, my children have come to my rescue. There is a contest to fill the food pantry at the school.  Yesterday I discovered as I hefted two unusually heavy backpacks into the car, half our can goods have been donated.  How do I explain charity in moderation to an 8, 7 and 5 year old?  I haven't.  They're too happy giving away my soups and beans and pasta and tuna.   Hopefully their generosity will translate to my sveltness.  

 



Mom is Many Things, Not a Scout

I have tried three times before to be a supportive mother in the arena of scouting. 

And by good, I mean I tracked down a person to sew on the patches the first go around. 

When my first daughter expressed no interest, I breathed a sigh of relief. 

When my second daughter became a daisy, I mooched off the den mothers mercilessly.  Curiously, both families left the school, and with their departure, so ended scouting.

My next son and I declared our mutual indifference.

My next daughter ached to be a daisy but the only way that would happen is if there were a troop master. Was I interested?  I admit, I used pregnancy as an excuse.  It works for most people.  They were annoyed when I tried it. 

Now, we have come to the sixth child. He has patiently put up with being put off on this decision for two cub scout years.  He's smart.  He's done his homework.  My next two daughters can do Daisies at the same time on the same day. Three doing an activity for the price of one errand.  He knows this is a weakness I have.  Plus he's good in school. Plus he does his homework. Plus he pointed out, it's his only outside activity.  (Like I said, he's good). 

Dinner ran a bit late so we were driving to a 7:00 meeting at 7:30. "That's okay Mom, it's on time for us..." my son offered. Oooff.  Ow...must speed up vehicle, defy time stream, eliminate need of son to explain away me. 

So we went to the meeting and I filled out the application. The form said check all that apply and I was doing fine checking no...no...no...when it came to camp chaperon, field trip guide, assistant troop leader...until I got to this one:

I will be a supportive active Cub Scout parent.

"Define Active?" I asked. 
"It means you'll get him to meetings, encourage his participation, aid in his getting badges, be sure he's properly attired."  a veteran scout mother told me.
"How properly?"  I wanted to know, vowing to simply send the shirt to the dry cleaner's every week after the meeting.

Thinking about the obligations and being truthful, I hesitated.  I don't remember this from the first go around.  I'm guessing, they remember last time and are taking steps to make sure my son doesn't have to say, "That's okay...it's you."  come time to be awarded badges.

However, proof that change does not occur overnight no matter what the contract says, tonight was also Daisies....I forgot.