Teen Girls Need Real Love - A Talk About Chastity

Chastity and the Teen Girl

Some time ago, Jennifer Fitz asked LarryD from Acts of the Apostasy all about chastity and teenage boys:

So here’s a two-part question I still need you guys to answer for me:

• How should a boy deal with the, shall we say, overwhelming physical urges, that are known to afflict young men?

• And how does a mother, or father, provide these bits of practical advice without making the boy die from embarrassment?

The going advice in popular culture is not so helpful, since it tends to run exactly counter to CCC 2352 and 2396.

 He got the bright idea that I might like to write a companion piece about girls, and he was right!  I would like to write the companion piece, so thanks for thinking of me!



Having once been a teenage girl (with a past I'm not always so proud of) and now being the mother of a teenage girl, I have a slight amount of experience in this area.  There are the things I tell/show my own daughter, and the things I desperately wish my parents had told/shown to me.

A lot of folks seem to have the idea that girls are all kinds of crazy emotion looking for an outlet, or that they must be purely sexual instinct looking for a place to happen, which means that we as parents must learn to contain one and reign in the other. Which isn't to say that the over the top emotions or biological drives don't exist,  (Believe me, they do!) but there is a tendency when we discuss teenage girls to forget about their brains.  These are young women with intellects!  Okay, those intellects are often driven by emotions and biology, but that's okay.  You can work with that.

Let's start at the very beginning.....what is chastity?  It means your mind is clean, your heart is pure, and your clothes are ON!  It's a fruit of the Holy Spirit...that doesn't mean you have to be a be a person of Faith to be chaste, but it sure does make it a whole lot easier.

Talking chastity with your daughter should begin when she is very young.  It is easiest if you lay the foundation there.  I don't mean that you need to be having frank discussions about sex with your preschooler.  Heavens no!  But it is when she is a little, little girl that she needs to learn she can trust you.  If you don't earn her trust in the very beginning, you can regain it, it just takes a lot more work, and a lot more proving yourself to her. 

I'm not a fan of mothers being best friends with their children.  Moms need to be the grown up authority figure, and girls need someone else to whom they can speak when mom drives them crazy, which doesn't mean that you can't have a friendly relationship.  In fact, it's the kind I highly recommend.  You didn't have that child so that you could fight all the time did you? (If you did, you might need a little help.  Sorry, but who goes looking for trouble?) You had this child with the dream of a future of fun, laughter, and family.  Are you working to create that culture in your home?  Here's a way to tell....when your child needs someone to be "Dear Abby" for her, and we all need that advice person in our lives, are you the person she comes to?  Are you her confidante?  If not, is there a reason for that?  Is there something you can do to correct that?  If you don't know where to begin to fix it, ask her!  What good is a teenage girl if not for her brutal honesty?

In addition to trust, you have to tell your daughter what you expect of her and not be vague about it.  Which means, of course, that you have to know what you think about chastity, dating, and boys....not the ever threatened "no dating until you're 35!" but a realistic and honest idea of what her parents consider to be appropriate.  She's also going to need an explanation why those are the rules.  It's so tempting to assert our authority and draw lines in the sand, but girls need the why.  Without an explanation, you're just restraining her actions and not teaching her anything.  Children will rise to the level of your expectations for them if they know they don't have to attempt that climb on their own, so let her know you'll be right beside her as her help and counsel for as long as she needs you.  (And she'll need you at least until she heads off to college.)

Ours knows that her father and I don't approve of dating in high school.  She can have guy friends and even boys she likes, but one on one dating?  No way.  Her parents are members of the first generation ever to date for fun, and it was a disaster for most of the people we knew.  Even the best kids fell victim to the temptations set before them, because 16 really isn't that old (and the 12 year olds who are dating nowadays?  That's just crazy!)  We trust her, and she trusts herself, but we've all agreed not to tempt her beyond her power to resist.  The crazy thing is that once we explained the why to her, and let her take a look around at the unhappiness of her dating friends (who seem to be experiencing a new heartbreak every week) she agreed with us. 



Moms need to talk to their daughters from the truth of their own experiences.  That doesn't mean you have to share the gory details, but she's definitely entitled to the lessons you learned along the way.  We talk about boys, my daughter and I.  We discuss the annoying boys who try to hold her hand or constantly text her even when she has no interest in them (and has told them so!), and we talk about the boy she wishes would hold her hand but doesn't because they've decided it's best to just be friends for now.  I've taken one look at the new boy down the street and told her exactly why she should run away from his bad-boy grin...because oh my does he have that down pat.  I've told her how to spot a boy who respects her, and that boys who don't listen when she says she doesn't date aren't going to listen when she tells them she doesn't do other things either.

Most girls who sleep around do so to feel loved.  It's amazing what girls and even women will do to have someone hold them close and say "I love you."  That's why we make sure to tell her that we do.  Often.  Be sure to hug your daughter and tell her you love her, because if you don't then some yucky boy sure will. That was one of the biggest lessons I learned as a wayward teen.  Her parents need to make her feel safe and cherished, or she will go looking for the illusion of love and safety. Girls need to be loved.  They need to see it.  They need to hear it.  There is no such thing as saying it too often.

So, tell her the truth of it all.  You don't want her to be chaste for you, you want it for her.  Chastity is a gift straight from God.  It protects the heart, safeguards the mind, and shelters the soul.  The world will entice her to itself with promises of excitement and romance, but tell her about the sorrow and regret which follow on their heels.  Tell her about biology and the chemical reactions sex causes in the brain.  Tell her about the emotional train wreck that comes along with "just foolin' around." Tell her all she stands to lose if she loses her head.

And then tell her the truth about love and joy.  Be honest with her about the beauty of sex when it's right.  Tell her of the rapturous beauty of the marital embrace.  Give her the hope and knowledge that her patience and self control will one day pay off for her, and that the hard work will be worth it.

Then pray with her and for her.  We pray for her strength and for the man she will someday marry. (Unless she goes to the convent...which her daddy wouldn't mind at all.)  I want her to know that he's out there, and that he needs her prayers even now....because he's fighting the same battle she is, and he can use all the prayers he can get.






Now head on over to LarryD's and see what he has to say about the boys!

3 1/2 Time Outs - the totally random version

Helping Larry D take over the internet one meme at a time.

1.
The neighbor's boy was at our house yesterday telling my children all of the reasons he wishes he were homeshooled.  He mentioned things like not having to do as much work, there being no math, and his getting to play video games all day.  My own children were a bit incredulous that this was his vision of their days, and if that's what other homeschoolers do....why hadn't someone told their mom?

Then he said "Yeah, and if I don't get my work done, the teacher makes me go sit in a special room all by myself, not talking allowed, and I have to stay there until I catch up on my work.  You don't have that at all."

"Sure we do." #3 replied. "It's called the dining room."

2.
The baby slept all night last night in spite of the wild spring storm outside.  She snoozed through rain, wind, hail, thunder, and the horrible noise which is her mother's snoring......but her father's snort at 5:30?  That woke her right up.

3.
My children are fascinated by the giant frog in the back yard that's eating the tiny toads.  They're equally repulsed and in awe of his nonchalant cannibalism.  I'm not sure they're actually bringing the tiny toads to him, but I wouldn't put it past them.  They can't get enough of the "monster frog" they've named Frank.

3 1/2.
One of my closest friends is moving today for the fifth time in 5 years.  I'm glad to be here for her to talk to, but I'm even happier it's not me.

Election Prediction

" I know who you're voting for this November," I laughingly said to the other big family mama at the pool this morning.

"Really?" Her eyebrows went up. "Because we live in this neighborhood so we must be Republicans?"

"No."

"Oh, we have a big family so we must be LDS?"  (That's another way of saying Mormon, y'all.)

"Uh-uh"

She frowned a bit. "Is it because we're white?"

"No.  It's because I overheard you talking to your 4 year old, and his name is Romney."

...because it's a verb

"I'll do it, mom," my 10 year old son said as he grabbed the baby out of my arms for a diaper change.  It was the 3rd time of the day he had volunteered to change her diaper.  Now, he's a nice kid, but what person volunteers for a diaper change?

"You're offering to do it?" I queried. "What have you done and how much is it going to cost to fix it?" 

He just smiled at me and shook his head.  "I just love her, mom."

He went on to explain that he wanted the baby to smile at him the way she smiles at me, so he's doing the things I do.  "I started off by playing with her all the weird games you play, and she just acted scared.  Then I remembered that in the beginning all you did was feed her, change her, and carry her around....so that's what I did for her....but not the feeding part, 'cause I'm a guy.  Now she smiles at me and I'm pretty much her second favorite person now.  I can play with her now and she laughs, because she knows I'm going to play with her and I'll take care of her, too.  She loves me because I love her.  She knows it because I showed her so."

I just couldn't stop myself from smiling at the man he is becoming.  Which is when he gave me that disgusted why-is-my-mom-looking-at-me-that-way? look and said "What?"

 

I spend a lot of time with my children in trying to teach them that love is actions not words.  Love is a verb. It's what you do and what you're willing to do that counts. Somehow he learned all that even at his young age.  He's already so much smarter about life than I had ever hoped to be.

I keep thinking that I'm teaching them about life, but there are many, many days when it seems like the lessons are meant for me.

The Way God Planned It

Once there were grandparents who longed for Catholic grandchildren.  They had raised their own children in the Church, but they had fallen away and taken their children out of the Church with them. The grandparents went to Mass and prayed their rosaries faithfully and asked God to soften the hearts of those they loved, wouldn't He please give to them Catholic grandchildren?


Across town, a mother held her new baby and prayed.  She was falling in love with the faith in which she'd been raised, but there were so few Catholic relatives left.  Why couldn't God bring her family back to the Church?  Why didn't they want the treasure she had discovered? Wouldn't God please find some way to give her children a Catholic family?


One August Sunday morning, a baby cried in church.  The grandmother peeked over her shoulder and grinned at the tiny boy with fluffy hair, his wriggling older brother, and their shyly peeking sister.  Her eyes met the eyes of their mother, and her face softened into a grandmother's knowing smile.

It was not long before that fluffy head was resting in the grandmother's arms as she crooned to him a lullaby.  The small girl soon found that the grandfather's lap was her favorite place to curl up and sit.  The middle child discovered to his delight what it meant to have adoring grandparents living just on the other side of town.  

More babies came, as babies will, and the grandparents welcomed them all and enfolded them in their embrace, loving each one as their own .  As the children grew, they knew that they were well loved by these grandparents who were their very own. 

It wasn't long before the mother and the grandmother knew that they were the answer to each other's prayers. Both had begged God for a family to uphold them in faith and love them well, and each had found her own prayers answered......not as she had thought she wanted, but in the perfection of God's plan.

The family we never knew we always wanted.

*From our Oma: " You are so right. I never wanted anything except Grandchildren in the Church to share with them the beauty of our wonderful Faith. I never had thought that my Children would live life without the Church I so love. I still pray but I also revel in the beauty of Catholic Grandchildren that I can share my own story with and know they understand what I felt then and do now. Love you Oma"

3 1/2 Time Outs Tuesday - The Wednesday Edition

Helping LarryD take over the internet one meme at a time!

While chatting with LarryD this morning **cough beating him at Words with Friends cough** he casually mentioned (threatened me with bodily harm) that I had not yet done this week's 3 1/2, and in fact had not done one for last week either.  I asked him if that meant I owed him 7 Quick Takes, he muttered something about Jennifer Fulwiler and then told me to get to work.

"I have no ideas this week," I told him.

"Write about Texas," he replied, "You never seem to run out of reasons why it's so great."

He's right!  Texas rocks! I could do this with one arm tied behind my back.  But I'm not gonna 'cause I don't wanna. (Somewhere an English teacher just rolled in her grave.)



So here's the "Why Y'all Should Come to Texas Other Than You'd Get to Say Y'all a Lot" edition of 3 1/2 time outs.

1.

The people are friendly here.  #2 says "Seriously, how many people are you going to meet here who want to beat you up for fun?"  I wasn't aware that this was a problem for him on the mean streets of Oklahoma, but it's definitely a plus.

He's right.  I've been here an entire year and no one's tried to beat me up yet, and if you knew me you'd know what an accomplishment that was.

2.

While other folks are trying to drown defenseless chipmunks. (I'm eyeballin' you LarryD) Seriously, you're worried about these guys?

We have serious varmints down here we're trying to wrangle.

Guys like this

but we ain't afeared of him! No sir, we round 'em up and eat 'em!

Heck, we like 'em so much that we give 'em their own queen!

Unless these are the chipmunks you're drowning, and then I say "Good on ya!"

3.

Stetson hats.  Because......yeah.....

*swoon*

3 1/2.

Oh, yeah....and you can ride a cow here if that's your thing.

Firepower

Yesterday morning, our beloved #4 received Her Lord in the Eucharist for the first time.  She was beautiful and resolute as she approached the altar.  At last the day she had waited for had arrived.  She walked up the aisle with only a small limp, so vastly improved from the awkward lurch of a month ago.  God had heard her prayer that she not have to do it "with my cane or a wheelchair.  I want to be able to walk it." And she did.

Walking it by herself

This morning as she made her Second Holy Communion, I laughed to see her face contort with distaste as she took the cup.
"It tastes bad, doesn't it?" Her brother asked.  
"I never expected blood to taste good." She replied.



She is delighted to get to go to Communion with us.  I am ecstatic because it means she can now receive Anointing of the Sick.  My heart grieved earlier this year that the Graces of this Sacrament were denied her because she had not yet made her First Communion.

She may not need it today, but she will in the future.  It's just a fact of Juvenile Arthritis; it comes back.  The next time it flares up, she will have in her arsenal the Eucharist and the Sacrament of the Sick.  We need all the firepower we can get, and yesterday she added some heavy artillery.







If you're like me, you're wanting to see what that headpiece looks like up close.  Here it is!  Isn't it grand?

Answers (for Karyn and Lena)

Lena asked when there would be a new blog header.   The answer is now.   I have an idea in my mind, but haven't gotten it done yet.  This one will be up until I do, if it ever happens.

Let's start with Karyn's easy peasy ones:
And a more mundane question - I have been veiling at church. But when am I suppose to put the veil on and when do I take off? Like...do I only wear it in the sanctuary and take it right off as I leave? Is it okay to put it on and off in the van? I don't know anyone else who veils in order to ask. I know this has already been answered in the comments on another post, but I'll answer it, too.  I don't think there are any hard and fast rules.  My grandmother put hers on in the car so that she could get it perfect with the aid of a mirror.  I put mine on just before I enter the nave of the church. (Mostly because chasing my sons will cause it to fly right off of my head.) You are supposed to wear it the entire time you are in the presence of the Tabernacle.  That's Jesus in there! so we cover our heads in respect. Mine also comes off almost as soon as I leave the church itself.  I have to chase those boys again and I don't want it in the dirt.

Okay, last question - who is your patron (or favorite) saint? I see the three on the side here but I don't know if they're for specific causes (such as St. Aphonsus for your daughter) - but do you have a "go-to" saint?  My go to girl is St Rita of Cascia.  She's the patroness of impossible causes.  I love her, and she's helped to pray me out of many a tight spot.
St Catherine of Alexandria is my Confirmation saint.  She's a girl who was known for having a big mouth and talking herself into all kinds of trouble. :) Whenever I need to have a serious discussion with someone or stand up in front of a crowd for a talk, she's the girl I'm asking for help. I figure she knows what to ask for.
St Michael is there because I pray his prayer and ask for his intercession whenever I find myself in the midst of spiritual warfare or when I'm really afraid.  That's when an Angel with a sword is handy to have around


Woohoo, that was fun! Wish I had some "real life" Catholic moms around me to ask questions like that!It was fun!  Please ask anytime you want to know something (and this goes for anyone else, too.)




Now for the hard one:

Well...okay. I'm a more recent convert but I'm finding that I'm becoming more and more of a traditional Catholic, despite my RCIA training, lol. Anyway, what are some of the church teachings you struggle with the most? Maybe you obey them because they are the Church's teachings but you don't fully understand the reason for them and/or the teachings just go against your nature.

Let me start off by welcoming you to the Church!  My husband is a convert or 5 years and I see him becoming more traditional as well. I think it's normal to fall in love and be drawn ever closer.

It's no secret around here that the one I struggle the most with is the ban on contraception.  I understand banning those which are aboritfacients, but oh how I wish the others weren't there.  I don't want any more children.  As the mom of 7 I feel as if I am at my limit in terms of resources, time, patience, attention, etc.  I have pretty severe ADD and being unmedicated is a trial.  Knowing that a new baby means I'm on my own for the 9 months of pregnancy plus however long I'm nursing is not something I ever want to think about. Which makes the idea of a new baby exhausting to me.  Add onto that that my husband really doesn't want more and it is truly a struggle for both of us.  I recognize that most of my reasons for not wanting a #8 are selfish, but I often wonder if that's always a bad thing. 

We would joyfully welcome another baby just as we have all of our unplanned children, but it would be the struggle it always is in the beginning to find the joy and not the weariness.  God has already shown us many times that nothing we do to prevent them will stop what is His will.  When we began studying the Church's teachings, we recognized the wisdom and love of the ban on contraception.  I just wish it wasn't.  I wish I didn't agree with the Church, because it's a daily struggle against myself to follow her teachings.

Which is probably why it is good for me.  It reminds the control freak in me that I'm not in charge....ever.  It tells the selfish part of me to pipe down, and pushes me to grow to a better person ever closer to God.  That said, there are days when I wonder how long the sentence is in Purgatory for getting those tubes tied. 

(Not that I will....don't start lecturing me.)

Banana Bread for Danya

Once upon a time I made sad, dry banana bread.  It was pathetic how bad it was.  Then my sweet friend Kara gave me her not so secret recipe and I never looked back.

I have a bowl full of nasty bananas, Danya needs help, and Karen has extra buttermilk....so let's get baking!

Kara's Amazingly Tasty Always Divine Banana Bread

1/2 cup butter, softened
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar, packed
2 eggs
3-4 bananas, mashed ( I always use 4)
2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 cup buttermilk or soured milk
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup nuts chopped (I use almonds and add a splash of almond extract)

oven 350

cream butter and sugar. Add bananas.  Mix. Add all remaining ingredients
except nuts.  Mix.  Add nuts.  Stir.  Pour into greased and floured loaf
pan.  Bake at 350 for 1-1 1/2 hours until done.  Outside will be dark, so
DON'T PANIC.  Makes 1 loaf.

Try not to eat it all at once.

The Commitment

This past weekend, I went to the homeschool convention in Arlington. As I sat down for the first talk on Saturday morning, I looked around at all the young (oh my goodness they were young!) faces of the moms just beginning on this journey.  At 37, I definitely wasn't the oldest mom in the room, but I was at least 15 years older than the youngest. I looked down at the baby hanging out in her sling and it hit me....I've been homeschooling for 12 years and #7 means I'll be at it for at least 18 more.

Holy crap.

30 years.  That's my whole life. Well, a big ol' chunk of it teaching preschool, Algebra, and physics all side by side.  It was in that moment that I felt exhausted. What about me?  What about the plans I had and have for myself? In the prime of my life with so many dreams unfulfilled....what about me? 30 years. More if there's ever a #8.  Holy. freaking. moly.

And I knew that I want to quit.  Just chuck it all and walk away. There are better things I could be doing with my life.  Important and memorable things. Things which will last forever!









Things like my children and their immortal souls.Which, incidentally, are the only things which last forever. 






















I was reminded this weekend of the time #2 spent in the NICU dying.  (Just because you're dying doesn't mean you do.  You can recover, but he was surely dying.)  The awful very bad time when I pleaded with God to trade my life for his.  "Please take my life in trade for his, let me die if he can live," I begged.


Did I mean it?  Did I really mean I would give my own life for his or did I only mean I'd die willingly right there on the spot?  What if the death He asks for is a long, slow painful death to self?  Say...... 30 years or more of dying to myself?  Am I willing to make that trade for him? For them all?

Why You Should Never Listen to Me

People tell me all the time "You're so smart, I love to talk to you." (I'm not making that up.  They tell me that. Really.) They come to me for advice about home schooling, parenting, life, or matters of faith.  I'm really not sure why. Here are all the reasons lately why those same people have told me I'm wrong and going to Hell.  They're also the reasons that if you're coming here for wisdom, you probably should go somewhere else. (All this stuff has been said to me at least once as to why I'm not as great as I think I am.  I already knew I wasn't.....which is part of why I'm so great!)

• I'm in favor of traditional marriage and am therefore a big ol' bigot and religious zealot.  Doesn't matter my reasoning....seriously..........h.a.t.e.r.
• I have gay friends and (gasp!) let them around my children. I even trust them around my children. I happen to think they're some of the nicest people I know. I really like them.  They're great people. I wish we could hang out more often.
• I'm a crazy conservative Catholic who wears a mantilla to Mass and is obviously trying to drag us back into the Dark Ages. (Bring on the Inquisition!)
• I wear pants.  I'm a girl.  It can't be allowed.  No excuses. It allows men to see the shape of my.....and lead them to thoughts...and the seams on jeans......have you noticed the pocket placement? Oh my. Scandalous! (Oh those lustfully lustful thoughts of me....in jeans...or shorts.....ummmmm....yeah.)
• I homeschool my children, keeping them completely sheltered from the outside world.  Poor little un-socialized things. However will they function in the outside world?  I'm setting them up for social awkwardness and a life of never fitting in. (Because I knew this kid once, well..not well...but I knew him...and he was homeschooled.....he was totally awkward.  Not as much as the kid with the glasses in the high school band who played the tuba? But the homeschool kid was definitely weird.)
• I sent my son to a traditional school for a year, allowing him to be corrupted and tainted by "The World". Never mind learning disabilities, specialized help, etc.  None of that matters!  He should be happy to be stupid at home! (They're going to teach him about sex, drugs, and rock and roll!  Oh, horrors!  The corruption!)
• We pray together as a family, further brainwashing my children and indoctrinating them into our belief system.  The fact that they ask for a Family Rosary time is just proof of how far gone our family really is.  (Little Papist freaks!)
• We don't have time for Daily Mass. I forget the Angelus every stinking day. I haven't been to Adoration in....a really long time.  Definitely going to Hell. (I'm pretty sure I have reserved seating just across from the lake of burning sulfur.)
• I raise my children on the idea of Catholic guilt.  Don't want to go to Mass?  I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't want to be nailed to a Cross either. If He could do that for you, you can go to Mass.  (What? A little guilt is good for them.  It puts hair on the chest.)
• I haven't dragged them to Confession in a shockingly long time.  Really.  Shockingly. (I could defend myself by citing awkward times, but I'd be lying...and then I'd have to go to Confession....which I don't go to often enough....vicious cycle.)
• I voted for Ron Paul in the 2008 primaries. (Best man for the job, hands down.)
• I didn't vote for Ron Paul this time. (That dude is crazy!)
• I think that chastity is a perfectly reasonable thing to expect of teenagers.  I teach them morals.  There.  I said it out loud.  I believe in innocence and purity.  I believe those to be good things. Always.  (Shelter and protect them.  Lock them in the basement.  It's for their own good.  Really)
• I talk about sex (and write about it) a lot.  Seriously.  I do.  I love my husband.  I still find him incredibly hot.  It's one of my favorite things.  (Which, I've been told, is immoderate and vulgar to say, but whatev.) Which leads us to...
• I have seven children. 7.  S.E.V.E.N.  It's a lot. Even I think so. I'm destroying the environment.  It's irresponsible of me.  It's a vagina not a clown car.  (It really isn't a clown car, you know.)
• I've used contraception in the past. (Gasp!) I totally understand people who do.  I get the whole "I'm done" mentality.  I truly do. There are days when I fantasize about getting a tubal.  (Let them get going and the noise levels swell.....and I start muttering "cut. burn. tie."
• I use the word "y'all" in conversation a lot.  I have a noticeable drawl, and I speak at a speed guaranteed to drive a New England yankee batty.
• I use words like "antidisetablishmentarianism" in everyday speech.  Darn that Webster's dictionary I got for a gift when I was 10.  (Which seemed lame at the time, but I'm wowing 'em with word power today!)

So, you see?  Completely unreliable.  Not a paragon of anything.  You should never come to me for advice about anything. Ever.

Unless you want to know about politics, or religion, all things Texas, yeah...okay...homeschooling, loving your man, cooking, baking.....never ask me about housekeeping 'cause I stink at it.......but yeah friendship, prayer, book suggestions, which shoes to wear, jewelry, etiquette (because the same person who gave me the dictionary at 10 gave me Emily Post at 16), fun, laughter, weird baby names, tiny toad blood baths, menu planning, blogging, ironing, salsa music,  sippy cups, playgroups, mean girls, nice girls, picking friends.................

3 1/2 Time Outs Tuesday - Lucky # 13

Helping LarryD take over the internet one meme at a time.

1.

Summer has almost arrived at our house, and with it comes the annual tiny toad invasion.  At this moment, five of my children are scouring the back yard looking for them.  They're little guys, no bigger than a quarter, but there are a lot of them.  As in even the Bible people would be saying "Wow.  That's a lot of toads."  The last report brought to me by my 5 year old was that they'd caught 16 this morning.  yippee.

It will make for a bloodbath come Saturday's lawn mowing.  The toads may be tiny, and they may be cute, but they aren't smart enough to get out of the way of a weed eater.  We may need therapy by August.

2.

Know what tiny toads bring with them?  Things that eat tiny toads.....like snakes.

Sunday morning, there was a 2 footer on our back patio.  Thank goodness #2 is a boy scout.  He looked at our visitor and said "He's not venomous.  His head isn't triangular.  Also mom, he's dead.  Snakes don't lie on their backs."  Hooray!

3.

Something killed that snake.

3 1/2.

#7 is no joke crawling at 5 1/2 months old, and when she can get hold of her dad to pull herself up, she's standing.  We're

Craving Vanilla

The little girls at the pool were running, splashing, and calling out to one another.  There were 6 of them, and as their mothers called out to them to slow down and walk, I heard their names, all so creative as to be almost exotic.  It quickly became a game of make-believe as any gathering of 8 year old girls will, and they began calling out their "names" to each other.

"Call me Susan!"
"I'm Annie!"
"I want to be Emily, but spelled the regular way!"

Across the way, a little boy's face changed from boredom to annoyance as he waited for his mother to stop explaining the elaborate snack she had devised for him.  His little hand kept darting out to snatch grapes and shove them in his mouth as his mother continued to regale her friends with tales of her own cleverness.

That's when the truth hit me.  Motherhood has become a full contact competitive sport, and the children don't seem to be amused.

Where birthday parties once were centered around cake, friends, and goofy games; they now involve designer cakes,

Exhibit A: The First Birthday cake

paid entertainment,

face painters,

elaborate bounce houses,

 and expensive party favors.

Children's parties have become an physical representation of how adored a child is instead of a celebration of his being alive.  It's funny too, because the parties my own children talk about for weeks are the ones where they get to run and play with the other kids without too much input from the grownups.  They'd much rather the moms hang out in the kitchen than have them directing them in how to have fun.  They like the simple ones best.

Then there are the names....oh those horrendously spelled children's names.  What are parents trying to prove?  The intention behind giving a unique name to each child and thereby making her stand out from her peers seems to be an obvious one.  Which is why you're much more likely to meet a Paisley at the playground than a Mary. What these parents don't seem to realize is that when everyone's name is unique,they all blend in together and become a new kind of common.  So how to set them apart? Spelling of course, because Megan isn't fabulous enough, so she's names Meaghanne. And whom do these fabulously named children want to be?  "Emily, spelled the regular way."

Are we doing a disservice to our children by being continually in pursuit of

In making their everyday lives a living fairy tale, what are we leaving for them to dream about?


They're dreaming of vanilla.  They're yearning for simple, honest, and unfussy.  They want to be able to pull on t-shirts and run in the grass.  They want to go to the pool and not have to worry about remembering to wear the matching hair bow.  They want mom to show she loves them by spending her time with them instead of her money on them. They want to be able to spell their own names.

To My Daughter on Her Confirmation Day

Fifteen years ago, your father and I took you to church for your Baptism.  As we stood before God and our family we gave you a delicate and  feminine name which seemed to sum up the tiny pink bundle you were.  That long ago day, we swore to raise you in the knowledge of Truth and the love of Christ Jesus.  We thanked Our Father for the great gift of you, and returned you back into His care.

This morning, we listened with pride and great joy as you reaffirmed the promises we had made.  You stood so straight and tall as you made your Profession of Faith in response to the bishop's queries.  You didn't hesitate for even a moment, fully embracing all that it means to be a Catholic and a follower of Christ in this world.

You chose for your sponsor a young woman of great faith and quiet strength.  You showed great wisdom when you selected her.  She will be for you a friend, a prayerful supporter, and a source of wisdom should you ever need to call on her.

Just as at your Baptism, you took on a new name this morning, but this one you selected for yourself.  Unlike the gentle name your father and I picked for you, you took on the name of a warrior for the Faith.  Your new name carries with it the history of a woman who was on fire with love for God, a woman filled with religious zeal and fearless devotion.  Your saint was a woman of boldness, determination, and a woman not afraid of causing a little ruckus when she was in the right.  A woman a lot like the woman I see in you.

It is beautiful to see the way you have taken our ancient and beautiful religion into your heart and embraced it until is has become a part of who you are.   As you continue to grow and learn, please remember that although your faith is now your own, your father and I are still here beside you through it all.  We are so incredibly proud of the person you are and of the woman you are becoming.  We wait with great excitement and anticipation to see what plans God has for you, my beautiful girl.



God bless you, #1.  St Marciana of Mauretania, pray for us.

Prom

#1 went to the Prom last weekend with her best friend.  (His mom drove.) They had a great time.  Since I'm busy today with prep for her Confirmation tomorrow (pray for her will ya?), I thought I'd share some pictures.

Enjoy!

This one's my favorite

They're great kids and two of my favorite teenagers ever!  He's got a blog.  You should go check it out, say 'hi'.  Tell him I sent you!


And just for fun.  Here's their "Tangled" moment.

He may have a good "smolder", but she's got a big frying pan!

God Has a Sense of Humor -- Do You?

The longer I blog, the more I read, the more I become convinced that there's an underground network of Christian people who have decided that laughter is a sin.  I've been chastised for my sarcasm, seen others ridiculed for their satire, and read the comments of too-many-to-count who seem to think that faith equals no sense of humor.

Well, I hate to break it to those people, but God's funny.  It's often a dry sense of humor which makes you question if He was serious or not, but sometimes it's flat out slapstick....and the sarcasm?  I love it!  Do you realize that if sarcasm were a sin there'd be no Irishmen in Heaven?  It's a fact.  I know it is. Trust me.  I've met quite a few Irishmen

Don't those holier-than-thou types read their Bibles?  They never read where Batholomew says of Jesus "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?"  Jesus' friends were funny.  If you really read what they're talking about as they're following Him around...there's a lot of joking going on.  So why do these modern day Christians think there's something wrong with laughing?

'Cause God's funny.  Only a guy with a sense of humor could think this up

Amorphophallus titanum - roughly translates to "giant misshapen male genitalia" proving that scientists are funny, too

Isn't it gorgeous?  Deep purple and huge...it can grow to be over 10 feet high.  It looks like there need to be Oompah Loompas circling it and dancing.  I'd almost love one in my yard.

Almost.

Because it smells like rotting flesh.  Yes, that's the corpse flower.  It might be pretty, but you'd better bring your gas mask when you go to see it.

He's poking fun at us. I know He is because it's crazy rare and only blooms once every couple years, so when it does people will line up for hours to go see it.  Hours in the heat of summer to see something which makes you want to retch?  I'm pretty sure the joke's on us!


"Ah," they'll say, "it's not really funny.  It's an adaptation for............."

What? I stopped listening.  I have no time for that kind of nonsense.  And it is nonsense.  What kind if Heaven do the non-laughing ones look forward to?  It sounds like boring afternoons at my Grandma's house listening to the clock tick away the painfully slow seconds while Grandpa snored in his easy chair.  Although come to think of it......they had no air conditioning in South Texas......in the Summer......maybe it's a better example of someplace else.  (Not that I didn't like my grandparents, non-humorous people, but those were the most boring afternoons ever.)

I don't know who they're wanting to hang out with for all Eternity, but I want to hang with the guy who made this stuff

You can see his brain!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

His hands are bigger than his head. BIGGER THAN HIS HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I think that red thingy is his head. How do you tell?)

He spits blood from his eyeballs.  Proving, I'm sure, that God wanted me to chase my shrieking brother around the yard shooting eyeball blood at him.

One of my favorite funny faces.

And then there's this thing....I have no clue what it is, but it looks like what God does with the leftover bits.

It's an animal.  I swear it is.  It's totally gross looking but I can't stop staring at him....her.......it

So those of you laughing along, keep yucking it up.  God wants us to laugh or he wouldn't have given us so many reasons.

For those of you shaking your heads in disapproval or readying your fingers to let me know all the ways I'm wrong.........I can take it.  I'm all ready for you.  I put on my big girl panties this morning and everything.  But first can you answer a couple questions for me?  What does your Heaven look like, and why on Earth would I want to go there?







I wasn't too rough on you, was I?  Need a hug?

There, there....it's all better now.