Heaven Help Me!

Thank you, Jennifer, at Conversiondiary.com for such a well said article on having more children.

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The girls and I hopped in the car this morning to go to church here. (My husband and son woke up early and went to the 9am Mass, but the girls and I always have a hard time getting there on time…As a matter of fact, we have a hard time getting anywhere on time! ) Although the Latin mass is beautiful, that’s not why we go there. We go there because the liturgy is inspirational and helps me appreciate the richness of the Catholic faith. My kids like going there because they say it is easier to pay attention and when the  younger ones get bored, they can look at the beautiful artwork. Also, the priests don’t “tamper” with the liturgy – they don’t try to make it “cool” or modern. I really appreciate that. I don’t want to attend Mass somewhere the priest changes the Apostles’ Creed or substitutes words in an attempt to be less offensive. In so doing, I feel offended!

Anyhoo, as we are driving along, my six year old notifies me that her stomach hurts and she doesn’t feel well. So, I put on my nurse hat and after asking her a few questions, I diagnose the problem as as a muscle cramp. “Just because your stomach hurts does not mean you might vomit”, I quacked over my shoulder. As I’m driving, I take the opportunity to hone up on my basketball skills. I wad up a plastic bag from the grocery store into a ball, and toss it at her when I come to a stoplight. (She’s in the back row.) She catches it! I tell her to hold onto it “just in case”. (Moms around the world – ALWAYS carry around an extra plastic shopping bag – they are the multi-purpose solution for all life’s messes and emergencies: diaper change time, mud, food fragments…the list goes on…)

Shortly after, I heard a noise like someone spilled a water bottle. Then I remember that no one back there had a water bottle. Then I noticed the unmistakable stench of? VOMIT!

Pandemonium breaks out as everyone sees that their sister did NOT use the plastic bag I gave her! Wails and screams from the rear seat emerge as they discuss whether it would be safe to ride without a seat belt rather than sit next to vomit girl or stick their heads out a window!

Catherine, with highly exaggerated fake crying states, “That’s not a muscle cramp! That’s a vomit cramp! Evacuate!!! Everyone! Evacuate!!!”

What! A vomit cramp?! LOL! This really cut the stench with a knife and we all burst out into tears of laughter.

Poor vomit girl felt we were laughing at HER. Not a fun position to be in…

I tried to explain away how bad of a mother I was being – that the whole situation was just being relieved by hilarity.  To no avail.

So here is my public apology: I am so sorry I laughed at you when you were sick, dear! I’ll try very hard not to be a mean mommy in the future.

Oh! And I need to make sure I put a new plastic bag in my backpack for next time!

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I haven’t written a post in a while. I have about five drafts that are unfinished and unpublished, but I can’t seem to break through and write something substantive.

Until I get there, please enjoy the ‘Archives’ ! There is a lot there; a lot of really good writing and many funny stories. I have faith that I’ll get back on track soon. Keep checking back!

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I am wearing black today. Both of my Roombas died within a week of each other. Bad timing I say. School is about to start and there is NO way I want to even attempt to keep my house clean without these little buddies of mine.

They work to keep my house immaculate all day long, while I cook, clean up, read and teach the kids all day long. I have to say that this is a modern convenience I do not like to do without. Mud, grass, cereal spilled all over the floor…I can continue teaching and the kids can continue learning while the Roomba cleans them up.

However, when I have to go without them, I pause before ordering new ones. Here’s why:

1. While it is not outside of the realm of my vocation to own these devices, it may be outside the realm for my children. What I mean is that I know for sure that it is ok for me (as a homeschooling mother of six, and a wife, a sister, a daughter and a friend) to use any tool necessary to get done what I need to get done in my day. However, I know I need to instill good work habits in my children, and using a robot to clean may not do this. I especially became concerned about this when I asked my six year old to sweep the floor the other day, and, instead she pulled out the Roomba to do it, pushed the ‘on’ button, then ran off to play (until I called her back to do it the way I asked).  Well, I don’t blame her – it makes my life easier, too! How can I ask them to sweep the floor, when I prefer the Roomba over a broom myself?

2. They are expensive! The going rate right now for a Roomba is $199 for the base model.  This is a lot of money for us. Still, it is cheaper than weekly maid service, which costs $120 a week for our home. I can use the Roomba daily for a year and pay a total of $199. That seems to be the better deal.

3. They break.  The Roombas I have owned are susceptible to “technical difficulties”. They require some kind of fixing or cleaning (cleaning a vacuum cleaner? yes, that’s the annoying part!) after using them for a couple months. The batteries wear out quickly and they eventually just break down. IRobot customer service used to be wonderful and based in USA, but lately it has gone downhill.

4. The less fortunate do not own these. Through centuries women have cooked and cleaned like madwomen and somehow found a way to live without dishwashers, roombas and the like. In particular, the less fortunate throughout the world today do not have such things – it bothers my conscience to be so spoiled. At the same time, I know women with large families in the 40′s & 50′s who had nervous breakdowns from trying to “do it all”.  My dishwasher helps my children get read to more often, and keeps my kitchen from becoming grossly unsanitary. To me, a Roomba is another tool that helps me achieve this goal. I guess the solution is to use these tools mindful of how fortunate I am, but also mindful that I haven’t found a perfect solution yet.

VS.

Any opinions?

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I woke up to a morning of choas. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, being that I have six children, a dog, a cat, (and a rat or two about to join the family soon). But for whatever reason, today I did not feel up to dealing with it. Hubby and I stayed up late last night for “date night”, and needed much deserved sleeping in time. My kids have been intelligently arguing and *stinging* each other for the past couple weeks since school has been officially ”over” in our house. (It is frustrating to watch just how mean they can be to each other – even though they are brother & sisters! As my father-in-law put it to my husband and his brothers when they were growing up, “You have to fight the whole world – why fight each other!” ) My eight year old daughter unlocked my bedroom door with a key this morning proclaiming that my three-year old just had an “accident” and could I please come and clean it up. As I mobilized my troops kids to action in cleaning up the spill (and helping their sister get new clothes), I tripped over the dog who was spinning in circles around me wanting to be fed and let out. Then I returned to my bedroom, because our newborn woke up screaming and needing to be fed, and my husband expressing that he missed me and wanted more time with me.

So, waking up with demands from all sides prompted me to recall a familiar scene from a horror flick – one in which a woman is running away from ghostly arms coming at her from all sides. Once in a while, it comes at me, like a movie that is on continuous repeat. In this panic, I just felt like being a teenager running away from home (I did this once, but only made it to the end of my driveway); to escape my responsibilities, and fly to a deserted island where the only noise would be the lapping of the pristine blue ocean waves, and the only conversation would be a waiter who would bring me interesting, gourmet tapas and perfectly prepared pina coladas, as I dreamed of fitting into my former size 8 swimsuit, beached in the glowing sun on a comfy, white sand mattress.

Finally, with the assistance of my husband, I made myself an iced cafe mocha, went to my room, closed the door, pulled out my computer and typed in a google search the words “overwhelmed mother”. What this search yielded was a timely surprise:  an article on being an overwhelmed mom written by an overwhelmed mom.

I won’t say exactly what the article says, but I felt much better (and grateful for the choas I’ve been given) after reading it.

It was a good reminder that what I need is to make sure I take time out once in a while. My husband constantly offers such time to me, but something inside wants to stay home enmeshed in my responsibilities. What is it? Pride? That I can do it all?

A mother of a large family is called to a life of service. As I tell my kids sometimes, when I need to “recharge my batteries”, “Okay, guys, my tank is almost on empty. Time for me to take some time to fill it up and for you to watch a movie!”

Fifteen minutes later after ‘filling up my tank’, I am a happy woman again.

Which is a much cheaper, much more  accessible solution than a flight to Kauai!

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