Eileen on Him . . . at least, I try!

Happy 18, Step 2!

Of the five births through which God has blessed this family with children, I have only actually been present for one of them.

Doesn't that sound crazy?  (Maybe it only seems so to me because it just struck me today.) :)

But it's not as crazy as the story of Step 2's birth.  Of course I wasn't there, so I won't go into details (even though it's a great story), but it involves a dark-of-night visit to a private home in the middle of nowhere, the blaring sounds of Peter Pan in the background, and The Chief's intrepid mother wielding a baseball bat.  And somewhere in the middle of all that, 18 years ago today, the world welcomed one of its most delightful-ever inhabitants.

(Please ignore the mess on the deck.  We had a party to put on!)

Happy Birthday to our favorite Fanilow! :) (Hey! She heard that.  And she's so cool she doesn't even care.)

Oh, how we'll miss you when you leave for college in August! ("We Can't Smile Without You!")

 

P.S.  This just occurred to me too:  Are you aware that you've blown out more than 350 birthday candles so far?

          

That includes the full complement of candles for each one of your birthdays, plus "one to grow on," plus double cakes ever since you turned 5 (one of the few mitigating "perks," I know).

It does not include birthday parties with your friends, cupcakes brought to school, extra candles in your breakfast sandwich, muffin, poptart or muffaletta, or additional cakes offered by extended family members if we happened to be visiting them near your birthday.

(Well, OK, so the jury's out on this one.  I forget why there were two cakes, but apparently we didn't have 17 candles available ... so, naturally, we went with Roman numerals instead.  So clever, I sometimes scare myself.)   

It also doesn't include the "trick candles" on your 16th birthday cake, which you (good-naturedly, I might add) blew out multiple times.  (We may be a mean ol' family, but we love you!) :)

Happy, happy, happy birthday!

Lost & Found

This has become my annual St. Anthony repost.  St. Anthony remains one of my all-time favorite saints, and this post contains a few personal stories that give a whisper of why he's come to mean so much.  Happy Feast of St. Anthony!

(Just some toadstools we found.  We call them "Squirrels' Tea Party.")

I just love St. Anthony.

Dear St. Anthony, please come around...
Something is lost, and cannot be found!

So when Meredith at Sweetness and Light challenged her readers--in an incredibly thoughtful post on Keeping the Company of the Saints--to take "Baby Steps" and immediately find some way to include the Saints in our every day lives, I knew just where I'd start.

I know some things about a lot of Saints, but there are very few that have touched my heart so deeply that I truly think of them as "friends." 

St. Anthony is definitely at the top of that list.

And yes, when I can't find something, St. Anthony is definitely my go-to guy.  And he has never, ever let me down.

OK, so there was that one time.  I think I may have left that file of amazing zoo photos and unparalleled zoo lesson plan ideas for my preschool class on top of the recycle bin just before it went to the curb--what was he supposed to do?   

(That was over 10 years and two houses ago. My confidence in him is so strong that every now and then I poke around old boxes, still expecting to find it.  When we someday meet face to face, I half expect him to pull it out from behind his back and say, "Gotcha!")

That St. Anthony!

Several months before The Chief and I were to be married, The Chief had offered to help me spruce up the yard at my house to ready it for the market, by assisting in the taming of what had become a massive hedge, and carting off the waste to his burn pile at what is now our home, 55 miles away.  (He's at the top of my list, too!)  I had on my left wrist a delicate gold bracelet my beloved had given me the previous Christmas, that I had never taken off.  At some point during the hedge trimming, raking, bagging and stuffing the truck, that bracelet fell off my wrist.

I was heartbroken!  Not because I loved wearing jewelry, of course, but because of what that one piece meant to me.  I noticed it was missing on the ride between our homes.  I had no idea where it could be, and I despaired of ever seeing it again.  We were already well into the hour-plus drive, and even if it were easy to go right back,  I had no idea where to begin looking!  The Chief (ok, so he was only the Captain then) assured me that, at least we could look for it as we dumped the brush into the burn pile.  It would be very much like looking for a needle in a haystack, though, and neither of us believed we'd have much luck.  I sighed deeply, and when we arrived at his house, we set to work.  Of course, we never saw the bracelet.  When we were finished, The Chief  and I looked at each other helplessly, and I said, "Well, we can ask St. Anthony."

No sooner had the words slipped from my lips but I looked down at the ground, and there, on the toe of my shoe, right where we had just dumped multiple loads of branches and leaves, was that bracelet.

I've always suspected St. Anthony himself put it there.

On another occasion, a coworker of mine was frantically looking for an important document she needed for a meeting she was heading for that afternoon.  As she shared her frustration with me, I smiled.  "You could ask St. Anthony to help you.  He always does me."  She looked at me blankly.  "I'm not Catholic," she stated flatly.

I smiled brighter still.  "That's OK!  He's not prejudiced!"  She rolled her eyes.  I asked for help.  She found the document.

What can I say?  He likes to do this stuff!

Sometimes I'd be tempted to think I was merely being a little superstitious.  I mentioned that to him, somewhat sheepishly once, as I made yet another mundane request.  "I know, I know, this is a dumb thing to ask, isn't it?"  I added.  I got an immediate impression of a response.  "Why don't you just let it increase your faith?"  came the reply.

The thought took my breath away.

I don't question it anymore.

Now, my children know that any time something is missing, we call on St. Anthony.  When the prayer is coming directly from them, I sometimes get a little nervous, and remind him that finding it will increase their faith, too.

He knows to be patient with me.

So today's Nature Monday was dedicated to our friend, St. Anthony.  We went on a nature walk back at the pond, looking for fungi, and for "evidence" that squirrels or raccoons had been there, toting corncobs stolen from the field next door.  Or for whatever other "evidence' St. Anthony wanted to share.

Oh, it was so fun!  We changed the couplet though, since we really hadn't lost anything:

Dear St. Anthony, please come around.
We know that with you, all good things can be found!

The children overturned old tree stumps.  They looked up into trees.  They gazed delightedly at the play of the wind on the grasses.  They found lots of toadstools.  And lots of corncobs, kernels and pieces of cob, and even a few corn shoots!  They found deer tracks, and tire tracks ("Evidence!  That Daddy was here!" said Junie B. joyfully.)  And they attributed all of it to the loving intervention of our friend, St. Anthony.

We read from Amy Welborn's   Book of Saints.  I was just so amazed at how appropriate is her lead-in to the chapter on St. Anthony, to exactly what I was hoping to accomplish.  She writes (p. 279),

Following Jesus isn't just for Sundays or special occasions.  It's for every day.  We don't have to follow all sorts of complicated rules to follow Jesus.  We can follow him in many simple, ordinary ways.

Saints know this, of course...They know that we only have the strength to take great big steps toward God when we've been taking lots of little steps all along.

Isn't that just what Meredith was talking about, too? 

But it's funny, when I immediately went to St. Anthony for a focus today, without much of a plan, mind you, I wasn't thinking of him as the Saint of the Ordinary.  I usually give that category over to another dear friend, St. Theresa the Little Flower.  So Amy Welborn's introduction to St. Anthony caught me totally off-guard, and as I read aloud to the children, I found I had to swallow hard to keep my voice steady.

Because I suddenly realized something.

Today, St. Anthony found me.

Originally published October 29, 2007.

What a Turkey!

Or, What???  A Turkey???

Seen meandering through a residential area of a nearby city ...

(We actually had to stop to let him cross the street!)

Either this guy's lost ... or, like us, he's checking out the real estate! :)

Now We Are Six!

My little Taz celebrated in style yesterday -- picking all his favorite meals, making an impromptu trip to a nearby (about an hour's drive) beach for a picnic lunch, and enjoying a crazy excuse for a birthday cake that was the hit of the day! :)

For breakfast, Taz "treated" us to sausage and bacon Deli Egg Sandwiches, little chocolate doughnuts and watermelon ...

...and hot cocoa (in the coveted "Happy Face Mug")!

Originally, the plan called for a picnic lunch at our pond, but Taz wondered if we could have our picnic at the beach -- where they have a beautiful antique carousel -- instead.  Being a sucker for carousels, how could I refuse? :)

We had boiled hot dogs (just put the hot dogs into a large thermos, and dump boiling water on them -- voila!  That's my sister Noney's fabulous idea, by the way, and it's become a favorite "special" picnic lunch around here), freshly-made fruit salad, really disgusting  ... er, tasty, huge Cheetos cheese balls and pop for lunch.

Sadly, the carousel was closed, but we still had lots of fun!

 

Dinner was goulash (American Style), garlic bread and sugar-snap peas.  Taz specifically asked that the pasta be "the big tubes" (making the dish into the standard Buffet-banquet fare better known in our house as  "Obligatoni" -- because it's apparently "obligatory"). :)

But the piece de resistance was the Birthday Cake.  Inspired by this idea from Family Fun, I made what essentially turned out to be more of a "sculpture" or a "vignette" than a cake per se.

I made it by layering mini chocolate cupcakes (probably the equivalent of 1 (8") cake layer)with chocolate pudding (about 2 to 2-1/2 cups) and about 2-3 cups of crushed oreo-style cookies.  The whole thing was laid out on a brown cafeteria-style tray, sprinkled with a layer of crushed cookies.

(The trucks were brand-new, and were thoroughly washed before use.  I even soaked them in a mild bleach solution before the final rinse, just to be sure.  After this, they're headed for the sand box.)

Taz's reaction?  [gasp] "Guys! You gotta come see this! Oh, Mommy, this is great!  It's Dirty Jobs!  It's wonderful.  I love it!  Thanks, Mom!" (and yes, I did get teary-eyed!)

Perhaps you might wonder how best to serve something like this ...

It was messy, downright interactive, and loads of fun.  

If you've got the stomach for it  (actually, it tastes way better than it looks) -- and a truck-loving little boy -- it's totally a winner. :)  Sighing happily at the end of the day, Taz said, "This was the best birthday ever."

Happy Birthday to our sweet little 6 year old! May there be many, many more "best birthdays" to enjoy!

Morning Coffee Musings

The past week has been a surprisingly exhausting one around our house, and I am currently enjoying a rare "late morning" (it's about 7:30 am) by myself -- giving me a minute to address my much-neglected space here.

We finished our school year officially last Friday.  The time went by so quickly that I never even updated In My Backyard to reflect a single thing we've done for the entire quarter!  It was a rich and full 9 weeks, however, and I hope to post on what we were doing and how it will affect the direction we'll be taking in the upcoming school year.

One "new thing" we did this last quarter was give Junie B. the experience of taking a standardized test -- through another homeschooling group, she was able to participate with about 10 other families in taking the IOWA.  For the most part, she creamed it.  Even her spelling subtest scored three grades above level (I had no idea 6th graders were such poor spellers; but I digress).  The areas in which she had the most difficulty were those related to formal writing, which we've heretofore (deliberately) addressed very little (and her scores were solidly on grade level for those, even for that).  As my husband says, I worry way too much about all this stuff.

I have a number of posts in the pipline, some of them percolating all month, including thoughts on where we'll go from here in terms of curriculum, and how we'll make it happen for the little individuals that actually live here :) .  I'm almost set on what we'll be doing, actually, and the post I started at the beginning of the month, intended to be part of a series, may already be outdated; but I may post my thoughts anyway, since these decisions are all about process.

I also have posts -- mostly just in need of pictures -- about our doings in the month of May, including a sweet May Crowning and Marian-themed dinner on the feast of Our Lady of Fatima, a hilltop Ascension Day picnic, a trip with Daddy to the zoo, and the exhausting but really fun planting of our much-anticipated vegetable garden.  (And I'll have to update that with a post on how much I hate grackles, who may have already destroyed our butternut squash and tomato plants ...)  We made cute garden markers out of popsicle sticks and clip art, and will soon be adding a scarecrow , too (for fun; somehow I don't think the grackles will be impressed).

And I have plans for the summer, too!  We won't "count it" toward our 180 days, but I'm looking forward to trying out a summer "Writer's Workshop" with Junie B, based on the Writing Strands series.  It will be light and fun, and I hope it will lay the foundation for beginning to focus on writing in earnest next school year.  Beyond that, I hope to get the house in order, reorganize our books and other resources, and spend oodles of time outdoors.  I know our school year just ended, but I also am looking forward to starting to purchase resources, too.  I get pretty excited when our new book orders start rolling in! :)

And our sweet Step 2 will be graduating from high school this month (as the Valedictorian!  Did I mention she's the Valedictorian?) :)  Oh, that's bittersweet.  With both of the big girls gone, our home will seem very different.  Smaller, for starters.  Thursday will be her (and probably our) last concert at the High School.  It feels very strange to be losing that connection to the school and the community that the older girls' public school education represented.  And I must say I am very surprised by my melancholy reaction to it.

June is also a huge birthday month around here -- Wednesday my little toothless Taz turns 6 (gack!  6!!), followed by Step 2's 18th (gack, again!) birthday on the 16th, then Fathers' Day (of course!), and The Chief's (appropriately mature, non-gacky) birthday on the 28th.  My sister's son will be getting married on June 19th (the first wedding of his generation from our entire huge extended family!), and Step 2's graduation will be on the 26th.  What a month!!!  It won't end there, either:  4th of July weekend is my dad's annual family reunion -- a family tradition extending all the way back to the days of WWII.  Then Step 2 begins getting ready in earnest to leave for college.

Bittersweet.  Melancholy.  Fun!  And busy, busy, busy.

On top of all that, we're seriously considering moving.

So if the day ever comes that I get another unexpected break like this, I may just share a little but about all of it.

But now it's 8:00, the kids are waking up, and break-time's over.

Happy Airplane Day!

Three years ago today, an airplane pulled into JFK airport at 1:00 in the morning, carrying some incredibly precious cargo.

Taz, then two years old, was the first to see the plane!

Little Sunny-boy, just 5 months old, traveled for more than 24 hours, from Seoul, Korea, to Detroit and then to New York.  When he smiled, he lit up the room, and melted our hearts.

 

SB, along with another baby boy, was escorted here from Korea by a wonderful couple, who were coming to New York to visit their own grown children.  Sunny-boy is on the left.

Aunt Patti, we can always count on you to be there for us! :)  Thanks -- again!! -- for being an important part of our little boys' adoption stories!

Our lives are warmer, richer, fuller (and waaay more hectic!! -- and we love that) because of you.

We love you Sunny-boy!  As your Gramma liked to say to Mommy and your aunts & uncles on our birthdays when we were little like you:

 "We're so glad you came to live at our house!" :)

Memorial Day 2009

Memorial Day is one of those times you gotta love living in a small town.

And our little village does it right:  Parade, service, speeches, artillery salute, and a moving rendition of Taps, using a three-trumpet echo across the waterfall in the center of town.  The high school band plays patriotic tunes, and selected students sing The National Anthem, a capella (the last few years, that group has included the vocally-gifted Step 2, and today was no exception!)  The local Vets place a wreath at the Veterans Memorial, and set a table for the soldiers who never made it home.  It never fails to bring a tear to my eye.

We truly do owe a debt of gratitude to those who have so honorably served in defense of this nation and its ideals.  Our calm, simple country lives would not be possible but for their sacrifices.

Be sure to thank a Vet today.  And any chance you get.

Three years ago we celebrated Memorial Day for the first time with our little Sunny Boy, too (he arrived at 1:00 in the morning on May 26, 2006).  Here's my all-time favorite Memorial Day photo, taken Memorial Day 2006:

(The Chief, of course, is the one with the baba.) :)

Just one more reason to be grateful.

We Live in a Way Cool Area

Plus, this version of the Erie Canal song is way cool, too.

(If the weather is nice, we'll be navigating these exact locks this weekend -- and it's not even very far away!)

Other resources on learning about the Erie Canal coming in a separate post.  (Really!) :)

Wordless Wednesday: Outside My Window

"I felt so alone."

My brilliant, talented and beautiful (in every way!) niece was graduated from the University of Notre Dame this past Sunday.

Her dad, a tireless and articulate prolife advocate -- and, I'm proud to point out, my big brother -- was in attendance, along with his dear wife, my mom and dad, and his inlaws (among others).

It was not an easy decision for them, but in the end, they decided that this was Katherine's day, and they wanted to honor her achievement, of which we are all justly proud.

Watching all of this from the sidelines, I was eager to get the "inside scoop" from my mom on the experience -- though, having already read the transcript of Obama's remarks, I knew the news would not be encouraging.

"Disheartening" and "dark" are two words that stand out for me from my mom's account.

"Oh, you have no idea," my mother said.  "I expected the President to be greeted with respect.  I did not expect him to receive undying adulation and approval.  Here!  At Catholic Notre Dame!"

"It was heartbreaking," she continued.  "I felt so alone.  It's going to be very hard for the prolife cause from here on out."

Far from the opportunity to open "dialogue" and seek to change minds and hearts on an issue of such fundamental importance, this was poor, persecuted Fr. Jenkins' big day.  Obama sealed for himself the "Catholic Vote," successfully framing himself and his supporters as the "reasonable" ones, while contributing nothing of substance to the debate.

It was a big win for Fr. Jenkins and President Obama.

And the biggest losers of all were the unborn.

My mom is right.  It is heartbreaking.  And it will be harder now.