New Year, New Plans!

I had big plans to write an end-of-the-year post about all my goals and plans for 2013, but Bejeweled Blitz got in the way. So here is a mishmash, random post.

More Reading, Less Social Media

My awesome brother got me the Liturgy of the Hours for Christmas. I really plan on getting serious about my prayer life. If I do pray, I get so zoned out. 'Dear God, thank you for the blessings of today. Forgive me of my sins. I can hear my neighbors up there. I can't wait to move to a new house. I remember the house I grew up in. I had a cat named Demi. I'm hungry. I need to lose weight. I have to pee but I'm too warm in my blankies. Ohmygosh is that a ghost? Oh yeah, I'm supposed to be praying! OK, God, I'm seriously going to start talking to you. Please watch ov----- ZzzzzZZ ZzzZZzZzzzzz....."

I also plan on reading up on how to potty train. I am soooo not looking forward to that. Sigh...

In the picture underneath the potty training book is a notebook. It is for my chemistry class. I have a feeling I'll be doing A LOT of reading this coming year. I forgot how fun it is to shop for school supplies. The newness and the excitement of learning!

I want to try to limit my time on social media. I spend waaaay too much time on Facebook, sometimes just perusing through things I've already read. I'll be busy with school, so those free moments I need to spend with my boys.  

TV!!! YAY!!!  

I'm not giving up my TV though! I'm a TV junkie and I just started watching Dr. Who. After I got over the first episode that was pure corniness, I am starting to LOVE it. I WANT TO WATCH ALL THE DR. WHOS NOOOOOOOOW!!!

Losing weight... you knew I'd write this...

Speaking of Dr. Who, you know in the first season when the Slitheen are introduced and they struggle to put on their human suits? That's how I totally feel when I get dressed in the morning. I pretty much look like one of the Slitheen, except with bigger boobs and more hair. 

 
I am going back to Weight Watchers. I tried doing it on my own and that was a failure. A big FAT failure. I'm going to spend these last few days before starting EATING ALL THE FOOD!

Changes for Joe

We took Joe's binky away a few days ago. He only used it at nap time and bed time, but we still felt it was time to get rid of it. We did something special and went to Build a Bear and had him place his very last binky into his very own Buzz Lightyear bear. He gave it up willingly, even though his lower lip quivered a little bit. He has been doing pretty good without it! (Thank you, Baby Jesus!)

Getting in a few more sucks!

Putting the binky in his bear

Joe with his Binky Buzz Bear!

 
I'm hoping to find a cheap day care/preschool type place I can take Joe toonce or twice a week to get him used to playing with other kids. It will be a tough transition for me... but more on that later...



I don't want to go overboard with goals and plans, because I am a master Jedi procrastinator, and don't want to set myself up for disappointment.


I'm just gonna go for it. Strengthen my relationship with God, strengthen my vocation as wife and mother, strengthen my mind and body, and strengthen my Whovian awesomeness. 

I hope you all have a wonderful New Year! 

See y'all next year!

  

 

7 Quick Takes Friday Vol. 27

1. 

Ryan got us a one of them nifty Netflix accounts! I am having a hard time trying to figure out which TV show to start, although Calah from Barefoot and Pregnant threatened to internet slap me if I don't watch Dr. Who, so I'm thinking he will win out. Besides, I want to know what all the fuss is about regarding this Dr. dude. Plus, she mentioned talking Tree People, so that's incentive right there.

P.S. I know this isn't the current Dr. Who. I do keep myself educated with Entertainment Weekly.

2. 

I am so not suited for apartment living. Our noisy noiserson neighbors above us moved out. There was three days of blessed peace and quiet. Then new neighbors moved in. They are from Bulgaria...they are.. erm... very large folk. So we can pretty much hear every booming step they take PLUS their b*tchin' techno music. Ryan met them when they first moved in and they seem nice enough.

A day after our new neighbors moved in the little girl who lives below us (they moved in about a month ago) got a FREAKING DRUM SET. It makes our walls and floors shake.

They don't speak English.

Our lease is up in three months. The priest at my last confession told me that if I felt like I was about to say something mean to say, "Lord, mercy." I have a feeling I'll be saying that A LOT in these upcoming months.

I just hate apartment living. We have definitely outgrown this little two bedroom. I have noise anxiety so all this banging around drives me batty. I want a big yard for Joe to run amok. I did find the CUTEST little house for rent, perfect size, big yard, cute vintagy old fashioned kitchen... but we can't afford to break our lease. I'm hoping things will work out in March!

It doesn't help that this is the craptastic view from one of our three windows.

Perfect for creepers, but not for me.

3.

I ordered my books for my first pre requisite class, Introductory Chemistry for Health Sciences. I'm pretty excited. Not overly excited... because I know I'll have a minor freak out in a couple weeks when the time comes closer for class to start.

Now

Later

 

 

 4. 

Mom wants to go see Les Miserables with me this weekend. Now don't go throwing internet stones at me, but I've never seen this musical or have any clue what it's about. Well, I think there's some Frenchie war, Anne Hathaway sing/cries a Susan Boyle song, and there's a little blonde girl running around.

5. 

Ryan wants to do a segment on my blog. He wants me to record him rambling on different subjects and post the video on my blog. We're thinking of calling it "The Beard Speaks" or "Saturday Morning Cartoons."

What do y'all think?

6.

So now I feel like a giant piece of dog crap. Ryan just got home and talked to our neighbors who live upstairs. They were SUPER nice and asked him if the noise they were making was bothering us. Ryan mentioned how crappy these apartments are and how we can hear their music. They apologized over and over again and offered to give us their cell phone number so we can call if they ever get too loud.

UGH.... I should be thankful that I have a roof over my head and that we don't live next to the next Jeffrey Dahmer. Things could be SO much worse!

My confessions don't stick.

                                                                             7.
This was our Friday:

I was SO excited to get a REAL LIFE Buzz and Woody for Joe for Christmas! He LOVES them and I can't wait until he's old enough to write his name on Buzz and Woody's feet!

Well, I have some Netflixing to do. My kids will have to fend for themselves.

Be sure to visit the amazing Jen for some more Quick Takes!

Obligatory After Christmas Day Post

Well by golly, our Christmas was wonderful, beautiful and chaotic! 

Here are a few snapshots from the 500 zillion we took. 

Starting the sugar early.

Just kidding! The wrapper was still on.

I'm way too lazy to take off the wrapper.

Brotherly love!

EGGNOG! 

"It would taste better with rum."

 Last, but certainly not least, our Christmas family photo. 

As you can see from our Christmas card, we are soooooo awesome at taking family photos. 

Nailed it!

Hope you and yours continue to have a wonderful Christmas season!

My Confession Told in Gifs

So I went to confession on Wedneday after 5 difficult months. 

Here's the story. 

For a long time I've been feeling really down in the dumps. 

God has been calling me to confession, but this is pretty much how I've been responding:

You see, every time I think about going to confession I suffer though TONS of anxiety. 

I worry about the silliest things. I worry that I'm taking too long and people waiting in line behind me are getting mad.

So then I finally found a confession time at a parish where the priest didn't know me and where there was no Mass afterward. I felt a small sense of relief.

I was still a super nervous. This was pretty much me while we were in the parking lot:

"Oh my gosh we're too late!" (Confession started at 6:00. It was 5:52.)

"Why aren't there any lights on in the church??!?!?"

"Why are there so many cars??!?!?!?"

"Why are people going to the school instead of the church?!?!?!?"

"Maybe it isn't tonight!!!!"

"What's going on here?!?!?!"

"This is the most horrible thing in the universe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Bascially I was doing this:

Ryan was all like

So finally I see some other people go into the church. Thankfully the church has a huge foyer and Ryan and the boys stayed there while I went into the church.

I knelt in the pew and was filled with great anxiety. I knew this anxiety was from the devil. I knew I had to tell Satan what's up and to leave me alone. Something like this:

"Get outta here you stinky debbil!"

and

 

 

Bam! GET ON OUTTA HURR!

I felt a little more at ease. 

But then I gazed on the crucifix and was overcome with sadness and guilt. I was still mentally freaking out and my chaotic feelings spilled over in my tears. 

Finally I get the courage to walk into the confessional. 

I'm finally in there. The screen is there. The priest is behind the screen. I can't see his face. I can only hear his voice. I picture Jesus sitting there waiting to hear my confession.


Long story short. I start confessing my sins and this happens.

And some more

Absolution:

And finally, me after I leave the confessional.

I was in there a long time. When I walked out with my beat red, tear streaked face people in line were probably all like

But I didn't care.


It was such a wonderful feeling to let it all out. I felt 100 pound lighter. It was amazing to actually hear the words "You are forgiven."

Ryan went to confession as well and afterward we were like

Jesus doesn't feel like my second cousin anymore. I feel like now that I am right with God I can re-focus on some other areas of my life. I need to get healthier. I need to stop being lazy. I need to rededicate myself to being a good wife and mother.



I feel free. I feel strong. I feel like I can take on anything now, with God's help.

I'll be taking a break from blog land until after Christmas. I hope you all have a very joyous Christmas. There will be stress and chaos, but remember the quiet, peaceful night long ago when God became man in the form of a helpless baby. Remember to keep Jesus in your life.

Merry Christmas!

No Words

The horrors of the school shooting in Connecticut have haunted me since Friday. I can avoid the news all I want, but the faces of those innocent children still pop in my head right before I go to sleep.

I've watched a few news clips online of mothers and fathers who have lost a child so tragically at Sandy Hook. I have no words.

I really don't have any words. People are talking and debating gun control, politics and mental illness. I don't even feel like I have anything to contribute to any conversation. All I can do is just look at my boys and thank God they are warm and safe and happy.

Thankfully the internet is full of loving, smart and amazing women. They write the words I can't find. They write the words that are simple. They write the words that everybody needs to hear.

Please, if you have time, read this powerful post by my dear friend Sarah.

Then hop over to Dwija's to read her simple and loving post.

Tomorrow I plan on going to confession. It's a confession service where I won't have to worry about rushing through because the priest has to celebrate Mass afterward. I'm going to do a lot of soul searching and examination of conscience and really get my soul shiny clean. Then I am going to refocus on my life. Stop being mopey. Stop being lazy in my spiritual life and vocation.

Hug Your Babies

I opened up Blogger to start a post to take part in the fun-natured 7 Quick Takes Friday.

But then I saw the news.

The horrific, unimaginable news that a shooter opened fire in an ELEMENTARY school, shooting and killing 27 people, mostly children. (That is the count as of now.)

WHY?

You'll have to forgive me. This will probably be a bunch of word vomit. I wanted to take an hour or so to let it sink in before I wrote about this tragedy, but I just can't wait. I don't think this tragedy WILL EVER sink in. The killing of innocent children? How can you wrap your head around that?

This isn't some emo, punk-ass kid who was bullied going into his high school and shooting up people. This person came into A FREAKING ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. A school with Elmo stocking hats and Barbie doll backpacks.

Those poor, poor babies.... those poor innocent children! Too young to get pimples... too young to have first dates... too young to die so violently.

Those poor children who witnessed their friends being killed. Those poor children who were calmly ushered out wondering what was going on, why their lesson stopped so suddenly, why they were surrounded  by so much chaos. The only thing to hold on to was the hand of their buddy. Their childhood is over. I pray they still hold on to the last amount of innocence and whimsy... that the magic of their childhood wasn't killed as well.

Those poor mothers and fathers. My heart breaks for them. I can't imagine how it must have felt to rush to the fire house praying so fiercely, screaming and crying and begging to God that thier child was safe. Not knowing would be torture.

I can't imagine the overwhelming feeling of gratitude and happiness at seeing your child run up to you. The light feeling of relief flooding over your body. To be able to hold them, kiss them, breathe in their sweet scent. To hear their voice, to dry their tears, to hold their small hands in your own.

I can't imagine... I cannot imagine, the feeling of getting the news that your child was a victim. The feeling of your life crumbling before you. The gut wrenching feeling that your precious child was ripped out of your life, that you would never hear their voice or their laugh or see them throw a baseball or tie their shoe. To go home to your Christmas tree and see the presents neatly wrapped... that your child will never get to open. I can't imagine having to explain to your other children that their brother or sister isn't coming home.

I can't imagine having to bury your child around Christmas. The heartbreak I feel cannot be measured against the heartbreak of the people of Newtown, Connecticut.

WHY did this shooter have to kill so many before taking his own life? WHY?

So much evil... and sickness in this person.(Now the news is reporting it was a 24 year-old man whose mother was a teacher there... he also killed her.)

WHAT is wrong with this world? So many shootings, so recently. Aurora, Oregon... now Connecticut. So many senseless deaths.

I hate that I don't feel safe. I hate that I fear for my sons. I hate it that this world is so full of darkness and evil. I pray so hard that people see Christ breaking through this darkness.

Pray. Pray for the children. Pray for the teachers and staff. Pray for the parents. Pray for the families. Pray for the community.

Pray for our nation.

Appreciate your children. Love your children. Remember they are gifts from God.

Live your life as if it was your last day. That doesn't mean go all motivational poster and go skydiving or cross items off your bucket list. Instead: love. Not just those that are easy to love... love the annoying neighbor, the guy who cut you off in traffic, the politician you are convinced is out to ruin the world. Cherish- cherish your family and friends. Cherish the blessings God has given you. Cherish the crosses he gives you as well. Aim for heaven. Aim for God.

Joe is tucked away safely taking a nap. Soon he will wake up and call my name. I will hug him and hold him and send up a prayer to God thanking him for my special blessings. He has been whiny and clingy due to a cold and getting his molars in... but suddenly, to me, that is the greatest gift.

7 Quick Takes Vol. 26

These will be quick and random since I am typing one handed!

1.
I've been peed on, pooped on, and spit up on *TWICE* today. Awesome.

2.
A couple weeks ago I took a bloggy break. Lots happened then and I've been too lazy to write about it all. First of all Sam rolled over! Wasn't he just born like, yesterday?

We also had a few snow flurries. I don't know who was more excited, Joe or me.

Looking at the snow flakes!

3.
Joe is really getting into Christmas this year! He recognizes Santa Claus (or Ka Kaws as he says it) and yells "HO! HO! HO!" When we turned on the lights to the tree his face lit up and he whispered "Wow!" I just love seeing the magic of Christmas through my son's eyes!

Oh, and he says "Ho, ho, ho" just like the Santa from A Christmas Story.

4.
Today Sam is 4 months old! He is such a smiley baby and laughs all the time. He's finally at the age where he can interact with Joe. Joe can always make him smile and laugh. It is so sweet! I can't wait until he's older and they can really play.

5.
Joe hasn't shown a lot of jealousy toward Sam, and I am so thankful for that! The transition from one to two has been hard for me, but Joe loving "baby" so much has made it a tad easier! 

6. 
We ordered our Christmas cards yesterday from Shutterfly. I LOVE them. We also ordered Sam's birth announcements. Only 4 months late... but we got em done!

7.
Sorry these Quick Takes are so boring. Here is something you might enjoy. It's called "What Should Catholicism Call Me?" It is a combination of my two favorite things: Catholicism and .gifs. Enjoy!

Visit Jen for more Quick Takes! Have a happy weekend!

But... I don't adore Him...

It is the first week of Advent. I'm preparing for blog posts and articles about "preparing the way" and having a spiritually fulfilling Advent. While all that joyful stuff is going on I'm going to write a post that has been on my mind for weeks now. I hate writing the "oh, poor me, I suck at being Christian and Jesus doesn't like me" posts, but I just feel the need to get these feelings out on paper my own space.

Mass is hard with a 2 year old who likes to scream and climb everywhere. I rarely ever hear the readings. They could be reading snippets from Harry Potter and I wouldn't even notice. ("A reading from the first book of Kingsley Shacklebolt.") I say the words to the prayers, but I mutter them somewhat mindlessly. However, a few weeks ago I actually paid attention to one little thing I prayed along with the other parishioners, and it I swear I could feel my heart stop.

There I was, saying the words to the Gloria. "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men of good will. We praise you. We bless you. We adore you. -" and that's where I stopped. The slow realization crept in.

I don't adore God.

I just... don't.

I started thinking of those that I do adore. My first thoughts went immediately to my husband and sons. My heart is filled with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for them. They bring me such happiness. Words cannot express just how much I love them. Thinking about my husband and boys brings tears of happiness to my eyes sometimes. Then I started to think about how much I adore my mom. She has helped me in countless ways. Whenever someone hurts her or tries to bring her down I get furious and want to start cracking skulls. I think about how I adore my brother. My heart fills with pride knowing that he protects our city as a police officer and I admire how devoted he is to God and his wife and children.

My adoration extends to my uncles, aunts, cousins, Ryan's family, and my friends. It even goes as far as to some women who I've met over the blogosphere that I've never actually met in person. I love all these people with such a fierce love. When they hurt, I hurt. When they are full of joy, I am full of joy. I would do just about anything for them. I would do just about anything to protect them. I would die for them because I love them so much.

But God? Would I be as brave as those martyrs who chose to be burned alive, beheaded, or tossed into a pit of lions rather than deny their Lord? Of course most of us say that we would die for God, but I sometimes have serious doubts that I would. If I did, I wouldn't be one of those brave and happy saints who danced and sang hymns while being marched to their deaths. I'd be bawling, peeing myself and curled up in the fetal position. Heck, my heart would probably explode from fear before they even got me to the chopping block.

Something is wrong with this picture. My priorities are backwards. It seems I love my husband, my son, my family and friends moreso than God. Jesus says the FIRST and greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart, with all your soul and with all your mind. (Matthew 22: 37) It is sometimes hard for us to put God first in our lives. I know a lot of people who disagree with that ideal. Even though I feel like I don't practice this commandment, I get it. We wouldn't have our loved ones if it weren't for God. God gave us every little thing in our lives... uh... even our life itself, so he should be #1. He became man and died a cruel and torturous death to save each and every one of us from Satan. It makes total sense to love him above all things.

There is no doubt in my mind about the existance of God. I've felt his grace and witnessed his blessings in my life and in others lives. I know he is real.

And there's no doubt that I love him. I really do love him... but not as strongly as I should. I love him in the way you love your 2nd cousin, twice removed. You love them simply because you do, because they are family. It's not a case of "well they are family so I HAVE to love them" because if you are forced to love someone, well, that's not real love. I know my love for God is real, but it's lackluster. I know this sounds so incredibly spoiled and rotten of me, but sometimes I feel God's love for me is lackluster as well.

I thought of all this pretty much the rest of Mass. It has stuck with me. I don't know what my deal is. I love Jesus and I'm thankful for what he has done, but I'm not on fire for him. I am so jealous of those people who have such a zeal and passion for Christ. It's like Jesus in their best friend, their father, their brother... But my Jesus is my 2nd cousin, twice removed that I see on occasion at the family reunion where the only conversation you have with him is the awkward "How are you? How about this weather?" It is hard to love someone you don't see. I know we interact with God in the sacraments, but I just don't feel it. 

I feel so far away from God. I go to Mass because I know I need it the Eucharist. I hate that I have felt this dryness for years now. I know that some of the greatest saints have suffered through dark periods in their spiritual life. Mother Teresa was one who suffered years and years and years of spiritual darkness. However, she still seemed to love God fiercely and did all things to glorify him. Why can't I have that kind of strength? Why does God even let people go through feeling so far away from him? I have heard the "why does God let bad things happen to good people" question over and over again. The answers of free-will, strengthening us, and bringing us closer to him are somewhat satisfactory answers. But why does God abandon super holy people who actually try to cling to him? What kind of God does that? I am not trying to compare myself to these saints. I'm quite lazy on my end of my relationship with God. Still, I want to know why he flits in and out of our lives.

Now here is where some of you readers might think I'm a little cray cray. Just bear with me. Part of me wonders if this distance from God that I am feeling, this "eh" attitude that I have is from the devil. Ooooh great, y'all are probably thinking. Not only is she Catholic and proud of it (what a weirdo..), but she's one of those "LEAVE HER SATAN!" people.

Rest assured, I'm not going all Carrie's mom on you all.

They're all gonna laugh at you!

I often wonder if Satan has planted a "ho hum" seed within me. It's not like I hate God or am questioning his existance. If I were, I'd be clinging to God because I am even more miserable than I am now when I have animosity toward God. And the devil is smart enough not to use all that scary ass demon trickery on me, because the second I start hearing voices or experience creepy shit like upside down crucifixes I'm hauling butt to the priest. I will run faster to God than Usain Bolt because that stuff freaks the eff out of me. Instead, I think the devil is using the subtle tool of not really caring. He's slowly putting out the fire of adoration I have for Jesus. Damn him.

I have experienced dark forces in my life before. I have physically felt spiritual battles going on around me, one of them being the night Joe was born. I know of other people who have also dealt with being sensitive to evil around them. I know Satan is real and he never stops getting us to turn away from God. Thankfully my guardian angel and St. Michael have protected me.

Only God knows who or what is behind the reason for my dull attitude towards him. Maybe it's the post partum hormones ligering around. Maybe it is Satan. Maybe it's just the season of life that I am currently experiencing. I just don't know...

I know what I need to do. I need to get my butt to confession. But here's the conundrum I am facing. I am sorry for my sins because I am utterly terrified of going to hell and want to go to heaven someday. But I cannot fit it into my little dumb brain about how my sins offend God, and therefore I feel like I don't feel truly sorry for my sins. So I feel like a fraud going into the confessional.

I know I should go more to confession more often and go to adoration and read more spiritual material instead of the Entertainment Weekly I have on my nightstand. I need to turn to the Blessed Mother. I need to unplug from the internet on occasion. I was doing all that regularly when I was a student at Benedictine and I felt so much closer to Jesus.

I think this Advent will be a good time for me to really step back and look at what I need to do to start adoring God again. I feel so blah in so many areas of my life. So lonely and melancholy. I need the joy of Advent. I need the joy of Christ. So if you kind folks could throw out any prayers, I'd greatly appreciate it.