It's Not Too Late!

Outside my window:  The first Sunday of Advent, Mike and I escaped for a few hours alone to celebrate his birthday. The girls decorated the house for Christmas in our absence. when we arrived home, it had just turned dark. Through my sewing room window, I could see Nutcracker costumes piled high and in the hallway beyond, there was our Nutcracker collection. A child in our house receives a Nutcracker to mark their first performance. Since Dad has been pressed into the role of Drosselmeyer, and more than one brother has been the prince, they have Nutcrackers, too. The sight made me catch my breath. I've tried and tried to catch it adequately with my camera, but this picture doesn't quite do it justice. . 

Listening to: Traffic. I'm at Kristin's keeping the dog company while they are out of town. It's noisy outside her window.

Clothing myself in: Sweatshirt and yoga pants. That dog and I are about to go for a long walk.

Thinking and thinking: About Advent. Nutcracker really consumed much of the first week. But now, I'm ready to settle into a quieter rhythm. I'm excited about my own book! (Does that sound strange?) It's been lovely to have a clickable Table of Contents and have a map for each day come alive on the screen. It's not too late for our family to live everything this season has to offer. It's not too late for you either. 

Here's what some people are saying about the book:

So. I've been reading the daily advent quotes, prayers and reflections in the Ebook bundle that [Elizabeth] and [Kristin] put together this year and I've felt such a sense of calm and peace over the last few days. Nothing has changed except my attitude and perspective, but isn't that usually the most important stuff to change? That strangest part is that each day I've done one small thing to prepare for His coming rather than try to "GET IT ALL DONE RIGHT NOW" the way my results-oriented self usually wants to do it. Yesterday, we baked salt dough ornaments and I brought up our main nativity. Today, I got some extra greenery while we were out and beautified the mantel (I am love with how it looks! Simple but elegant.) The kids painted their ornaments. I'm moving from one required  task to the next, but trying to leave room in my mind and heart to say "yes" to the little extras that I normally think I don't have the time or energy to do. "Lord, give me the grace to be the mom and wife I can't be on my own." Anyway! This is too long! You can get the Ebook yourself...I do recommend it. "

--Dwija, House Unseen

And it's not just for Catholics. Here's a review from a Protestant perspective: 

Elizabeth Foss is a good friend of mine and has mentored me over the years in mothering and intentional traditions. As a mama of nine, she has much wisdom, experience, humility and perspective to share. She has put together a beautiful Advent ebook this year that I spent hours last night reading and pondering. Written from a Catholic perspective, her gentle voice will reorient your heart towards the Infant Jesus through teaching you to pray, to trust, to wait and also very practical suggestions for celebrations, feast days, recipes and crafts. I have read and looked at many Advent resources over the years, and this is the first one that really seems to understand the strain that mothers are under during this season and encourages and guides and gives lots and lots of grace. It's on sale through tomorrow for $9 which is the price of a fast food combo meal these days. This will be slow food for your soul. Well worth it. --Aimee Kollmansberger

Talking with my children about these books:  We are using a bit of a hodgepodge approach to our Advent unit studies this year. A little from the great, good Tomie de Paola unit. A little from the evergreen botany, with some Nutcracker thrown in. And a little more from Christmas Around the World, and then all the old favorites. Plenty to read! I talked with Sarah recently about reading aloud during this time of year. Such a fun podcast:-)

In my own reading: I'm still listening to Brene Brown's Rising Strong. I loved The Gifts of Imperfection and Daring Greatly. I like this one even more. It's uncanny how she's so definitely inside my head. It feels like she's cleaning things up and de-cluttering it, rearranging it a little to make it much more functional. Highly recommended.

Learning lessons In: Letting go. Michael begins his new job today. In California. I've felt this feeling in the pit of my stomach before. I felt it when I left my baby with my mother-in-law to go back to work after my first child was born. It was all I could do to hang on by my fingernails until we could work out another solution. I felt it again when Patrick left home at 15 to live for a year in Florida with the US National Team U-17s. I felt it when Michael left for college. And then when the others left. I felt it when I left my baby in the NICU and drove away without her. 

They were all temporary. It is entirely possible that this separation is not. We carry them and bear them and raise them and then they leave. That is the natural order, I'm told. Every stage of life has its challenges. Saying goodbye is the challenge of this one. Temporary goodbyes as children leave. Longer goodbyes as parents die. I am in the season of goodbye. Learning lessons here...

Encouraging learning in: Self care. Whoa, Nelly! Katie, my 13-year-old, danced 6 performance between Friday night and Sunday afternoon. She literally staggered into bed last night. I'm grateful she's homeschooled this  morning and I'm doing my darndest to help her understand how to care for herself during intense seasons.

Keeping house: Nutcracker costumes finished and ebook launched, it's time to thoroughly clean the house and get ready for the people who will fill it next week and into the Christmas season.

Crafting in the kitchen: A friend gifted me with the Whole Food Freezer Cooking Workshop and so far I'm loving it!

To be fit and happy: My friend Rachel is trying to make me run from afar. I'm grateful for the shove out the door.

Giving thanks: For your kind words about the ebook. It's always a little scary to send one's heart into the world on printed pages. Thank you for your kind responses. I'm especially grateful for the Facebook group of readers. Your enthusiasm and your ideas inspire me!

All Nutcracker pictures are the kindness of Kristin Foss.

Gathering my Thoughts

Outside my window:  It's officially freezing. 32 degrees when I checked first thing this morning. I'm so glad I got the bulbs in when I did. 

Listening to: quiet. I need to rouse the troops, but I'm relishing silence. Yesterday, for about an hour, it was only Sarah and me at home. She said, "Mama, it's so quiet here! It's only the two introverts at home. We finally got rid of of all the outtraverts. Ah!" She had a point there. It's going to get full-to-the-brim crowded here in just a few hours.

Clothing myself in: Pjs for now, but I do plan to get dressed.

Thinking and thinking: About how grateful I am for the collaborative (though extremely intense) creative effort that has been the last two weeks. In a few hours, Kristin and I will launch an Advent ebook. I thought it couldn't be done. She thought otherwise. It's a beautiful, meaningful collection of family memories and traditions. I have long said that I keep this blog for my daughters and daughters-in-love, so that they have it and the can pick and choose from the collective memory. Kristin was determined to gather Advent up into a book. And yesterday, just as we were nearly finished, we learned that she and Michael and Lucy and the baby-to-be-born are moving three thousand miles away. We might have struggled a bit together yesterday, side by side with our computers, our memories, and the revised edition of how we thought things were going to be...

Talking with my children about these books:  On election day, Karoline announced that she plans to write a book about the Civil Rights Movement. She wanted to know if such a project could count as "school." I gathered a few resources for her research and told her she could devote the month to the project. I'm sure it will be awesome. Her books always are...

In my own reading: I'm currently reading Miracles, by C. S. Lewis. And I'm listening to Brene Brown's Rising Strong. I loved The Gifts of Imperfection and Daring Greatly. I like this one even more. It's uncanny how she's so definitely inside me head. It feels like she's cleaning things up and de-cluttering it, rearranging it a little to make it much more functional. Highly recommended.

 Pondering: "You're imperfect and you're wired for struggle, but you're worth of love and belonging." Brene Brown.

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: Maybe I'm too protective of rhythm. Maybe if I were more willing to let schooling and laundry and driving kids all over slide and just throw myself into web projects, they would work. But I'd feel like a hypocrite, so I'm not going to do that. The older my kids get and the more I see the way each of them ticks, the more I believe that they all thrive when there's rhythm, when they know that the sands aren't going to shift dramatically beneath their feet at home. That way, when real life outside our home rocks them--and it does, all the time--they know I'm here and some things can be counted upon to be steady. I'm burning the candle at both ends here lately, trying to be the steady mom.

Creating By Hand: It's Nutcracker time. There is tulle and lace, lots of tulle and lace.

Learning lessons In: Praying for people and situations without telling God what to do. 

Encouraging learning in: Time management. My big kids keep getting smacked in the face by deadlines. We're all taking a hard look at what the time suckers are and trying to work on that. But, we're also looking at reasonableness. It's not reasonable to make a body work 24/7. Increasingly, our society seems to expect exactly that. Professors update on Blackboard and add to assignments on weekends. Work emails chime in inboxes at all hours of the day and night. Someone said last weekend (she might have wailed), "Why am I still sitting in this chair on a Sunday? Can't I reasonably expect at least a day off?" Yes. She can and she should. But how much of it is a problem of not using time wisely and how much is that the paradigm for work in America today assumes there should be no leisure time? Learning time management skills does mean being diligent and buckling down and avoiding distractions, but I think it also means being able to walk away from the work and recognize the value of both leisure and rest. 

Also, I sat down and talked with Ana Hahn a couple weeks ago. I very much enjoyed the conversation and it has me thinking about how much I used to love sharing more from our "schooling" here in this space. I think it might be time to revive that a bit, especially now that I'll be writing for Kristin and Lucy... You can read the conversation with Ana here. Go visit her!

Keeping house: Yesterday, I scrubbed down my wooden kitchen cabinets. They were gross. it was time. I actually like to wash woodwork because it's so rewarding to see the grime go. That room feels much cleaner now. We painted our house three years ago. I need to haul a bucket of soapy water from room to room and rub away fingerprints and smudges. And I need to put the finishing touches on an Advent ebook. And cook for Thanksgiving. And finish Nutcracker costumes. What to do? what to do?

Crafting in the kitchen: Kristin and I have been talking Thanksgiving. Mike's mother is gravely ill and she is living with his sister. They host Thanksgiving every year. While it will definitely be celebrated at his sister's house, Kristin and I are going to be the cooks this year. I haven't cooked for Thanksgiving in 24 years. (But I've wanted to for all that time.) This holiday season has the markings for being very bittersweet in several ways. There is much leaving and grieving on our horizon and we all know it. Aprons and rolling pins are good therapy.

To be fit and happy: Someone make me run. I'm better when I run. I just really need to find that particular rhythm again.

Giving thanks: For a chance to talk about Advent and prayer life two weeks ago at a local conference. It was so nice to get out and see people and hug old friends! Kristin came with me and we really enjoyed ourselves. Yesterday, I recorded that talk to offer to readers of our Advent ebook.

Loving the moments: When I get to watch him play, or when a friend in a faraway place watches him and sends me video and pictures and Facebook updates. Patrick played at Notre Dame last week and Theresa Thomas went to see him. Made me so happy! 

Patrick has had a remarkable and notable season. It kind of caught us by surprise. At the end of the summer, it looked like this was to be the season for hip surgery and a very long eight month recovery. Instead, he opted to play through the pain and delay the surgery. And he sure seized every opportunity to play really well! As the season begins to draw down, I'm seeing an inkling that his pain has probably been more than I thought. I know he'll finish strong. I also know that this semester will end at the UVa hospital, waiting for Paddy to come out of the operating room, just like last semester and the semester before. Those aren't the moments I love, but they are moments that come with the the l moments I love. He is strong and gifted and able and the pain comes with the territory.

I love the moments when hours of PT mean she can finally go up en pointe again (even if it's just for minute in the clinic). I love when my third seriously injured "child" texts from the Detroit airport and tells me her foot held up while she sprinted from one end to the other in order to catch her flight. But she, too, is looking at surgery when the semester ends. 

We take the bitter with sweet these days.

Living the Liturgy: Advent begins on Sunday. UPDATE: THE EBOOK IS NOW AVAILABLE. Click here for all the details and the limited-time low price.

Gathering Sunshine and Books

Outside my window: It’s a gorgeous August day. After a summer of oppressive heat (and very scarce air conditioning), I'm inhaling these late season days in big gulps. Low humidity makes the whole world seem a little happier, doesn’t it?

Listening to: Katie making breakfast.

Clothing myself in: Still in pjs. That means I didn’t run this morning. I really need to get my morning outdoor groove back.

(Actually, it's taken all day to get this post ready. The spinning rainbow beach ball of death has tried mightily to silence me today. So, right now, it's late evening and I'm wearing jeans and listening to bad coffee shop music while I try again during soccer practice.)

Talking with my children about these books:  Here we go! School is back in session and here in my house it’s going to be another Storybook Year. This plan holds up very, very well. So, my younger ones (though older than you might expect with picture books) will be pretty much following the tried and true storybook schoolhouse plan. Most of the booklist is here. Scroll down the list on the lefthand side for lots of links to more lists--and more and more lists:-) Our formidable collection of picture books offers plenty of opportunities to explore reading and writing as well as most of the academic subjects covered throughout the elementary years. There are lots of ways to respond and interact with picture books listed here.

In my own reading: I’m simultaneously reading Simply Tuesday, The Best Yes, and Hands Free Life.  There’s a bit of a common theme going here. Also, personal reading time took a big hit this week as school kicked in. I’m actually reading a whole lot of philosophy right now. More on that below.

Thinking and thinking: about writing an Advent workshop. I think I need a web designer. If you know someone who would be interested and who might also love Squarespace, would you drop me a note?

Pondering:

I was starting to shape a theory about dinner. I found that if I was eating well, there was a good chance I was living well, too. I found that when I prioritized dinner, a lot of things seemed to fall into place: We worked more effectively to get out of [work] on time, we dedicated time and place to unload whatever was annoying us about work and everything else, and we spent less money by cooking our own food, which meant we never felt guilty about treating ourselves to dinner out on the weekend. And perhaps most important, the simple act of carving out the ritual- a delicious homemade ritual- gave everyday purpose and meaning, no matter what else was going on in our lives.” --from Dinner: A Love Story

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: Since neighborhood kids are still summering, we’re easing back into a school year schedule. Mary Beth’s classes started this week, so I’ve begun to lay down the tracks for everyone.

Creating By Hand:  Kristin made another Geranium Dress in my [nicely cleaned and organized] sewing room yesterday. I watched her. Go me.

Encouraging learning in: Philosophy. One of Mary Beth’s classes this semester is an introductory philosophy class. As we ordered books and noted how it was very heavy on C. S. Lewis, I decided that Stephen would take this class, too. Of course, he won’t get college credit and her professor won’t see his work, but we’re going to keep up with the assignment schedule. I’ll do the reading, too, and the three of us can discuss. The pace is brisk and it will challenge him (and me), but I think we’re all going to learn a lot.

Booklist, if you’re interested:

How Do We Know?: an Introduction to Epistemology 

Prelude to Philosophy 

Complete Signature Classics of C. S. Lewis

Also, this really worthwhile article about math phobia, courtesy of Mary Beth, who has had to read it for two college math classes now. 

Keeping house: Last weekend, we were given an incredible Montessori gift. A whole lot of brand new materials became ours! Mary Beth and Katie cleaned out our sunroom and then prepared it so that when Lucy comes, she can work right alongside Sarah and Kari. The room is beautiful and it’s inspired me to similarly “prepare” the rest of the house. It’s a slow process, but we are tackling some de-cluttering and repurposing of spaces. It’s pretty cathartic; I’m purging the ugly guts of the summer.

Crafting in the kitchen: Let's talk about dinner. 

As I've reflected on the-summer-from-hell, I've naturally inclined towards thinking about what's working in my life and the life of my family and what needs to be tweaked. I often feel like my little kids are growing up in an entirely different family than my big kids did. And they are. The hope is that their parents are wiser, more patient, and more mature. And they probably are. They're also more tired, more stressed (yes--I'm sticking with that story: this stage of motherhood is far more stressful for me than having a whole bunch of kids under 13), and going in more directions. One place where I've really felt like my Philosophy of Family has take a hit is family dinners. I've long, long been a proponent of family dinners as the norm every night. But we've seriously fallen short of the mark recently. As I turn over every parenting decision I've ever made in my mind and decide whether I like them or not, I simply cannot find one thing wrong with family dinners. They are all good. They are still super important. And my six-still-at-home deserve them.

The logistics are tricky; no doubt about it.

I re-read Dinner: A Love Story last week and I read the fairly new Dinner: A Playbook: A 30-Day plan for Mastering the Art of the Family Meal. I admit that when I first read  Dinner: A Love Story I thought it was sort of ridiculous that people needed such a lot of support getting dinner on the table. Now, I see nothing but beauty in the book. I mean, really, even the title brings tears to my eyes. Dinner has a been a love story in my life. We bought our first dog when we weren't even engaged, but we found ourselves outside a grocery store shopping for ingredients to cook together and we go distracted by a puppy.  We announced our intention to get married to Mike's mother over dinner. We have announced the coming of babies over dinner. Once, my two youngest boys planted a whoopee cushion at the dinner seat of Michael's girlfriend. They still consider it their finest hour. They're also the first to tell you that they're happy that girlfriend became his wife and is a regular at our table now. And we have always, always prayed together as a family before meals. Dinner is a big deal, as it should be. 

So, even though so many things confuse me about this stage of life, dinner is simple. I'm starting with dinner. I'm going to take a page out of the Playbook and make something new for 30 days in a row, starting September 1st. I want you to hold me accountable. So, I'm going to use the new low-stress video app Periscope and invite you into my kitchen around 4:00 every day. These will be short scopes with Karoline and me (and anyone else who's hanging around). We'll show you what's for dinner and chat a little about the sort of things we talk about around my kitchen island. Occasionally, I can follow up here with notes or links to recipes. I'm planning to pull almost all the recipes from  Dinner: A Love Story, Dinner: A Playbook: A 30-Day plan for Mastering the Art of the Family Meal, or the Dinner: A Love Story blog. You can follow me on Periscope @elizabethfoss. Each day's video will be live for 24 hours. 

To be fit and happy: Tomorrow. Going to run tomorrow. Promise.

Giving thanks: Gosh. The little things are such big things these days:

• the first really good night's sleep in forever
• cooler evenings (which is partly why the above was possible)
• antibiotics (same)
• big talks with my teens
• little girls who spell sweetness with their letters
• Lucy and the magic sparkle she brings into a room...

Loving the moments: when a text pops up and the news is good. Exhale.

Living the Liturgy: Tomorrow is the feast of St. Monica. Friday is the Feast of St. Augustine. We’ve been chatting a lot lately--St. Monica, St. Augustine, and me.  That saint who was once a brilliant, philosophical boy who was so restless until his soul rested in God and his mother who was tireless in prayer. 

Here's the Augustine-inspired prayer I wrote that chimes into my phone regularly every day.. Feel free to replace the pronouns with your own Augustine.

“Dear Jesus,

Please chase after him. Bring him close to you. Breathe your spirit into him. Grant him the grace of knowing your wisdom, knowing your truth, knowing your life-changing love. Please Lord, reach him and become his best friend. Strengthen him and show him how to turn from sin and towards all the good you will for him. I beg your mercy for him: give him health in mind and body. Let him shine in your image, Lord, and please, God, let him learn from your unconditional love. Let him see the miracle that is you. Grant him the grace and strength to hear and answer your call. Amen.

”

Planning for the week ahead: Tomorrow and Saturday, from 1:00-3:00 Katie is performing at Amercian Girl Place in Tyson’s to celebrate the introduction of Mary Ellen, the new historical girl from the 50’s. We’re pretty excited to be a part of it! The "little" boys play in Richmond on Saturday and Fredericksburg on Sunday, with a stop in Charlottesville Saturday evening to watch UVa launch the defense of its National Championship.

A Seaside Gathering of Thoughts

Outside my window:  The sun is rising over the Atlantic Ocean. It's crazy to think that I am sitting on a piece of land that is at the end of the continent and I can see so far into the vastness of the ocean in front of me*. 

Listening to: My husband making breakfast. Ever since we got to the beach house, he's been a force in the kitchen. I'd forgotten how much he likes to cook. At home, I bring him breakfast in the morning and he hustles out the door. At night, he gets home long after the cooking and cleaning have been done and re-heats dinner before going to bed. Here, he's flipping pancakes every morning and helping make seafood feasts happen. It's nice to have him in the kitchen. I could really get used to his presence.

Clothing myself in: Tshirt, running shorts, running shoes. I've been walking and talking in the morning with my stepmother. So, so good let it all go, chaff and grain together...

Talking with my children about these books: Sarah brought The Complete Tales of Beatrix Potter with her. The linked volume exactly the version I have. I bought mine in the University Bookstore in Charlottesville in 1986. I remember being so thrilled to have saved a little extra money and invested it in the first book of what I knew would be a collection of good children's literature. I've promised Sarah we'll read every story while we're here..

In my own reading: I brought Lysa Terkeurst's The Best Yes and an advance copy of Rachel Macy Stafford's Hands Free Life. Rachel sent me her book in a lovely box with some thoughtful gifts and I am eager to read it and to tell you about it. I started with Rachel's book because I love her to pieces and I believe in what she urges for us. It's been kind of slow going with the book this week, though. I came to this vacation pretty depleted. Not burnout, at least not in the sense of neglect of self-care. This was more a leveling by forces outside my control. I've long believed in the messages in these books, but it was hard to read them and hold them up to reality of the way things are in my world right now and not be cynical. That's not fair to either author. So, I set them aside for awhile until I can be more receptive to the good in them. 

I want to quiet the “Yes, buts” in my head. I want to hold my hands wide open to the gift of the message in Hands Free Life. I think Lysa’s book is less likely to give rise to “Yes, buts.” Lysa is my contemporary. She’s navigated the rocks a bit. Still, my brain is so saturated that it can't hold one more self-help secret right now.

My "Yes, but" experience is not an entirely new reading phenomenon. It’s happened several times in the last year or so. I read a good book by an inspirational and motivational author who is several years younger than I am. I nod my head as I read and I agree with her, but experience whispers into the moment. I want to pull her close, to share what I’ve learned. I want to say, “Oh, dream that dream. It’s a good, good dream. But keep your eyes wide open, friend, because you can connect deeply, hold their hands all the time, and love with all your being and still, your heart might break."

Thinking and thinking: About the curious mystery of nature versus nurture. I've always been strongly in the nurture camp. There's nothing like my own little tribe of nine to teach me otherwise. It's both, definitely. Further, every family has its weak places, even its broken places. We think with enough faith and determination, we can create an unbroken story. We can't. All our stories are broken. The thing of life is to let God shine through the cracks and mend the fissures so that they are stronger and more beautiful in the broken places.

Pondering:

Psalm 51:10

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: Usually, my Type A husband and his equally Type A wife approach vacations with a PLAN. A SCHEDULE. Not this time. This time, I literally tumbled into this house and dissolved into a mess of exhaustion, the kind of tired where your eyes twitch uncontrollably and even swallowing takes too much energy. Fortunately, my father and stepmother had arrived before us and they were here to catch me. Our days have been filled with rest and connection and fresh air. And that's it--though I do think there might be a trip to Duck Donuts thrown into that plan for today.

Creating By Hand:  I made some reusable kitchen cloths right before I left for the beach. When I get home, I'm going to sew lots of little aprons for the Montessori school. And I'm so excited about the assignment it makes me smile just writing about it. My friend Carmen, who is the school's director, recently went to a conference. While there, she was struck by what a difference fabric makes in the classroom. My phone was filling with lovely images and I'm really looking forward to working with her when I reach home. I love Carmen. I love Montessori. I love fabric. And I love what sewing does for my soul.

Learning lessons In: Letting go. Sometimes, in order to move forward, we have to let go of dreams and of vision. We have to see how our carefully crafted ideas of the way things should be might not be part of God's plan after all. We have to come up with new visions, ones that are colored and tempered by the experiences of life. The trick, I think, to doing this successfully, is to believe that the new vision really can be better than the old one, even if the old one was very dear, indeed. 

Encouraging learning in: I have not written a single plan. I have not ordered a single book. BUT my plans are in my head (and on the internet for that matter) and we have so many books that our house groans under the weight of them. It will be fine. They will learn. We'll find our academic cadence. This is not unschooling. It's not even relaxed homeschooling. It's the sure knowledge that the environment is ripe with learning potential and I will bring to it what is necessary when the time comes.

Keeping house: My house is a wreck. I know this, because I left it that way. It bums me out because no one likes to come home from vacation to a wreck. I really don't like to open the door to a mess. I'm consoling myself by telling myself that there's nothing like the catharsis of a deep cleaning to push the reset button.

Crafting in the kitchen: My stepmother, Mike, and I made an amazing seafood feast last night. And then, for lunch, I turned the leftovers into a pretty fabulous seafood pasta. Might have been my finest kitchen moment in months.

To be fit and happy: There's nothing quite like walking at the beach, is there? I mean, really, I could go for hours...

Giving thanks: For the people who have loved us so well this summer, the ones who have leaned in and held hands. You are the blessing and you brought the grace. 

Loving the moments: in the hammock. Oh, my, whoever thought of hammocks is such a genius. And I'm not the only one who has been in need of summer naps.

Living the Liturgy: I keep falling asleep with my rosary in my hands. I hope my guardian angel picks up the prayers where I leave off.

Planning for the week ahead: We'll finish up here at the beach and then go home to clean up the mess. Amen. 

*The reality is this post was written over three days. Completely disregard references to time;-).

Gathering my thoughts and the images that inspire them

Outside my window:  It's hot. Ridiculously hot. I left for a run early this morning and it was 72. By the time I got home, it was already 85. With the humidity, it felt like 90. Two hours later, it's even hotter. And more humid. I'm not complaining. Nope. There's not a single complaint in there. I'm just stating the facts. It's hot. And every day is a bad hair day. Fact.

Listening to: Quiet. It's a weird week of coming and going and heat. Did I mention heat? Kristin just left. She gathered up everyone under 15 to go to the nearby Air and Space Museum. The idea is for them to stay cool and maybe get a little educated and for me to get a week's worth of work finished in three hours. Because that's truly how we roll around here lately.

Clothing myself in: Shorts. Tank top. Running shoes. New running shoes. When I was in Charlottesville last week, I popped into the only running store I love and asked why they thought my Christmas running shoes were giving me blisters. She looked inside them, looked outside them and broke it to me that they were worn out. Then we looked back at my Fitbit and Runmeter stats. Those shoes have traveled the length of Italy on foot. Okay then, new shoes.

In my own reading: I read a wonderful book last week and I'll tell you all about it on needle and thREAD. Anne listed it on her "Beachy Novel" list. I'm sticky with Beachy Novels this summer. 

Pondering:

from Catholic All Year

Visit Kendra for her thoughts on this perfect pregnant mama psalm. It's her contribution to Kristin's Summer of Psalms project. Click here to see all the psalms so far. Each one has its own free downloadable art. 

Carefully Cultivating Rhythm: Mary Beth is away this week, at WorkCamp. Stephen and Nick will leave midweek for the regional soccer championships. Mike's gone and will return only long enough to gather the boys. I find myself really missing conversation. To have both Mary Beth and Mike gone at the same time makes me very aware of my usual patterns of casual (and thoughtful) conversing. When Kristin walks through the door in the morning, I barely say "Hello" before the onslaught of whatever new idea hasn't been given voice yet. Today, it was all about sewing projects. 

Creating By Hand:  I need some of these Sorbetto tops. Quickly. Because, you know, it's hot. 

Learning lessons In: Long distance romance;-). I mean, I already know a lot of tips about life with a traveling dad, but every season brings its new challenges. If we are so inclined, we never stop learning. 

Encouraging learning in: I'm trying to come up with a summer reading plan. My challenge is that I've never been big on incentive plans. We don't have a chore chart with rewards. I never gave anyone M&Ms or Teddy Grahams for going potty (though I did once promise a puppy as soon as Katie was potty trained and then left the poor child to six highly motivated siblings who got the job done in less than a week). I'm just not a carrot and stick kind of a mom. So... pondering this one...

Keeping house: There is no air conditioning upstairs this summer. In an effort towards frugality and solidarity with Laudato Si ;-), we're not rushing to fix it. These fans are making nighttime sleeping acceptably comfortable. One thing I've noticed, though, is that when it's hot and humid and one isn't employing central air conditioning, it is critical to wipe down and dry bathroom surfaces and to air out bedding. These are interesting lessons and I'm rather intrigued by them. Housekeeping is no doubt very different than it was just 50 years ago, isn't it?

Crafting in the kitchen: Fresh farmer's market meals. Patrick took a full class in farmer's markets and the slow food movement. For credit. He keeps dropping little whole food tidbits of information into conversations. And I keep sitting mutely, in stunned silence, wondering why in the world he thinks this is new knowledge. It's true; my children do not hear or believe half the things I say to them all their lives until some stranger tells them the same things. Click back on Thursday for some farmer's market tips and recipes. 

To be fit and happy: I'm back to long morning runs/walks. And I'm so grateful for them. I've settle into  a routine of about a half hour running, followed by 45 minutes of a brisk walk. For me, it seems like the perfect rhythm. Looks like there some science behind that. I'm also going to step on the scale once a month and only once a month. But I reserve the right to continue to obsessively try on my favorite pants until they fit again. 

Giving thanks: for cool(er) mornings and good shoes. All the pictures are from walks last week. I can't take pictures while running. I love to challenge myself to really see when I'm walking. This is my neighborhood, the places I drive by every day on my way to and from somewhere else. When I'm walking, I'm not bypassing anything; instead, I'm inhaling everything. Sometimes, I can capture that experience on the camera inside my phone.

Loving the moments: I posted the following to Facebook on Sunday, but things have a way of disappearing there and I really want to  preserve these thoughts here. So pardon the repetition if you've read them previously.

“I don’t have any pictures of my first daughter’s last recital. Not a one. But it was memorable. Let’s see... Sarah forgot half her solo, but is still super sure that she danced well. “All the parts I remembered went great, Mommy” The four girls secretly choreographed and rehearsed a quad to pay tribute to Mike’s dad. I’m told there were no dry Foss eyes in the audience. Karoline did herself in and cried with them through the last eight beats or so. Katie’s solo to Amy Grant took me back to vintage Amy and a hospital bed in 9 West 25 years ago. Who could have imagined a 7th child spinning in grace? God could, apparently. I found myself sobbing through that one. In the second show, Karoline stepped up and danced a boy’s hip hop part when he left early so that her friend Sophie wouldn’t have to dance “My Boyfriend’s Back” without boys. She decided she loved the understudy role, so when one of the big girls was injured for evening show, Kari took the stage all by herself to fill Grace’s entire solo slot, doing an improvisational dance to a song she’d never heard before. And she totally rocked it. All I could think while she made it up as she went was how grateful I am that my girls are dancing in a community where winging it and creativity and confidence are nurtured and celebrated; that leaves little room for perfectionism and unhealthy self-recrimination. It’s invaluable, really. And then there was Bee. I never promised I wouldn’t cry. And I think I cried a little pretty much every time she took the stage. And I cried when she was in the wings, whispering words of encouragement to little girls. This dance world was her world—she pulled us in. Further, she insisted on this school when the time came for her sisters to dance. Bee knew what healthy was because she’d seen unhealthy, too. She made us dancers. But ballet will always be hers. No matter what her little sisters ever do on stage, she will always be our prima ballerina. Always. Let the record show that the last time she was en pointe at recital, she danced the entire dance with a handful of safety pins in the toe of her pointe shoe. I have no idea how that happened. But somehow, those pins upended in the dance bag and in the hurry backstage to shove feet into shoes and tie ribbons in the dark, she didn’t know until she was on stage. And we would have never known had she not noticed me crying and whispered into the wings, “There are pins in my shoes.” Waterworks turned off. I spent the rest of the dance wondering where the pins were and why she dared to break my “sew everything—no pins allowed” rule and then tell me about it while she was dancing! Mary Beth led the girls in this family to the stage—insisted on it, really— and she nurtured a love that is deep and true. We are grateful, so grateful, for the gift of dance and, way more grateful, for the gift of Bee.”

You'll hear a bit more about that improv tomorrow.

Living the Liturgy: I read this post (several times, actually) nodding all the while I was reading. And all I could think was that St. Therese so perfectly captured these thoughts. Further, I think living liturgy keeps self-aggrandizement in check. When the year is framed by the life of Christ, each season brings into our awareness who and where He was when He walked the earth. When each day is punctuated by the Hours that call us back to His Word and into His presence, we are much less likely to fall into the illusion that (a) it's even a little about us or (b) that He needs social media or huge conferences or best-selling books to make Himself known. He doesn't. In every age, He is known. In our age, with wisdom and discretion, those "grand audience" things can be useful tools, but He doesn't "need" them. He doesn't "need" anything. We need. We need to tune our hearts to His voice and to remember: 

“Love is well-known and easily identified, it needs no stage and no bestseller status. God is famous in the family dinners and protest marches, in the re-reading of a favourite book to small children and in Wednesday night Bible studies open to the public, in the prayers of the unknown and the faith of the uncelebrated.

I wonder if fame is more a construct of our celebrity-obsession, but God isn’t the new celebrity to brand and make palatable for the masses – there is too much complexity and wildness for God; God won’t obey the spreadsheets.

It’s resurrection, resurrection, resurrection. Bringing the dead things to life, life into dry bones, beauty from ashes, sorrow to joy, day after day, choice after choice, step after step towards glory.
”

--From Famous

Planning for the week ahead: The week will be spent packing and unpacking children as they set forth on grand adventures. It will be spent welcoming home  weary husband and sending him off again. it will be spent snuggling extra long with a certain six-year-old who loves rhythm in her life and is more than a little rattled when people keep coming and going.