I love being a student wife!
Okay, not all the time. You will find me griping and complaining (usually to myself or Mr. Cat) that the student life is not very conducive to raising 4 children, and it's not. It's tough. It has been crazy, hectic, and difficult in many ways. It is also a huge blessing. God has provided a way for Mr. Cat to follow his "pipe dream" and get his degree in something he is quite passionate about. It has been a point where he has been able to start pretty much from the ground up and re-create himself and his career. I am so grateful he has that opportunity. As he gets closer to a graduation date, he often asks me where I want to go. He asks me this because for now I am following along in his college dream, and for the 12 years prior to this, I followed along wherever the Army sent us. So when he asks me where I want to go, I honestly don't have an answer. I would love some place with 4 seasons. Ultimately, I want to be where God calls us to be, and since I have no definite idea of where that is for now, I just want to be where Mr. Cat is happy.
Being a student wife has also given our family some wonderful opportunities. We live close to campus, and a lot of students live in our apartment complex. Mr. Cat sees friendly faces at home and at school. He is somewhat a novel student, much older than the average student by far, but still able to connect with them due to his Army career spent training soldiers of similar ages. We had the chance to host an African student last year for his very first American Thanksgiving. It was so much fun. We also hosted him in our home for a week between semesters. We learned so much from him, and he holds such a wonderful place in the hearts of our entire family.
I love the fact that Mr. Cat is living out his dream. I love sharing his excitement over new school books (after we both get over the sticker shock, that is), and his stories of the different students he meets. I love hearing about his professors. I love checking over his papers for grammatical errors. I love seeing him so darned happy, and I cannot wait to see where this adventure takes us. So even if it's tough sometimes (okay, most times), I love being a student-wife.
P.S. I also love hearing the girls and Mr. Cat share tales of their school days together.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Friday, October 25, 2013
How do I love my life....let me count the ways - Part 3
I love my apartment! Wait....what?
Not really. I do not love the idea of living in an apartment. I do not love having sometimes noisy neighbors on top of me, behind me, and next to me. I do not love that there is a sidewalk just a matter of feet from my bed, and I do not enjoy listening to peoples loud personal conversations. I do not enjoy not having a yard. I do not enjoy lack of space indoors. I do not enjoy the maze that my oversized-for-an-apartment furniture creates throughout my living space. I do not enjoy the barrage of bumps and bruises that I occur on a near daily basis from bumping into something that is wedged into an awkward space. I do not like not having a yard for my Fiona to run around in, and instead having to take her for walks. I do not enjoy the dog walking area that is a mine field of dog poo. (I truly believe we are the only family in this complex that actually follows the rules and cleans up after our dog!) I do not like having carpeted floors throughout my living space. I miss the pergo of my home, and my pantry, and my kitchen and my...
So, there, I've listed some of the many things I do not like about apartment living. Basically, I do not enjoy apartment living. However, I love my apartment. It isn't a house, but it is my home. It may seem like a step backward from home ownership, but it is where I hang my head, where my heart is, and all of those other cliches. I love that I have the opportunity to live so close to Mr. Cat's school. We have only one vehicle. When we were living with our friends, we were an hour away from campus, and Mr. Cat had to take the van every day, which left me without a vehicle each day. It also meant him spending a minimum of 10 hours on the road each week, just traveling back and forth. I am so lucky that if I want to use the van, I can just drop him off 5 minutes from home. His school is right on the way between our home and church (which it seems we are always going to or coming from). It is perfect. I was so shocked to see an apartment complex out here in farmland, Florida. But here it is. We looked at other complexes, but they would have been further drives, and the car swap thing wouldn't have worked nearly as well. They wouldn't have been convenient to daily Mass either, which is something that is important to our family. Where our apartment is located is just absolutely perfect for our needs. It opened up at a time when we really needed it to, and even though I literally cringed when signing the lease for another year, I am so thankful to be able to live here. It is well-maintained, and I have the comfort that if something breaks or malfunctions, I can just call the office and maintenance will come and repair it, at no additional cost to me. The office staff is nice and friendly, and so are most of the people who live here.
It is so easy to overlook where you live as a blessing. There is the always the: "It could always be worse." "You could be homeless." (been there done that) "You could be forced to live in a place that was unsafe." Yes, those are all true. One thing being an Army wife taught me was that you have to make the best of your circumstances. If you find yourself in a situation that is not ideal, you first have to ask yourself, can you change it. If not, then you have 2 choices. 1) You can complain about your situation on a regular basis, and be miserable constantly, making others in your family miserable as well. or 2) You can choose the relish the good points about your situation, and take the focus off of the negatives. You can be positive as much as possible, you can find little things to add enjoyment, or make your situation bearable. You can fake the funk, or "fake it til you make it" if you have to. There is a lot to be said for the power of positive thinking.
All that being said, it is easy to overlook where you live on a deeper level. I look at the conditions Our Lord was born in. I have a booklet entitled "Praying the Rosary Without Distraction." It has ten points for each mystery to meditate on as you pray. In the Joyful Mysteries, the third, The Nativity, one of the points is: Jesus enters the world in poverty to teach the lesson of detachment from earthly things.
Wow. That really speaks to me. How often have I complained about wanting to live in a nicer area, a bigger house, have land, etc. etc. What I am really saying is that what God has provided me with is not good enough. This is not to say I plan to go sell all my worldly goods and move into the neighboring farms barn. However, this encourages me to look at what I do have, and realize that it is just stuff. Yes, stuff gives us comfort, it can bring us happiness, joy, peace, it can give us lots of good things. But it all comes down to just stuff. If there were to be a fire, and all of my worldly possessions get burned to cinders, would I still be happy? Without a doubt. I would be sad, sure, I would miss things that were treasures, things that I cherish, things that I love. But my true happiness is not given to me by anything of this World. It is like the time our hard drive fried and I lost years and years of pictures of the girls. I broke down crying in the middle of the Apple store when I found out everything was gone. I will not lie, it was heart-wrenching. But it wasn't a life ender. It took my personal emtional happiness away at the moment, but it did not take my eternal happiness away. (Keep in mind, I am not saying it's wrong to be sad, or it's wrong to suffer from depression, or it's wrong to be upset. I am talking about a deeper sense of happiness than the here and now.) When my father died, I was crying about his things, and not having them, or being able to see them anymore. My oldest, then just 4, told me, "It's okay Mommy. You have the important stuff right here." And she laid her chubby little hand on my heart. She was so right.
Stuff. Happiness. Right now, I am wearing a shirt that belonged to my mom. It isn't any style of shirt I would have gone out and chosen for myself. If anyone else gave it to me, I probably would have passed it on. But it was my mom's, and wearing makes me feel close to her. As morose as it might sound, knowing that the fabric that touches my skin once touched her skin gives me so much more comfort than I can describe. Stuff is important, even to mental/emotional health. But stuff is not the end all/be all, which is what most of society tells us these days. My happiness, true happiness, comes from something not of this world. It comes from God, and no earthly person or event can take that away from me if I do not choose to let it.
So, while I don't love living in an apartment, I love living where God has housed me. It is right where I am supposed to be.
Not really. I do not love the idea of living in an apartment. I do not love having sometimes noisy neighbors on top of me, behind me, and next to me. I do not love that there is a sidewalk just a matter of feet from my bed, and I do not enjoy listening to peoples loud personal conversations. I do not enjoy not having a yard. I do not enjoy lack of space indoors. I do not enjoy the maze that my oversized-for-an-apartment furniture creates throughout my living space. I do not enjoy the barrage of bumps and bruises that I occur on a near daily basis from bumping into something that is wedged into an awkward space. I do not like not having a yard for my Fiona to run around in, and instead having to take her for walks. I do not enjoy the dog walking area that is a mine field of dog poo. (I truly believe we are the only family in this complex that actually follows the rules and cleans up after our dog!) I do not like having carpeted floors throughout my living space. I miss the pergo of my home, and my pantry, and my kitchen and my...
So, there, I've listed some of the many things I do not like about apartment living. Basically, I do not enjoy apartment living. However, I love my apartment. It isn't a house, but it is my home. It may seem like a step backward from home ownership, but it is where I hang my head, where my heart is, and all of those other cliches. I love that I have the opportunity to live so close to Mr. Cat's school. We have only one vehicle. When we were living with our friends, we were an hour away from campus, and Mr. Cat had to take the van every day, which left me without a vehicle each day. It also meant him spending a minimum of 10 hours on the road each week, just traveling back and forth. I am so lucky that if I want to use the van, I can just drop him off 5 minutes from home. His school is right on the way between our home and church (which it seems we are always going to or coming from). It is perfect. I was so shocked to see an apartment complex out here in farmland, Florida. But here it is. We looked at other complexes, but they would have been further drives, and the car swap thing wouldn't have worked nearly as well. They wouldn't have been convenient to daily Mass either, which is something that is important to our family. Where our apartment is located is just absolutely perfect for our needs. It opened up at a time when we really needed it to, and even though I literally cringed when signing the lease for another year, I am so thankful to be able to live here. It is well-maintained, and I have the comfort that if something breaks or malfunctions, I can just call the office and maintenance will come and repair it, at no additional cost to me. The office staff is nice and friendly, and so are most of the people who live here.
It is so easy to overlook where you live as a blessing. There is the always the: "It could always be worse." "You could be homeless." (been there done that) "You could be forced to live in a place that was unsafe." Yes, those are all true. One thing being an Army wife taught me was that you have to make the best of your circumstances. If you find yourself in a situation that is not ideal, you first have to ask yourself, can you change it. If not, then you have 2 choices. 1) You can complain about your situation on a regular basis, and be miserable constantly, making others in your family miserable as well. or 2) You can choose the relish the good points about your situation, and take the focus off of the negatives. You can be positive as much as possible, you can find little things to add enjoyment, or make your situation bearable. You can fake the funk, or "fake it til you make it" if you have to. There is a lot to be said for the power of positive thinking.
All that being said, it is easy to overlook where you live on a deeper level. I look at the conditions Our Lord was born in. I have a booklet entitled "Praying the Rosary Without Distraction." It has ten points for each mystery to meditate on as you pray. In the Joyful Mysteries, the third, The Nativity, one of the points is: Jesus enters the world in poverty to teach the lesson of detachment from earthly things.
Wow. That really speaks to me. How often have I complained about wanting to live in a nicer area, a bigger house, have land, etc. etc. What I am really saying is that what God has provided me with is not good enough. This is not to say I plan to go sell all my worldly goods and move into the neighboring farms barn. However, this encourages me to look at what I do have, and realize that it is just stuff. Yes, stuff gives us comfort, it can bring us happiness, joy, peace, it can give us lots of good things. But it all comes down to just stuff. If there were to be a fire, and all of my worldly possessions get burned to cinders, would I still be happy? Without a doubt. I would be sad, sure, I would miss things that were treasures, things that I cherish, things that I love. But my true happiness is not given to me by anything of this World. It is like the time our hard drive fried and I lost years and years of pictures of the girls. I broke down crying in the middle of the Apple store when I found out everything was gone. I will not lie, it was heart-wrenching. But it wasn't a life ender. It took my personal emtional happiness away at the moment, but it did not take my eternal happiness away. (Keep in mind, I am not saying it's wrong to be sad, or it's wrong to suffer from depression, or it's wrong to be upset. I am talking about a deeper sense of happiness than the here and now.) When my father died, I was crying about his things, and not having them, or being able to see them anymore. My oldest, then just 4, told me, "It's okay Mommy. You have the important stuff right here." And she laid her chubby little hand on my heart. She was so right.
Stuff. Happiness. Right now, I am wearing a shirt that belonged to my mom. It isn't any style of shirt I would have gone out and chosen for myself. If anyone else gave it to me, I probably would have passed it on. But it was my mom's, and wearing makes me feel close to her. As morose as it might sound, knowing that the fabric that touches my skin once touched her skin gives me so much more comfort than I can describe. Stuff is important, even to mental/emotional health. But stuff is not the end all/be all, which is what most of society tells us these days. My happiness, true happiness, comes from something not of this world. It comes from God, and no earthly person or event can take that away from me if I do not choose to let it.
So, while I don't love living in an apartment, I love living where God has housed me. It is right where I am supposed to be.
Meat Free Fridays - Seafood Tacos
I know that meat-free means no meat at all. For this purpose, I am referring to the Catholic rule of abstinence, which is abstaining from beef, pork, and chicken on Fridays. Just wanted to clarify that, lest I upset anyone.
With that said, I mentioned for last weeks post how I am all about the quick and easy. This recipe fits into that theme. It can be as simple or as complex as you want it. I also realized just now that it is another tortilla containing recipe. If you don't want it on a tortilla, it works great on a salad as well.
So, Seafood Tacos
Start with seafood. This is one area where it can be complex or easy. You can use fish, shrimp, crab (real or imitation), whatever you prefer. Go for pre-cooked (I know some places have pre-cooked and seasoned shrimp already peeled and de-veined and ready to go), or cook it yourself. We have done shrimp sautéed in a pan with some butter, lemon, and garlic. You can season these with any flavor you like.
Add your toppings. Again, you can go for simple, like lettuce, tomato, etc. You can add whatever you like, avocado, cheese, some fancy sauce, beans, etc. We sometimes make a sauce, by a pre-made sauce, or just use sour cream or plain Greek yogurt.
Build your taco. Self-explanatory. We pair this with tortilla chips and salsa, home made cornbread, or seasoned rice. Sometimes we just stuff it full of whatever and call it a meal.
Here is the variation we are having tonight:
Tilapia in a simple marinade of olive oil, fresh lime juice (half a lime), and adobo seasoning.
Pan sear the fish in a skillet (we use cast iron). You can use an oil if you like. When fish is done, cut into whatever sized pieces you like for the tacos.
The sauce for our tacos is made from: 1/2 cup mayo, 1/2 sour cream (you can sub Greek yogurt if you like), lime juice (half a lime), cumin, ground red pepper, parsley, onion powder and garlic powder. No exact amounts here, just to taste. *Note: we tend to do a lot of cooking with just eyeballing things and tasting. I'll try to remember to figure out exact amounts in the future.
Instead of lettuce, we are using cabbage. We took a shortcut and bought coleslaw mix, so we didn't have to cut it up ourselves. This provides the "crunch" factor.
Layer fish, cabbage, and sauce on tortilla and enjoy!
Very simple and a tasty way to do it. Having the fish on tacos also helps stretch the meal. If we were to just have baked fish, it would likely require a larger amount of fish to feed all 6 of us. This way, we can cook a smaller amount of fish and make it go farther. (You will see that as a theme in many of my recipes!)
With that said, I mentioned for last weeks post how I am all about the quick and easy. This recipe fits into that theme. It can be as simple or as complex as you want it. I also realized just now that it is another tortilla containing recipe. If you don't want it on a tortilla, it works great on a salad as well.
So, Seafood Tacos
Start with seafood. This is one area where it can be complex or easy. You can use fish, shrimp, crab (real or imitation), whatever you prefer. Go for pre-cooked (I know some places have pre-cooked and seasoned shrimp already peeled and de-veined and ready to go), or cook it yourself. We have done shrimp sautéed in a pan with some butter, lemon, and garlic. You can season these with any flavor you like.
Add your toppings. Again, you can go for simple, like lettuce, tomato, etc. You can add whatever you like, avocado, cheese, some fancy sauce, beans, etc. We sometimes make a sauce, by a pre-made sauce, or just use sour cream or plain Greek yogurt.
Build your taco. Self-explanatory. We pair this with tortilla chips and salsa, home made cornbread, or seasoned rice. Sometimes we just stuff it full of whatever and call it a meal.
Here is the variation we are having tonight:
Tilapia in a simple marinade of olive oil, fresh lime juice (half a lime), and adobo seasoning.
Pan sear the fish in a skillet (we use cast iron). You can use an oil if you like. When fish is done, cut into whatever sized pieces you like for the tacos.
The sauce for our tacos is made from: 1/2 cup mayo, 1/2 sour cream (you can sub Greek yogurt if you like), lime juice (half a lime), cumin, ground red pepper, parsley, onion powder and garlic powder. No exact amounts here, just to taste. *Note: we tend to do a lot of cooking with just eyeballing things and tasting. I'll try to remember to figure out exact amounts in the future.
Instead of lettuce, we are using cabbage. We took a shortcut and bought coleslaw mix, so we didn't have to cut it up ourselves. This provides the "crunch" factor.
Layer fish, cabbage, and sauce on tortilla and enjoy!
Very simple and a tasty way to do it. Having the fish on tacos also helps stretch the meal. If we were to just have baked fish, it would likely require a larger amount of fish to feed all 6 of us. This way, we can cook a smaller amount of fish and make it go farther. (You will see that as a theme in many of my recipes!)
Thursday, October 24, 2013
How do I love my life....let me count the ways - Part 2
I love my husband. I am so incredibly thankful to have had Mr. Cat by my side for almost 18 years now. I am so thankful that he is my best friend, and my soul mate, and I am so happy to share the Sacrament of Marriage with him. We rarely argue. We have this way of just "getting" each other. (another God-given gift) We are happy together and we have a great relationship. When we got married at 20 and 21, most people thought we were nutso. The first thing asked is was I pregnant, and when people found out that was not the case, the second question was just why? Why would we do that at our ages? We did it because it was right for us.
Marriage wasn't always easy. Our first apartment was a studio. We had one main room with a dining area (a light bulb hung over a section by the wall). We had a little kitchenette. There was a small sink, a two burner stove, and a refrigerator that I was taller than. (I don't quite make it to 5'.) We had a tiny hallway which housed a closet and a sink. There was a bathroom with a door that had a toilet and a tub. It was tight quarters. When we moved in, all we had was a mattress on the floor. I remember someone coming to visit and saying how it was "so bohemian" and I thought that was just so cool.
We eventually got a table and chairs, a television, a coffee table, and a pull out sofa that was our bed for a year. We had one very unreliable vehicle (it actually broke down the morning of our wedding). Mr. Cat had a job he was working long hours at and I had two jobs I was working, but we were making it. We had each other and that was what mattered most.
The first year of marriage was tough. We had so little space we couldn't even argue properly. When we would get disgruntled with each other, I would take my pillow and blanket and go sleep in the bathtub. (See, I really am that short!) So many people didn't think we'd make it through the first year. There were bets going on about how long we would last. Even though at that time we did not understand what a Sacramental Marriage was, the one thing we did know was that we were in it for the long haul. So many people nowadays get married with the thought that if it doesn't work out, they can just get a divorce. Thankfully, even then, that was never an option for us. Even through arguments and spats, we both knew that the only person we ever wanted to be with was the other. We managed to make it through.
Our move to New York and living with my mother and step-father took a toll on our marriage. There was a lot of friction going on, and it was rough. We got our own place, and Mr. Cat took a job working nights when Mini Me was born. That was very rough. He slept in the day, and worked all night, sometimes crazy long hours. We lived in an upper apartment at first above a crazy landlord, and then in a duplex. We seemed to be past most of the rough stuff, and were enjoying being married and being parents for the first time. When Mini Me was 16 months old, Mr. Cat joined the Army. This was a joint decision, even though he was the one enlisting. He had talked about being a soldier when we were dating and I immediately dismissed it. "No way. Nope. Not me. I am not even remotely cut out to be a military wife. I can't deal with being stuck alone all the time. Nope, not going to do it. Not ever, not never." And I wasn't cut out for it. Back before we had kids, I am ashamed to admit this out loud, but I even cried when Mr. Cat went out of town for a couple of days for a business trip, so heart-broken I was at the thought of being alone. (I look back and laugh hysterically at myself, by the way.)
Despite my earlier negative thoughts on the military, I was proud and ready to become an Army wife. I made it through basic training, and AIT, and I eagerly awaited my soldier's return to take me to our new home. We went to Washington. State. From New York. And we ran out of money halfway there, but that is a story for another time. I loved being an Army wife, and being a military spouse is something I will always miss. It was a wonderful life, and I wouldn't trade in those years of our lives for anything.
One of the hardest things I ever had to do during my time as a military wife was saying goodbye to my beloved and sending him off for a deployment. That last kiss goodbye, that one last backward glance in the rear view mirror, not knowing if that was going to be the last time I ever saw him.....wow. That still gets me every time and I remember it like it was yesterday. Getting the call from him that he was okay, but was being medically evacuated out of Iraq is another thing that is permanently etched in my memory. Being apart from him, that I could do, I was used to doing. The thought of losing him, it made me mad with worry because how could I lose a part of myself, a part of my heart, and still live?
12 years and three kids later, I am now the wife of a retired disabled combat veteran. We are still together, and in December will be celebrating 18 years of marriage. During all those years, there were two constants in my life. The love I shared with my spouse, and the love I shared with God. I am so very thankful to still have both of those going so strong. I am still over-the-moon in love with my husband. I find him just as, I would actually say more so, attractive as the day we met. I grow more and more in love with him each passing year. I did not even know it was possible to love someone so much. I am so incredibly lucky that we have each other, and I am so grateful for the way God designed our relationship. In areas where I am weak, he is strong, and where he is weak, I am strong. We are like two perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. There are so many things I could say and most sound very kitschy, but, I truly do love my husband.
Marriage wasn't always easy. Our first apartment was a studio. We had one main room with a dining area (a light bulb hung over a section by the wall). We had a little kitchenette. There was a small sink, a two burner stove, and a refrigerator that I was taller than. (I don't quite make it to 5'.) We had a tiny hallway which housed a closet and a sink. There was a bathroom with a door that had a toilet and a tub. It was tight quarters. When we moved in, all we had was a mattress on the floor. I remember someone coming to visit and saying how it was "so bohemian" and I thought that was just so cool.
We eventually got a table and chairs, a television, a coffee table, and a pull out sofa that was our bed for a year. We had one very unreliable vehicle (it actually broke down the morning of our wedding). Mr. Cat had a job he was working long hours at and I had two jobs I was working, but we were making it. We had each other and that was what mattered most.
The first year of marriage was tough. We had so little space we couldn't even argue properly. When we would get disgruntled with each other, I would take my pillow and blanket and go sleep in the bathtub. (See, I really am that short!) So many people didn't think we'd make it through the first year. There were bets going on about how long we would last. Even though at that time we did not understand what a Sacramental Marriage was, the one thing we did know was that we were in it for the long haul. So many people nowadays get married with the thought that if it doesn't work out, they can just get a divorce. Thankfully, even then, that was never an option for us. Even through arguments and spats, we both knew that the only person we ever wanted to be with was the other. We managed to make it through.
Our move to New York and living with my mother and step-father took a toll on our marriage. There was a lot of friction going on, and it was rough. We got our own place, and Mr. Cat took a job working nights when Mini Me was born. That was very rough. He slept in the day, and worked all night, sometimes crazy long hours. We lived in an upper apartment at first above a crazy landlord, and then in a duplex. We seemed to be past most of the rough stuff, and were enjoying being married and being parents for the first time. When Mini Me was 16 months old, Mr. Cat joined the Army. This was a joint decision, even though he was the one enlisting. He had talked about being a soldier when we were dating and I immediately dismissed it. "No way. Nope. Not me. I am not even remotely cut out to be a military wife. I can't deal with being stuck alone all the time. Nope, not going to do it. Not ever, not never." And I wasn't cut out for it. Back before we had kids, I am ashamed to admit this out loud, but I even cried when Mr. Cat went out of town for a couple of days for a business trip, so heart-broken I was at the thought of being alone. (I look back and laugh hysterically at myself, by the way.)
Despite my earlier negative thoughts on the military, I was proud and ready to become an Army wife. I made it through basic training, and AIT, and I eagerly awaited my soldier's return to take me to our new home. We went to Washington. State. From New York. And we ran out of money halfway there, but that is a story for another time. I loved being an Army wife, and being a military spouse is something I will always miss. It was a wonderful life, and I wouldn't trade in those years of our lives for anything.
One of the hardest things I ever had to do during my time as a military wife was saying goodbye to my beloved and sending him off for a deployment. That last kiss goodbye, that one last backward glance in the rear view mirror, not knowing if that was going to be the last time I ever saw him.....wow. That still gets me every time and I remember it like it was yesterday. Getting the call from him that he was okay, but was being medically evacuated out of Iraq is another thing that is permanently etched in my memory. Being apart from him, that I could do, I was used to doing. The thought of losing him, it made me mad with worry because how could I lose a part of myself, a part of my heart, and still live?
12 years and three kids later, I am now the wife of a retired disabled combat veteran. We are still together, and in December will be celebrating 18 years of marriage. During all those years, there were two constants in my life. The love I shared with my spouse, and the love I shared with God. I am so very thankful to still have both of those going so strong. I am still over-the-moon in love with my husband. I find him just as, I would actually say more so, attractive as the day we met. I grow more and more in love with him each passing year. I did not even know it was possible to love someone so much. I am so incredibly lucky that we have each other, and I am so grateful for the way God designed our relationship. In areas where I am weak, he is strong, and where he is weak, I am strong. We are like two perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. There are so many things I could say and most sound very kitschy, but, I truly do love my husband.
Monday, October 21, 2013
How do I love my life....let me count the ways: Part 1
I love being a mom. I love my daughters so fervently, and I cannot imagine my life without them. While I am far from being a supermom, I am happy that I can say I am not a yeller, and I would even say out loud that I have a wonderful gift (God-given for sure) of being able to be very patient with my children. I have not always been able to say this. Being a mom has not always worked out in an ideal way for me, with having a husband who has been gone for months 1 and 2 weeks after the births of our youngest two daughters. I have had my standards adjust multiple times over the years. It is just now that I understand the fluidity of my standard goals, and I am okay when they are sometimes far from where I perceive them to be.
I always wanted to be a mom, ever since I was a little girl. I had a special relationship with my own mom, and I always wanted to have a child to have that relationship with. When I was younger, I never had an idea of how many children I wanted, or genders, I just knew I wanted to be a mom.
I've always loved children and started babysitting as soon as I was able. Children have always loved me. I went to college for a degree in elementary education. When I dropped out of college due to financial reasons, the career path I chose involved teaching children. I have always felt younger and more alive when surrounded by bright, beautiful little minds. When Mr. Cat and I married, we knew we wanted to have children some day. We had our little plans, those plans you make for your future when you are newlyweds. We decided we would have 3 children, a girl, a boy, and then another girl. We even had names picked out.
We were married in 1995. In 1997, we started talking more seriously about starting a family. I had recently switched to a new career, one that was not child-centered, and we felt like we were a little more stable and we decided that starting with the following year, we would begin to try to start a family. I had no idea that God had other plans in store for us.
It was Thanksgiving of 1997 and Mr. Cat was making sausage in our tiny little apartment kitchen (I actually think that kitchen was bigger than the one we currently have!). I started gagging and felt very sick to my stomach. I ran out of the room and down the hall to our only bathroom. The smell was just awful to me. I had to go into our bedroom and run an air purifier to be able to stand the scent of the sausage that was looming in our place. That was our big clue. Mr. Cat went right out and bought a pregnancy test. I took it and we both waited. We found out we were going to be parents.
When talking about my entrance into motherhood, I say one thing that always throws people who know me for a loop. I never intended to be a stay at home mom. Ever. I had plans, people. I had a career. I was going to stay home for my 6 week maternity leave, and after that, baby would be put in a home daycare and I would go back to work. We would eventually move into an apartment that had more than 1 room, but it was no biggie. Babies don't take up much space.
Ha. I had it all planned out. Again, God's plans greatly differed from my own. Long story much much shorter, I sailed through the first trimester, and towards the beginning of the second one, had complications that left me on bed rest and in danger of losing our baby. For 30 days I was made to stay in bed other than getting up to use the bathroom. I was alone all day while Mr. Cat worked in the next state. He left me with a cooler of food and drinks at my bedside. I slept clutching my Bible and praying for that precious life within me for each and every day.
Things improved, and I made plans to return to work. The day I was to go back, complications arose again. God made it very clear to both of us that I was to stay home. This was no easy task. To sum it up, we moved our entire family up to New York to live with my mother in her tiny two bedroom apartment. Remember, no biggie because babies don't take up much space. In the summer of 1998 Mini Me was born, and I have never looked back.
Fast forward through the years. Old Soul was born in December of 2000, Joyful was born in October of 2002, and Gift was born in March of 2003. Four children, all daughters, some of the names we chose, some other names. Two of the four involved a lot of solo-parenting. Two weeks after Joyful was born, Mr. Cat left for Korea and was gone for the first 15 months of her life. He was in Iraq, was able to come home for the birth of Gift, and then a week later was back in Iraq. My experience with mothering has definitely had its ups and downs and many many challenges. Being a mom is rarely how I imagined things when I was young and dreaming of motherhood, or even when I was older and babysitting or working with children.
Especially now that I am past the baby days and are into the teen aged years, the pre-teen years, and the school-aged years, my definition of what it means to be a mom is constantly morphing and changing shape. Even still, the title "Mom" is the most rewarding thing I have ever had the honor of being called.
I am so blessed to be a mother. Someone once told me, children are only lent to us from God. We are charged with raising them, and teaching them, and helping to shape them into productive purposeful people, but they are only on loan to us for a time. It is true. We have to make the most of this little bit of time. As we grow more and more attached and in love with these precious creatures, we have to entrust them back to God. It isn't always easy, for, who can possibly love my children any more than me? But take that love that I feel, magnify it and multiply it by infinity, and you still can't reach the amount of love that God has for them. I am so incredibly honored to be the one that God chose to be their mother, and I love being a mom.
I always wanted to be a mom, ever since I was a little girl. I had a special relationship with my own mom, and I always wanted to have a child to have that relationship with. When I was younger, I never had an idea of how many children I wanted, or genders, I just knew I wanted to be a mom.
I've always loved children and started babysitting as soon as I was able. Children have always loved me. I went to college for a degree in elementary education. When I dropped out of college due to financial reasons, the career path I chose involved teaching children. I have always felt younger and more alive when surrounded by bright, beautiful little minds. When Mr. Cat and I married, we knew we wanted to have children some day. We had our little plans, those plans you make for your future when you are newlyweds. We decided we would have 3 children, a girl, a boy, and then another girl. We even had names picked out.
We were married in 1995. In 1997, we started talking more seriously about starting a family. I had recently switched to a new career, one that was not child-centered, and we felt like we were a little more stable and we decided that starting with the following year, we would begin to try to start a family. I had no idea that God had other plans in store for us.
It was Thanksgiving of 1997 and Mr. Cat was making sausage in our tiny little apartment kitchen (I actually think that kitchen was bigger than the one we currently have!). I started gagging and felt very sick to my stomach. I ran out of the room and down the hall to our only bathroom. The smell was just awful to me. I had to go into our bedroom and run an air purifier to be able to stand the scent of the sausage that was looming in our place. That was our big clue. Mr. Cat went right out and bought a pregnancy test. I took it and we both waited. We found out we were going to be parents.
When talking about my entrance into motherhood, I say one thing that always throws people who know me for a loop. I never intended to be a stay at home mom. Ever. I had plans, people. I had a career. I was going to stay home for my 6 week maternity leave, and after that, baby would be put in a home daycare and I would go back to work. We would eventually move into an apartment that had more than 1 room, but it was no biggie. Babies don't take up much space.
Ha. I had it all planned out. Again, God's plans greatly differed from my own. Long story much much shorter, I sailed through the first trimester, and towards the beginning of the second one, had complications that left me on bed rest and in danger of losing our baby. For 30 days I was made to stay in bed other than getting up to use the bathroom. I was alone all day while Mr. Cat worked in the next state. He left me with a cooler of food and drinks at my bedside. I slept clutching my Bible and praying for that precious life within me for each and every day.
Things improved, and I made plans to return to work. The day I was to go back, complications arose again. God made it very clear to both of us that I was to stay home. This was no easy task. To sum it up, we moved our entire family up to New York to live with my mother in her tiny two bedroom apartment. Remember, no biggie because babies don't take up much space. In the summer of 1998 Mini Me was born, and I have never looked back.
Fast forward through the years. Old Soul was born in December of 2000, Joyful was born in October of 2002, and Gift was born in March of 2003. Four children, all daughters, some of the names we chose, some other names. Two of the four involved a lot of solo-parenting. Two weeks after Joyful was born, Mr. Cat left for Korea and was gone for the first 15 months of her life. He was in Iraq, was able to come home for the birth of Gift, and then a week later was back in Iraq. My experience with mothering has definitely had its ups and downs and many many challenges. Being a mom is rarely how I imagined things when I was young and dreaming of motherhood, or even when I was older and babysitting or working with children.
Especially now that I am past the baby days and are into the teen aged years, the pre-teen years, and the school-aged years, my definition of what it means to be a mom is constantly morphing and changing shape. Even still, the title "Mom" is the most rewarding thing I have ever had the honor of being called.
I am so blessed to be a mother. Someone once told me, children are only lent to us from God. We are charged with raising them, and teaching them, and helping to shape them into productive purposeful people, but they are only on loan to us for a time. It is true. We have to make the most of this little bit of time. As we grow more and more attached and in love with these precious creatures, we have to entrust them back to God. It isn't always easy, for, who can possibly love my children any more than me? But take that love that I feel, magnify it and multiply it by infinity, and you still can't reach the amount of love that God has for them. I am so incredibly honored to be the one that God chose to be their mother, and I love being a mom.
Meat free Fridays (a little late) Bean and Potato Burritos
Usually, by the time we get to Friday, my family is done with a capital "D" and the last thing any of us feel like doing is making dinner. While I would love it to be feasible to order pizza every Friday, it is neither in the budget or very good for us. I try to keep Friday's dinner something simple and easy to prepare.
One of the staple Friday meatless recipes around here is Bean and Potato Burritos. I know it may sound weird to my non-vegetarian friends, but my family loves them, and they really do taste great. Beans are not only easy to fix, they are also easy on the budget. They make a great protein for a meatless meal. I don't have a set recipe for these, but I will give you the basics.
For the potatoes: I cube whatever variety of potato I have on hand. Reds are a favorite for this dish. I drizzle oil over them (vegetable or olive work just fine). I season them. I usually use some granulated garlic, cumin, some red pepper if I want a little spice, sometimes some adobo seasoning (make sure it is MSG free!). After mixing everything around (some people do this in a plastic baggie, some in a bowl, but I do it right in the baking dish to avoid extra mess and waste), toss some kosher salt on top, and pop it in the oven at 375. Cook until fork tender. I don't have an exact time, because it will vary based on the size of your potato pieces, but I usually check on mine after about a half hour.
For the beans: Any type of bean will do, but we love black beans in this dish. You can prepare them in the daytime in the crock pot if you are using dried beans. Just don't cook them so long they get mushy. If you are using canned beans, which I do in a pinch, please remember to rinse the beans. Since beans are on the bland side, I cut up some onions (sometimes green pepper also, depending on what I have on hand) and saute those in a pan. Then comes the seasoning. I find if I season the veg first, the seasoning is more even throughout the dish. I add in more granulated garlic, cumin, chili powder, adobo, whatever seasoning I want (sometimes I throw in some African berbere for a nice flavor). Mix the seasoning in well, and then add the beans. Mix well. You may need to add some salt, to taste. These just need to be heated through.
When beans and potatoes are done, build your tortillas. Use whatever size you like. My family loves my homemade tortillas, but most of the time, since it's a Friday and I want it to be easy, I just use store-bought tortillas. I prefer flour tortillas for this. Put on as much beans and potatoes as you like. Top with any topping you would normally use. We typically use shredded cheese, and either sour cream, or plain Greek yogurt, which we tend to always have in the fridge.
No picture this week because they were devoured faster than I could get a shot.
One of the staple Friday meatless recipes around here is Bean and Potato Burritos. I know it may sound weird to my non-vegetarian friends, but my family loves them, and they really do taste great. Beans are not only easy to fix, they are also easy on the budget. They make a great protein for a meatless meal. I don't have a set recipe for these, but I will give you the basics.
For the potatoes: I cube whatever variety of potato I have on hand. Reds are a favorite for this dish. I drizzle oil over them (vegetable or olive work just fine). I season them. I usually use some granulated garlic, cumin, some red pepper if I want a little spice, sometimes some adobo seasoning (make sure it is MSG free!). After mixing everything around (some people do this in a plastic baggie, some in a bowl, but I do it right in the baking dish to avoid extra mess and waste), toss some kosher salt on top, and pop it in the oven at 375. Cook until fork tender. I don't have an exact time, because it will vary based on the size of your potato pieces, but I usually check on mine after about a half hour.
For the beans: Any type of bean will do, but we love black beans in this dish. You can prepare them in the daytime in the crock pot if you are using dried beans. Just don't cook them so long they get mushy. If you are using canned beans, which I do in a pinch, please remember to rinse the beans. Since beans are on the bland side, I cut up some onions (sometimes green pepper also, depending on what I have on hand) and saute those in a pan. Then comes the seasoning. I find if I season the veg first, the seasoning is more even throughout the dish. I add in more granulated garlic, cumin, chili powder, adobo, whatever seasoning I want (sometimes I throw in some African berbere for a nice flavor). Mix the seasoning in well, and then add the beans. Mix well. You may need to add some salt, to taste. These just need to be heated through.
When beans and potatoes are done, build your tortillas. Use whatever size you like. My family loves my homemade tortillas, but most of the time, since it's a Friday and I want it to be easy, I just use store-bought tortillas. I prefer flour tortillas for this. Put on as much beans and potatoes as you like. Top with any topping you would normally use. We typically use shredded cheese, and either sour cream, or plain Greek yogurt, which we tend to always have in the fridge.
No picture this week because they were devoured faster than I could get a shot.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
I love my life!
I love my life!
(This post definitely gets my length disclaimer: this will get wordy. I can't help it on this subject.)
I love my life. There, I said it. It's true. I know it sounds like a trite thing to say, but I absolutely and unequivocally adore my life. I have always been a Pollyanna sort, and one who has been almost always been able to find the silver lining. I have rarely, however, applied that to my own personal life. I have in the little ways we all do, when I think, it could always be worse, or at least I ...<fill in the blank>. It isn't really until recently that I have come to the place that I am really certain of God's Divine Providence in my life.
Divine Providence is so much more than I ever understood until this point in my life. When I was younger, and back in my protestant days, I was going through a very difficult time. A church leader once said to me, "You're lucky. You suffer from a sweet disposition." in referring to my ordeal. I was speechless. I was thinking, what??? I am going through a horrible time, struggling in pretty much every area, and you think I am lucky? Suffer and sweet shouldn't belong in the same sentence. How can this be sweet? How can my situation be anything but crummy?
I didn't understand at that point just what he was saying. I have since come to understand (and forgive, lol) exactly the point he was trying to make. No, my situation may not be ideal, it may not be anything I've ever hoped for, or wished for, or it may not even being anything I would ever hope or wish for anyone else. It may look like nothing good, and all bad, but my situation is mine. I am there. Maybe not because I want to be, but certainly because I am meant to be. Divine Providence.
People think Divine Providence means that God is taking care of you and it's all good. Divine, that is a word that connotates something of or pertaining to God. God is all good. God is all loving. God is holy. Things that come from God are good. Providence connotates taking care of, providing for. So, we put those two words together. God is providing for us in a good way.
Wait a minute. I am 38 years old, I have lost a brother, my father, and my mother. I am essentially an adult orphan. I have health issues. They could be a lot worse, but they still let me know they are there. We are raising four children on a student budget. We had our lifelong plan of being an Army family ripped away from us. How are any of these things good? How can God, who is all-good, all-loving, all-powerful, put me in this situation?
The main answer is that the definition of "good" in my eyes does not always mesh with the definition of "good" in God's eyes. These circumstances I find myself in, the loss I have experience, especially recently with the death of my mother, these things are not in and of themselves good things. But, through all of these things, my faith has actually been strengthened. I feel closer to God than ever before. I know without a doubt I am right where I am supposed to be.
We made it through the summer on a very small monthly paycheck. On paper, it shouldn't have worked out. There are people that helped us get there. There are people that reached out and helped us through this very rough summer. All our bills were paid and the only thing we had cut off was our Internet. We had enough gas to get to Mass. We had food on our table every day. No one went hungry. Divine Providence. Yes, it is true, but Divine Providence is so much more than taking care of physical and material needs.
Many times, when something bad happens, people lose their faith. They get angry at God, sometimes even turning away from Him completely. I am so blessed that this is not the case for me. I found that I had to rely on my faith to get through this summer, and really draw on the strength that God provided for me. When going through the loss of my mother, each day was worse than the one before. The entire process was absolutely the worst and most emotional thing I have ever been through in my life. Gut wrenching does not even touch it, nor does heart-breaking. Each day she slipped further and further away, and I had to watch it, I had to participate in and help make decisions that would affect her life. It was too much to bear. I cried so much. I cried until I felt dehydrated from the inside out. It was wretched. I cried to my husband on the phone, "I can't do this! I cannot sit here and lose her. I just can't do this anymore. I want to come home. I want to walk away and pretend that this is not my life." I am so thankful for Mr. Cat, and him listening to me. I walked away from many of those conversations with so many emotions rolling through my entire being. I always walked away from them with strength. I took that little bit of strength that he was able to give me, and I used it to reach out to God. I now know what it means when someone says, "I cried out to God in my despair." Indeed I did cry out to God in my despair, and indeed God gave me the strength to make it through. Strength was my prayer. "God, give me enough strength to make it through this day. Give me enough strength to make it through this meeting with the ICU nurses and doctors. Give me enough strength to get through this night." Each and every time I felt like I could stand no more, I prayed for just enough to get me through to the next moment and GOD WAS FAITHFUL. He provided. That, my friends, is Divine Providence. Again, I was on the phone talking to Mr. Cat: "I can't do this. I just absolutely cannot plan my mom's funeral. I cannot do this. I don't want to do this. No daughter should have to do this for her mother. This is wrong and I am all done." And I walked away with a faint hint of strength. And I prayed. And God was faithful. Divine Providence.
Before this summer I said: Where I wish I was, and where I am, are two very different places. This is not so much the case anymore. Slowly, very slowly, I am saying: I want to be where I am, because this is where God has placed me. What I wish is what God wishes for me. I am saying: I am happy where I am. I am content to be where I am. I am no longer looking at where I could be, or wish I was, or even want to be, and instead I am directing my idea of what I want into where I am. It has made a world of a difference in my outlook.
I love my life. I love where God has placed me. Indeed it is sweet, even amidst sorrow, because God has seen my weeping and He has provided me with all I need, which is just enough. I love my life.
***Stay tuned for "How do I love my life.....let me count the ways."***
(This post definitely gets my length disclaimer: this will get wordy. I can't help it on this subject.)
I love my life. There, I said it. It's true. I know it sounds like a trite thing to say, but I absolutely and unequivocally adore my life. I have always been a Pollyanna sort, and one who has been almost always been able to find the silver lining. I have rarely, however, applied that to my own personal life. I have in the little ways we all do, when I think, it could always be worse, or at least I ...<fill in the blank>. It isn't really until recently that I have come to the place that I am really certain of God's Divine Providence in my life.
Divine Providence is so much more than I ever understood until this point in my life. When I was younger, and back in my protestant days, I was going through a very difficult time. A church leader once said to me, "You're lucky. You suffer from a sweet disposition." in referring to my ordeal. I was speechless. I was thinking, what??? I am going through a horrible time, struggling in pretty much every area, and you think I am lucky? Suffer and sweet shouldn't belong in the same sentence. How can this be sweet? How can my situation be anything but crummy?
I didn't understand at that point just what he was saying. I have since come to understand (and forgive, lol) exactly the point he was trying to make. No, my situation may not be ideal, it may not be anything I've ever hoped for, or wished for, or it may not even being anything I would ever hope or wish for anyone else. It may look like nothing good, and all bad, but my situation is mine. I am there. Maybe not because I want to be, but certainly because I am meant to be. Divine Providence.
People think Divine Providence means that God is taking care of you and it's all good. Divine, that is a word that connotates something of or pertaining to God. God is all good. God is all loving. God is holy. Things that come from God are good. Providence connotates taking care of, providing for. So, we put those two words together. God is providing for us in a good way.
Wait a minute. I am 38 years old, I have lost a brother, my father, and my mother. I am essentially an adult orphan. I have health issues. They could be a lot worse, but they still let me know they are there. We are raising four children on a student budget. We had our lifelong plan of being an Army family ripped away from us. How are any of these things good? How can God, who is all-good, all-loving, all-powerful, put me in this situation?
The main answer is that the definition of "good" in my eyes does not always mesh with the definition of "good" in God's eyes. These circumstances I find myself in, the loss I have experience, especially recently with the death of my mother, these things are not in and of themselves good things. But, through all of these things, my faith has actually been strengthened. I feel closer to God than ever before. I know without a doubt I am right where I am supposed to be.
We made it through the summer on a very small monthly paycheck. On paper, it shouldn't have worked out. There are people that helped us get there. There are people that reached out and helped us through this very rough summer. All our bills were paid and the only thing we had cut off was our Internet. We had enough gas to get to Mass. We had food on our table every day. No one went hungry. Divine Providence. Yes, it is true, but Divine Providence is so much more than taking care of physical and material needs.
Many times, when something bad happens, people lose their faith. They get angry at God, sometimes even turning away from Him completely. I am so blessed that this is not the case for me. I found that I had to rely on my faith to get through this summer, and really draw on the strength that God provided for me. When going through the loss of my mother, each day was worse than the one before. The entire process was absolutely the worst and most emotional thing I have ever been through in my life. Gut wrenching does not even touch it, nor does heart-breaking. Each day she slipped further and further away, and I had to watch it, I had to participate in and help make decisions that would affect her life. It was too much to bear. I cried so much. I cried until I felt dehydrated from the inside out. It was wretched. I cried to my husband on the phone, "I can't do this! I cannot sit here and lose her. I just can't do this anymore. I want to come home. I want to walk away and pretend that this is not my life." I am so thankful for Mr. Cat, and him listening to me. I walked away from many of those conversations with so many emotions rolling through my entire being. I always walked away from them with strength. I took that little bit of strength that he was able to give me, and I used it to reach out to God. I now know what it means when someone says, "I cried out to God in my despair." Indeed I did cry out to God in my despair, and indeed God gave me the strength to make it through. Strength was my prayer. "God, give me enough strength to make it through this day. Give me enough strength to make it through this meeting with the ICU nurses and doctors. Give me enough strength to get through this night." Each and every time I felt like I could stand no more, I prayed for just enough to get me through to the next moment and GOD WAS FAITHFUL. He provided. That, my friends, is Divine Providence. Again, I was on the phone talking to Mr. Cat: "I can't do this. I just absolutely cannot plan my mom's funeral. I cannot do this. I don't want to do this. No daughter should have to do this for her mother. This is wrong and I am all done." And I walked away with a faint hint of strength. And I prayed. And God was faithful. Divine Providence.
Before this summer I said: Where I wish I was, and where I am, are two very different places. This is not so much the case anymore. Slowly, very slowly, I am saying: I want to be where I am, because this is where God has placed me. What I wish is what God wishes for me. I am saying: I am happy where I am. I am content to be where I am. I am no longer looking at where I could be, or wish I was, or even want to be, and instead I am directing my idea of what I want into where I am. It has made a world of a difference in my outlook.
I love my life. I love where God has placed me. Indeed it is sweet, even amidst sorrow, because God has seen my weeping and He has provided me with all I need, which is just enough. I love my life.
***Stay tuned for "How do I love my life.....let me count the ways."***
Friday, October 11, 2013
Our other Friday Tradition!
I mentioned before how I love tradition. I am a sucker for it. I love big traditions, little traditions, Church traditions, family traditions, all kinds. I love reading about other peoples traditions too. (If you have some you'd like to share with me, I am all ears!)
I love having 4 daughters to share traditions with. Some of these are things from my childhood, or from Mr. Cat's childhood. Others are things we've been doing since the beginning of our parenthood. Still others are things that are new. It is my hope that these traditions, these lovely bits of our family life, will become memories that my daughters cherish and treasure, and will one day pass on to their families (if the family life is what God calls them to).
We started committing to attend weekday daily Mass around a month ago. At our parish, 4 days out of the weekday, Mass begins at 7:30 AM. Those who know me well know that I am NOT a morning person, not by any means. I relish my sleep. I need my sleep. I have found as I get older that sleep is not something I can skimp on. I used to be able to get by and be just fine with 4-6 hours. Now that I am aging, I am finding my body does not cooperate with me on less than 8 hours a night. Thyroid disease and anemia aren't currently helping in that area. Anyway, I like my sleep.
As a home schooling family, we have, for the most part, always been able to make our own schedules. I loved that I didn't have to rise early, properly caffeinate myself, and get up cranky grumpy kids to get them all ready for school at what I consider to be an insanely early hour. I love not having that hassle. (The two years that my oldest spent in the public school system were very tough for me, and I dreaded each and every morning probably more than she did.) I enjoyed letting the kids awaken when their bodies told them it was time to get up. I enjoyed being able to sleep in myself, and wake on my own. Then reality hit me.
Really, are my children going to be able to always set their own schedule, and always going to wake up in their own time? What about college and early classes? What about future employment? What about morning prayers, or waking babies, or whatever God has planned for their future? As their mom, I am supposed to set them up for success in all areas. I began to worry I was instead setting them up for failure, or at the very least, not preparing them for reality.
After reading an article that an amazing friend and fellow Catholic home schooling mom wrote regarding the attendance of daily Mass, I felt that familiar tug on my conscience. Adding in daily Mass was something I knew I needed to do.
I'll get into that another time, as I am getting way off track here. Suffice it to say, we are learning our new routine. We eat when we come home from Mass. Because we are keeping a stricter school schedule, it needs to be something quick and easy. We usually rotate between cereal and other instant breakfast foods.
3 weeks ago or so, I decided to make pancakes for breakfast. We were all tired and cranky from our new morning schedule, everyone was bombarded with the intensity of the new (for us) curriculum that we are using this year, and I felt that we needed a pick me up. I usually use a griddle when we make pancakes, but it was up in the laundry closet on a high shelf, with something sitting on top of it and I just didn't feel like it. With my low iron levels, I have been cooking in the cast iron skillet as much as possible, and even though I knew it would take extra time only making one pancake at a time, I decided to use the skillet.
We ended up with some thick, delicious pancakes that looked like they could have come out of a breakfast restaurant place. I don't normally even eat pancakes at all, yet these had my mouth watering. What was best was how instantly my girls perked up, and how pleased they were, and how thankful. I realized that something that took such small effort on my part brought about such a great reward for all of us. We were a little later starting school that day, but with the promise of the weekend coming, and bellies full of yummy goodness, they all sailed on through and finished up their work week earlier than normal.
So now we have pancake Fridays. I was feeling sick last week, recovering from a nasty migraine, and so I missed pancake Friday that week, but the girls were so pleased when they saw me reach for the griddle this morning when we got home from Mass. Poor Mr. Cat was headed off to start his school day and was lamenting on the fact that he misses pancake Friday. Perhaps I will have to add in a new tradition just for him.
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I love having 4 daughters to share traditions with. Some of these are things from my childhood, or from Mr. Cat's childhood. Others are things we've been doing since the beginning of our parenthood. Still others are things that are new. It is my hope that these traditions, these lovely bits of our family life, will become memories that my daughters cherish and treasure, and will one day pass on to their families (if the family life is what God calls them to).
We started committing to attend weekday daily Mass around a month ago. At our parish, 4 days out of the weekday, Mass begins at 7:30 AM. Those who know me well know that I am NOT a morning person, not by any means. I relish my sleep. I need my sleep. I have found as I get older that sleep is not something I can skimp on. I used to be able to get by and be just fine with 4-6 hours. Now that I am aging, I am finding my body does not cooperate with me on less than 8 hours a night. Thyroid disease and anemia aren't currently helping in that area. Anyway, I like my sleep.
As a home schooling family, we have, for the most part, always been able to make our own schedules. I loved that I didn't have to rise early, properly caffeinate myself, and get up cranky grumpy kids to get them all ready for school at what I consider to be an insanely early hour. I love not having that hassle. (The two years that my oldest spent in the public school system were very tough for me, and I dreaded each and every morning probably more than she did.) I enjoyed letting the kids awaken when their bodies told them it was time to get up. I enjoyed being able to sleep in myself, and wake on my own. Then reality hit me.
Really, are my children going to be able to always set their own schedule, and always going to wake up in their own time? What about college and early classes? What about future employment? What about morning prayers, or waking babies, or whatever God has planned for their future? As their mom, I am supposed to set them up for success in all areas. I began to worry I was instead setting them up for failure, or at the very least, not preparing them for reality.
After reading an article that an amazing friend and fellow Catholic home schooling mom wrote regarding the attendance of daily Mass, I felt that familiar tug on my conscience. Adding in daily Mass was something I knew I needed to do.
I'll get into that another time, as I am getting way off track here. Suffice it to say, we are learning our new routine. We eat when we come home from Mass. Because we are keeping a stricter school schedule, it needs to be something quick and easy. We usually rotate between cereal and other instant breakfast foods.
3 weeks ago or so, I decided to make pancakes for breakfast. We were all tired and cranky from our new morning schedule, everyone was bombarded with the intensity of the new (for us) curriculum that we are using this year, and I felt that we needed a pick me up. I usually use a griddle when we make pancakes, but it was up in the laundry closet on a high shelf, with something sitting on top of it and I just didn't feel like it. With my low iron levels, I have been cooking in the cast iron skillet as much as possible, and even though I knew it would take extra time only making one pancake at a time, I decided to use the skillet.
We ended up with some thick, delicious pancakes that looked like they could have come out of a breakfast restaurant place. I don't normally even eat pancakes at all, yet these had my mouth watering. What was best was how instantly my girls perked up, and how pleased they were, and how thankful. I realized that something that took such small effort on my part brought about such a great reward for all of us. We were a little later starting school that day, but with the promise of the weekend coming, and bellies full of yummy goodness, they all sailed on through and finished up their work week earlier than normal.
So now we have pancake Fridays. I was feeling sick last week, recovering from a nasty migraine, and so I missed pancake Friday that week, but the girls were so pleased when they saw me reach for the griddle this morning when we got home from Mass. Poor Mr. Cat was headed off to start his school day and was lamenting on the fact that he misses pancake Friday. Perhaps I will have to add in a new tradition just for him.
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Introducing...Meat Free Fridays!
I embrace tradition. All types of tradition. One of the things that appeals to me so much about my Catholic faith, is Sacred Tradition. I love everything about it. When in my past I felt that a liturgical service was dry and emotionless, now my soul just longs for it and I have found myself drawn to keeping traditions in my faith that many consider "old-fashioned" and done away with. I don't mean for this to turn into a debate about which things were and were not abrogated by Vatican II, so I am not going to get into the nitty gritty things with this posting.
One of the traditions that I keep as a Catholic is to not eat meat on Fridays. (The tradition allows fish/seafood, but no beef, pork, chicken, etc.) During Lent, we are to not eat meat on Fridays, and that is the "norm" for Catholics everywhere, so it is not unheard of. Many restaurants will have some kind of fish special on Fridays during Lent. However, I don't participate in abstinence of meat only on Fridays during Lent, but on all Fridays. There have been times I have forgotten, or slipped up, used thawed meat that I had, or leftovers, etc. We all stumble, even when we have the best intentions. For the most part though, our family chooses to follow the tradition of abstaining from meat every Friday.
My plan for this blog is to post a "Meat Free Friday" recipe each week. I sometimes get stuck on the fish on Fridays, or pasta, or the easy pizza, but I do have a lot of vegetarian meals in my cooking repertoire that I often forget about. Each week I will post a new one. Even better, if you have one you would like to share, please contact me and let me know. We all have to stick together and I love trying new recipes!
Today though, no recipe for the night's meal. We have the honor of meeting some friends and family of someone Mr. Cat has known since his childhood days. I have "known" them since the early days of our marriage, and I am so excited to finally be able to meet them in person. The girls are very much looking forward to meeting some new friends, and eating out, which is a pretty huge treat since we rarely do it. I will be dining on fish.
One of the traditions that I keep as a Catholic is to not eat meat on Fridays. (The tradition allows fish/seafood, but no beef, pork, chicken, etc.) During Lent, we are to not eat meat on Fridays, and that is the "norm" for Catholics everywhere, so it is not unheard of. Many restaurants will have some kind of fish special on Fridays during Lent. However, I don't participate in abstinence of meat only on Fridays during Lent, but on all Fridays. There have been times I have forgotten, or slipped up, used thawed meat that I had, or leftovers, etc. We all stumble, even when we have the best intentions. For the most part though, our family chooses to follow the tradition of abstaining from meat every Friday.
My plan for this blog is to post a "Meat Free Friday" recipe each week. I sometimes get stuck on the fish on Fridays, or pasta, or the easy pizza, but I do have a lot of vegetarian meals in my cooking repertoire that I often forget about. Each week I will post a new one. Even better, if you have one you would like to share, please contact me and let me know. We all have to stick together and I love trying new recipes!
Today though, no recipe for the night's meal. We have the honor of meeting some friends and family of someone Mr. Cat has known since his childhood days. I have "known" them since the early days of our marriage, and I am so excited to finally be able to meet them in person. The girls are very much looking forward to meeting some new friends, and eating out, which is a pretty huge treat since we rarely do it. I will be dining on fish.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Let's start at the ending
Well, this isn't the ending, but instead of starting at the beginning, which would be way too lengthy and time consuming, I will start at the present, and work my way backwards. (sticking in a length disclaimer: this will be lengthy. I promise to try to keep my words to a manageable content in the future, but this is about as condensed as I can get it and still make the point.)
Today -
I am a Catholic woman, wife, and mother. A convert, really, even though I was baptised into the Church as an infant. I never had catechism, and never went through my sacraments as a child. I was a protestant for many years, trying out various denominations, trying to find a "fit" and at the time of my decision to follow the conversion path, I was an active member of a southern baptist church. My entire family converted, all 6 of us. My husband and I were welcomed into the Church in April of 2012. My oldest 3 daughters received their First Holy Communion that May, and my oldest daughter, her Confirmation. This past May, my youngest daughter received her First Holy Communion. I try to attend daily Holy Mass with my family.
I am a home schooling mom. This is my 8th year total, and 7th year consecutive. Or something like that. Our faith was not the main reason for our decision to home school our girls, but it has been an important part of our curriculum choices. That hasn't changed.
I have the vocation to stay at home with my children, raising them, and teaching them, and doing any number of domestic things.
I am the wife of a full time college student.
I am the wife of a disabled combat veteran, and the wife of an Army retiree.
I am living in an apartment in a small town in Florida. My apartment complex is sandwiched between a hay field and a cow pasture.
This is the present. Now I will back it up a bit, and you can see some of the major life changes we've gone through in the past .......(whatever)
This summer -
In June, I found out my mom was sick, and cancer was suspected. I flew to see her, and provide as much support for her as possible. I expected a long, arduous journey with cancer, but I was hopeful for her, and my plan was to get her as settled as possible. I arrived on a Saturday. By the following Wednesday, she was gone.
The summer started when school let out for the husband. We were an unemployed household. He applied every possible place he could think of, and yet, no job was to be found. Where we live in FL, the summer is pretty slow due to the lack of snowbirds. There was no being picky, there was just nothing available. During the school year, we survive on Mr. Cat's retirement/disability pay, student loans, and the GI bill housing allowance. During the summer months (and the month school is out during winter) there is no GI Bill or student loans. That leaves us with not enough to live on. At least, on paper.
This past spring 2013 - Mr. Cat was finishing his second semester as a full time college student. The girls and I found a home school group. We were really starting to meet people and get involved in our parish.
Last winter 2012-13 - Our first Christmas in Florida
Last fall 2012 - We moved into our little apartment, close to the college and our parish. Mr. Cat enrolled in college full time, using the GI bill, which was our backup plan for "just in case".
Last Summer 2012 - In order: Mr. Cat retired from the Army. We got our house in GA ready for rental, picked up and moved everyone to FL. We were going there because he had a job that was "unofficially his, blah blah blah just a formality, blah blah blah". We had no place to live, and moved in with some extremely generous and gracious friends. He did not get the job. We were left scrambling to figure out what to do.
The year prior to that - Mr. Cat found out he was being medically retired from the Army and it was a long long process.
The muddle of years before and before -(not in order) I was an Army wife. I birthed 4 daughters, and survived one 15 month unacommpanied tour to Korea (starting with a 2 week old baby), 2 deployments to Iraq (one with a birth in the middle, one ending in medical evacuation), any number of occasions of solo-parenting.
Anyway, you get the gist. Basically, the last couple of years have been real doozies for our family. We are finding our way. Slowly, but we are getting there. We aren't where we planned, or even wanted to be, and in many ways, it almost seems like we have taken a giant step backward. Yet, here we are. Right where we are supposed to be. I have 2 parting words to leave you with: Divine Providence
And this our life, our beginning...
This is not the beginning of my life, not even close, but it is the beginning of something new. This quote came from our wedding invitations almost 18 years ago and seemed fitting now. If you had told me then where I'd be now, I never would have believed it. I still sometimes can't believe I am where I am now. Yet, here I find myself. So many things have happened in the recent past, things that have massively shaped who I am, and how I feel about that, my life, my family, my heart, my soul...
This is the place where I try to pull it all together and share what I feel compelled to share. Lately I feel like I am almost truly coming into myself, into the woman, wife and mother that God has designed me to be. I am learning what true happiness is. I am learning what really matters in this, my life.
I intend this blog to give a little insight to my life. I hope to be able to share things that are happy, things that are sad, things that are poignant, things that are trite, things that carry a lot of weight, things that are shallow. It is of all these things (and many more) that I am made up, and I want to share that with my friends, my family, even with strangers. The reason? Simple. I have felt alone. I felt downtrodden. I have felt like there is no other soul out there who understands me. For every person who thinks the way I do, I know in reality, there are plenty of others out there who think the same thing. I have stressed so much in my life and wasted so much time worrying about what others think of me, and if I am coming across the way I intend. I have obsessed about whether people like me. If so, how can they possibly? If not, what is wrong with me?
I am at a place in my life where I feel like I am finally getting a grasp on just who I really am. And you know what? I'm okay. I am beautiful. I am lovely. I am silly. I am nerdy. I am imperfect. I am so many things, but for the first time in my life, I am okay, really and truly okay, with being me.
I come with a lot of baggage, and that load has worn grooves into my heart and soul, and those marks, some rough gouges, some smooth valleys, make up the topography of me. Mapping out these uneven surfaces, if it helps someone find their way, well...it's worth it. And if this becomes nothing but a treasure map that leads to nowhere, well... it's worth it. The point is, I have a voice, and even if I am the only one who hears it, I am not alone.
This is the place where I try to pull it all together and share what I feel compelled to share. Lately I feel like I am almost truly coming into myself, into the woman, wife and mother that God has designed me to be. I am learning what true happiness is. I am learning what really matters in this, my life.
I intend this blog to give a little insight to my life. I hope to be able to share things that are happy, things that are sad, things that are poignant, things that are trite, things that carry a lot of weight, things that are shallow. It is of all these things (and many more) that I am made up, and I want to share that with my friends, my family, even with strangers. The reason? Simple. I have felt alone. I felt downtrodden. I have felt like there is no other soul out there who understands me. For every person who thinks the way I do, I know in reality, there are plenty of others out there who think the same thing. I have stressed so much in my life and wasted so much time worrying about what others think of me, and if I am coming across the way I intend. I have obsessed about whether people like me. If so, how can they possibly? If not, what is wrong with me?
I am at a place in my life where I feel like I am finally getting a grasp on just who I really am. And you know what? I'm okay. I am beautiful. I am lovely. I am silly. I am nerdy. I am imperfect. I am so many things, but for the first time in my life, I am okay, really and truly okay, with being me.
I come with a lot of baggage, and that load has worn grooves into my heart and soul, and those marks, some rough gouges, some smooth valleys, make up the topography of me. Mapping out these uneven surfaces, if it helps someone find their way, well...it's worth it. And if this becomes nothing but a treasure map that leads to nowhere, well... it's worth it. The point is, I have a voice, and even if I am the only one who hears it, I am not alone.
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