The Grace of Survival

[Happy Easter, everyone! Somehow this got backlogged and I never knew it was up at Phases....here it is, better late than never, in any case.]

Be calm, infinitely calm, both in soul and in body. Do not attempt too much, but what you do, do well and gently. Quality first, but good quality. Follow grace in souls; take its step.
~Dom Augustin Guillerand, O. Cart

As the New Year began, my husband headed out of town for four days–he was off on a yearly silent retreat– while I stayed home with our two sons, ages three and one. I was just barely on the recovery end of an exhausting few weeks of whole-family illness. I knew that if I set unreasonable goals for our home-on-our-own-days, I would end up being an impatient, uncharitable, and downright unpleasant mommy. So I decided to keep things simple. While my husband was gone I planned to accomplish... nothing. The bar of cleanliness, order, and efficiency would be lowered to the level of basic survival... Read the rest here!

Ends and beginnings

What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make and end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.
(from T.S. Eliot's poem "The Four Quartets")

On Sunday afternoon I took a spade to the Virginia clay to the garden in front of Antonia's house, and in four or five quick thrusts I uprooted a cluster of lavendar. The plant's silver-green leaves shook the fragrance of memory into the spring air; I hoisted it by the roots into the dark trunk of my car. "In France they grow this by the field-full," she laughed, remembering a post-university adventure; I thought of my mother's garden.

Antonia had called me earlier in the day-- she, David, the triplets, and her mother are leaving for Slovakia on Wednesday, and they're packing, clearing out the house, and tying up loose ends. Most people in her situation would probably not give a second thought to their garden plants--but Antonia is not most people. She had planted her gardens from seed and couldn't bear the thought of abandoning them to their fate. As the sun sank towards evening, I churned up the rocky red soil in the front of my own house, carving out a new home for her lavendar, her daisies, her sage.

* * *

It is Holy Week, and it is spring. A good time for ends and beginnings, I think. Antonia's triplets--Bronte, Lukas, and Aiden--will first experience Slovakia as a world of beginnings: slowly-greening mountains, black gardens pierced by tentative sprouts, and flocks of wandering sheep punctuated by the bleats of newborn lambs. They will awake to their first Slovakian morning on Good Friday, when the Cross of Christ turns up the soil of our hearts, churning us out of our complacency, loosing the deep-rooted sins that snake through the soil of our lives. And then they will listen, watch, and pray (as much as one-and--a-half-year-olds can) at the triumphant Easter celebrations, when we revel in the verdant fullness of Christ's resurrected life and its promise to those who are faithful, who believe.

* * *
I am experiencing the peculiar yet familiar blend of gratitude and sadness that always seems to attend farewells; the fullness of relationship and the emptiness that physical distance brings. Let us continue to pray for this sweet family; I will let you know how things go with their house. (As of right now I believe they have raised about one quarter of the funds needed to build their house; help is still appreciated, I'm sure.)

A Call to Generosity and Sacrifice

Our late Holy Father John Paul II reminds us, in his Aposotolic Letter Mulieris dignitatem, that there is a constant link between motherhood and the Paschal mystery. We can think of Mary, as she presented her infant son in the Temple, full of the promise and joy and mystery that all babies bring. Before his birth she had carried him, the fruit of her womb, her very flesh, each day her body swelling tight around the life that grew ever-heavier within her. After Simeon's foreboding words that her own heart would be pierced by a sword, she certainly carried the weight of her Son's agony in her soul, each day bringing the inevitable Cross ever-nearer. The Cross will accompany us all as mothers--it is just a question of when, how, or to what degree.

Antonia Broadwell is one of us, a mother, who, like Mary, is bearing the Cross both in her heart and in her flesh. She is a parishioner at Our Lady of Hope, and a mother of triplets. Her husband David has appealed to us for help. Join us, the Our Lady of Hope Mom's Faith Formation group, in responding to their need, in helping carry her (and her family's) Cross, though our own generosity and sacrifices.

Update: Read Catholic Online's story "A Husband with the Heart of St. Joseph" to hear more about the Broadwell's journey.
I've already contacted David and Antonia to tell them to count on our group's efforts to raise them $2500 towards the construction of their home in Slovakia. If each mother in our group--surely there are 25 of us at least-- donates $100, we can reach this goal.

Yes, there are many other appeals for money at this time of year-- Lenten Appeals, Catholic Relief Services, Haiti disaster relief-- but may I suggest that this cause is different? David has termed their effort an "Amish Barn Raising" and I find his title very appropriate for us. There is a physical, incarnational reality to the fact that the Broadwells are part of our parish, neighbors living just down the street from us, to whom we can extend a neighborly helping hand.

Perhaps we gave all of our surplus to these other causes, and we have no "extra" funds left. May I suggest, then, giving sacrificially, particularly as Lent is coming up soon?

Some sacrifices to consider~

Could you...

• shave $25 off your grocery bill each week for a month, perhaps by fasting from juice, alcohol, coffee, sweets, meat, cereal, or magazines?
• go an extra month or two before getting your hair trimmed and donate the savings in the meantime?
  
• buy your next pair of jeans from a thrift store and donate what you would have spent?
• "dine in" on a night you might usually be inclined to go out, once or twice, and donate the cash to Antonia and David?
• plan a $100 cut in your summer vacation budget?
  

These are real sacrifices, but certainly relatively painless in the face of the true suffering of one of our own parish and neighborhood community.

If you feel called to donate to their cause, or help in any other way, please do the following:

1. Contact me at carlagaldo at gmail dot com with a) your name; b) your phone number; c) your donation amount (a "pledge" so I know how our group is doing in terms of the $2500 goal). Feel free to add your name in a comment here on my blog too, to let others know you are participating, although of course leave out the personal info and the donation amount, for privacy's sake.

2. Send your actual donation to David Broadwell at 5 Glengyle Lane, Potomac Falls, VA 20165. (I won't be collecting the funds myself--I think it is just simpler and more direct this way, as they need the funds ASAP for their move at the end of March.)

Anyone else outside of the OLOH community is more than welcome to contribute to the cause too, of course!

You can follow their story and see others who are helping the family at http://www.forantonia.wordpress.com/

A few more pictures that David sent me, pre-diagnosis--

Book Nook: St. George and the Dragon

Truth be told, I had been trying to avoid the knightly stories and legends until later. At the tender age of 3.5, I doubted that Gabriel could discern the difference between inappropriate and uncalled-for violence and force used in honorable defense of a just cause. Plus, I just didn’t want to fuel the mischievous fire of using sticks, poles, brooms, or any other as long pointed objects as tools for recreational poking of younger brothers.

But Gabriel kept coming upon knights anyway– a plastic castle play set, and exhibit of armor in the National Gallery, books he found on his own in the library– and I think he was getting the idea that they were just plain “bad” because every time he played knight (which entailed poking people or things inappropriately) I curtailed or redirected his fun. And he kept playing knight anyway. So, rather than have him play “bad” knight, I thought it better to fuel his imagination with some “good” knight stories.

So I caved and during “G” week we talked about St. George (a possibly mythological Catholic saint, but useful for teaching purposes nonetheless), and read this beautiful, Caldecott-medal winning picture book that dwells in the realm of myth most certainly. Written by Margaret Hodges and illustrated by Trina Schart Hyman, it is a retelling of a portion of Edmund Spenser’s Faerie Queene (about which I know quite little other than what is in this book).

Not only did Gabriel love this book, it was beautifully written, with rich, descriptive language and illustrations that could serve as practically a full semester’s study in floral botany for an older child. Although the language was on first glance a bit above Gabriel's level, I try to read a bit above his comprehension level because I think he rises to the occasion. Plus, I've noticed him using similes and metaphors in his own speech and I think it is thanks to us reading books that are a bit more "advanced." This book had a similar aura of magic and allegorical possibilities that I appreciate so much in C.S. Lewis’ Narnia. George is led to the battle with the dragon by a princess named Una, who to me had slightly Marian overtones...

Now the travelers rode together, through wild woods and wildness, perils and dangers, to Una’s kingdom. The path they had to follow was straight and narrow, but not easy to see. Sometimes the Red Cross Knight [George] rode to far ahead of Una and lost his way. Then she had to find him and guide him back to the path. So they journeyed on. With Una by his side fair and faithful, no monster or giant could stand before the knight’s bright sword.

The battle between St. George and the dragon is a bit grisly– do read the book ahead of time if you’re not sure about age-appropriateness of dragon’s tails gushing a bit of blood and a slightly wounded St. George lying almost-defeated before the last day of his battle). Although the battle is kind of intense, it leads to a Baptism-like moment when a near-to-death St. George falls into an “ancient spring of silvery water” that heals him, such that he is able to rise with the sun to face the dragon again the next morning.

I hesitated to introduce this book to Gabriel–it’s kind of a confusing mix of fairytale, myth, true virtue, and the concept of sainthood–but this book deservedly captivated his imagination and enabled me to talk to him a bit about bravery and. The Loyola Kids Book of Saints has a great take on St. George– mythological or not, the story teaches us that with Christ we can bravely fight against the dragons in our lives–whether they be or problematic habits or behaviors of our own or evil that comes from outside. Less profound but still useful in our house was the fact that I can now say “Did St. George use his sword on the nice townspeople or against the mean dragon? Your brother is not a mean dragon...” ...and it's been (mostly) effective so far.

For some more lighthearted, not quite so advanced knight books, focusing on the “good knight” idea, try the Good Knight series and the Sir Small series. Neither are particularly beautiful nor profound, but for a little guy who's into knights, they help drive home the idea that knights can be honorable and good, and they are slightly humorous if read in with an attempted British accent.

Traditional Table Tuesday: Lacto-fermentation and my new favorite condiment

I'd like to introduce you all to my new favorite condiment... drumroll, please... Ginger Carrots, a.k.a. Pickled Ginger Carrots or Lacto-fermented Ginger Carrots. As strange as they sound, they are amazing, and really easy to make. You must try these!


I was inspired to make these carrots by reading Nourishing Traditions' explanation of the benefits of lacto-fermented vegetables, long a staple in many societies because the lactobacilli produced in this method of fermentation serve not only to preserve veggies, but also makes them more beneficial to the health of those who consume them. The lacto-fermented vegetable most people are familiar with is sauerkraut, although much of what we find canned or jarred nowadays lacks the beneficial lactobacilli that homemade sauerkraut contains because industrial processes kill it off. Lactobacilli and the lactic acid they produce help to promote healthy intestinal flora, much like the good bacteria we are familiar with in yogurt.

I thought I'd try these carrots after I wasn't much a fan of the sauerkraut I made. (The family loved the kraut, though I did not. Gabriel will enthusiastically eat a PBJ sandwich and sauerkraut--on the side, not on the sandwich--for lunch! Peter likes my lacto-fermented beets better than the sauerkraut, due to texture issues. Guess he's not the only baby like this!)

Here's the recipe, with some of my own notes added, based on that from Nourishing Traditions. These are a delicious accompaniment to so many things, including, but not limited to: Black Beans and Rice, Thai Coconut Fish Soup, Hummus and Avocado Sandwiches, the above-pictured "Garden Pitas" (layered with hummus, carrots, beets, and feta), Red Lentil soups and dals, Spinach & Cranberry salad, and other rich or spicy foods.

Ginger Carrots

4 cups grated carrots, very tightly packed
1 T. freshly grated ginger (use less if you're not sure you're a big ginger fan--it's strong)
1 T. sea salt
4 T. whey (if not available, use an additional 1 T. salt, although know it might be a bit salty for your taste--you can get whey by draining yogurt or buttermilk through cheesecloth, or, join a milk co-op like me and order a quart of it. Hey, if anyone is really excited about making this, I'll order you some whey myself!)

Mix all ingredients together in a large bowl or pot. Pound with a wooden pounder or meat hammer until the carrots release their juices, maybe about 10 minutes. Place in a quart-sized, wide-mouth mason jar and press down firmly so that the juices cover the carrots. The top of the carrots should be at least 1 inch below the top of the jar (they expand!). Cover tightly and leave at room temperature about 3 days before transferring to cold storage (the top shelf of your fridge).

Comp Lit 101, Preschool Style

Today as we sat down to read Gabriel's rest time book, Swimmy, by Leo Lionni, he looked up at me and said, "Mommy, I think when Swimmy meets the big bad salmon fish he is brave just like St. George is brave!" We had read swimmy a couple times, but we just read our book on St. George and the Dragon for the first time today. Guess he got the idea. Not bad for almost 3 and a half, I thought, anyway!

(We've been talking about virtues and good habits, and I was wondering if it was really worth it at this stage of the game, but I think if he can identify bravery in literary form, he can understand at least in a rudimentary way what we've been talking about for "G" week this week--"gratitude" both to others and to God, mostly by working on saying thank you.)

Slow Death by Rubber Duck

Heard these guys on the Diane Rhem Show on NPR today. (Here's a quick book review from the Post regarding the book as well.) The chemical folks claim BPA isn't harmful, but it sounds like the FDA is beginning to be "concerned" about it. Better safe than sorry, if it's not too hard to change, right? So I'm currently checking up on all my kitchen plastics--we've eliminated zip-lock bags for the most part, but I use 32-oz yogurt containers for freezing all my stock and extra soup. I am dismayed about the fact that there is BPA in the lining of ALL food industry cans (except the beans sold by Eden Organics)! We don't eat much canned food, but I do like getting canned tomatoes, tuna, and salmon. Sigh. I guess the bright side is that I'll be inspired to can my own tomatoes this summer--they sell tons of cheap, organic bruised tomatoes at our farmer's markets in the summer! I'm experimenting with alternatives to shampoo too; the experiment is on-going so I'll let you know how that goes after my hair goes through its "de-tox" days.
* * *
On a more philosophical note, Michael asked me the other day why changing our own lifestyle in little ways promotes what Pope Benedict XVI calls in his World Day of Peace Message "an authentic human ecology" that would "forcefully reaffirm the inviolability of human life at every stage" as well as promote a "respect for nature." I was reminded of his question when I heard the authors of the above-mentioned book discuss their investigation of the city of Parkersburg, WV, home to the Dupont Chemical plant that produces (yuck) Teflon. We stopped using Teflon a while back, and have (obviously) not knowingly purchased any cookware that is coated with the stuff since then. As I heard on the radio, there have been concerns that one of the most dangerous of the Teflon chemicals, known as C8 or PFOA (perfluorooctanic acid), has contaminated the air and drinking water near DuPont's plant, with all sorts of ramifications for the health of the citizens there--cancers, strange illnesses, etc. It hit me then again-- this isn't just about me, although I was thinking that it really was. There is a face, a person, suffering the consequences of the production of that Teflon cookware that I am consciously choosing not to purchase. I could be wrong, but I think I heard on the radio that they were moving to completely eliminate the production of Teflon...? Lots of individuals refusing to purchase such products has got to have something to do with that, at least, I hope so.

Traditional Table Tuesday ( a day late): Our Daily Bread

As I mentioned in my first post on our journey to becoming more “traditional” eaters, we would like most, if not all, of the foods that we purchase to be foods that mankind has been eating for thousands of years. This means eliminating from our cabinets packaged foods such as cereals, crackers, boxed cookies, frozen premade dinners, and highly processed breads.

Now, I grant that there are some delicious breads out there, from good bakeries, made with only fresh, traditional ingredients. I don’t even allow myself to browse at the Whole Foods Bakery, primarily because at $5-$8 a loaf, their breads just aren’t in our normal-everyday budget range, but also because I would probably drool on the cases and I know Peter and Gabriel would be begging to have some bread since they love the stuff!

At home, I can make my own bread with all organic ingredients and eat it fresh out of the oven for about $0.89, if I make my standby Whole Wheat Sourdough. My sourdough starter has been disappointing me lately, so at Michael’s request, I tweaked a 100% Whole Wheat bread recipe with conventional yeast, soaking the grains overnight to reduce their phytate content (what in the world is this, you ask? Read here or here to find out) and also to make mouth-wateringly fluffy bread and rolls.

The new conventional yeast recipe I’ve recently discovered, based pretty closely on a recipe from an awesome used-bookstore treasure, Cooking with Whole Grains by Ellen and Vrest Orton, costs me about $2.00. Again, I use all organic ingredients, but instead of water I use milk, butter, and honey, so that adds to the cost. However, a great frugal tip-- you can use milk that's past its prime for this loaf--yes, sour milk-- and honestly I think it tastes even better!

I have to tip my hat to my mother who facilitated my discovery of this great cookbook which has tons of old-fashioned, all 100% whole grain recipes! She passed along this fascinating article called The Mystery of the Mill, which is the introduction to the cookbook I referred to above. Anyone interested in the history of food and the industrial food system will be interested in reading this history of how white flour, although less nutritious, became the predominant flour of our American food system. (It’s all about the money, folks. Are we surprised?)


Here’s the recipe from Cooking With Wholegrains with my modifications:
Soaked Wholewheat Bread

12-24 hours before you wish to start rising the bread, put in a large bowl:
3 T. honey
3 T. butter

Pour over:
1 ½ cups warmed (but not boiled) milk
Stir until butter and honey are melted.
Add:
½ cup buttermilk or yogurt
5 ½ cups flour

Stir until well mixed. Let stand covered in a warm place until you are ready to start the rising process. I usually do this step ( the “soaking” step) the night before, and start my rising process in the morning.

Mix together and allow to proof:
2 1/4 tsp commercial yeast
1/4 cup warm water
1 tsp sugar or honey Mix this into your bread. (I used the bread hook on my Kitchen Aid with much success.)
Once it’s mostly incorporated, mix in:
2 tsp salt

Knead it for a bit, then set in a well-oiled, covered bowl to double in bulk. You’ll be allowing this doubling four times. Once it’s doubled–about an hour, but sometimes a bit more the first time–punch down the dough, and fold the dough from the sides to the center until it is about turned over, and let rise until doubled again. After the fourth time, turn the dough out onto a floured board and knead for a minute or so until it seems firm. Cut off about a third of it, leaving about 2 lbs. of dough for a loaf and about 14 oz. of dough for a couple dinner rolls. Alternately, you could make 2 loaves. After cutting the dough knead it a minute or so more, shape, and place in your bead pan. Let rise in the pan until about doubled–don’t let it over-rise, so keep a close eye on it, then place in a pre-heated oven at 425 for 15 minutes, then lower to 375 and bake for 20 minutes longer, maybe 45 minutes in all. You may need to "tent" the bread with some foil to keep the top from browning too much.

Weekend Book Nook: Paddle-to-the-Sea

“Hmmf. Good book,” remarked the bearded, not-all-that-friendly-looking, middle-aged librarian as I checked out this book with its companion 70's-produced DVD. It’s not all that often that even the chatty, friendly, lady-librarians remark on my book choices, so when our silent male librarian behind the checkout desk shared his approval of Paddle-to-the-Sea, I had an inkling that this was a good boy-book. I discovered it by chance, by typing the word “creek” into my library system’s card catalog. We read it back in the fall, during “C” week, when we were investigating creeks and ponds. Paddle-to-the-Sea is a small wooden Indian carved one winter by a Native American Indian boy in the snowy mountains of Canada. The boy sets him on the edge of a snowbank to wait for spring, and when the snow melts into the creeks, Paddle begins his journey. He makes his way to the sea by way of rivers, the Great Lakes, and the helping hands of some friends he meets along the way, including fishermen, children, and lighthouse keeper.

The illustrations are vivid and detailed–I think this is why the book engaged my son even though it had a full page of text for each vignette of Paddle’s journey. He was fascinated (of course) by the forest fire scenes, as well as the depictions of the industries and pasttimes one encounters along the river and lakes (logging, fishing, the Coast Guard, lighthouse keeping, etc.) The book puts flesh and bones to geography and natural science with maps of Paddle’s journey, as well as explanations of how water travels to the sea, and beautiful pictures of the various ecosystems he encountered. The characters Paddle meets along the way, and their jobs would make a great mini-unit on Canadian and North-Eastern American social studies.

As I mentioned, there is a short film based on the movie, which can be found in DVD form. We enjoyed it, although it was definitely a get-it-at-the-library kind of thing, not something I would say was so great that we’d want to purchase it. That being said, it seems as though Paddle has something of a cult-following (in the lightest meaning of the term), given that there are...yes... facebook groups dedicated to him. Guess I found a good one, eh? :)

* * *
Also on my grown-up bookshelf this weekend:

Fire Within:St Theresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross by Thomas Dubay... I've only read the intro so I'll have to save any detailed thoughts on it for later.

Deciphering Gabriel

Intense, physical, squirmy, imaginative, verbal, sweet, boyish, and loud: my three-year-old son is all these and more. He is my first baby-turned-child, the first little person I am accompanying on the complicated journey of figuring out how to dwell in the world. Gabriel barrels through each stage of growth like a snowplow, strewing in jumbled heaps everything I thought I knew about both him and myself. When he was just over a year old... (Read the rest here!)

101 uses for junk mail...

Maybe it was the pounding sinuses and the fever that weakened my defenses...whatever the case, 3:30pm this afternoon found me in a living room strewn with dried pine needles from the Christmas tree I had just dragged out the front door, pitching wadded up balls of junk mail to a plastic-bat wielding three year old, while my one year old gleefully threw his own stash of discarded junk mail into the front hall toilet. I should have been vacuuming, but that wouldn't have been half as fun. :)

Traditional Table Tuesday: Why Food Matters

On holy milk

From virgin nurse the Boy God feeds;
This miracle all else exceeds.
The One to whom all owe their lives
On food from someone else survives.
O peerless wonder! See him thrive
On fleshly food who keeps alive

the flesh.

(From a poem featured in the Magnificat on January 1, celebrating Mary the Mother of God.)

Over the past months, and years, really, I have been trying to get to the root of why food is not incidental to those who live a life of faith. Food isn’t just a neutral factor in our lives, something just to be consumed without thought, a topic that hovers on the margins of the life of faith but never really enters in. Why? So many reasons come to mind. I’ll just get started with one. The One to whom all owe their lives/ On food from someone else survives. These simple lines reveal two simple truths:

1) Christ ate.
He who shares all in common with us (except for sin, of course) ate, and in so doing, he incorporated the act of eating into the eternal Trinity. Kind of blows you away, doesn’t? God not only made the world, but entered into it, and entered into it all the way, made it a part of himself in the most basic way possible.

2) Food comes from.
Even the completely self-sufficient farmer (and perhaps the self-sufficient farmer is more greatly aware of this) exists in a relationship of reception. For him, food comes from the earth, from his animals, from the good graces of a Creator who has set the world up to be responsive to his labor. For most of the rest of us non-farmer types, food “comes from” in an even more radical way. Food comes from the farmer, from the field laborer, from the trucker, from the butcher, from the supermarket shelf-stocker, and finally, from whomever it is who prepares it for us. What does all this mean? It means that food comes from someone. Thus, food establishes relationships. This basic fact is beautifully illustrated by the infant who must be fed; the entire survival of the infant is completely dependent upon being in relationship with someone who will feed, someone from whom food will come.

These days it is easy to forget that food comes from. We could potentially enter a supermarket, purchase some shrink-wrapped, pre-made frozen food, swipe through a self-checkout aisle, and breeze out of the store, without a word to another human being. No one to thank, no one to even acknowledge.

Looking at these two points together, we see that in eating, Christ entered into relationships. The first and most basic we see in the poem–nursing put him in relationship with his mother Mary (and through her, with all of created humanity). We can only guess at the web of relationships that the Holy Family entered into in order to obtain their food, but I would guess that they were probably not self-sufficient farmers if Joseph and Jesus worked as carpenters. They probably raised part of their own food and traded for part of it. In any case, I doubt that Christ or the Holy Family entered into exploitative relationships in order to obtain the food they ate. Granted, it was a very different time in history, but I am certain there were those who were exploited by the commercial system of the day. All this has convinced me that I need to think hard about the relationships that are established by the food that my family purchases. Am I doing my best to make sure that I am not exploiting others just to get a lot of something cheap, when I could pay more or go to some small amount of trouble to be more respectful of those who are bringing my food to me?

I know there is so much suffering that is invisible to me, suffering that I take for granted on a daily basis, but the suffering of agricultural workers is something that will probably always be present to me. I was blessed by the opportunity to meet and work with a handful of the Mexican migrant workers who pick the apples for our Virginia applesauce and the grapes for our classy Virginia wines. I see their faces when I pay more for the organic produce I purchase, when I chose to get our summer produce from Amish family farms by joining a summer CSA. Most vividly, I see Lupita’s face–she was young, she was my best student, and she and her husband worked in a vineyard. They had constant rashes from the sprays that irritated their arms as they picked the grapes, and although they wished for children, were having a lot of trouble conceiving and wondered why. Although I will never know for sure, I often wondered if the level of chemicals Lupita was exposed to had something to do with their fertility issues.

Our “traditional table” has a lot more to it than just the conventional/organic issue, and certainly, there are nutritional and health benefits to organic foods as well, but honestly, for me, those have always been the icing on the cake, as it were. To me, it is more about the people, more about the social and commercial structures that I am supporting with my food dollar, although it’s nice to know that there’s less toxic chemicals building up in my family’s bodies as well.

Simple Woman’s Daybook, January 4, 2010

Outside My Window...
It’s probably still icy cold. Yesterday I put the OJ outside on the deck to keep it cool; in the morning it was a block of ice!

I am thinking...
About traditional foods and all the things there are to write and say about them.

I am thankful for...
Time to be a family.

From the kitchen...
Monday: French Toast Casserole, Homemade pitas and hummous with ginger carrots, leftover chicken and veggies, and freshly baked bread with a (tweaked) recipe from my new cookbook Cooking with Whole Grains– I’ll share if it works out!
Tuesday: Red Lentil Soup with Lime
Wednesday: Leftovers
Thursday: Spaghetti and meatballs
Friday: Tuna melts
Saturday: We’ll be at my Mom’s enjoying her delicious cooking!
Sunday: Something with our grass-raised lamb from our Winter CSA with Moutoux Orchards

I am wearing...
PJ’s, still. Snuck upstairs while Michael was with the little guys.

I am going...
To the Air and Space Museum today! We promised Gabriel, our Apollo 11 fan, a Christmas trip there again, just like last year.

I am hearing...
Michael and the boys downstairs.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week:
• Michael goes on retreat Wednesday through Sunday with his wonderful community; I need to brace myself for the alone time with two energetic little boys!
• I’ll pick up our casual “school time” again next week... which means I need to figure out which letter of the alphabet we’re on, request some books from the library, and plan a saint and some fun activities to go with it.
• My New Year’s resolution–part I– I’m going to read through Simplifying your Domestic Church, make photocopies of the blank forms, and choose some areas to start simplifying!
• New Year’s resolution part II– Once that is sufficiently done, maybe in a couple months, I’m going to start actually thinking about decorating our new home. That will be in a while, though, as Michael won’t be able to help out until summer.
• Michael and I will start reading Hold on to Your Kids and Raising Your Spirited Child together. Gabriel has been incredibly challenging during Christmas and we’re at our wits’ end. Literally.

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

Our little Peter, not so little anymore!



(For more, similar daybooks, see http://thesimplewoman.blogspot.com/)

Another newbie for 2010: The Weekend Book Nook

"By inner necessity, the search for God demands a culture of the word or – as Jean Leclercq put it: eschatology and grammar are intimately connected with one another in Western monasticism (cf. L’amour des lettres et le désir de Dieu). The longing for God, the désir de Dieu, includes amour des lettres, love of the word, exploration of all its dimensions. Because in the biblical word God comes towards us and we towards him, we must learn to penetrate the secret of language..."

"Thus it is through the search for God that the secular sciences take on their importance, sciences which show us the path towards language. Because the search for God required the culture of the word, it was appropriate that the monastery should have a library, pointing out pathways to the word. It was also appropriate to have a school, in which these pathways could be opened up. Benedict calls the monastery a dominici servitii schola. The monastery serves eruditio, the formation and education of man – a formation whose ultimate aim is that man should learn how to serve God. But it also includes the formation of reason – education – through which man learns to perceive, in the midst of words, the Word itself."

(From Pope Benedict's speech to representatives of the world of culture in France on September 12, 2008)

Pope Benedict offers an idea that speaks to all bibliophiles who always knew that there was something more to their love affair with books. We are drawn to books–good books, books that reveal the truth about the human person; books that speak of the beauty as well as the sorrows of this created world; books that overflow, above all, with words– because we long to know The Word himself. "The longing for God, the désir de Dieu, includes amour des lettres, love of the word, exploration of all its dimensions."

Why is this? Pope Benedict points out that one key way that God has revealed himself is through the word, the Scriptures. The only way such a revelation can be fully appreciated is through a cultivation of a “culture of the word.” My life as a lover of language has made me realize that the more one reads, the greater one’s sensitivity to the nuances of phrasing, the depth of metaphor, and the painting of character.

Our family is embarking on a new exploration of words as we teach our little ones to "penetrate the secret of language" through learning to read and write. Like the monastery, our little domestic church is called to pursue eruditio, the formation and education of man. And so we fill our days with living books, exploring childhood’s literary landscape in order to engage the heart and open the mind to knowledge. As Charlotte Mason remarks, the key to education is presenting children not with dry facts, but “with fact clothed upon by living flesh, breathed into by the vital spirit of quickening ideas.” Good literature incarnates history, geography, science, culture, and faith, propelling the naturally curious mind of the child towards a greater engagement with topics than the faceless facts of textbooks.

Such literature does not always leap off the library shelves into our hands. Often we find it through the guidance of others who have gone before us, sometimes we happen upon it. This little Weekend Book Nook will be a space to share literary discoveries and our family’s engagement with them. Most will probably be elementary-aged children’s literature, as my oldest child is only 3, and that is where our sights are set at the moment.

My grown-up reading habits entail much “grazing” and little “finishing,” but I’m sure from time to time my own reading will make its presence known as well.

10 Questions to Encourage Engaged Parenting in 2010

A great set of questions from Simplemom.net, worth pondering on a rainy New Year's Eve when I'm stuck at home sick, listening to the pathetic wheezing of my 1 year old and the coughing of my three year old. Here's my run-down. Anyone else?

Parenting Personality
1. How do you think your children have experienced you as a parent in 2009?
I’ve been something of a roller-coaster parent, I think. There have been high points of patience and new understanding, as I’ve begun to decipher my three-year old’s temperament, but there’s been low points of anger, short-temperedness, and annoyance. I think this year has been a jumble, with a lot of changes in our home (two moves) and a lot of changes in our lives (a baby who went from a little sleepy bundle to a walking almost-talking, almost-toddler), and my parenting is jumbled as well.

2. How do you want your children to experience you as a parent in 2010?

If Gabriel-and-Peter-as-adults could remember me in 2010, I would hope they would describe me as:

• Prayerful
  
• Smiling (ah, the mother's smile, so hard to find some days!)
  
• Constant (a constant loving presence, engaging in constant routines, and calmly enforcing constant limits--even if difficult)
• Giving (to my husband and to them)
  

Hit the Highlights
3. What aspects of parenting brought you the most joy in 2009?
Making time to be in nature with the boys during the week, and spending our free family time hiking or camping.

4. What are you looking forward to with great anticipation in 2010?
I don’t really have anything in mind... maybe this means we need to make some fun summer plans to look forward to.

Strengths and Challenges
5. As you survey your parenting toolbox, which tools do find to be working well for your family, and which tools could use some sharpening?
Sometimes I feel like nothing is working well with Gabriel, my three year old. He takes so much energy, it is like I can only do a good job with him when I am 100% rested, 100% present, 100% on top of my game. However, there has been a very important thing that has helped me more than anything else: make a connection before giving a direction. This idea--from Hold on to Your Kids-- is so good for Gabriel. If I call down the stairs "It's lunch time, come up and wash your hands" while he is playing in the basement, he will literally scream because he is so flustered at being interrupted in whatever he is doing. If I walk down the stairs, play with him for as little as 30 seconds, admire his work, whatever-- and then say that it is time for lunch, usually he will cheerfully bound up the stairs. The latter scenario takes more effort, and sometimes I stubbornly don't do it, thinking "he should just obey me." This usually has an effect of spiralling awfulness-- screams from Gabriel, more commands from me... the connection is really worth it.

That being said, I think the tool that needs most sharpening is the spousal help-tool. I think Michael and I need to talk more about how to approach parenting. We can learn a lot from one another, it's just a question of sitting down and talking about our parenting in an intentional way.

Building Connections
6. How have you pursued your children in the past year?
After hearing somewhere that the human psyche needs 5 affirmations for ever criticism made, I've tried hard to affirm Gabriel. In particular, the last moment before he goes to bed, I try to make a point of telling him something positive-- that he did a good job with his brother in a particular situation, or that I had a really good time baking bread with him, etc. Usually this evokes an incredibly positive response. A big smile, an "I had a good time doing that with you too, Mommy," and a hug. I hope that's what he drifts off to sleep thinking about, rather than the tears or the hard moments.

7. What actions will you take to be more engaged with your child in 2010?
I think both Gabriel and Peter need "special Mommy time" and "special Daddy time." When we have the chance to be one-on-one with them, I want to make the most of it, and intentionally do a special activity with them, rather than just trying to get more things done because there's one less child in the picture.

Mending Missteps
8. Is there any aspect of your relationship with your child that has been strained by unforgiveness or regret?
There are so many things that I regret about the last year, so many ways I wish I had done better, so many times I wish I had been more patient, more creative, more understanding. If there's one thing that's beautiful about Gabriel, he is very seemingly very forgiving. I know he's not quite at the stage where he can comprehend what that even means, but he doesn't seem to be one who holds grudges. It's more a question of me needing to forgive myself.

9. Is there an unresolved issue for which you need to offer your child forgiveness, or do you need to ask for forgiveness from your child?
Even though he's only three, there have been times when I have been so unreasonably impatient and short-tempered I have apologized to Gabriel. I think I need to just forgive him for being himself sometimes... he just lives life at a high-octane and sometimes I start to wish he were different. That's certainly not productive, and it doesn't take into account the fact that someday (please God) these difficult-to-handle bursts of energy and willfulness will be used for productive purposes!

10. What actions will you take to nurture a healthy connection with your children in 2010?
I think the number one thing I would like to do is focus on quality time at home. We can be so busy during the week--groceries, playdates, errands, library, Atrium, playschool--that our home time can be so filled with cleaning and tidying and moving on to the next outing. I want to have the time and space at home (or outdoors near home) to do quality activities with the boys.

New for 2010: Traditional Table Tuesday

Everyone who approaches eating with a high degree of intentionality seems to like to label themselves– perhaps because the way they eat is not just about scanning a finger down a menu and choosing one thing rather than another, but it can become a whole way of life. I’m thinking here of vegetarians, vegans, raw foodies, etc. Over the past five years that we’ve been married, my husband and I have been on a gradual path towards becoming quite intentional about what we eat, but we don’t fall into any of those categories. We’ve been drawn, for a variety of reasons, towards becoming “traditional” eaters.

Traditional eating, for our Catholic family, means that we try to:

• eat foods that have fed and nourished humanity for thousands of years.*
• purchase food that is local; grown in a sustainable and traditional manner
• prepare said food in a traditional way–maximizing not only its nutritive value but our understanding of meals as the gift and fruit of labor
• ponder in ever-greater depth what it means to eat if our God has become Incarnate; if he asks us to take and eat of His very self.
  

On Tuesdays I will chronicle our adventures in becoming traditional eaters. I'll try to add a suggested booklist and some recipes too, eventually.

*The fascinating findings of Dr. Weston A. Price, a dentist who travelled all over the world and observed the eating habits of populations that had been isolated from industrial civilization are well-chronicled elsewhere. The short version is this: he observed diverse populations– from the Inuit in Alaska to isolated mountain-dwelling Swiss villagers to Afrikan tribes– and found that their health, not only dental but all-around, was excellent. He compared these isolated peoples to members of the same racial/cultural groups who had begun to eat the foods of industry– white flour, white sugar, white rice, concentrated fruit juices, among many things–and saw the industrial eaters suffering from a great many more health problems as well as physical and mental debilities. Although we have joined the Weston A. Price Foundation– a group that encourages traditional eating and publishes an interesting a quarterly journal on the subject– I must make a caveat here that I do not wholeheartedly endorse everything this group says and does, for reasons I am feeling out slowly and will discuss here as time goes on.

You know you're a Catholic family when...

... your son, upon examining the first Pez dispenser he has ever seen, says:

"Mommy, it's opening up its mouth to receive Communion! Can this guy eat the Body of Christ too?"

A birthday letter for Peter

November 17, 2009

Dear Peter,

Today you are one year old! We’ve lived 365 days together since you were born, but the details of this day one year ago are still vivid. I remember realizing as I woke up that morning that your entrance into the world was beginning, slowly but surely. I had enough time to eat a light breakfast, take a shower, and clean up the house. I wore a blue sweatsuit I had borrowed from a friend. Daddy stayed home from work so he could drive me to the hospital, and Grandma came over to take care of Gabriel, because he wouldn’t be able to stay in the hospital while we were there with you. I remember the silly questions the nurse asked me as we checked into the hospital. You were more and more insistent about wanting to come out and be with us, meanwhile I had to respond to questions about if we had stairs in our house, and whether I would be walking up and down them after you were born! Finally we were admitted, and not too long after that–after about 2 hours, and some creative help from our Midwife Wendy–you were with us, wearing your I’ve-just-been-born hospital cap and lying on my chest. Grandma told me it snowed the day you were born. I didn’t know it– you, Daddy, and I were snuggled up together in our room rejoicing that you, Peter Timothy, were finally in our arms!

Thanks to your big brother, I already had practice with the logistics of babies and toddlers. If you were anything like him, you would be happy nursing or being wrapped in the sling or carrier. So I did what seemed best and you were happy, and you shared your happiness with us. The first day you laughed at Gabriel, playing silly games with a baseball cap after dinner, and he laughed back at you, I realized the dynamism that is having another person in our family who can both give and receive joy. Now that I can see this, I pray that someday God will bless us with more children, brothers and sisters for you to tease first smiles and giggles out of, just like Gabriel did with you.

You are your own person, Peter. Gabriel wanted me to hold his hands for three months straight while he was learning to walk; I think I tried that with you once or twice but you preferred to crawl, usually after your brother and whatever exciting thing he was doing. Now that you have learned to walk, you fling yourself into it with gleeful abandon, arms held wide, running towards the next adventure until you lose your balance and plop to the ground. You’re persistent, though. You scramble up, all on your own, and keep going.

The world offers you its treasures and you marvel– yellow ducks, barking dogs, playground slides, bike trailers, tennis balls, sand boxes, and ice cream all elicit exclamations of interest and approval from you. Your smile is contagious, and your hugs (you even pat me on the back sometimes!) are encouraging. I know God sent you to me for a reason–sometimes I can make mothering such a complicated and busy proposition–because without fail your grins entice me to play, to relax, to be. As my second son, my little Peter, you are ushering me into a motherhood of greater fullness–each day I spend with you, I am more aware, less afraid; more appreciative, and less anxious. Here’s to many more years like this one.

Love,
Mommy

(Thanks to Elizabeth Foss for the inspiration to write birthday letters--I can do this, even if I can't keep up with a baby book!)

Sacrificial Giving

My little ones and I made a weekday odyssey into downtown Washington, D.C. today. Highlights included my three-year-old crowing “ALL ABOARD!” in the mostly-quiet commuter train, my one-year-old nearly crawling into an indoor fountain in the art museum, and a perfect-for-little-boys exhibit featuring lots of armor and swords. The day also gave us all an unplanned lesson in sacrificial giving.

Just before entering the museum, I paused to rummage around for something in the bottom of the stroller. While we were stopped, an older woman approached us. (Read the rest here...)

Lest I think my efforts are in vain...

Today as Gabriel, Peter and I were riding in the car to go pick up our veggies and milk from the co-op we participate in, we were listening to the classical music station on the radio. A Mozart piece came on– don’t ask me the name, because I don’t really focus on these things(!)– and I waited for a reaction from Gabriel. Suddenly from the back of the car I hear:

“Mommy! Is that your phone? Is your phone ringing?”
“No, Gabriel. That’s the radio.”
“But, no, Mommy, I hear your phone!”
“Actually, what you hear is the melody my phone plays when it rings. Mozart wrote that melody a long time ago, and now someone is playing it on the piano.”
“Is it Daddy?” [Daddy is our home’s resident pianist and musician extraordinaire...]
“No, it is a different man, or maybe even a woman.”
“Hey...Mozart! That’s like the book we read! Is this the melody he found? Is this Mozart’s melody?!”

At least ten months ago we read a book from the library called Mozart Finds A Melody. Gabriel would have been not quite 2 ½ years old. It was a rather whimsical rhyming picture book about Mozart and his pet bird, and his attempt to find a melody for his next composition. I had just grabbed it off the shelf, seeing that it looked kind of like a “living book” and hoping he might connect it to Daddy’s piano playing. It seemed way over his head at the time, but we read it a couple times and then returned it, not to mention it again. But it was there, swirling around in Gabriel’s little thoughts, and it reemerged...today!

Episodes like this make me increasingly more committed to filling my children’s hearts and minds with excellence and beauty, and more averse to fluffy cartoon characters or books featuring characters with bad attitudes, slapstick violence, or potty humor. You’d think the library would know better than to stock such stuff, but I find that 75% of the time when Gabriel randomly finds a book off the shelves, it features the above-mentioned attributes. Books can be fun without all that... Cynthia Rylant’s books are great examples. (I’ll talk more about them in an upcoming post.)

Finding living books that feed Gabriel’s mind and heart takes extra effort–in our case, I check trusted booklists, go to the library website, request the books online, and wait until they come in. Then our trip to the library is much simpler... I have a huge stack of genuinely good books waiting for me (although I always flip through them now before reading them) and we can make a short visit to the children’s section for one or two spontaneous finds. Much easier than browsing shelves with two little ones in tow!