Author: JenniferFitz

7 Quick Takes: Advent was good.

Coffee was lost and now is found. Go read.

Lately I’ve encountered a lot of talk about Holiday Burnout.  People who are just sick and tired of Christmas.  People really struggling to feel the Advent-Love.  People who know they’ll go to bed on the 25th exhausted, disappointed, and thinking, “Is that all?  It ends like this?”

You know what?  I’ve had a wonderful Advent!  Peaceful.  Joyful.  Can’t-wait-for-Christmas.  Genuinely looking forward to 12 Days of All Things Good.  Here’s what it looked like:

1.

We had The Plague.  Not a really bad plague.   Not the kind that depopulates cities or disfigures previously-beautiful people.  Just a day or two of  “Hey, death seems like  a nice idea!” and then several weeks of non-contagious laying around, sleeping all day, and sticking to activities that require no lung usage.   So visions of bustling around doing holiday things?  Out the window.  Gone.  No-Can-Do.  Didn’t happen.

2.

Dumb luck.  For reasons that have nothing to do with  my own clever planning, 80% of our regular weekly activities finished for the year by the first week of December.  80% less driving around. 80% less herding cranky children.  80% less repenting of uncharitable thoughts towards stupid careless clueless other drivers.

And then back in early November  I had recklessly committed a labor-intensive Advent catechist-project; we had to cancel it when we realized it would conflict with The Immaculate Conception.   Good thing, since I was barely standing up straight for my last RE class December 7th.

(Shocker: The kids were NUTS that night.  Pure crazy-power that class.  They can smell weakness.)

3.

I chose not to over-commit. We went to a few of our very favorite (or very necessary) holiday events.  But the rest, even though they promised to be good and wonderful, we chose to skip.  I don’t like long, loud, chaotic festivities.  I know other people love that stuff.  Cookies! St. Nick! Bags of Trinkets!  I do not love it.  We skipped it.  Everyone is happy.

4.

We’ve hit our Christmas / Advent decorating sweet spot.  It took us a few years to figure out what this looks like for us.  When does the tree go up?  When do we decorate it?  What about lights and colors and all that stuff?  I know it is the pasttime of a special kind of Catholic to agonize about these things.  I agree it is silly to lay down some Universal Law Of When The Tree May Be Lit.

But I think it is important to self-examine just a little.  To try things out and see how they feel.  Our culture flat out stinks at observing Advent.  If we want to do it, we’re on our own for figuring out how it’s done.  It is a happy year when we the members of the family can agree that we’ve found an approach that works for us, and hits the right balance between preparation, penitence, and joyful expectation.

Double-bonus for your resident Complainer:  I totally 100% approved of the way my parish handled Advent decorations this year.  Not that it’s any of my business to have an opinion on these things.  But it was nice all the same.

5.

I live in a cave.  I don’t watch TV.  I don’t shop.  And every year from Thanksgiving to New Year’s I turn off the radio, because I’d rather have silence than cheesy holiday songs.  These are not due to my amazing virtue and spirit of penance.  I have very little virtue, and a purely intellectual spirit of penance.  These are self-indulgences.  They are me doing what I prefer to do.   But they conveniently shield me from the onslaught of Giftmas Propaganda and bad (Christian) or blasphemous (secular)  music.

So I totally get it, if you who bravely suffer these things have lost your Advent Love after enough weeks of torment.  I would too.  I am grateful for my sheltered life.

6.

Don’t forget to pray for Allie Hathaway.

7.

Jen Fulwiler at the Register ponders, “Why no Catholics among the top 100 Mom Bloggers?”  My answer is this:  We don’t do that.  If our homes are all in order, with lovely decorations,  Craft A Day, and beautiful meals on the table every night . . . that’s our cue to have another baby. 

We don’t live showcase lives that we can peddle on the internet to those longing for Housewife Wonderland.   We focus on our highest  priorities, and we let the rest be someone else’s calling.  Our lives will never be magazine pretty.  My house is not that clean, the only reason I have baked goods lined up is that I trust the nine-year-old with brownie mix and I wasn’t being strict enough about math homework, and we didn’t even get to sing this year, because, well, plague.

We lives our lives poured out. Full and running over.  Everything that is not essential to our calling, we set aside.  And in the process we do not end up beautiful, famous, or rich.  But we do get joy and peace.

From the Archives: PSA: Sunday Obligation

I posted this last year, and several people found it helpful. 

This year, my same exact friend is having the same exact scruples.  December is a hard month.   What one person can work around easily, will sink another.  We don’t all have the same resources to help us overcome Mass-obstacles.  The great news is that God is fully aware.  He’s on the job.  Personally Responsible for making sure your state in life is one that can help you get to Heaven, even when you genuinely can’t get to Mass. 

 

***

Originally posted 12/10/2010:

Recap for the spectators: Catholics are required to attend Mass on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation. (The HDO’s are a handful of major feast days throughout the year.)  But you are excused from this requirement if you have a serious reason you cannot attend.  It’s a prescription, not a sentence.

So . . . on an internet forum, a catholic mom writes along the lines of:

I think I might have to miss Mass this Sunday because of <<insert serious reason that undoubtedly excuses her, not subject to debate>> but I’m not sure it’s okay, because I missed mass last week, too <<insert more serious reasons>> and plus I hate to miss so much church this time of year. What do I do?

The answer is:  The Precepts of the Church are unchanged by what month it is and what happened last week.

It is of course a good sign if you regret having to miss Mass so much.  It is is likewise good to recognize that Advent is a special time of year in the life of the Church.  But that doesn’t change the Sunday Obligation.  There isn’t a secret calendar showing weeks when you can skip based on a flimsy excuse, and other weeks when you have to show no matter what.  Likewise, there isn’t a cosmic attendance policy giving you so many unexcused absences and then you fail the course.

You either can come, and therefore you  must.  Or you cannot come, and therefore, well, you cannot.

Much simpler than people fear.  The Church is not out to get you.  Well, okay, she is out to get you.  But in a good way: She is out to get your soul into Heaven.  And she knows that under ordinary circumstances, attending Mass on Sundays and Holy Days is what your soul needs.  So go if you possibly can.

3.5 Time Outs: Vocation Reality Show

Thanks once again to our host Larry D. at Acts of the Apostasy, whose plan for internet domination will no doubt culminate in underground bunkers.  Every indication the  Alvin- and-Chipmunks warning is not an idle threat.

Click the Picture to Learn about the Secret Lair

1.

Byzantine Christmas.  A friend sends in this link to a Byzantine Christmas menu.  Yummy.  FYI for those who can’t get enough of all things Byzantine, she forwarded it from the Byzantium Novum yahoo group.

Double FYI: No, I am not planning to cook all this.  I just like thinking about these things.  My 9-year-old has baked some cookies, though.  That’s a step up from last year, in terms of our ratio of homemade-to-store-bought Christmas foods.  Thank you  nice religious ed family who sent the mason jar of cranberry cookie mix.

Oh, and look what my DRE gave me (and all the other catechists, I’m pretty sure) for Christmas:

Mine is not this exact one. Mine is smaller and has just the Holy Family, and the stable is an arch shape.  But it’s from the same project and very similar. It looks super cool.  Maybe I could get some photographer guy I know to take a picture.

2.

If five-year-olds had to choose their vocations:

“I do not like most boys.  Most.  They make you play army all day.  But there is one boy I do like:  Jesus.”

The boy who makes her play army all day still doesn’t like girls, either.  Except when he can get one to run around the yard brandishing weapons.   In eight years I will have four teenagers.  Seriously enjoying the easy years.

3.

SuperHusband points out that hunting season only lasts two more weeks.  During which he will be designing and building shelving for the living room.  Not shooting things, and maybe his friends won’t be shooting things either?  Maybe the dog does not need her own stock pot from Santa after all?  Also, maybe my living room will not have the “Tornado Strikes Shed, Library, Toy Store, and Art Museum, Deposits Contents in Suburban Home” look?

Okay, no, let’s not overreach.  But at least I’ll be out of excuses.  That’s a start.

3.5

. . . they said she had torticollis.  In a five-year-old?  I’d only heard about the newborn kind.  I had no idea about the sort that makes a small, non-complaining, previously perfectly happy (if resistant to bedtime)  child suddenly start moaning and kicking her feet in intense, intractable pain.  The worst of it lasted through the night, and it took nearly a week of Rapunzel Therapy to effect a complete cure.  But she’s good now.  Next time we’ll know what it is.

***

Remember last week when I mentioned a vague specific prayer need?  This week, pick your favorite saint-who-suffered-slander-from-enemies, and ask for a little assistance on that same job.   Thanks.  Have a great week!

Update: What we talked about.

1. Childrearing.

2. Education.

3. Briefly stood on the sidelines of politics.

4. Accounting.

5. Sports.

 

Started, respectively, by:

1.  “So tell me about your baby.”  (I was looking for: “He’s this big, and likes to play with squeaky toys . . .” something like that.)

2. “And what are you doing, work-wise, these days?”  (I had no idea she was an elementary school guidance counselor.  Wow.  That’s a job.)

3.  I was just trying to get a drink.

4. “What have you guys been up to this year?”  (My wearing the Festive Accountant look I think helped prompt the conversation in this direction.  Festive Housewife doesn’t generate the same reaction.)

5. Right place right time.   I had forgotten there were sports I knew something about.

 

And look, each one of those was with a different person.  Mingling.

Or at least, “Politely letting people escape when you realize maybe you’ve gotten carried away in your enthusiasm for babies* / phonics / [not enthusiastic about 2012] / costing systems & internal controls & cash & debt & the IRS & . . . / fencing.

Great event.  Yay.

 

****

*Here’s what the baby conversation was really about:

Nervous new mom: “My neighbor says that at night I need to _________________”

Jen:  Are you getting enough sleep?  Is your baby getting enough sleep?  Is your husband getting enough sleep?  Are you happy?

Nervous new mom:  Yes.  We sleep through the night. We prefer our method, it was what my mother did, and I like it.

Jen:  If it’s working, don’t change.

Nervous new mom:  My neighbor says . . .

Jen:  Your neighbor is not the one raising your baby.  You’re the mom.  You’re in charge.

Nervous new mom: You’re such a good mother.  I wish I were a good mother.

Jen: No.  I am a confident mother.  You are a good mother.  I can tell by what you told me.

Nervous new mom: Maybe.

(She is.  Super nice lady.  Good mom.)

 

 

7 Quick Takes: Have Copier, Will Educate

1.

It’s one of those days when 3.5 takes would be much easier.  Just sayin’.

2.

Dear Dog,

This Christmas you are getting your very own six-quart saucepan*. I am tired of finding mine in the garage refrigerator with your venison scraps stored  in it.  The humans expect me to cook for them.  To each species their own pot.

Sincerely,

The Complainer  Santa

3.

PS: Bones stay outside.  Out. Side.  “Hiding them in the boy’s bed” does not count as “Outside.”

4.

My second-grader loves this book:

My son would have despised it.  #2 probably would have liked it, and I think #4 might one day.

5.

The other find at the candy education supply house super clearance sale this fall was:

My kindergartener is using the beginning of the book to practice decoding skills.  2nd grader started a little farther in, for  spelling / phonics / reading words.  Lucky find.  I’m liking reproducibles.  When you have more than one child to use the book, it starts to be a reasonable investment.

6.

Don’t forget to pray for Allie Hathaway.

7.

So naturally the toner is low.  Need to order more.  I <heart> Newegg.  I feel so 21st century.  Hey and seven wasn’t so bad after all.

Now need to go figure out what to wear to the office party tonight.  That part I’ll manage, at least well enough for a gaggle of engineers. But here’s a bleg: Any suggestions for good conversation starters?  Mixed company, so religion, politics and money talk are right out.  Also, education (mostly), childrearing (mostly), childbearing (mostly), because those are basically religion, politics, and money, Parenting Edition.  You see my trouble.

Every Advent I forget how to chit-chat.  Okay, actually all year I forget, but it becomes apparent in Advent.  I keep meaning to write myself up an index card of opening lines.  Help?

 

* I think they call it a “Stock Pot”.  But hello, I have many humans to feed.  That’s my saucepan size now.

Something I’d heard about, but never seen.

Rapunzel-thon* continues.  Convalescing 5-year-old calls for help: “Mom, can you make it play in the language I’m speaking?”

“The language you’re speaking?  That’s English.”  They lose track of these things.

She’s on the main menu.  I go check the language settings.  There’s two English choices:

  1. Dolby something or another
  2. Dolby something or another Descriptive Video Service.

“Darling, do you mind if I try something?”

“Okay.” <– She is the happiest member of our family.  All the time.  Wish the rest of us were so compliant**.

 

This is the first time I’ve seen DVS on the language-track choices, and wow, pretty cool.  Useful of course for it’s intended purpose.  But also: Wow, what a study in film-making!  Draws your attention to what information is shared via dialogue or sound-effects, and what is told in images.  Great tool for the writer.

5 year-old doesn’t seem to mind it — it could be annoying to have to listen to descriptions you don’t need — but then, she loves describing things.  All about method, that child.

 

*I like this movie much more than Steven Greydanus did.  Then again, he probably hasn’t been subject to OSHA-prohibited hours of exposure to Barbie Fairy Secret.  Not that I’d trade jobs with him.  Not ever.  No way.  It takes a true martyr to endure what that man does.

** Such a happy baby that I  took her to the doctor when she was four months old, because she was suddenly so fussy, no other symptom.  Ear infection, maybe?  Nope.  The doctor diagnosed “fussy baby”.  I went home, remembered Ora-gel, and the problem was solved.  A walking anti-parable, “The Girl Who Never Cried Wolf”.

3.5 Time Outs: Jesus Fairyland

Thanks once again to our host Larry D. at Acts of the Apostasy for inspiring countless countable numbers of bloggers to add structure and scandalous images to their Tuesday.  But not that scandalous — take a look at his 3.5 takes to see not see images far worse than derelict toddlers.

1.

I won a prize!  Oh it cheers me up.  Lisa M. encouraged me to turn out for the Amazing Catechist Giveaway, which I did not want to do, because, well, I didn’t want to be commenting just to indulge my book lust.  But you know what? I didn’t have to fake it.  There’s useful information in that place, and friendly bloggers who answer combox questions, which means even more useful information.  Needless to say, I learned about a pile of new books I want to check out, and look, I won one of them:

And now it is in my hands!  I can’t wait to read it.  Yay!  Check out the Keep Infants of Down Syndrome blog, if you are like me, giving Catholics a bad name by chewing out telemarketers for major charities that seek to “prevent birth defects” by killing off the people who don’t meet spec.  Yeah, I’m cranky.  Killing innocent people makes me cranky.

2.

Respectable Christians are sending Sarah Reinhard photos of their Advent wreaths. I don’t qualify.  Here’s the one we used to have:

That’s Santa and his reindeer, flying towards Christmas.  (Which had not arrived at photo time — observe the recycled candles.  There cannot be a single shade of purple.)

Allow me to explain: I did not donate this item because it was too tacky for me.  It was because, well, look how big it is.  You can store a lot of books in that cubic foot.  My one vice had to give way for the other. But you who own proper Advent wreaths, send in your photos.

3.

Dear Small Children of Mine,

We have been building a model of Bethlehem in our living room every Advent since before the eldest among you was even conceived.  It pleases me greatly to combine Lego, Fischer Price, and Playmobil structures into a giant sprawling representation of the Holy Land.  I am not the least disturbed when the Seven Dwarves turn out for the census.  Presumably the Romans counted even the very short and sneezy.

But I draw the line at calling it “Jesus Fairyland”.  It is Bethlehem.  B-e-t-h-l-e-h-e-m.  Get it straight.

Sincerely,

That Catechist Lady Who’s Supposed to be Educating You

3.5

Rapunzel, opiate of the masses. This weekend I shipped the Y chromosomes off to Hunt Camp, Eldest Daughter did homework Friday and then spent the weekend at her friend’s house, and my two listless littles watched our new library find: Tangled. Continuously.  From 9AM Friday until 3PM Sunday, with breaks only to sleep, attend church, and sometimes to eat.  I got a lot of work done.  And hey, it’s a pretty good movie.  Edifying, even. And boy am I glad my 5-year-old is still enthralled, because last night at the ER

***

Relax.  I will finish that story next week.   All is well here.  Offer up your suspense for the half-dozen people I’m praying for who have real problems.  One in particular needs you today, desperately.  God will know which one.  Thanks!

7 Quick Takes: Things We Don’t Talk About

1.

I would like you to know that there are many, many reasons you should be grateful I gave up complaining.  Of course I cannot tell you what they are.  Just enjoy the peace and quiet for a change.

2.

Don’t panic, the reasons are all very petty.  If I had something big to complain about, I’d cleverly disguise it as a “prayer request” or something.

3.

Dear Self,

Compulsively surfing the internet does not count as “praying”.  Even if you do read highly edifying Catholic blogs.  Even if you do toss out Hail Mary’s here and there for good causes.  Please get your act together.  Right now.

Sincerely,

The Person Who is Dragging You To Confession Tomorrow, Do Not Even Try One of Your Excuses to Get Out of It.

4.

Am I the only person whose spouse is obsessed with filling the freezer with venison this year?

If your sensibilities are easily offended, skip #5.

5.

PSA: How to Have Almost Free Meat

1.  Do not take up hunting.  Hunting saves no money.  Ever.  It is a giant financial black hole.

2.  Instead, cultivate a general interest in hunting.   An ability to make hunting talk.

3.  The people who just like to shoot things will eventually come out of the woodwork.  Oh, yes, you’d be surprised.

4.  Get yourself a good sharp knife, a pile of freezer paper, and this book:

5.  Also, sturdy rubber gloves.  You don’t want mad deer disease.

6.  Tell your crazy hunting friends to shoot all the big furry animals they like.  And then to drop the carcass off at your place.  Immediately.  None of this ridiculous “aging” business.  Gross.

7.  Quit being so squeamish. Tofu is over-rated.

8. Sanitize, sanitize, sanitize.

9.  Long slow moist heat solves all cooking problems.

10.  Eat.

6.

Don’t forget to pray for Allie Hathaway.

7.

We label all our venison with the date it was wrapped, name of the hunter, a note about what animal it is, and the cut of meat.  So you might see a package that says something like, “Eddie – Buck – 10/2011 – Shank”.

Which is all very well until we have to explain why there are packages in our freezer saying, “John Doe Shoulder 12/2011.”