Giving Thanks...

Sidney's class is putting on a little Thanksgiving play this week, so we spent some time practicing her lines as a historian this weekend. The play closes with the well-informed historian reminding us that the pilgrims and Indians who spent that first Thanksgiving together didn't always get along. In fact, the pilgrims and Indians had a great deal of trouble between them. But, that didn't stop them from sitting down at table that first Thanksgiving and sharing a common bond of living off the land. It didn't stop the Indians from showing those pilgrims how to hunt, farm, and survive.

My favorite historian reminded me that the American Thanksgiving is an opportunity for families to gather together in love and give thanks for the blessings we have, regardless of the fact that sometimes we may not get along very well. We gather to share thanks about the homes that always need cleaning, the clothes that always need washing, the kids that always need bathing. We gather to be thankful that we've been given the chance to share these little problems with even bigger blessings. And for that, I am thankful.

Blessings incognito...

As a senior in high school, I can remember praying relentlessly that my parents would win the lottery so I could go to a great college in preparation for a great law school. I figured it was the least He could do for me after I did mostly everything I should with my time in high school. I went here and was formed in ways I didn't even know I needed to be formed. While at Franciscan, I gently reminded God that I still wanted to be able to to go to an amazing law school. I begged him to help me find a way to get there, despite being at a "second-rate" university. In my second semester, I met Matt, who eventually peeled me out of the armpit of America and planted me in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Ok...not bad...University of Michigan was definitely in the top tier and within perfect commuting distance from our little apartment.
But the question didn't become, "Can I get accepted to UofM"--it became "what will we do with our adorable precious baby girl while I'm ferociously studying the intricacies of the American legal system." Hmm...
The story goes on, but the point is the same...we were looking for all the right things in all the wrong places. And as each goal became more and more farfetched, I was becoming more and more unhappy with the way things were turning out. Sure, I loved my baby girl, and I was definitely enjoying being married to my best friend. But outside of those two important things, I was lonely, depressed and really unsatisfied. I wasn't a good stay at home mom--I had no idea how to do most things related to babycare (but I had lots of books and of course the internet to guide me) and I definitely was a rookie at being a housewife. Heck, I couldn't even cook a meal! My best friends were spread out across the US, enjoying their 20s single or at least without kids, while I was consumed with poop, tears (some my own) and baby barf. And no one who was interested in hearing about it.
There was always something else I "needed" that I could have...a house, a sibling for Sidney, a law degree, a better job, less student loans, a night out on the town, my girlfriends...blah blah blah.
It's taken me seven years to make a half-circle to where I am today. And the funny thing--I have the same best friend for a husband, the same daughter along with her new little sister (yes, more poop, tears, and baby barf), more student loans, and those same best girlfriends are still spread out in every state except the one I live in. In fact, nothing major has changed except me. I learned that life is about a lot of common sense, putting others before myself, and trying really hard to live in the present.

I learned that worry is disobedience to God, faith is only as strong as the abandonment we practice. I discovered that it's not my job to do it all, that there will be failures and difficult moments in life. There will be people who let us down. There will be evil. It's nothing I can control. Worry only impacts me, not the situation.

So now I pay close attention to my blessings, address the burdens the best I can, and seek prayers when I can't. I try to do everything as if it all depends on me, but leave the results to the One on whom everything actually depends.

Picture Courtesy of www.designs-in-floral.com/Gallery4.htm

Nature sure is confusing...

Sidney: Mom, do you know why bees sting people?
Mom: Do you know why?
Sidney: They sting to protect themselves. But it doesn't make much sense because when a bee stings it loses its stinger and then it dies anyway. I don't know why they would want to do that.

Be Fair...

"That's not fair!" Preschoolers say it. School children say it. Adults even say it.

In our house, we talk a lot about raising our kids to be independent thinkers who work hard to achieve success. We try to teach them about earning rewards for good decisions and good efforts as well as the notion that poor decision-making leads to negative consequences. We also try to instill in our children that sometimes we do the right thing simply because it's the right thing and not because a reward is being dangled on a string in front of us. We focus on the fact that sometimes the reward is in doing the right thing.

My husband and I both come from large families with a lot of similarities and many more differences. We are often amused by how different the environment was in which we grew up and the irony of the fact that we still ended up together. My parents were always big on "fairness"--we still joke about how my parents would sit up late at night counting out jelly beans in our Easter baskets to make sure there wasn't a fight the next morning between kids. We learned that if one of us had candy, we had better make sure we had enough for everyone before we could enjoy it. None of us had anything unless everyone had it--we were all "even" and it was "fair". At the same time, if one of us chose to use that infamous phrase "It's not fair" the reply would immediately be "Life's not fair, get used to it."

And I think the principles my parents tried to teach were the same that were taught in most families--sharing, equality, concern for others. And while these seem like necessary concepts to embrace, it seems the ideas are often taken out of context, and thus become extreme in nature.

Why is it wrong for one child to have more jelly beans than another on Easter morning? Is it because it creates an appearance of favoritism within a family? Or is it because we have been trained to think that no one is entitled to have anything more than any other? This thinking permeates our families because it permeates our society. Kids are taught that it's not "fair" to have more than someone else, and that we are all entitled to the same things that everyone else has.

At first glance, this seems to convey the right notion--that no person is any better than anyone else. But, does believing that all people are equal really translate into every person being able to have everything that anyone else has, simply because we want it?

We are all individuals from the same mold, but with important unique characteristics. Some of us have brown hair, some blonde, blue eyes or brown, short or tall, fat or thin. We are male and female. But even more importantly than our physical differences, we are each given characteristics and traits tailor-made for us by God. Some of us are gifted with leadership skills, while others demonstrate keen ability to solve problems. An artist with an eye for the most beautiful of scenes, a talented surgeon with a steady hand. Some of us excel in academics, others are more talented in the use of their hands.

In light of these differences, doesn't it seem to make sense that equality is not encompassed in the tangible? Equality doesn't mean being able to attend the same ivy-league college, irrespective of our academic achievements or our ability to afford the financial investment that entails.

While it's nice that each child in my house knew that we didn't need to count our jelly beans because our parents recognized it wasn't "fair" for any of us to have more, wouldn't it have been a better lesson to demonstrate that how many jelly beans we have doesn't translate into how much our parents love us?

Isn't it more true that equality is demonstrated when we treat everyone with respect and genuine love of neighbor? Doesn't equality mean that we all have the same opportunity to make good choices and to work hard to develop our gifts and talents. Wouldn't the lesson be better taught where we recognize the value of the work people do because they are doing the work in the first place? Or if we taught our children that different talents, achievements and choices reap different rewards or consequences. And that as long as one is using the gifts given to him by the One who created us, that there is only one reward that can truly demonstrate the equality we share as people.

Our actions, our accomplishments and our choices can bring us closer or farther away from the One who created us. Whether we get there because we worked hard to become a successful surgeon who is compensated monetarily or because we served hamgurgers at McDonalds with a smile doesn't matter. But, it does matter whether we get there, and we all start with the same "fair" chance.

Mother Goose at her best...

...Mom's video skills at her worst. But I think this captures most of Sidney's first day on the big stage, despite her sister's efforts to grab the camera and her principal's head blocking the lower half of the stage. If you watch the clips in order, and imagine the kiddos singing Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary in between it will be like you were there! And bear with us...we're still a few steps below Broadway!

Where the fun is...

...the babe is sure to bounce!

I'm joining the feminist movement...

...so I can wake up in the middle of the night and still be thankful that not one other person in the world can ease my little one back to sleep as well as I can.

...so I can still expect a man to open a door for me, walk me to my car in a dark parking lot and pay for dinner.

... so I don't have to take out the trash at my house, but can if I want to.

...so I don't have to wear the pants in my relationship to be considered my husband's equal.

...so I can recognize that birth control is actually some man's cruel way of manipulating women to do what they want us to do without any obligation to us the next day, or 10 minutes later, however the course may be.

...so I can exchange my 4 letter last name for someone else's instead of using both to create a "liberating" 8 letter last name

...so that my husband and I can co-exist in perfect complementarity in our home without fighting over who gets to change the oil in the car or unclog the toilets.

I am truly often curious about the "feminist movement" of which I am not, nor ever will be, a part. I have considered the points about feminism made by women such as Hillary Clinton, Rosie O'Donnell and most of Hollywood and I honestly have yet to discover how they are seeking to promote women in society. I consistently see the notions of feminism as they are portrayed in everyday American society as degrading to me and to all women. To be a feminist in the popular sense is to fight against everything that comes natural to me and why? So that I can wear stiff clothes with buttons on the wrong side and expect to be promoted, glorified and recognized simply because I am a woman in a man's cruel world.

It's a world where true competition is eliminated, because a man surely could never receive a promotion over a women without some sort of underhanded sexist interviewer whose wife left him because he was an abusive alcoholic.

It's a world where a woman who achieves success in her field of choice will always hear murmurings about how she got the handout needed for her success, except on Oprah.

It's a world where women often hang their heads low to utter the harshest of phrases "I'm just a stay-at-home mom.

I'll take my feminism over that world any day. My society is where no one is "just" anything. Where my pediatrician and the men who collect my trash each week are valuable because they are working hard to provide for themselves, their families and me. Where I don't actually care what anyone does for a living, but where I do care that they work hard at whatever they do. My feminist society is one where each person is valued because they contribute to my life in some way--albeit often in unknown or unnoticed ways.

My feminism teaches that each person should act with responsibility for themselves and concern for others. My feminism is where I am accountable for my actions, where excuses are a waste of time and solutions are my obligation.

In my world, I am proud to be a feminist.

Stay-at-home moms looking for extra income?

Just convince your hubby to move to Russia and do what we Catholic families do best...

http://www.denverpost.com/ci_6624865

Rewards and Consequences...

Dad before our evening snack: "Sidney, you can eat that in the family room, but if you spill one drop because you're not careful, there is going to be a punishment."

Sidney: So what do I get if I don't spill anything?

Dad: You get to live.

We mean serious business when it comes to food in our family room. :)

I'm caught...

So I've been doing this for at least a week but now my mom was finally sneaky enough to see it and catch it on video too and I am not happy about it...at first...

Playdate to Heaven...

A little bit of background:
1. I gag when I brush my teeth.
2. When I was younger, I was known for the Shea-shudder--an uncontrollable whole-body tremor when drinking any strong alcohol.
3. When Sidney was an infant, I could not clean her umbilical cord stump without gagging and leaving the room after every swipe. That was the first time. After that, it just didn't get cleaned unless Matt was home.
4. Thinking about anything the texture of runny egg whites, no matter what color causes an instant gag. Seeing it almost guarantees a trip to the restroom.

So, Sidney had a playdate the other day. She was long overdue for some non-adult and non-infant interaction, so I finally took the initiative I should have taken much earlier this summer and called one of her schoolmates to arrange a visit. The plan--I would pick up her little friend and bring her back to our house pretty early in the morning so her mom could take full advantage of her toddler's midmorning nap. We'd return sometime in the afternoon so mom and I could enjoy a chat while our girls gained some extra play time.

Despite the lack of sleep our 4 month old is imposing on us these days, we miraculously get out the door shortly after 8am and make the trek through the morning traffic to pick up Sid's friend. As we're heading to the car, the two girls holding hands, mom calls after me to let me know that her daughter was too excited to eat much breakfast, so she barely even finished a kid-sized yogurt. No problem. We get in the car and we're off, the baby screaming as is her traveling habit, the two girls buckled in but still managing all kinds of loud interactive movement. I begin offering up the Hail Marys as my weak attempt at not scolding them for all the unnecessary noise in the car.

When we're about 10 minutes from our house and stuck in slow moving highway traffic, Sid's friend announces that her tummy doesn't feel too well. I'm not surprised or too concerned--she's been awake for hours, with just a small yogurt to fill her tummy and she and Sidney have spent the last few minutes looking at one of those seek-and-find books...just a little case of the carsick-queasies. I give an offhand reassurance that we're almost home and then suggest she tell me if she thinks I need to pull over for her. The girls resume their backseat fun and I go back to my Hail Marys. Phew.

We finally manage to get away from the slow-moving highway fumes onto our exit, when the little girl again announces that she still isn't feeling well. I offer some suggestions about what could be wrong in a weak effort to reassure her--perhaps she's warm, reading in the car makes me carsick, empty stomach, the fumes. Nope, nope, nope, nope. "I think it's driving too fast," she states matter-of-factly through her now greenish-hued glance. Ok, I think, better pull over.

We make it to a McDonald's parking lot, where I park and let her out of the car and guide her to a grassy patch, hand her a water bottle and suggest she just sit for a few minutes. We sit a long time, and she doesn't look any better, but we're just sitting. No need for a bag or a stop in the restroom. We're 2 minutes from home now, so back in the car we go. Because we've worked hard to instill a sense of concern and care in our daughter, Sidney repeatedly asks her friend if she's going to puke and then proceeds to talk about how gross that is. More Hail Marys.

We pull into the garage, I let the girls out of the car and move to get the baby seat out and into the house. As I'm putting the car seat down in our front room, I hear a request for the bathroom. As Sidney directs her friend, I hear the splash on the hallway tile.

Somehow I was able to mentally check out for a few minutes--just enough time to give the poor little girl a roll of paper towels to clean herself off as I wiped up the rest with minimal gagging. The little girl was so devastated--can you imagine adding insult to injury by gagging and being sick while trying to help her clean up. Somehow I don't think that getting sick immediately after someone else qualifies as compassion.

God doesn't called the equipped. God equips the called. Thank You God!

I'm thankful today for the realization that sometimes I feel completely out of my league in this adventure of my vocation. I'm thankful for the reminder that if I was so great at everything I was called to do, I would fail to seek the One who called me to this job in the first place. And, I'm thankful today for long naps.

The lovely sounds of our home...

Dreams can come true...

even in animation!

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!

Don't forget why we celebrate this day!

I can't say it any better...

"Just a little note to wish all of you a very Happy 4th of July. Today you all celebrate America’s 231st birthday and that’s something quite special. To some, it may just be a day off, and a break from the everyday routine of going to work, school or just doing the necessary chores to maintain our busy households.

I caution the former however, as that would indeed miss the significance of the day. America gives us much but it’s up to you to embrace her promise. Today, hopefully, you will all take time out to enjoy her gifts, by perhaps enjoying your families, your homes, and your freedoms to do just about anything you want. All because your country has given you that gift and that opportunity. Please take the time to thank her in your own way for these wonderful gifts. Gifts not shared by the majority of the populations of the world.

Take the time to realize just how special and wonderful it is to be an American, especially today. Patriotism, love of country and the love of the colors red, white and blue, should never be dismissed as corny or unfashionable. Whether young or old we must never forget this and must never turn our backs on the Great Lady in the Harbor who has stood as a symbol for so many throughout all these years. To do so would ignore the sacrifices of so many Americans who have served in her wars and her military, worked in her factories, studied in her schools, taught her children, built muti-million dollar companies from her garages, comforted the sick in her hospitals, protected us from crime and fire, volunteered millions of hours to her children, among countless other examples. Let us continue to be proud, not ashamed, to embrace the words, “In God We Trust” and recognize that without the opportunity to embrace any God or Supreme Being, we can not be truly thankful for the blessings of today and reality of America.

I have been away from the shores of our country on this day before. It is both rather remarkable and rather sad. To those who have not experienced this, it is quite unique. Today, I miss the hills of Georgia and the shores of America more than ever. I miss the scents of a burning BBQ, and the sounds of children running, of pool water splashing, of parades, of fireworks at night, of the crack of a bat and a ball, of flags snapping in the wind and most of all laughter in the air. Yesterday, I had the opportunity to be at the US Embassy in Kabul. The first thing I saw, after going through the steel gate with my helmet, weapons and protective gear, was Old Glory waving brilliantly from a huge flagpole. As they say, “I was on American soil,” and my God you can’t imagine how wonderful and different that felt.

We all serve our country in many ways. Know this is our wish to you from all your Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen, who wish we could be there with you today and enjoy all those sounds above. We’re very proud to serve you today and always. The Honor is ours. Please continue to serve your great country. Teach your children what it means to be American and what it means to celebrate Independence Day. God bless America. " ~MAJ Nick Satriano

NICHOLAS M. SATRIANO

MAJ, JA

Legal Advisor

Combined Security Transition Command - Afghanistan

"No man is entitled to the blessings of freedom unless he be vigilant in its preservation..." ~General Douglas MacArthur

Proud of the house we've built...

Of course I don't literally mean THE House. I mean the environment. The warmth. The comfort. The friendship. The fun.

Have you ever walked into someone's home and you just knew you didn't need to take your shoes off if you didn't want to, but that you totally could throw shoes and socks to the wind if your pretty little heart desired? I think that's our house in a nutshell. At least I hope it is.

I often look at the Pottery Barn catalog. Actually, I pine over it every time I get a new one in the mail. I adore The Pottery Barn. I want every single item I see in those catalogs. I pour over every sleigh bed in a variety of finishes. Every day bed. Every bedding ensemble and organizational piece of furniture. The items in the Pottery Barn catalog are elegant and expensive. They are rich in fabric, in texture. The pieces that look like they are made with real wood are actually made with real wood! Everything has a color coordinated everything else!

In my mind, I imagine a beautiful and amazing Pottery Barn house where each and every item is put in the place perfect for its display. Everything in that house is meticulously organized. The junk-drawer-that-everyone-has-but-can't-admit-to-having is actually a beautiful fabric lined basket tucked neatly away. All the kids have monogrammed polos which are folded nicely and put in the proper monogrammed bin in the closet. Every time I imagine this nonexistent house, I can't help but think of all the things I would do if I ever visited someone there. Of course, I would be wearing something linen, my hair would be perfectly windblown and my freckles would be glowing from having just stepped off my boat from an afternoon frolic on the ocean with the sun beaming on my face. I would probably be wearing sandals that may be a bit sandy, but I would enter the house with them on anyway. My host would generously offer me a cup of tea, because despite weather befitting an afternoon on the water, the wind blowing up from the beachfront is just enough to create a chill in the house. A light breeze that perfectly accompanies an afternoon cup of tea. My host would politely remind me that the tea will take "just a few minutes" and that I shouldn't hesitate to "make myself comfortable." This will immediately bring a bright smile to my face, because I am already in her living room with my sandals kicked off and my feet pulled up onto one of those beautiful armchairs, happily flipping through the most recent Pottery Barn catalog.

Gosh, that image makes me so happy! It makes me miss my dearest friend in the whole world--the one who would be furious if her husband brought an important guest home without at least giving her the 20 minute warning so she could whip around the house desperately trying to create just the right order and ambience. This is the same friend who would be delighted if I popped in just to say hello and spent the whole afternoon gabbing with her instead. And the order in her home at my random pop-by is basically the same as the special guest would receive. Because her home is that elegant and comfortable all at the same time, all the time. Everyone is always welcome, and everyone feels as if the environment is just perfect for whatever the occasion.

When I think of my friend, I realize her house isn't full of expensive catalog furniture and accessories. There are neatly organized areas for kids' things. The furniture is nice, but comfortable. And there is always a cup of tea brewing on the counter. It's never perfectly neat and clean, but it's never a disorderly mess either. It's not about creating an image for her, it's just simply living. Everyday, it's the same way--a day full of games and fun with the kids or an afternoon gab with a good friend. It's simply a home filled with love.

~You can't be serious Dad...

My 5-year Plan

I always make 5 year plans.

1993: I will finish out my 8th grade field hockey season and become a really awesome goalie. Yeah, that's right, awesome. Then I will spend the next 4 years of high school being the Varsity goalie and being adored by numerous fans when our team goes to State and wins. I will make as much money as I can babysitting so that as soon as I get my driver's license I can buy a sweet ride all my own. Then, after completely glamourous high school years, I will head off to an ivy-league college to begin my preparations for a career as a successful and famous prosecutor.

The summer before 9th grade I had the perfect job arranged and was on the path of my 5 year plan. But on the way home from Day #2 as the world's coolest babysitter, I crashed my bike into a guard rail and broke my femur bone. I was on crutches for over 4 months, had no babysitting to do and had to miss the whole field hockey season. The team got a new starting goalie. After saving up for a new car all my own, my mom's car broke down and I had to let her use mine for my whole senior year. I took the bus to school. I made all the preparations for graduating from high school near the top of my class so that I could get into a "good" school. I made my final decision and was all set to go, but then we realized that I couldn't afford to go to the college I wanted to.

When I headed to the college of my parents' dreams, I made a new 5-year plan.

1997: Ignore all the people, make the best of a stinky college situation and just focus on preparing to get into a "good" law school.

Despite my efforts, the second semester of my freshman year I started dating my husband, was enjoying every minute of college (even the people!) and I definitely became a better person in the process. Hmmm...not any closer to going to law school.

When I got married, I gained a partner to help with the 5-year plan.

2001: Both work for a year out of college and save up my whole salary. Apply to law schools, After graduation, get that dream job of becoming a prosecutor. Then the white picket fence, the new cars and kids.

9 months after we got married (and only 7 mos. after I started working), Siddo joined our family.

November 2002: Work full time as social worker. Juggle family life. White Picket Fence. New Cars. Sibling for Sidney.

After 9 months, I got randomly accepted to family friendly law school in our town. (Long story.)

August 2003: Full time to law school. Add sibling for Sidney to our family in June, so I could enjoy the summer at home before starting second year of law school. Arrange classes around being a mom of 2. Graduate law school. Dream job as prosecutor. White picket fence.

June came, and so did July, August, September etc. Law school reopened, no sibling. Juggling staying home with Sidney and law school full time.

May, 2006: Spend the summer studying for the bar exam. Pray that I pass. Accept that a sibling for Sidney doesn't seem to be in the cards. Sidney to school full time. Dream job as prosecutor.

Enter morning sickness. In March, Avery joined our family.

June, 2007: No more 5 year plans.

Royalty??

"She's prettier than a princess, so she must be a queen..." ~Sidney

We will miss Sr. Speciosa...

...but we will never forget the dancing lessons she gave us!

There's nothing special about tomorrow...

Last year, Sid's epitome age was 5. Every cool kid in her class was 5. The 5 year olds were called Kindergarteners. When she was 5 she could leave the Pre-K title behind. She would learn how to ride a bike. She would learn how to read. She would learn how to swim. Anything she was afraid of as a 4 year old, she could take on bravely as a 5 year old.
Sid is 5 now. And guess what...Sid's epitome age is 10. She met a girl who is 10, who can do anything Sidney can imagine ever wanting to do. Sid will surely face and beat all her fears by the time she's 10. Life will be so much better at age 10.

I chuckle, but I'm not really any different than my 5 year old. When I was in grade school, junior high was the place to be. When I was in junior high it was high school. High school, it was college. After college, I couldn't wait until I got my first real job. Then it was semester break. Summer. When I met my husband, life was going to be so much better when we got engaged. While we were planning our wedding, I couldn't wait until we were married. When we got married, everything was going to be even better when we had kids. When Sid was born, all we could wait for was when she slept through the night...rolled over... crawled... walked... talked.

Life was always going to be better tomorrow.

So much of our today is spent thinking about tomorrow. Tomorrow is when we grow up, when our kids grow up, when they start school, when we can take vacation, when we retire. But today is where we are right now. Today is what we can control. Today we are here. Today is special. And Tomorrow may never come.