New Grade, New School, New life.

Hi, this is Katie. I'm back from my first day of survival. Middle School....am I supposed to find this word scary? Today, August 30, was my first day. Beth went into 4th and Claire into 2nd. Abbie starts kindergarten tomorrow. I will now explain classes and such.

Homeroom/English: I get off the bus and go to a gym until 7:40 then go to my locker. I walk up to the middle floor, in the new building*. I am in homeroom then have language arts. I stay there. My teacher is extremely nice. And guess what? Her name is Katie. And the student-teacher's name is also Katie!

World Cultures: Let's skip this one. I didn't have it. I was still in homeroom.

Band: I had a little trouble finding it. I mean, it's in the old building*! I play the flute. This class is on A days**. My teacher is really nice (to a certain degree) and I like my classmates. My teacher is my only male teacher. I hope I enjoy it.

Health: Nothing to say here. I have it tomorrow, on a B day**.

Lunch: *sigh*, this did not start out well. This was the only time I got lost. It's not really a class, but I feel that I should include it. I teamed up with another girl (she had a map) and we worked together. We ended up asking a teacher then found our way. This is also in the old building*!

Math: My teacher is really nice. I had a few problems in there (needed to see chalkboard, no sharpener, lost composition book(that was found)). The class is right by my locker! :)

Reading: I love, love, love, reading! The teacher remembered my name, she's nice and understanding, and is a perfect reading teacher! The class easy to find.

Gym: Don't get me started. Getting dressed in a cramped room with 44 girls, hot and sweaty, being paired up in many different ways, new locker combination ( I have mastered my first) , this will probably the worst part of the day. It's hard to find too, in THE OLD BUILDING*!!! I like the girls and the gym teacher, though.:)

Science: Ahh...the end of the day. The teacher is AWESOME!! She is funny and laughs and explains things very well. The class is easy to find. I only know 4 kids.

Dismissal***: Report to locker (Certain days may require me to pick up my flute). Go outside to side loop. Find bus. Save seat for BFF.

The Bus: I have to wake up at 6:00. There are some High School-ers on. They're not very appropriate. The bus driver is really nice. She is very observant and kind. My BFF, Natalie, rides the bus as well (Whoohoo!!). I then take the bus back home***.

I have art the second half of the year (instead of health). I really get hot and sweaty running around.
*There is the old building and an annex, the same size. It is a MAZE in the old building. I cannot find ANYTHING there! The annex is super easy to navigate.
**There are A days and B days. On A days I have band and on B days I have health. Everything else is the same.

You know your kids are awesome when....

...not one, not two, but THREE people at the museum approach you to gush about how well behaved they are, how sweetly they treat each other, and what an amazing family you have.

Then, as if that weren't enough, when you stop to take a video of a disturbing bunny in the "sculpture garden" they all, in unison and completely on their own volition, decide to act like a pack of zombies.

These girls are the best.

Whine!

I am craving eggs in the worst way, but I can't make myself eat them because they are a brand named in the recall. What I really want to do is run down to the farmer's market and buy real, deep-yolky free range eggs that I trust, but I won't be able to do that either. Instead, I am going to sit here and try to convince myself that I will be perfectly happy with cereal for breakfast. Stupid egg manufacturers. Don't they realize there are pregnant women out there who can't live without their morning egg?

Days in Rodanthe

This is what we were up to last week. I'm sure you'll understand if it takes us a few days to recover from all this relaxing.

7 quick takes from a big fat hypocrite

I am a hypocrite for two reasons here. #1, I am about to list my seven favorite forms of devotion as though I am actually in the habit of practicing these forms of devotion. #2, I always scoff at the idea of being an actual "blogger" both because I frequently go weeks where I forget to post stuff and also because...well, nobody reads this regularly (except my mom - thanks, Mom!) Chris will sometimes give me a hard time about being a Pretentious Blogger, but my defense is that I don't actually put work into my posts, I don't promote it, I haven't listed it anywhere, and I never participate in any blog-type networking.
Ah, until now, that is. I was surprised to find myself tagged by Simcha Fischer, who by the way has, like, the best blog going,* and now look at me - pleased as punch, figuring out links and things in my pathetic eagerness to impress the cool kids.

So without further ado, here are my 5 favorite forms of devotion, dovetailed into the 7 quick takes because I am not sure which one I was supposed to do:

---1---

The Rosary

I love the rosary, even though I often forget that fact and convince myself that it's too hard to say consistently. I'm pretty good about saying one a day while nursing babies who keep me pinned to the couch for half hour stretches, but I have a terrible tendency to fall out of the habit once the convenience is over. I find, though, that when I do say a rosary every day my perception of life in general is much better. Mark Shea, another Catholic writer I really like, said something a while ago about the rosary being a success story** that really hit home for me. I have inherited the pessimistic Irish gloom of my family, and it can be very easy for me to fall into the trap of thinking that the world is nothing but a vale of tears. The rosary is a way of re-living, over and over and over again, the reality that the vale of tears is really just a part of the story: ultimately good triumphs over evil and peace and joy actually prevail. That is so cool, it's hard to believe it's for real. And that, of course, is why it is good to say the rosary over and over and over. I need this beat into my head or I'm apt to forget it.

---2---
Adoration

Long ago, during my first semester in college, I accidentally signed up for adoration in the middle of the night. (I didn't notice that pesky little a.m. beside the 3.) It turned into one of my favorite things, though. Sitting in the quiet chapel, completely alone, made my time in front of the Eucharist feel very, very personal. Even when I fell asleep which, to my shame, I did more than once.

I think it was going to adoration that first drew my heart towards the Church. My mom used to take me to St. Paul's Monastery in Pittsburgh when I was very little, and I absolutely fell in love with kneeling in the semi-dark church, surrounded by flickering red candles and a peaceful quiet that can be found nowhere else. Now-a-days, though, it's just plain old hard to get there. Our parish has perpetual adoration on Fridays, but between school and nap schedules I've never found an available time-slot that we can make. Remembering my own lovely childhood experience, I take the girls once in a while for a "quick visit" where we stay for maybe 10 minutes, but I've found that staying an entire hour can be very taxing on the younger ones. Whenever I manage to get there for an hour myself, though -- I really do enjoy it. It's that peaceful quiet, it just gets me every time. Just yesterday, I spent the day at the Catholic Writer's conference, and they had set up a little adoration chapel. I found myself going in multiple times, and I reminded myself of the girls who often climb up beside Chris or me when we are sitting on the couch. They don't ask us to do anything; they just want to sit close to us, and when they feel ready they'll run back to whatever game they were playing. That's what adoration is like.

I need to make getting there more of a priority.

---3---
Confession

I hate going to confession. It's always inconvenient, it's awkward, and for some mysterious reason (because I am not always terribly sad) it makes me cry every single time, which leaves me feeling horribly conspicuous when I exit the confessional. However, it takes a huge load off. I always wish I hadn't suggested going on our way in, but I am always glad on our way out.

---4---
Praying for the dead

This is an a devotion I can actually claim to do consistently. Saying the "Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord" prayer is something I automatically do whenever I pass a graveyard (and I live right down the street from one, so I at least say it a couple of times a day.)

I can't remember where I got the idea, but I say 5 Apostles Creeds, 1 Hail Holy Queen, and an Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be for friends, family, and people I feel compelled to pray for in purgatory every day (unless I forget to.) I like to take advantage of the whole Communion of Saints thing, and it's easier to make friends with the dead than it is with the irritating living. Does that make me seem psychotic? If you read the passage in The Brothers Karamazov where Fr. Zosimov talks about the importance of praying for those who have died each day, it makes it sound better.

---5---
Blessing my Family

This is another tradition that grew from something my mom did. (See, Mom? I did listen to you sometimes!) Every night before bed, I ask for a blessing on my house and each of member of my family. I used to make sort of a production out of it, naming all sorts of evils etc. that I wanted us to be protected from, but now I just ask Christ to give us the grace to love Him always, no matter what happens.

---6---
This one doesn't have a name

Long ago, I took a class by a wonderful priest named Fr. Mastroeni. He was an excellent teacher, but intimidating as hell. I would literally pray every morning before class that he wouldn't call on me, because to not answer perfectly brought a withering scorn like nothing you have ever seen. (Turns out, deep down Fr. Mastroeni was a big softie. When my friend Monica accidentally slept through our Final Exam, she faced him in tears, sure that he was going to fail her for the class. Instead, he let her take the exam later - in secret, because he didn't want to ruin his reputation as the hardest of hard-noses.) Anyway, he always began class with this prayer:

Direct O Lord all our actions, by your holy inspirations
and carry them on by your gracious assistance so
that every prayer and work of our may always begin from You
And by You be happily ended through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The girls and I say this prayer every morning. They don't feel like they've started the day properly without it. Thanks, Fr. Mastroeni!

---7---
Muttering and Sputtering

Remember when I said praying for the dead was the one I do most consistently? That's a lie. This is the "devotion" I am most consistent with. It boils down to me saying, throughout each day, things like, "I'm an idiot, God! Help me" or "help me to not dwell on this grievance," or "give me patience with this ridiculous kid!" Occasionally, I'll even manage something like, "thank you, God, for this sunset, or this sweet little girl, or this wonderful meal that my husband made for us and please-don't-let-me-get-irritated-with-the-mess-he-just-made-in-my-kitchen." A lot of times, I won't say coherent prayers at all, I'll just kind of....think about God, or sort of dwell on this or that thing that I read. I think this is what Peter Kreeft means when he talks about "practicing the presence of God," but I suspect Dr. Kreeft does it better than I do.

* I actually saw SinCity- in the theater!- and liked it, though.
** I spent forever looking for the quote about how the rosary is a success story, but for the life of me I can't find it. I am positive that I did not hallucinate it, though. It exists somewhere!

Also I can't figure out the linky thing, so here's just a plain ol' link to the blog that does the 7 quick takes, Conversion Diary, another one of my favorite blogs. I promised the girls milkshakes tonight, since I made them such a half-hearted dinner, and they are about to mutiny so I cannot spend any more time trying to figure this out!

Not enough names, too many opinions

We have finally nailed down a name for this baby.
It took a while because....well, we're running out of names we love. Things were getting so grim that we very seriously considered naming this baby Penelope (which is a name we both really like) even though it would mean that her nickname would make it look like we named her after my childhood dog (Penny. I really did love Penny.)

Anyway, we officially told the girls today what her name will be. What we did not expect was Lucy's very forceful reaction.

"No!" she yelled at us, covering her face with her hands, "I hate that horrible name!!!"

Chris managed to diffuse the situation by suggesting a nickname. I am not personally fond of it, but it works with Lucy. So, as of right now, her plan is to call her new sister "Uth."

Oasis

We are gearing up this week for our trip to the Outer Banks, something that in my mind has been synonymous with the close of summer. When we get back, we'll have just two weeks until school begins and then six more weeks until this baby is due.

Whew.

This has been a really nice summer. I woke up this morning (note that I "woke up" not that I "was woken up," a little difference in verb tense that makes a gigantic difference in reality) around 9am and the only ones awake were Katie and Beth, who were both contentedly watching tv in the basement. By 10am everyone was awake and moving, and by 10:30 breakfast had been served to everyone and the dishes cleaned up. It is now 11:30, and I have spent that solid hour (a whole hour!) just puttering around, left to my own devices. When I am done here, we will throw on bathing suits and hang out by the pool for a few hours. Lunch will probably just be some yogurt and fruit served on the porch, and after I've played all our usual games I am hoping that Lucy will allow me to spend some time working on a story I've been writing for fun. She will most likely give me no trouble.

This will all be over in two weeks; we will be getting up much earlier, we will have much less leisure time, we will be a little more stressed. That's fine, really. A huge part of what has made this summer so heavenly is the fact that it has been such a rare treat. Everybody sleeps through the night, nobody needs naps, there are no diapers to change, no babies to feed, everyone can dress themselves (mostly) and find their own games to play. I have actually been getting a full night's sleep every single night. It has literally been over a decade since I could say that. I'm going to repeat this, because it makes me feel good to acknowledge it: it has been over a decade since I have been able to get a full night's sleep consistently.

I have really enjoyed it.

I feel, too, like we really needed this sweet, simple summer filled with slow mornings and lazy afternoons. In two weeks, the pace is about to quicken quite a bit. In eight weeks, all hell is going to break loose. That might seem like a nasty way to describe the advent of a new baby, but let's be honest: it's true. I will not be sleeping, something that I can now see - now that I am not perpetually exhausted - affects me profoundly. We will be juggling the schedules of a newborn, a highly opinionated 3 year old, three elementary school students, and a brand new middle-schooler. Chris' work schedule is more hectic than ever before and is not likely to calm down in the next six months. Katie is looking into joining a few clubs next year, and Beth, Claire and Abbie are all starting Girl Scouts. We are going to be busy. Really busy.

But it's okay. This summer has served as a glorious reminder that things can eventually ease up. That even life with a houseful of young children can offer up periods of peace and tranquility. This has been a summer to catch up on things: disorganized corners, sleep, our breath. Maybe it's the calm before the storm, but it is also a reminder that there is a calm after the storm as well.

So right now I am going to finish my coffee and enjoy the quiet, empty living room without guilt. This is not permanent. I just need to remember, when the baby has been up all night and someone needs cupcakes for a class party and someone else needs help with homework, all before someone else needs to be picked up from someplace inconvenient, that it, too, will not be permanent. These seasons are going to ebb and flow, just like the ocean we are about to visit, and the key is going to be finding the ways to best ride out each phase.

I am grateful for the chance to still my breathing, because I see the next wave coming and I am ready to catch it.