Many Memories Pink Birth Announcement
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Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Worthy of coming out of blog retirement
How much is that polly in the tubby?
The one with the piggly toes...
How much is that polly in the tubby?
I do like her cute turned up nose.
PS She's not for sale.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
I Finally Made it to the Top
Tonight I was returning back to my office on the 2nd floor of my building at the company I've worked at for over 11 years. As I was pressing the elevator button I was simultaneously overcome with two feelings. One was guilt caused by the signage posted immediately outside of the elevator scolding employees to actually WALK up the stairs rather than laze it up the elevator. These signs are pretty good too. They say things like, "Exercise more than your finger, take the stairs!" Clever. I was particularly guilt-ridden since I'd just gotten done working out and really, two levels? Bum.
The other feeling was one I don't often experience. I hate to even bring it up. I told myself I'd write it down, though, in an effort to be honest and to remember the little things. The other feeling was the teeeniest, eeeniest sense of pride. Even typing it makes me cringe a little. I think I should erase this whole thought from my head and the computer and pretend I wasn't proud. But the truth is, I was a little bit proud of myself or at the very least, I felt a wave of a sense of accomplishment. And you know what? It felt good. So there. The truth is and what I actually thought was, "hmmm, neat". So I'm going to call it "neat" instead of pride. I felt neat.
The reason for my "neat"? I realized standing at that elevator, that I had been there before. I was suddenly brought back to 1999, my first year of law school. I was working as an engineer and attending school nearly full time at night. I was somehow emboldened one day to pick up the phone and call one of the big shot patent attorneys who had worked here for years in an effort to learn more about what I one day wanted to do. The patent attorneys sat in an adjoining building which housed all of the big shots. This building used to be the headquarters and the big shot attorneys sat on the 2nd floor. I wasn't at all convinced I'd ever be 'good enough' to wind up in the role of these guys on the 2nd floor. And I was okay with that. I enjoy my job, I really enjoy learning new things. But I was never what you'd call very confident. I was so intimidated then, I felt so insecure and yet, I pressed the button to the elevator (I must have ignored the signage then too) and waltzed right in to several attorneys' offices having absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. Some of those lawyers are still here. And so I am. They are big shot patent attorneys still and as fate (and quadrillions of hours of studying) would have it, I am one too, minus the 'big shot'. Fortunately for me, I think my lack of confidence makes me work harder. I believe I've worked very hard but always my family came first so even with hard work, the 2nd floor still seemed out of reach.
But tonight I pressed that same elevator button to that same floor and waltzed into my lovely little office, with pictures of my lovely little kids plastered everywhere and my work splayed about. The odds were against me winding up here on the second floor of this builiding working as a patent attorney. The building changed and different groups have moved in and out. My group really didn't even belong here and this has only been our temporary holding place for a year or two. In fact, we're moving in a few weeks to a new building and we'll be on the 7th floor, the 8th floor being the top.
But you know what? I think this temporary location of mine was meant to be so that for one moment in my work life I could say, "I made it to the top". You see, the second floor of this building is the top floor.
If only fleetingly, I've come full circle and I'm not ashamed to say, I think it's pretty neat.
Post Script: Paula (very sweet) reminded me of the post script I wanted to include. I believe that God gave me my little moment yesterday because just yesterday morning I was telling Rachie that I really didn't think I could do my job. I was feeling pretty crummy about the whole thing. And just like that He swoops in with the message, "You can and you are good enough, I made you that way". But I especially love the irony that He makes sure I don't get a big head or too carried away with this pride thing--He is after all, knocking me down a level (7th floor remember?) and I'm perfectly happy with that.
The other feeling was one I don't often experience. I hate to even bring it up. I told myself I'd write it down, though, in an effort to be honest and to remember the little things. The other feeling was the teeeniest, eeeniest sense of pride. Even typing it makes me cringe a little. I think I should erase this whole thought from my head and the computer and pretend I wasn't proud. But the truth is, I was a little bit proud of myself or at the very least, I felt a wave of a sense of accomplishment. And you know what? It felt good. So there. The truth is and what I actually thought was, "hmmm, neat". So I'm going to call it "neat" instead of pride. I felt neat.
The reason for my "neat"? I realized standing at that elevator, that I had been there before. I was suddenly brought back to 1999, my first year of law school. I was working as an engineer and attending school nearly full time at night. I was somehow emboldened one day to pick up the phone and call one of the big shot patent attorneys who had worked here for years in an effort to learn more about what I one day wanted to do. The patent attorneys sat in an adjoining building which housed all of the big shots. This building used to be the headquarters and the big shot attorneys sat on the 2nd floor. I wasn't at all convinced I'd ever be 'good enough' to wind up in the role of these guys on the 2nd floor. And I was okay with that. I enjoy my job, I really enjoy learning new things. But I was never what you'd call very confident. I was so intimidated then, I felt so insecure and yet, I pressed the button to the elevator (I must have ignored the signage then too) and waltzed right in to several attorneys' offices having absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. Some of those lawyers are still here. And so I am. They are big shot patent attorneys still and as fate (and quadrillions of hours of studying) would have it, I am one too, minus the 'big shot'. Fortunately for me, I think my lack of confidence makes me work harder. I believe I've worked very hard but always my family came first so even with hard work, the 2nd floor still seemed out of reach.
But tonight I pressed that same elevator button to that same floor and waltzed into my lovely little office, with pictures of my lovely little kids plastered everywhere and my work splayed about. The odds were against me winding up here on the second floor of this builiding working as a patent attorney. The building changed and different groups have moved in and out. My group really didn't even belong here and this has only been our temporary holding place for a year or two. In fact, we're moving in a few weeks to a new building and we'll be on the 7th floor, the 8th floor being the top.
But you know what? I think this temporary location of mine was meant to be so that for one moment in my work life I could say, "I made it to the top". You see, the second floor of this building is the top floor.
If only fleetingly, I've come full circle and I'm not ashamed to say, I think it's pretty neat.
Post Script: Paula (very sweet) reminded me of the post script I wanted to include. I believe that God gave me my little moment yesterday because just yesterday morning I was telling Rachie that I really didn't think I could do my job. I was feeling pretty crummy about the whole thing. And just like that He swoops in with the message, "You can and you are good enough, I made you that way". But I especially love the irony that He makes sure I don't get a big head or too carried away with this pride thing--He is after all, knocking me down a level (7th floor remember?) and I'm perfectly happy with that.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Only 560 miles to go!
...including the actual marathon that is. The training program includes about 530 miles when all is said and done.
Hubs, are you awake? Can you feel your legs? Did you take the Advil like I told you? They say the first 4 miles are the hardest. After next week it'll be a breeze. I swear.
I am SO EXCITED and a little taken aback. After years and years and years I decided that this was my year. My year to commit to running a marathon. Bajillions of people do it but I've always put it off. I've been running for almost 20 years but I've nevereverever challenged myself even in a measly 5k, much less a marathon! So this year, when Laur was polling everyone to see whether she should do it, I made the decision that I would do it with her--and Anna. And I think Deb too. See? everyone does it. But the reason I'm excited is because when I asked Matt what he thought about it, he unflinchingly said, "Go for it". Of course he did, he's supportive of everything I do.
I have no idea how it was brought up but he said he'd do it too. WHAT?! "Are you serious? You mean really? You'd sign up and train and run and go up there with me and you'd RUN THE MARATHON?" He said 'yeah, I would' and the next day (yesterday) he went to Target and bought a pair of sweatpants. He put them on and three sweatshirts and just like that went running for the first time in almost 20 years--and he ran 2 miles. He also ran 2 miles on the treadmill tonight. I took this picture after he passed out while talking to me about how his legs were so sore from yesterday he couldn't walk. He said he could have gone farther on the treadmill tonight but he couldn't feel his legs, they were numb. But he did it!
This is HUGE. As long as I've been running, he has never been a part of that part of my life. To have him suddenly involved is nearly unbelievable. Plus I'm so happy that his heart will get a work out. Maybe his BP will even go down a bit. And most of all, maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to get away and go for some of these training runs together. Ooooooh I'm practically giddy.
Wish us luck!
Hubs, are you awake? Can you feel your legs? Did you take the Advil like I told you? They say the first 4 miles are the hardest. After next week it'll be a breeze. I swear.
I am SO EXCITED and a little taken aback. After years and years and years I decided that this was my year. My year to commit to running a marathon. Bajillions of people do it but I've always put it off. I've been running for almost 20 years but I've nevereverever challenged myself even in a measly 5k, much less a marathon! So this year, when Laur was polling everyone to see whether she should do it, I made the decision that I would do it with her--and Anna. And I think Deb too. See? everyone does it. But the reason I'm excited is because when I asked Matt what he thought about it, he unflinchingly said, "Go for it". Of course he did, he's supportive of everything I do.
I have no idea how it was brought up but he said he'd do it too. WHAT?! "Are you serious? You mean really? You'd sign up and train and run and go up there with me and you'd RUN THE MARATHON?" He said 'yeah, I would' and the next day (yesterday) he went to Target and bought a pair of sweatpants. He put them on and three sweatshirts and just like that went running for the first time in almost 20 years--and he ran 2 miles. He also ran 2 miles on the treadmill tonight. I took this picture after he passed out while talking to me about how his legs were so sore from yesterday he couldn't walk. He said he could have gone farther on the treadmill tonight but he couldn't feel his legs, they were numb. But he did it!
This is HUGE. As long as I've been running, he has never been a part of that part of my life. To have him suddenly involved is nearly unbelievable. Plus I'm so happy that his heart will get a work out. Maybe his BP will even go down a bit. And most of all, maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to get away and go for some of these training runs together. Ooooooh I'm practically giddy.
Wish us luck!
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
A Uninvited Visitor Will Come Tonight
As I pulled into the circular marked drive behind three big orange school buses to pick Gabby up from kindergarten today, I had no idea that I was about to experience that moment when I could actually envision her graduating, moving away, getting married and having babies of her own. That moment when I would truly know that no matter how many birthdays go by and I tell her "ok, that's enough now, you can stop at 5, just stop growing please, thank you, I love you" she'll go on to have another and another and another.
I no sooner dashed across the crosswalk, in between the two buses, scooped her up in my arms and began walking back to the truck when she beamed with a different kind of twinkle in her eye, "Mommy, today was a really special day for me at school..." I thought she was going to say she was the 'milk helper' with her best friend Rosie (major deal) or line leader yet again for being such a good example for the other kids! I was not expecting nor can I yet accept the real reason for her pride:
...but I'll accept it, take it with all the rest, just like Polly changing from calling Anabella "Bea Bea" to a very grown-up and pronounced "BEL-LA" emphasis on the "LL"s, just like I have to accept that Polly figured out how to escape her cribby--and all this in the last week...just like I have to accept that Bella will soon grow out of her Disney princess phase much the same as Gabby and graduate to more sophisticated things like digital cameras and make-ups...just like I have to accept that my little Bubbyman would rather help his daddy go to the "daddy store" than make cookies with me.
And tooth fairy? If you're listening, fine, you can come, but I've got my eye on you lady...and please if you would pass along a message to Santa that he's not off the hook for at LEAST another 10 years. Or so.
I no sooner dashed across the crosswalk, in between the two buses, scooped her up in my arms and began walking back to the truck when she beamed with a different kind of twinkle in her eye, "Mommy, today was a really special day for me at school..." I thought she was going to say she was the 'milk helper' with her best friend Rosie (major deal) or line leader yet again for being such a good example for the other kids! I was not expecting nor can I yet accept the real reason for her pride:
...but I'll accept it, take it with all the rest, just like Polly changing from calling Anabella "Bea Bea" to a very grown-up and pronounced "BEL-LA" emphasis on the "LL"s, just like I have to accept that Polly figured out how to escape her cribby--and all this in the last week...just like I have to accept that Bella will soon grow out of her Disney princess phase much the same as Gabby and graduate to more sophisticated things like digital cameras and make-ups...just like I have to accept that my little Bubbyman would rather help his daddy go to the "daddy store" than make cookies with me.
And tooth fairy? If you're listening, fine, you can come, but I've got my eye on you lady...and please if you would pass along a message to Santa that he's not off the hook for at LEAST another 10 years. Or so.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
First Day of School
My first baby had her first day of school on the first Tuesday in September. It was the first time I cried at the thought of her growing up and having a billion more firsts. But she didn't see me, I choked it back because she was so excited and I didn't want her worrying.
Many blessings have already found their way into this new chapter. We happened to walk in at the same time as a friend and her daughter. Gabby was walked to her classroom with this little girl who is now officially Gabby's friend. All week they sat next to one another. Gabby asked me the second day, "Momma, if I want her to be my friend should I ask her to be my friend or my cousin?" Since her cousins=her best friends, she just wanted clarification on the proper term to use. She got to be the teacher's helper on the first day and was so proud. Incidentally, the teacher has the same last name as us so it's another nice familiar thing for her (Matt's cousin). She is doing beautifully, I knew she would. Still, she is my first. She'll always be.
I didn't think I'd be the cliche Kindergarten Mommy but I was. How could I not have been given this scene? Your complimentary hankies are in the mail.
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Monday, June 16, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Crazy Urges
Laura "tagged" me to put together a list of weird/freakish/nonsociallyacceptable/andevensomeregularones urges I may have had or now have.
This is my First Meme. Ever. I hate that word 'meme', by the way, so my first urge would be to magically send, to whomever coined the phrase, all of the Asian beetles that infest my home every Spring/Fall never to reappear at mine.
I'm not very spontaneous but here goes:
1. Have my husband sedated while I systematically extract every last particle from his pores (thanks for the reminder Ann)
2. Cut my hair short, like, really short, think Posh Spice of late (thanks Laur for the reminder on this puppy)
3. Adopt children, lots and lots of needy children
4. Win a Food Network challenge/open a candy shop
5. Sing on stage somewhere
6. Have Matt quit his job, get a job as a patent attorney in Europe and relocate for a year; have a nice little hobby farm over there so Matt doesn't get bored
7. Run for public office
8. Rip out my oven and perform a "Damn it feels good to be a gangsta" on it a la "Office Space"
9. Buy 100 acres surrounding our home and become an expert at training/boarding horses
10. Spend the next year figuring out the exact formula of the now retired vanilla laffy taffy as well as Abdallah caramel (then sell them in my candy shop)
You happy? Now come fold my laundry because that is what I was avoiding in order to provide you with this sensational information.
This is my First Meme. Ever. I hate that word 'meme', by the way, so my first urge would be to magically send, to whomever coined the phrase, all of the Asian beetles that infest my home every Spring/Fall never to reappear at mine.
I'm not very spontaneous but here goes:
1. Have my husband sedated while I systematically extract every last particle from his pores (thanks for the reminder Ann)
2. Cut my hair short, like, really short, think Posh Spice of late (thanks Laur for the reminder on this puppy)
3. Adopt children, lots and lots of needy children
4. Win a Food Network challenge/open a candy shop
5. Sing on stage somewhere
6. Have Matt quit his job, get a job as a patent attorney in Europe and relocate for a year; have a nice little hobby farm over there so Matt doesn't get bored
7. Run for public office
8. Rip out my oven and perform a "Damn it feels good to be a gangsta" on it a la "Office Space"
9. Buy 100 acres surrounding our home and become an expert at training/boarding horses
10. Spend the next year figuring out the exact formula of the now retired vanilla laffy taffy as well as Abdallah caramel (then sell them in my candy shop)
You happy? Now come fold my laundry because that is what I was avoiding in order to provide you with this sensational information.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hal-lay-eh-lou-YAAAAAH!
I promised the twins that if they started going potty on the potty and stopped wearing diapies-FOREVER, they would each get a bike. Truth be told, I would have promised them cars, money, expensive clothing, condos on the ocean...... Bella was well on her way to becoming fully trained and on Saturday she finally made the last strides to ending a 3 year co-dependent relationship with Huggies. I dutifully went into my secret storage room and brought out da da da da, a tricycle I'd been saving for her.
Wyatt, unlike his sister, would have NOTHING to do with the potty even as early as last Saturday. But remember, I gave Bella her trike. He saw it. He went to his room. He came out wearing the little man underpants I had purchased months and months ago (dreaming of this day). He hasn't worn a dipe since.
I think Handel had this very situation in mind while he was composing his famous tune.
The End. Of the diapers, that is. Well, for these two hooligans.
Wyatt, unlike his sister, would have NOTHING to do with the potty even as early as last Saturday. But remember, I gave Bella her trike. He saw it. He went to his room. He came out wearing the little man underpants I had purchased months and months ago (dreaming of this day). He hasn't worn a dipe since.
I think Handel had this very situation in mind while he was composing his famous tune.
The End. Of the diapers, that is. Well, for these two hooligans.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
We Made it to 3!
The birthday party was fun with a house full of kids as usual. As I mentioned earlier we celebrated Mari's and Johnny's 2nd at the same time. The cousins are playing so well together lately that the chaos has subdued somewhat. I say somewhat because the pinata always causes quite a ruckus when the mad scramble to score the most sweet treats occurs.
Auntie Rachie and Uncle Billy were here and Wyatt showed Rachie how old he is now. He's been practicing. Bella told me for at least 2 weeks before her birthday that she was "ALREADY THREEEEEE!" whenever I would tell her that her birthday party was coming. She thought she was already three because she could do the three on her fingers. Makes sense. To a 3 yr. old.
Auntie Anna stopped by as well and got her fix of snuggles-quitting the kids cold turkey (moving out) while it has its obvious perks, also tends to cause snuggle withdrawal.
Wyatt is really into trucks and vehicles that move things, mainly big things like big piles of dirt and such. Bella is interested in princess anything and dolls. So opening presents was pure joy for both of them. Wyatt drove his trucks around the kitchen floor for a week solid after the party.
These two are interacting with each other more and learning that it is more fun play together than to scream like banshees when the other takes a toy away (okay, I said learning, it's a work in progress). They still get into things together but it's usually pretty innocent, like jumping off the stairs and "torturing" the kitty together by pretending the cat is their baby.
I firmly believe that there is hope yet that they will be best buddies as they continue to get older. I still think Wyatt will protect his "little" sister from any impending harm and I envision them one day looking at pictures like these and thinking the same thing that I do: "Yep, this is true love".
Friday, February 29, 2008
That's Auntie Nina to you, Thomas
Laura had her baby! You can read the announcement I posted on her blog while she was still in the hospital, here.
I took my brood to visit and Nellie and Pete were there with all of their littles as well as all of Laura's kids.
Nellie took a picture of everyone in Laura's hospital room. The picture strikes me as hilarious because you can hardly find Thomas--I call the photo, "Where's Waldo". See if you can find the little buggar.
I swear that day at the hospital I got more "wow, you have your hands FULL"s" than I ever have. I only had my kids but we must look like quite the crew all together. One nurse said the kids were like little "steps". As we were leaving another guy said, "all you need is 2 more". Which is funny because I don't know what he meant. Half dozen?
Baby Thomas is one of SEVERAL birthdays we have in the family at this time of year. We're celebrating tomorrow for all of the birthdays: Mari, Butch, my twins, and Johnny. We'll have a big 'ol party at my house. It is the twins' actual birthday tomorrow, they'll be three. I'll be sure to document the event and provide you with all of the cake infused details.
I took my brood to visit and Nellie and Pete were there with all of their littles as well as all of Laura's kids.
Nellie took a picture of everyone in Laura's hospital room. The picture strikes me as hilarious because you can hardly find Thomas--I call the photo, "Where's Waldo". See if you can find the little buggar.
I swear that day at the hospital I got more "wow, you have your hands FULL"s" than I ever have. I only had my kids but we must look like quite the crew all together. One nurse said the kids were like little "steps". As we were leaving another guy said, "all you need is 2 more". Which is funny because I don't know what he meant. Half dozen?
Baby Thomas is one of SEVERAL birthdays we have in the family at this time of year. We're celebrating tomorrow for all of the birthdays: Mari, Butch, my twins, and Johnny. We'll have a big 'ol party at my house. It is the twins' actual birthday tomorrow, they'll be three. I'll be sure to document the event and provide you with all of the cake infused details.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
My Boy
As promised, here we have the boy. I call him my main squeeze man. No offense to Daddy, who is quite a standup guy himself but this, my friends, is Bubby we are talking about. This is the one boy in the sea of baby girls. This is the reason for the twactos and twucks and twains and wace cows. This big man is our reason for not falling completely off a cliff of pink and purple princess paraphernalia.
As he is getting older, I am learning more and more what it means to raise a boy. And I love it. My absolute, hands-down, no question favorite thing about a boy is that thing they do when they are lying on the floor with a truck or car or wheeled vehicle and they "broom" it back and forth.
I could die. The innocence of it melts my heart into goo. I took some pictures of the Bubbyman the other day while he was wearing his "Papa shirt". A Papa shirt is, duh, a button-up flannel looking shirt, like his Papa (my dad) wears. One day out of the clear blue he told me he wanted to wear a Papa shirt. I figured out in a quick hurry what he meant. Since he only has two such Papa shirts, I have to keep them clean in case of a Papa shirt emergency, for example if we plan to visit Papa--a sure Papa shirt wearing event.
Another of Wyatt's specialties is his pure love for his sisters and his special attention to Polly. He loves that girl even when she gouges half his face off with her chubby little fingers. He still manages to kiss her goodnight every night. And oh what kisses they are. Ask Auntie Anna, Wyatt kisses are incredible kisses.
He puckers up those Bubby lips and lingers a little so you get the full effect of his smooch. There does not seem to be a single way on this green earth that he will ever kiss anyone but his mommy and sisters and aunties, I'll see to it. A mother has rights.Wyatt has also become infatuated with books and with counting. He tries to make me read him a book a minimum of 3 times before he goes to bed. And then he is sure to keep the book with him in bed. He has also been known to take cars, trucks, tractors, chapstick (he does have 3 sisters) and other various treasures to bed with him. He sleeps in a toddler sized bed but I'm thinking that my big man will be ready for a twin bed very soon. Wyatt's mass always makes for good conversation with my brothers during family holiday gatherings. "Nick, LIFT him once, he's huge". "How much does he weigh?" It's not that he is bigger than the average almost 3 yr. old but he's solid. I tell him to say "I'm tough stuff" but it is kind of silly because when I'm around, he's too much of a momma boy to really mean it.
Which leads me to my confession. Despite my wish that he become even 1/2 the man his daddy is, and despite his daddy trying to toughen him up, I tend to "baby" him. It's hard to know the right measure of coddle and discipline for a boy. In general he is a really good boy. Especially for daddy. He is sweet, loving, kind, helpful (his new favorite thing is retrieving things for me and daddy, he LOVES to help and is so proud when we thank him), thoughtful, playful and boyful. The feminists have it so wrong, boys are not the same as girls. And oh am I happy they are not. For if they were, I'd never get to experience this.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
More Pictures of the Girls
Jessica posted more pictures from the model session of Gabby and Bella, you can view it here.
And in case you were thinking that the brother has been slighted recently, coming soon is post of my main squeeze man, aka Bubby, Wy, Bubs, Big Squeeze.
And in case you were thinking that the brother has been slighted recently, coming soon is post of my main squeeze man, aka Bubby, Wy, Bubs, Big Squeeze.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Thanks, Mom, for Life
As a little girl, one of my earliest clear memories (I have a terrible memory and can't recall things nearly as vividly as my sister) is of making the corsages every Mother's Day with the local prolife ladies of the church. I believe the corsage proceeds went to MCCL (Minnesota Citizens Concerned for Life) which at the time was just one of thousands of grass roots groups dedicated relentlessly, selflessly and lovingly to the cause of the unborn.
Near as I can tell, many of the children and grandchildren of those women still assemble in the local church halls (I did myself again just a few years ago at St. Albert's Parish Center) neatly and handily wrapping green floral paper around little carnations, making sure to include a button with a message, and packing them up to be sold for a small fee to the moms attending mass the following day.
I'm not sure whether every year carried the exact same message but the one I remember and the one I am thinking about today is, "Thanks Mom, for Life".
The depth of the sorrow one must inevitably face when thinking of the millions and millions of babies who never were allowed the chance to utter those words is staggering. And heartbreaking. The gut wrenching agony one feels when trying to imagine the awful circumstances which would lead one girl, let alone millions, to allow a helpless baby to be broken into pieces and thrown away is nearly unbearable.
But the march for life continues in the face of this unspeakable tragedy. And the message has always been that we must speak for the unborn. And so we do. And so today, on the eve of the anniversary of a decision made in one of the lowest moments of the highest Court in our land, we speak for the unborn when we say to those who pray and work for an end to abortion, "Thanks Moms and Dads and Sons and Daughters for never forgetting our Lives".
"...but I feel the greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion, because it is a direct war, a direct killing - direct murder by the mother herself. And we read in the Scripture, for God says very clearly: Even if a mother could forget her child - I will not forget you - I have carved you in the palm of my hand. We are carved in the palm of His hand, so close to Him that unborn child has been carved in the hand of God. And that is what strikes me most, the beginning of that sentence, that even if a mother could forget something impossible - but even if she could forget - I will not forget you. And today the greatest means - the greatest destroyer of peace is abortion. And we who are standing here - our parents wanted us. We would not be here if our parents would do that to us. Our children, we want them, we love them, but what of the millions. Many people are very, very concerned with the children in India, with the children in Africa where quite a number die, maybe of malnutrition, of hunger and so on, but millions are dying deliberately by the will of the mother. And this is what is the greatest destroyer of peace today. Because if a mother can kill her own child - what is left for me to kill you and you kill me - there is nothing between."
-Mother Teresa, Nobel Lecture, 11 December, 1979
"I know in my heart that man is good. That what is right will always eventually triumph. And there's purpose and worth to each and every life."
-Ronald Reagan, Simi Valley, California, November 4, 1991
Near as I can tell, many of the children and grandchildren of those women still assemble in the local church halls (I did myself again just a few years ago at St. Albert's Parish Center) neatly and handily wrapping green floral paper around little carnations, making sure to include a button with a message, and packing them up to be sold for a small fee to the moms attending mass the following day.
I'm not sure whether every year carried the exact same message but the one I remember and the one I am thinking about today is, "Thanks Mom, for Life".
The depth of the sorrow one must inevitably face when thinking of the millions and millions of babies who never were allowed the chance to utter those words is staggering. And heartbreaking. The gut wrenching agony one feels when trying to imagine the awful circumstances which would lead one girl, let alone millions, to allow a helpless baby to be broken into pieces and thrown away is nearly unbearable.
But the march for life continues in the face of this unspeakable tragedy. And the message has always been that we must speak for the unborn. And so we do. And so today, on the eve of the anniversary of a decision made in one of the lowest moments of the highest Court in our land, we speak for the unborn when we say to those who pray and work for an end to abortion, "Thanks Moms and Dads and Sons and Daughters for never forgetting our Lives".
"...but I feel the greatest destroyer of peace today is abortion, because it is a direct war, a direct killing - direct murder by the mother herself. And we read in the Scripture, for God says very clearly: Even if a mother could forget her child - I will not forget you - I have carved you in the palm of my hand. We are carved in the palm of His hand, so close to Him that unborn child has been carved in the hand of God. And that is what strikes me most, the beginning of that sentence, that even if a mother could forget something impossible - but even if she could forget - I will not forget you. And today the greatest means - the greatest destroyer of peace is abortion. And we who are standing here - our parents wanted us. We would not be here if our parents would do that to us. Our children, we want them, we love them, but what of the millions. Many people are very, very concerned with the children in India, with the children in Africa where quite a number die, maybe of malnutrition, of hunger and so on, but millions are dying deliberately by the will of the mother. And this is what is the greatest destroyer of peace today. Because if a mother can kill her own child - what is left for me to kill you and you kill me - there is nothing between."
-Mother Teresa, Nobel Lecture, 11 December, 1979
"I know in my heart that man is good. That what is right will always eventually triumph. And there's purpose and worth to each and every life."
-Ronald Reagan, Simi Valley, California, November 4, 1991
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Sisters
One night several weeks ago I surprised the big girls with a special tea party. Wyatt and Polly were already in bed and the squirrels, I mean girls were still monkeying around trying to stay awake. So, rather than bring my message of doom and gloom "it's time for bed", I cut up some apples, found a sinfully delicious jar of caramel, made up some tea and headed down with the breakfast-in-bed tray which Gabby thinks is so quaint she is giddy whenever I pull it out. I told them we were going to have a tea party RIGHT THERE in the bedroom and it was all they could do to suppress their joy. They were thrilled. When we sat down I casually asked them what they wanted to talk about. Gabby was even more elated at the thought of having her mama's undivided attention that she could hardly think of anything. We managed to find some proper tea party subject matter and the girls did not want this special treat to end. My favorite part of the tea was when Gabby unthinking reached over to place Bella's falling dress strap in its proper place. It was so sweet. And so sisterly. It was at that moment that I realized the bond I had been hoping for already existed.
Lately Gabby is always wanting to include Bella in our Big Girl plans. I think ever since our trip to Milwaukee she understands that Bella is less of a needy baby and more of a playmate. We're going to have some pictures taken of Gabby tomorrow and I can't even count how many times Gabby has asked if Bella can come and if Bella can get her pictures taken too because "Mommy, she has just the most sparkly blue eyes." She also wanted Bella to come along on our shopping adventure today for the sole reason that she knew Bella wanted to be one of us.
Right at the time we were planning to try for another baby, I began praying for a little girl. Oh sure I also knew my life wouldn't be complete without a little Matt one day but in order that Gabby could have a sister two years younger, just like me and my sister, I prayed for another girly for the next one. I wanted a sister for her so much it almost hurt. I tell people that the reason I had twins was because Wyatt came into being first but God couldn't ignore my pleas for a girl so He gave me the "oh, yeah, you want a girl so bad?" and BAM, twins.
I got what I wanted. And then some.
PS You're right Big Sister, they are awfully sparkly.
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