Blog Jump Start Week 2: What Is My Favorite Christmas Memory?

Merry Christmas!

Linking up with Donna again and her challenge to "jump start" my blog by answering the following question: What is my favorite Christmas memory?

I have a few favorite memories of Christmastime. My grandmother's orange rolls that she always baked for Christmas eve. Oh, how I miss those. Or my mother baking cookies by the dozens while my sister and I covered shoe boxes with wrapping paper to put them in. We'd take the shoe boxes of cookies to elderly shut-ins whom my mother visited each week as part of her volunteer work with Meals on Wheels. Those are two of my favorite childhood memories.

As an adult, Christmas was different. I loved the year that I put my first Christmas tree up in my first home, still single and living alone at the time. I felt so independent and grown up that year!  Waking up to Christmas morning in a quiet home all alone was much different than my Christmases are today, and I kinda miss that, but not too much.

One of my favorite Christmas memories was the year that a young man whom I'd met four months earlier came to visit me in my quiet little home. We'd struck up a relationship over those previous four months, writing emails at first, then phone calls every weekend. By the time December arrived, I was counting down the days until he'd be visiting.  I'd spent hours thinking about the perfect gift for him; I wanted to give him something from the heart, and so, I drew him a picture of an Australian lyrebird, which we'd seen on our first birdwatching trip together, along with a photo I'd taken of the first sunset we'd watched together. Christmas Day came and went but my gift didn't arrive until December 28th, when I picked him up on a snowy afternoon at the airport. One year later, we were celebrating Christmas again, only this time, as husband and wife, but that first Christmas with him will probably always be my favorite Christmas.

As a married couple, we couldn't wait to share Christmas with our children someday.  But when the children never came, Christmas again remained a quiet time in our little home, and the absence of a child to share it with was palpable. Instead, we opened our gifts with our little dog, Sage, who'd become our surrogate child.  Oh, how Sage loved opening gifts!  She would sniff around the tree and find the package that smelled like "snakkies", knowing that inside the wrapping were special bacon-flavored doggie treats just for her. Once said package was located, she would rip it apart with wild enthusiasm, tail wagging violently, wrapping paper shredded into hundreds of little pieces. It was so fun to watch and my husband and I would forget for a moment what we were mourning, and instead, laugh with joy over the happiness we'd found in this little stray pup that wanted nothing more than to be with us and to have a belly full of snakkies.

Having lived through nearly half a century now, I've seen a lot of Christmases, and Lord-willing, will see many more. Most I don't remember.  Others, however, are etched into my memory in fine detail. There was the Christmas when I went to the doctor on December 28th and saw my little John on the ultrasound, kicking and moving. He is seven now and that moment when I first saw him will always be my greatest Christmas gift and I praised the Holy Innocents for interceding for us.  But there is also the December 28th two years later when I returned to that same doctor, pregnant again, but this time with a much sadder prognosis.  I prayed to the Holy Innocents to intercede for us again, and God replied by giving us another saint in heaven.

And then there was last year, again on December 28th, when Sage ran away during a freak thunderstorm. For the next three days, we combed the woods, walked up and down the hills, and stopped at surrounding homes, looking for her.  She was old and feeble and I feared the worst. I prayed fervently to the Holy Innocents to watch over her and bring her back to us. "Please don't let it end this way," I'd prayed.  After 15 years of having her as our "first kid", my husband and I couldn't bear the thought of not knowing what had happened to her. And then, in a miraculous turn of events, Sage showed up at a friend's house, miles from our home. How she found that particular house was beyond explanation. Again, through the intercession of the Holy Innocents, God had given us the perfect Christmas gift with the return of our beloved pet.

So, for now, those are my most vivid Christmas memories.  Some are good, some not so good. There have been Christmases filled with joy and love and magic and huge blessings, and there have been Christmases filled with loss, pain and tears. But mostly, there have been Christmases that I can't remember. And perhaps really, those are the best ones. The ones that reflect the ordinariness of life, when nothing remarkable happened, other than remembering that on another ordinary, unremarkable day in Bethlehem, God chose to join us and is with us yet.

All you Holy Innocents, pray for us!

~Feast of the Holy Innocents~

December 28th

~Sage~
October 2001 - June 2017
R.I.P.

Blog Jump Start: Week 1 "Why I Write"

I'm being encouraged by Donna over at "What If God Says No?" and her idea to do a blog link up starting this week.  It's a wonderful idea for those of us like myself who have dropped the blog ball this past year (or two!) but still have plenty of good intentions. So, here goes my first attempt at jump starting this blog again.  Thank you, Donna, for this kick in the pants!

So, why do I write?

I started blogging for a pretty simple reason. I was looking for belonging. After 9 years of infertility and 20 years in a career, I had suddenly become a mother to two babies within six months. When I started blogging, I was almost one year into my new role as a stay-at-home mother, and although I had a wonderfully supportive husband and two constant tiny companions, I felt lonely.  I guess you could say I was going through an identity crisis of sorts. All my friendships had been centered around my former career, and I knew no other stay-at-home mothers. And truthfully, I didn't want to bond with other mothers at the time because my infertility had left me pretty scarred by women who seemed to take motherhood for granted.

It was actually during the infertility period that I had discovered blogs, and as some of those infertility bloggers became mothers, I gradually started to believe that maybe this was a community that I could be a part of. So, one day, I just started writing. And as I wrote more and more, I realized that I really enjoyed it. I also realized that through the writing, I was processing a lot of my emotions and experiences. This blog became my space to share my attempt at making sense of the life happening around me, and to me. I might add, also, that I felt a strong need to share my experiences and thoughts within a Catholic context. I had always kept my faith and my infertility journey very close to my chest, so writing about it gave me the chance to test the waters, so to speak.  Now, because of how I've grown due to blogging, I feel much more comfortable sharing my personal story with others who may need a little encouragement or just a shoulder to cry on.

This, I think, is why I still write. Although a lot has changed since my first blog post 3 years ago, a lot also has not changed.  The desire for community is still there. The desire to share my stories with others who may feel alone like I did (and sometimes still do) when I started blogging is also still there. My desire to connect with others who share my Catholic faith and how I try to live it in my family is stronger than ever. And then, there is just the plain old fact that I like to write. I like to tell stories. I come from a family of writers.  My father and grandfather are authors. I grew up in a home full of storytelling. It's in my blood.  Sometimes, I just want to create a story and this is where I like to do it.  And if I can figure out how to do it without burning supper, I'll keep doing it, because everyone has a story and it is our stories that say the most.

7 Quick Takes - End of Summer

I can't believe I haven't written a QT in well over a year.  Yikes!  I'm really glad, however, that Kelly over at her blog still hosts them and so, for old time's sake, I'm linking up with her today.  Thanks, Kelly!

--1--

So, considering this blog left off with this little guy's adoption/birth story, I feel it only appropriate to dedicate this first QT to his birthday.  The end of summer brought the end of our first year with him, and what a year it was.  It absolutely flew by and I am missing those baby days oh so much. At 14 months now, he is rapidly turning into a toddler and is walking, trying to run, trying to talk, and into everything. He will have no trouble keeping up with his big brothers soon. I am so blessed to have this little one in my life. He has been a super easy baby (a big answer to prayers) and is full of laughter and curiosity. He brings us so much joy everyday and was truly worth all the pain and waiting that it took to get him here.  Knowing he is likely our last baby makes him extra special, and I will have a very hard time not spoiling him!

--2--

Getting on now to more mundane things.  As winter approaches, life in the woods means being inundated with furry little critters trying to find warmth and shelter in which to ride out the next few months. Deer mice have decided to invade our warm abode and stash their treasures of acorns and sunflower seeds in the nooks and crannies of our home, leaving of course, their calling cards to mark their trail.  After trying every mouse trap available, and being outsmarted by mice that lick the bait off the trap but never trip the triggers, we decided to design a better mouse trap.  We were particularly challenged by a mouse that spent each night partying on our kitchen table, and dining on the crumbs left in Dominic's high chair, and I was losing patience as I spent every morning disinfecting our table and high chair. After trying multiple traps, we came up with this design, inspired by the time that we inadvertently found dead mice in our garage inside the bottom of a bucket.  My engineering husband placed a 5 gallon bucket on a kitchen chair next to the table, then put a paint stirring stick on top, with some sunflower seeds to serve as bait. The first night we tried it, it worked! The next night, it caught another mouse. So, now when we have to pull out the "big guns" to outsmart a tricky mouse that isn't lured in by the standard snap traps, we use this design.  Now, we just need to figure out how to outsmart the coons trying to get our chickens!

--3--

Summer brought the usual gardening chores and our garden did very well this year, thanks to the deer-proof fence that we and my father helped build last winter.  This year, I tackled growing mushrooms for the first time.  It was really pretty easy but after months and months of watching my "mushroom logs" do nothing, I was about to give up.  Then, one day last September, after three days of steady rain (thank you, Hurricane Irma), I walked out and saw this!  Oyster mushrooms!  Since then, my mushroom log has produced another batch and my shiitake mushroom log is also showing signs of fruiting for the first time.  I'm definitely hooked now on growing my own mushrooms and it's fun not knowing exactly when they'll pop out!

--4--

Although summer gardening is over, our fall garden is still going strong. Fall gardening is my favorite kind of gardening, partly because greens and broccoli are my favorite veggies (and who doesn't love a salad picked fresh from the garden), and partly because I don't have to fight the bugs, heat, and weeds.  I'm lucky enough to live in an area where we can harvest fall garden produce usually until Christmas and sometimes, even winter-over a few things like our kale. I know some people prefer to grow tomatoes and peppers but give me kale and spinach any day!

--5--

The autumn colors here were much later than usual, to the point where we didn't reach peak color until the last week of October, which is about 2 weeks later than usual. But, my oh my, they were well worth waiting for.  I believe that this year's fall color show was one of the best ones yet.  It was certainly the best one I could remember. The red maples, hickory, sweet gums, beech, sassafras, black gum, sumac and sourwoods all put on a spectacular show.  We went on a few hikes to immerse ourselves in all the beauty, knowing that in a week or so, it would all be gone.  Now, as I write this post, the leaves have mostly all fallen, and we have entered into the gray, damp, chilly days of Appalachian winter, and hikes into the forest are not nearly as enticing as sitting next to the warmth of the wood stove.

--6--

We said goodbye to October with the usual Halloween festivities. We skipped the trick-or-treating, however, and instead, enjoyed a quiet evening of dessert, some candy, and "The Great Pumpkin".  The next day, the boys wore their saint costumes to Mass and we celebrated the feast day with "Saint Bingo" and more dessert.  John really enjoyed making his St. George costume with me this year, and I love learning and teaching them about the saints this way.  Joah was St. Francis of Assisi, and Dominic was his namesake, St. Dominic. Getting a photo of my little St. Dominic proved to be the challenge of the evening, however, and this one is the best I could do!  He would not stand still, not even for a second, nor keep his shoes on, stop pulling off his rosary, etc.  By the time mass was over, all three of my little saints had become "holy terrors". In my experience, evening masses and small children do not go well together, and by the time the night was over, we'd all been through a bit of mortification!

--7--

We've also been trying to remember to pray for the Poor Souls during this month and took a special trip to see the grave of a dear friend on All Souls' Day.  Her death was actually on All Souls' Day a couple of years ago, and I wrote about it here.  It's one of my favorite posts and sums up, for me, what God is trying to tell us each year when he sends us the the fall colors.  Even in death, there is often beauty.