"Pondered All These Things In Her Heart" (Embrace the Ordinary vol. 21??)

It has been so long since I've joined Gina for week of Embrace the Ordinary.  But I'm living my ordinary life every day here, so I might as well celebrate it with a blog post :)

There was a time a few months ago when I stepped away from Facebook for two or three weeks.  I only checked it occasionally, and commented on friends posts and photos, but I didn't post anything myself.  

The things I usually post are the silly things my kids say, the exasperating things that they do, the milestones they reach.  I remember a day when Clare said something out-of-this-world cute, and my first thought was, "I'm putting that on Facebook."  I was about to do it right away but stopped.  When did it become a need in me to remind the world how adorable three year olds are?  And my three year old in particular?  

Why was I so compelled to convince everyone how funny, wonderful, cute, etc... my children are?  Isn't the most important thing that I embrace those things?   The quiet moments at home  - when they flub a word, fall on their bum, or put pencils in the freezer to see what will happen - those don't have to be for everyone.  Those sweet moments, the silly faces, the baby's first words, the bear hugs and tender kisses, the hysterical things they say ----- they're for me.  

I thought immediately of Mary when at the Presentation of our Lord, heard the the words of Simeon and "pondered all these things in her heart."  I spent the next few weeks trying to let go of my need to "share" all the Facebook-worthy childhood moments and instead "ponder them in my heart."  

After a few weeks of intentionally keeping the sweet moments for myself, I started to feel like I held a secret treasure deep in my mother's heart.  I had a renewed appreciation for my children and all their antics and all the life and love and joy and craziness they bring to our home - and it wasn't measured by the number of Facebook "likes."  It was a fullness of my heart and a spirit of gratitude for the gifts that my children are to me.  

So... in a funny twist whereby I end this post about "keeping things to myself" and "pondering them all in my heart," I share with you two sweet moments that happened during those few weeks.  These little videos are perfectly representative of the type of moments that I've been holding dear.   I'm sharing these with you as a glimpse of the ordinary moments of motherhood I've been embracing.  But I still have a treasure trove of ordinary moments that I'm holding close -- they're just for me to ponder and love <3

I was cooking dinner and stepped out of the kitchen and couldn't find James when I came back in...

The house was a disaster, dinner was taking forever to make, and Clare was just drawing and singing Soon and Very Soon...

Growing Up: the Milestones and the Other Stuff

Today I've been pondering this...  

Our children are growing up every moment of every day.   There are big moments and then there's all the other stuff, and a mother's reactions to "growing up" can really run the gamut. 

We're always on the lookout for the exciting milestones that let us know, she's growing up!  We joyfully let all of Facebook know when our babies give their first smiles and cut their first teeth.  We cheer them on when they roll over for the first time, smack their lips at their first taste of mashed food, and take their first steps.  We love to announce when our little fashionistas start dressing themselves and when our little sluggers join their first team.   Milestones, in my opinion, tend to be a mother's public pride.  Our little ones are growing up and they're doing it well!  There's so much to rejoice in!  

In my experience though, it's never really in the milestones that our baby's growing up hits us between the eyes and catches us off guard.  Every mom knows there are times when you look at your child in the most ordinary of circumstances and wham!  you see them growing up.  It's a look they give, or a word they use, or just an inflection in their voice.  It's something that makes you see them as older than they were just the very minute before.  It's usually something very small.  And it evokes less pride and more pondering.  It even tugs a little at our heartstrings.

My Clare, who is two and half, has been growing up a lot lately.  Both kinds of growing up.  As far as milestones are concerned, she's officially finished toilet training.  Yay!  Yay! Yaaaaayyy!!!  She's been our easiest so far, but that doesn't diminish her accomplishment.  I'm really proud of her!  I praise her a lot and shower her with, "You're getting to be such a big girl!" with true joy and sincerity.  Toilet training is a big deal in the list of things that mean "growing up."  But it's not when I'm helping Clare get her teeny tiny "big girl" underwear back on that I think, Woah.  She's growing up fast!

The big things don't catch me off guard.  

Today I witnessed the other kind of growing up - one of those moments that comes seemingly out of nowhere and almost knocks you off your normally unshakable mom feet.  Clare brought a Lego creation to me and said "Look at my decorations." 

I think I stopped breathing for a second and felt a little pain in my heart.  Just a few weeks ago Clare was tirelessly gathering pine cones and sticks and bright fall leaves to bring into our house as decolations.  And we all loved it and would do whatever we could to get her to say the word decolations over and over.   

Today she said, "decorations."  I didn't wonder when I'd be able to get on Facebook and proudly announce her newest accomplishment.  I privately held on to that "growing up" moment and pondered the dichotomy of my reactions to the various ways kids "grow up."  

They're always growing up.

I'm so proud of their accomplishments, both large and small, that are part of maturing.

I love the more complex relationships and interactions and conversations that big kids are capable of.

But a little part of me mourns the loss of the small things that make their littleness special.  

As one is lost, it is replaced by something equally special, but the old "little" ways will never be again.  Clare's decolations are gone.  It's more than just a word.  It's the things that make Clare who she is at age two.  They're being replaced.  And I'm mourning that a little.

(but they're being replaced by the things that will make her wonderful at age three, so I'm rejoicing too!  Kind of beautiful how it works that way, huh?!)  

The Things a Mother's Heart Cannot Do

One afternoon last week I had some alone time with my boys on the back porch.  The girls were still napping, James was on my lap and the bigger boys were next to us slurking on popsicles.  I squeezed James' legs (legs that are trying to be pudgy, but he's just not a roly poly baby...)  and made a casual comment about how much I love this cute kid.  

It sparked a conversation we've had before.  

"Mom, could you just think real hard and tell us which of us was the cutest baby?"  Dominic asked.

"No, I can't do that."  

They pestered me for just a little longer.  I smiled, but was adamant.  "No.  A mother's heart can't do that.   To a mom, all of her babies are the most beautiful baby she's ever seen.  They are all the sweetest thing she's ever held, the most perfect person she's ever gazed upon, the most amazing gift she's ever been given.  It doesn't sound like it makes sense, but it's just the way a mother's heart works.  A mom's heart can't choose a cutest.  God made it so that a mother's heart knows each of her babies is the cutest."

"Is that the same reason moms don't have a favorite kid?"  

"Yep.  A mom can't choose a favorite.  Each child she has is her favorite.  It's hard to explain, but that's how God made mothers - they can have more than one favorite.  They can have as many favorite children as they have children.  You're all my favorites."

Aaron continued, but Aaron doesn't ask questions.  He states things.  "That's why you love us all the same."

"I love all you guys with all of my love.  It's kind of a miracle that a mom doesn't have to divide up her love between her children.  A mother's heart can't be divided.  She's able to give all of her love to all of her kids."  

Aaron ended our profound conversation, "Yeah, I know.  That's why you are nervous when we do scary stuff, even though we don't think it's scary.   Like climbing trees.  You can't watch the kids that have all your love do scary things in case they get hurt."  

Yep.  

The deep thoughts part of the afternoon was over, but I thought about it again after everyone was in bed.  My mother's heart is still young and it has not yet had to withstand much suffering, but I've mulled over a few thoughts.  A mother's heart is a fierce and fragile thing.  It's big enough and strong enough to give and give and love and love, but it cannot protect her children from every hurt and every struggle - from falling from trees to the most crippling of sins.  It can ache  just to imagine the danger a child may encounter.  A mother's formidable heart is made vulnerable with the knowledge that her children are not immune to sorrow and suffering.  Her heart, though granted the miraculous ability to have multiple favorites, and to lavish 100% of her love on each of her offspring, still cannot guarantee that those same children will always reciprocate that love, live as one worthy of her favoritism, or stay close to that heart that beats so fiercely for each of them.  Her heart knows that her children may make mistake after mistake, be weighed down by sin, stray from their faith, struggle under burdens that she cannot lift.  

(It sounds an awful lot like our Heavenly Father's relationship with each of us, his children, doesn't it?  But that's a lot bigger than I was intending to get into here!)  It also reminds me of St. Monica - a holy mother who, like every mother, could not guarantee that her own son would remain whole and holy.  (Her feast day is coming up, and incidentally, it's the anniversary of the day Russ proposed to me ten years ago!)  St. Monica did not quit, and her prayers and sacrifices for her son, in cooperation with the divine will of God, brought St. Augustine into life with Christ and into the life of the Church for all of us.   Amid struggle, sin, and suffering, her heart was stretched and strained, but she never gave up on her child.  And that's something else a mother's heart can never do.   

Can't pick a cutest.  Can't pick a favorite.  Can't divide my love but each kiddo can still have it all.  Can't give up on the ones that have been given to me.  But I can call it quits on the tree climbing when they're just high enough that my mother's heart starts to quicken.  Cause even though there's a lot I can't do, I'm still in charge =)

St. Monica, pray for us.

Prayer With an Open Door Policy (or Small Ways for Busy Moms to Pray Throughout the Day)

Pray without ceasing.

1 Thessalonians 5:17

When you pray, go into your room and shut the door, 

and pray to your Father who is in secret.

Matthew 6:6

Lately I've been trying to refresh my prayer life, to pray without ceasing.  But, go into your room and shut the door???  Do you have any idea what can happen in the moment's time it takes for a mother to go into her room and shut the door? The most likely outcome of the mother-going-into-her-room-and-shutting-the-door scenario is that the police arrive very soon afterward presumably because the neighbors called when they witnessed your two-year- old exit your home through the clothes dryer vent and head down the block with very few clothes on (however she had a ukulele strapped to her back, a coonskin cap on her head, and a kitchen whisk in hand...) You get the idea.  I know Jesus loved the little children, but he didn't have any of his own.  Clearly.  I think it very likely that when Christ gave these instructions on prayer it was one of those times when he spoke before thinking.*  Well, he at least wasn't thinking through the implications it would have on a mother's life. 
  

But anyway, here we have a busy mother who wants to refresh her prayer life, to "pray without ceasing" so as to move throughout the day more fully in the presence of God. My life these days doesn't allow for extended silent meditation, thought-provoking philosophical and spiritual reading, uninterrupted hours in front of the Blessed Sacrament, or 20-decade rosaries.  (tip: If you long for the prayer life of the monastics, don't have children.) The closed-door prayer marathon isn't realistic, but I realistically can't get through my day without His grace.  So I'm keeping it simple and am trusting that my simple prayers will yield graces sufficient for my vocation.  The door is open for Him to work.  Perhaps you're busy also, but like me, need the strength, focus, and grace of  "prayer without ceasing."  Here's what I've been focusing on... 

Small Ways for This Busy Mom to Pray Throughout the Day:

(no closed doors here, but some of it is secret)

Make a Morning Offering.  It is short.  It is simple. It is my effort to order the rest of the day - to acknowledge the One from whom all good things come and to commit all my best efforts (which are really quite weak) to His service and for His glory.  Said offering is (sadly) often promptly forgotten once my feet hit the floor and I stumble downstairs with only one true thought on my mind.  Coffee.

Read Scripture each morning.  But not a lot of it, lest I retain nothing. (I love the New Testament published by Scepter Publishers that divides the entire New Testament up into approximately 5-minute bits so that you can read it through two times in a year.)  I've been trying to find something in the passage to "take with me" as I go through the day - I'll write it on a sticky note and hang it in the kitchen to re-read and re-focus as the day wears on.  I have to write it down, because I won't remember it throughout the day no matter how convicted I was by it in the morning.  Quiet morning convictions are often lost in the busyness, noise, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches of the day.    

Aspirations (often in the form of prayers in emergency situations).  This form of prayer has been so fruitful for me lately, and I believe has prevented many a child-induced spiritual malfunction of my soul.  Let me explain.  There are three prayers I come back to over and over again throughout the day to maintain a calm and pleasant disposition, to beg forgiveness, and to order my efforts:  

For the things that grate on my nerves or try my patience - sibling squabbles, interruptions, pestering, irresponsibility, an entire canister of oatmeal spilled on the floor ceiling fan??? - I toss a Hail Mary heavenward.  It's become my alternative to yelling.  (Well, not all the time.  But that's the idea, anyway...)  I usually don't even get to the end of the prayer before the next big distraction hits.  But the point is I'm not below groveling before Our Lady and begging Mary, Mediatrix of All Graces, to bestow upon me an iota of the Grace with which she was blessed.  Hail Mary, full of grace... would you please ask your Son to give me an extra helping of the same - I long to be more like you and to react graciously and to conduct myself grace-fully in the midst of this blessed mess.  (This is the part that's secret since the child who's expecting a tirade from me, instead sees me starring at him kind of distracted and glassy-eyed.  Little does he know I'm trying to get through as much of a Hail Mary as I can before I respond to him with something that's in between "full of grace" and "tirade.")  

For the times when I slip up and yell at a child, or roll my eyes at the customer "service" I receive at the store, or speak to me husband with an "I'm right, you're wrong at work at all day so you have no idea" attitude, or scoff at... well, any number of ridiculous things - I quickly pray, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.  And there's no lack of evidence which would suggest that I say this one a lot :)  

And for the times when I start to feel burdened and victimized by the very life that I chose (how un-explainable and crazy is that???) - I offer this aspiration over and over and over: All for the greater glory of God.  Laundry and dishes and meals and wiping runny noses, trips to the playground and library and dentist and doctor, reading Harold and the Purple Crayon for the fortieth time, cuddling when I wish I had more personal space, cleaning when I'd rather be crocheting, serving when I'd rather be sleeping - they are the "small realities" that St. Josemaria Escriva was speaking about when he wrote, "the holiness that our Lord demands of you is to be achieved by carrying out with love of God your work and your daily duties, and these will almost always consist of small realities."  (I wrote a little more about this here)  I cheerfully choose these small realities - loving my husband, raising my children, keeping my home.  In doing so, I am radiating Christ and serving the God who saw fit to bless me with this particular life for my own good and for His glory.  

On a good day I'm able to do some spiritual reading during the kids' afternoon nap/quiet time.  My favorite are the meditations from In Conversation With God, (also from Scepter) which follow the Liturgical Year.  Or I manage to fit in a Rosary, or part of one, while I'm exercising or nursing.  For me, the key to increasing the chances that I'll accomplish either one of these is to not make it a priority.  The minute I say, I will say a Rosary every day or I will definitely do spiritual reading at nap time today, is the minute that I fail at that portion of my prayer life.  I know that committing to something and sticking with it is important, and I am not suggesting we make no set commitment to personal prayer.  I just know that for some reason I am much more likely to "sneak" these things into my day when the opportunity arises, and I'm much more likely to be sidetracked and defeated when I've made them non-negotiable, set-in-stone items on my prayer-to-do list.  

Finally, if I'm not too tired at the end of the day - worn thin from attempting to remedy my own shortcomings as well as those of my children from dawn to dusk (and then some, if bedtime goes badly) and/or staying up too late writing long-winded blog posts such as this - I do my best to offer a sincere prayer of thanksgiving.  "Every good and perfect gift comes from You.  I am so unworthy of the many you have bestowed on me.  I'm forever grateful.  And I'm going to bed now, so I'll catch you again tomorrow, Lord.   I'll be here all day, and I'll leave the door open :)  Amen." 

*  Tongue in cheek ;)

(One final prayer tip - My friend, Mary, whose lovely blog is Better Than Eden, is leading a Novena for husbands.  It begins tomorrow and concludes on the Feast of St. Joseph.  Won't you join Mary, many others, and me in praying for the most important man in your life?  Mary has all the Novena info, so click on over there.  All the prep work is done for you!  It's an easy way to add a little extra to your prayer life and a big way to support your husband!)