Children & Chocolate and Other Paths to God

I just got an email from an older neighborhood friend who informed me that her husband suffered a "mild" heart attack last night. (mild in that there wasn't a lot of damage and they caught it early) They put some stents in, and he seems to be doing okay. It sounds incredible to me, but she said they might be sending him home as early as tomorrow.

My friend sounded tired, as she didn't get home from the hospital until 3am, but otherwise not terribly upset. (I'm sure she's still in shock and the stress will set in later.) Fortunately her daughter is home from college this semester, so she had support nearby. It always amazes me when things work out like that. God made sure she wouldn't be alone during this crisis.

After I hung up with her, I immediately went to the fridge and started pulling out ingredients. I need to make a quiche.

My friend didn't ask for help, but I know what the next few days are going to be like. She's not going to be sleeping well. She's going to be spending a lot of time at the hospital. She's going to be preparing to take care of her husband when he comes home. It's going to be stressful.

So, I will pray for her family. And then I will cook.

In the absence of any other requests (food shopping, picking up kids, stopping at Target), I need to cook for people in times of crisis. I know lots of women who feel the same way. Sometimes we just feel helpless, and it's the least we can do. But I often recall how I've felt during my own rough times when feeding myself came up low on the priority list. And lack of nourishment can only make situations feel worse.
 
When we cook for people in times of need, we are acting as God's servants.

In my Old Testament bible study yesterday we talked about the prophet Elijah. He performed miracles, and struggled to convert the Baal worshippers (which included Ahab and the infamous Jezebel) back over to God. Despite his good efforts, however, things didn't always turn out as he hoped. At one point, Elijah worked so hard for God, he physically and spiritually wore himself out, and got deeply depressed. Before God gave him any kind of pep talk, however, he took care of Elijah's basic needs. An angel told him to sleep, and another gave him food.  When Elijah felt better, then God was able to help him get on with what needed to be done.

Most people live their lives trying to do the "right" thing - whether it's diet and exercise, working hard, or being kind to others - and expect a positive outcome. Sometimes, however, what we percieve as "positive" is just not in God's plan.

It's not always within our power or our place to explain why bad things happen to people we care about. Instead, we can follow God's example with Elijah. We can help nourish each other's bodies in times of crisis - so that God can come in and help them emotionally and spiritually to do whatever needs to be done next.

I was thinking this morning of offering up something special for the dads out there. A special prayer request for fathers everywhere.

I am blessed to be able to stay home with my children, as are a lot of my friends. The trade-off, however, is that our husbands travel several times a month, they get stressed out by work, and come often come home long after the kids are in bed. They hate to complain because they know it's the lifestyle we've all chosen together, and it's the best thing for the family. Some days though, it's just not easy to be them.

While I was planning on doing a piece on St. Joseph for his March 19th feast day (he's the patron saint of Italy, so I grew up celebrating this), I may have to bring him up a little sooner as he is also the patron saint of fathers.

My best friend has suddenly turned against me. No, none of my friends have slept with my husband or anything like that (imagine the readers I would get if that were true...). It's about another girl "Caffe Verona". (the label reads "sweet, complex and perfect with chocolate" - how could you not love her?)
 
When I was pregnant last year I couldn't drink coffee. Not because of the caffeine, but just because I had wicked morning sickness that wouldn't allow coffee to stay in my stomach for more than five minutes. The day after my c-section, and every day I was in the hospital after that, however, I made my husband stop at Starbuck's on his way to see me. And so my addiction began.

As the weeks and months with a newborn wore on, I started brewing my own Starbuck's at home in an effort to save a few bucks. I was never much of a fancy drink girl, but even a regular cup of joe on a daily basis gets expensive.

I started a post yesterday about recurring dreams (that, like all of the posts I started last week, I just didn't get around to finishing), but I'll have to use that another day. Being a recurring dream I've had for 20 years, I feel fairly confident that I'll have it again.

Last night's dream, however, was an original.

In my dream I was in church with one of my college roommates, and a bunch of other people we knew. We were talking amongst ourselves, and I think I may have even been dozing off a bit. Then the priest stopped his sermon and asked me to repeat what he just said.

A mom friend forwarded me a cute story this morning, entitled "Not Just A Mom" about a woman who came up with a fancy title for herself when asked her occupation at the Motor Vehicles office. The story itself can be read here:
http://www.wow4u.com/notjustamom/index.html.

This made me think of my own recent experience. I was on the phone applying for an auto loan for our new car, and was asked the "Occupation?" question.

I paused for a minute, and answered, "Um, I'm a stay-at-home mom right now." As if the "right now" made it clear that I did participate in the workforce at some time.

And then I realized I had a rookie on the other end when she asked the follow up question. "Okay, homemaker. How long have you been in this position?"

I wasn't sure if I should be pleased that she took it as a serious occupation, but then I realized what a dumb question it was.

"I'm not sure what you're asking," I said. "How long have I been a mom? How long have I been out of the workforce? Isn't it kind of irrelevant since I'm not making any money?" I was thinking that I've "been in the position of homemaker" since my husband and I started living together, and that was twelve years ago. I somehow knew that information wouldn't be helpful here though.

She moved on to the next few questions and then we got disconnected. When I called back the next guy had to start from scratch, but thankfully, he didn't seemed as perplexed at the "homemaker" occupation.

What I found more interesting than their response to the occupation question, however, was my own response. Why do I still have a hard time admitting that I'm a stay-at-home mom? I've had four years to get used to the idea, but still find myself justifying it in conversations.

I worked in corporate marketing for almost 15 years. When I had kids I became a very part-time real estate agent, so that was my answer at cocktail parties. But when I put my license inactive a few months ago, I knew I was giving up my job title as well.

It's not that I don't love what I do, and it's not that I don't work my tail off. Any stay-at-home mom will tell you that it's the toughest (though clearly the most rewarding) job they've ever had. With all due respect to working moms, I think they've got it easier in some ways. (really, I don't mean to start a debate about this, just trying to make a point) We know we're lucky. Not everyone has a choice to stay home with their kids, and we're truly blessed and wouldn't have it any other way. But unless you have a mother's helper around five days a week, it's still really hard work.

When my husband comes home and complains about a tough day, I listen sympathetically. I've been there, I know the office grind, and I know the pressure he feels being the sole provider right now. But when he looks at me, sometimes unshowered, baby food on my shirt, bags under my eyes, and asks "tough day too?", all I can say is "well, at least you got to pee by yourself."

Among friends my age, the job status is no big deal. They get it, and most of them are home with their kids now too. The conflict can arise with complete strangers, or people younger than me that I meet at social events. Why, in this day and age, do people still look at you like your nuts when you tell them you're staying home to raise your kids? I don't know where it comes from, but I always get the feeling they think I'm either uneducated, unmotivated, or some kind of rich person. (for the record, I'm none of those things)

Most of us grew up with our moms at home, and it wasn't until the 80's that it fell out of fashion for a while. I think it only took a decade for society to figure out that it was okay not to be a "supermom" and do it all. Thankfully, the trend is back to take a few years off while your kids are small.

The more important question is, why do I care what these people think? Call it ego, call it self-consciousness, call it whatever you want. I know I have to just get over it.

It's a choice that my husband and I made, and I have never doubted it for a second. I'm proud of the work I do, and I know that if I belittle it in any way when I'm speaking to others, that I'm doing myself (and all moms) a disservice. We need to wear the spit up as a badge of honor (okay, maybe that's taking it too far...), but my point is that we should never be embarassed to admit that this is the choice we made. If we take pride in our kids (and we all do), then we should be able to stand a little straighter the next time we're asked what we do "for a living", and smile.

Uno the beagle's recent win at the Westminter Dog Show has brought a lot of attention to this wonderful breed. Although the beagle has always been in the top ten list of most popular dogs, there will no doubt be more families seeking a pure bred than ever before.

I'm no expert, but I do have some experience with beagles. I've had my beagle, Fred, for seven years, and countless friends who have had them as well. Fred is red-ticked with brown, not your traditional beagle colors, but still an "acceptable" color by AKC standards. We got him from a breeder who hunts, so though he's a pure bred, he's been bred a little stockier than your "show" dog. We have his papers, but chose never to register him with the AKC. We weren't going to stud him or show him, so there was no point. When we went to the breeder's house, we got to see Fred's parents, aunts, uncles, and siblings. The breeder talked with us for a while, and chose Fred for us. It was a perfect match.

While I think beagles are incredible, fun-loving, sweet dogs, potential buyers should consider the entire personality of the breed.

On the positive side:

1) Beagles are great family dogs.

They are incredibly docile and love to play. Sadly, it's this easygoing nature that also makes them popular in lab experiments. They are generally happy dogs, and love being pet and being around people. Fred will usually just position himself a few feet from me as I move around the house during the day. And at night, well, we used to be tougher, but now he sleeps at the foot of our bed.

That being said, I've had my dog longer than my kids, and the adjustment hasn't always been easy. Babies and toddlers can unwittingly hurt dogs and should NEVER be left alone with an animal. (No matter how well you think you know your dog, they will try to protect themselves if they're afraid of the 2-year-old poking them with a lacrosse stick.) We reintroduced the crate to Fred, and it's been a great sanctuary for him when the kids get nuts.

2) Beagles are smart.

They are highly trainable, which is why they make such great hunting dogs. I don't use mine to hunt, but try to give him the oppportunity to utilize his natural instincts. In Fred's case, it's all about this red, bumpy Kong ball. He's obsessive over it, and loves it if it's thrown far in the grass and he doesn't immediately see where it lands. He'll spend a good twenty minutes sniffing every single place it touched, braying as he goes, and then let out a celebratory howl when he finds it.

Like people, all dogs have different levels of intelligence. Most of the beagles I've known, however, have been pretty bright dogs. Fred has a decent vocabulary, and listens to me better than my kids. He has been "bell trained", so if we hang a large jingle bell on a string on the door handle, he'll nudge it with his nose when he needs to go out. He can also let himself out, and in, our screen door on the porch.

3) Beagles are small, but not too small.

If you like the personality of a lab, but don't have the room, these are the dogs for you. They're small (13" or 15", and about 30 pounds) without being "wussy" or "yappy." When Fred barks, he sounds much bigger than he is. (A bonus for home protection - though their usefulness as a watchdog pretty much ends there...)

It is also because of this smaller size that they live longer - up to 18 years in some cases. They generally have very few health problems. Outside of regular check-ups and shots, and the occasional bath, the only things that require special attention are the ears. (Just need to be cleaned regularly.)

4) A beagle's energy will mirror the family's.

If you want to play all day, they'll play all day. If you want to sit on the couch and sleep, they'll happily do that too. Of course they do need some exercise or they'll get fat and bored, but really, a walk around the block wouldn't kill most people.

On the downside:

1) Beagles can howl.

My dog is pretty quiet, but I've heard plenty of stories of other beagles who barked and howled a lot. I remember reading somewhere about a woman who had a beagle who howled whenever she went out (the neighbors complained.) The vet told her that the dog was probably just lonely, so she got another beagle to keep the first company. What did she end up with? Two beagles who howled all day long.

As I said, mine never did this. The only time Fred barks is if the dog next door barks (a doggy neighborhood watch), if someone knocks on our door (which is fine since I have no doorbell), or if he sees or hears something outside. Usually this is just another dog, but sometimes it is something more sinister like an old lady walking or a kid on a tricycle. The only time Fred howls is when he's playing, and I happen to love that sound.

2) Beagles shed.

Unless you get one of those "hair, not fur" dogs (poodles and shitzus), or one of the fancy new breeds (labradoodles), any dog will shed to some degree. Beagles are no exception. The good thing about them is their size. Smaller dog = less fur to shed. A good brushing once a week helps to counter this. I've also learned to choose my carpets and clothing in "Fred colors" so that I'm not constantly fighting a losing battle.

3) Beagles are notoriously stubborn.

You'll never get a beagle to do something he just doesn't want to do. Fred can make his 34 pounds feel like a 100 if you're trying to move him into the bath tub or off the bed. Same goes for taking a walk. You're not going to take a beagle running with you because he's going to want to sniff the whole time. No amount of pulling or coaxing will change this.

As I mentioned, beagles are smart dogs. For example, Fred has NEVER come inside if I just called him. He hears me, knows what I want, and he just sits and stares at me. So we started offering him a treat if he came in, and it worked. Now whenever he gets hungry he just goes and sits in the yard, until we offer him a treat to come back in. Who is training who?

4) Beagles will roam.

Beagles are scent hounds. That means, if they get loose, and they catch a whiff of something interesting, they're gone. Oh, you'll be able to hear them because they'll be braying the whole time, but that's assuming you're around. I am able to take Fred off leash in controlled conditions and he's fine. He'll stay next to me, play catch, etc., but I wouldn't ever let him off leash in an unfamiliar environment, or anyplace there are other dogs around. 

They're natural explorers. Before we replaced our fence, Fred found some holes and took himself on a few walks and fortunately never went too far. He even "Hudinied" out of one of those harnesses when I had him tethered to a tree. (Again, too smart for his own good.)

Other things to know...

While Fred never did this, I've heard that beagles like to chew a lot. This can be remedied with extra exercise and lots of chew toys.

Beagles never get full. Really. Some dogs will leisurely snack on a bowl of food for an hour, but not these dogs. It's usually gone in 10 seconds and they'll always beg for more. My dog can hear a bag of chips opening from across the yard, even with the doors shut. This is why you see so many fat beagles.

If you want to buy a beagle...

First, call your local shelter. There are lots of beagles out there who roam, and this is where they end up. (I would recommend the micro-chip to avoid this.)

Second, contact a beagle rescue. www.beaglerescue.org is a good place to start.

Third, find a reputable breeder. We found ours listed in the local paper and drove out to meet him. In this case, you want to check out the puppy's family and the environment to be sure you're getting a healthy dog. Also, any good breeder will offer to take the puppy back if there is some reason it doesn't work out.

I know this is a longer post than usual, but hopefully it will help someone make the right choice. Thanks to Uno the Beagle for bringing beagles back in fashion!

I've said in the past how much I love winter. I've since changed my tune.

I sent an email out yesterday to my local mommy posse taking it all back. The 3-year-old has had a cough for a week, and now the baby is starting with it. (no surprise given the way the older one coughs in her face) I was supposed to pick up a new car in the afternoon, but couldn't because of the freezing rain. Even if I got it home in one piece, there's the trick of getting it up my rather steep driveway.

There was an half an inch of ice building on my back deck. Even Fred refused to go outside to pee. He looked at me like I was nuts for even suggesting it. "No thanks, I'll hold it."

So, like everyone else, we hunkered down. The TV has been on a LOT more than usual, but I'm desperate. I made brownies. I made soup. I made sloppy joes. (I really wanted chili, but didn't have all the ingredients.)

I fell asleep last night to the sound of sleet hitting my bedroom windows and Fred snoring. The baby rattled around once, setting off one of the toys that hangs on the side of the crib. The 3-year-old coughed a few times.

At some point I woke up and marvelled at how quiet it was at the moment. Too quiet. And a little chilly.

Then it hits me.

I rolled over to look at the clock and saw that the power was out. Ugh. I stretched to see out my bedroom windows and realized the people across the street had lights on outside. Yep, no matter where I live, I'm always on the side of the street that loses power.

I lay in bed, worried about whether the kids were cold, but I got up to go to the bathroom and decided it wasn't really that bad yet. (Though we may have to pack it up and head to my mom's later on, I thought.) I headed back to bed and tucked under the covers.

Then I heard a sound I haven't heard in a long time. A most unusual, glorious sound.

The chirping of a bird.

While the reality is that the bird was probably freaking out because he was frozen to his nest, I like to think it was a sign. A simple gift from God.

"Happy Valentine's Day. Spring is coming. Hang in there!  Love, God"

My heart soared at the sound. And if the power had been on I wouldn't have heard it over the hum of heat and household appliances. And I probably would've been asleep.

This was God's answer to my mild mommy misery last night. I always believe that all prayers get answered, but sometimes in more unusual ways than we expect. Sometimes God has to literally wake you up to give you a message.

So, I'd like to share my gift. Rejoice everyone! Spring will be here before you know it!

It seems like we've been surrounded by red hearts and Valentine cards since Christmas. Now that the holiday is actually a bit closer, I wanted to do a little research on this over-commercialized Catholic saint. I thought I could easily introduce this person to my kids, like one can do with Saint Patrick, or Saint Nicholas, so they understand the religious context of the holiday. Unfortunately, the background is a little vague...

From www.infoplease.com:

The history of Valentine's Day is obscure, and further clouded by various fanciful legends. The holiday's roots are in the ancient Roman festival of Lupercalia, a fertility celebration commemorated annually on February 15. Pope Gelasius I recast this pagan festival as a Christian feast day circa 496, declaring February 14 to be St. Valentine's Day.

Which St. Valentine this early pope intended to honor remains a mystery: according to the Catholic Encyclopedia, there were at least three early Christian saints by that name. One was a priest in Rome, another a bishop in Terni, and of a third St. Valentine almost nothing is known except that he met his end in Africa. Rather astonishingly, all three Valentines were said to have been martyred on Feb. 14.

Most scholars believe that the St. Valentine of the holiday was a priest who attracted the disfavor of Roman emperor Claudius II around 270. At this stage, the factual ends and the mythic begins. According to one legend, Claudius II had prohibited marriage for young men, claiming that bachelors made better soldiers. Valentine continued to secretly perform marriage ceremonies but was eventually apprehended by the Romans and put to death. Another legend has it that Valentine, imprisoned by Claudius, fell in love with the daughter of his jailer. Before he was executed, he allegedly sent her a letter signed "from your Valentine." Probably the most plausible story surrounding St. Valentine is one not focused on Eros (passionate love) but on agape (Christian love): he was martyred for refusing to renounce his religion.

In 1969, the Catholic Church revised its liturgical calendar, removing the feast days of saints whose historical origins were questionable. St. Valentine was one of the casualties.

It seems fitting to me that the saint representing a day for love is full of mystery. And exceedingly cruel that a holiday that centers around chocolate falls right in the middle of Lent.

(Though I no longer give up chocolate for Lent. My reasoning is thus: I am a better mother when I'm happy. Chocolate makes me happy. Ergo, I keep chocolate in my life.)

Anyway, back to St. Valentine's Day.

What I've decided to tell my kids about this holiday is that it's about acknowledging and celebrating the things we hold most dear in our life: our family, our friends, and our faith. And it's a day to shamelessly and loudly pronounce our love for these things, in hopes of spreading these good feelings to others. St. Valentine would expect nothing less.