Every week my goal is to post my quick takes late Thursday evening so I can link up to Jen’s Conversion Diary early Friday. Since Jen lives in Arizona, where I imagine the weather can’t possibly fluctuate as much as it did in Maryland this week, I am never the first to link up.
That’s fine, of course, since as Leo would point out, the last will be first, and the first will be last.
Instead, my goal is always to be 26, my favorite number, and I’ve managed to hit it on the dot twice. This week I will be lucky to be number 126 or maybe 226, depending on how motivated my fellow bloggers were this week.
Last night was truly a time when the spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak.
Who knew this would be such a Biblical post?
During my Lenten journey, in which I haven’t given anything up or added anything specific, I am just trying to find moments of rest. Last week Lent arrived as a whispering wind during a tornado.
In one of the least dramatic moments my husband called me (just after I had picked the car up from the mechanic) to tell me he had smelled gas in the house. When he said we might have to move out of our house for four days and that the leaks could cost thousands of dollars to fix, I just said, “OK.” I was just grateful that we had found the problem.
Fortunately we were able to get the leaks fixed that day and slept in the house that night. But I just feel that this Lent is bringing its own challenges, which I am trying to accept patiently and gracefully, not always with success.
OK, so we might be doing one little tiny thing for Lent. One night at the end of dinner, I was trying to divert the conversation, and I suggested that we could say a decade of the Rosary.
Everyone wanted to do it. Now almost every night, we each choose a mystery to meditate on and launch into the decade together. Some nights are more successful than others, and some nights we don’t force it. I’d rather have only positive experiences, so when the boys are really tired or not in the right frame of mind, we don’t do it.
We all have our off days.
Still, it has been interesting to see which mysteries Leo chooses, one night it was the Crucifixion, and another night it was the “Crowning of Mary as Queen of Heaven and Earth.” The other night Daniel chose “holy honor,” which Leo was quick to disqualify, but we let him go with it. Who am I to interfere with a 4-year-old’s personal meditation?
I am hoping we can continue praying the Rosary together throughout the Lenten season. We shall see.
How is Lent going for you?
I was writing last night when I heard a noise behind our dining room curtains.
I decided it had to be a bat.
Or a mouse.
Or a bird.
Or a snake.
Whatever was behind the curtains was moving, and I could hear a crackling noise. And it was inside the house. I almost called John to help me, but becoming a parent means you have to be a little braver about things, so I went to check. I couldn’t find anything.
So I went back to writing.
Then I heard a thump, and I crept back to the curtains to check again.
On the floor was this.
Daniel had taped his painting to the window earlier in the evening, and the tape hadn’t been strong enough to hold it.
Whew.
If you haven’t seen this heartwarming story of this young man who surprises the anchorwoman who helped him connect with his forever family, take a few minutes to watch.
Happy Pi Day!
Leo’s school celebrated with all kinds of activities today. When I heard that one of the class moms was making treats for the day, I offered to lend her my parents’ pi plate, a pie plate that is decorated with pi. My friend outdid herself. She made adorable smores pie pops for Leo’s class and placed them in the plate.
Photo by my talented friend
Because I feel like a delinquent kindergarten mom, who can barely remember what to send on which day, I was so proud of myself for finally contributing something.
When Leo came home tonight, I said, “Did your teacher know that it was our pi plate?”
“I told her and then she knew,” he said.
As I smiled and mentally patted myself on the back for making a contribution, at long last, my kindergartener said, “But is it really ours, Mama? Doesn’t it belong to Grandma?”
Sigh.
Thank you, God, for my precise, honest child. He’s going to make a fantastic father of a kindergartener one day. He’ll certainly never forget to send in an apple the day it’s due.
Last weekend we had a taste of spring, so we took the boys to two playgrounds. We even shivered as we ate a picnic on a park bench.
It felt so good to get outside. And our boys seemed to have grown so much since we were last on playgrounds last fall.
We are all excited that spring is coming. It just has to be coming. Right?
Happy almost spring! And have a wonderful St. Patrick’s Day!
Read more quick takes at Jen’s Conversion Diary.