Domestic 'Miracles' We All Need

"Stuff happens"(which is my euphemism for what really happens) at home especially when said home contains children within it's walls.

Due to its dense population of parents, Heaven sympathizes with the interminability of the run-of-the-mill chaos that comes with raising children, and Heaven answers with exactly the kind of miracle your family needs in the given moment.

I'm not referring to cleaning-related miracles.  I'm thinking of the practical 'miracles' the 'other side' catapults into domestic life just to help you survive that day without completely tearing your hear out or collapsing in a heap of frustration.

Some may argue that these aren't 'miracles,' per se.  But, whatever, you know when something shouldn't go right but miraculously does.  Such in the case of the following domestic 'miracles' (really!) that I'm convinced we all need:

Miracle 1: The infinity-of-space miracle.
Heavenly miracle synonymous with "space bag,"?  How can that be, you may be wondering?  Wonder no more, dear reader...it just is.

Freezers, purses, under the stroller baskets: this is the miracle that happens when your items grossly exceed the capacity of your "stuff holder" and yet somehow something else (read: your water bottle, purse, the kids' sand bucket/shovel combo, and hey, even the soccer ball!) fits.

Beach bag about to rip at the seams (can you tell I'm from California?)?  No way, says Heaven!  That trip to the sea is necessary to avoid those counseling session you will need from being cooped up all day and falling victim to another case of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

That's not for you, dear child rearing, child of God!  Heaven to the rescue! Bing!  Now it all goes in, more or less precariously.  Blessed Mother knew ahead of time that you would need that extra hand to push your stroller, and eat that ice cream cone.  She understands...

This miracle also applies to cabinets, pantries and refrigerators.  Freezer door not closing?  Meh, just squish the max pack of fish sticks in between the fries and whatever that packet of meat was when you first bought it (now, oddly enough, it squishes).  Don't worry! God provides! It'll 'fit.'  And anyway, God also invented duct tape to help you out.

Miracle 2: The"reappearing in the place where you should have left it" miracle.
Your keys, wallet, or that universally annoying remote you keep misplacing; isn't it nice to know that St. Anthony 'has your back?'  I can't tell you how many times something has 'appeared' out of the blue either where it is supposed to be or just randomly, even in places that I've already searched and previously came up empty handed.  Without this one I would either die or be stranded somewhere...and then die.

Miracle 3: The"lasting longer than it should" miracle.
Your bottle of hair conditioner (toothpaste, cosmetics or anything else that makes you feel normal), the gas tank, or that hot dog condiment that starts to seem bottomless, I'm convinced the hand of God is been.  Why not?  Look at the gas prices...and look how many hot dogs your kids eat! God knows what you need!  He knows when his people are being economically squeezed unjustly.  And anyway, God is all about 'solar,' ...and probably hot dogs too.  Probably.

Miracle 4: The "unexpected snack/dinner-in-a-pinch" miracle.

You're in public.  The kids are screaming "snackyyyyyy!" at the top of their voices in a way directs everyone's gaze to your direction.  As you dig frantically in the bag for snacks, you imagine that all parents within earshot are assuming your kids must subsist on a cruel diet of banana skins and the salt that falls from saltine cracker.     You wonder to yourself , 'Why didn’t I pack the fruit snacks?! " when, Bing! a bag of fishy crackers suddenly manifests itself.  Thank you, Heaven!

Look, this definitely qualifies as a miracle, especially when you don't know how those fish got there, nor do you even remember shopping for them.   But, hey, they're there, they smell fresh-ish and the kids can nom nom their way into a contented cracker coma.  Yay! Now, you are beaming with the confidence that everyone is thinking you're parent of the year! Because it's all about image, when you're a parent.

This miracle also applies to when a 'dinner' (read: a can of Spaghettios) appears in your pantry or when that duct tape on the freezer door finally gives and 'dinner' falls out (even if it is frozen pierogies).

Hey, I can take a hint.  Frozen food falling out of the freezers may the closest we get to manna from Heaven these days.  No complaints here...and I'd probably prefer perogies to manna anyway.

Now it's your turn.  Can you think of anymore domestic miracles we all need?

Homeschooling: What I Wish I Had Known

During my time both attending and teaching at Catholic schools, I was always a bit skeptical about homeschooling.  For my credential I had jumped through countless hoops and taken a zillion tests for the sake of proving that I was a competent instructor. It was therefore odd to think that a community existed out there, and literally 'out there' from my perspective, who had to audacity to teach their children without any of my same rigorous training.

At least, that’s how I remember thinking about it.  And I wasn’t alone.  My instructors, colleagues and peers all felt the same way; how could any of our coursework (which was expensive) and 'necessary' training ever be dispensed with? Without it, how could anyone even hope to know how to structure a lesson? Didn’t every subject need a daily objective, anticipatory sets and state standards? Shouldn’t instruction always be differentiated and take English language learners into account?  Shouldn’t a chart of Bloom’s taxonomy be hanging somewhere to make students be truly successful?

What made things really weird for me was the realization that those kids, the ones who learned from their parents, actually thrive when learning at home. Thrive, as in, learn stuff, the same stuff I taught my students. In fact, homeschoolers do better than the national average on standardized tests, and attend college at the same rate as their schooled counterparts. My personal interaction with home educated kids can confirm at least the spirit of these statistics; many have an intimidating base of knowledge to rival any mainstream student.  It’s been a bit sobering, actually, to realize that your friend’s nine year old, who is just starting to swim, also reads Tolkein over breakfast.   Or that someone else’s daughters, barely able to write their letters, can read and perfectly sing a piece of music Acapella.  In other words, homeschooled kids not only fair well academically, but, instead of being recluses, are exposed to things that I only wished I could have taught my students in the fifty-minute slots I was given to make their edu-ma-cation happen.

In a way it’s no surprise.  In Teacher Training Land, you’re taught that the best way to make your students learn anything is to teach them one-on-one. The irony is that this type of interaction with students is almost impossible in the actual classroom (which is why the tutoring industry remains permanently robust).  This means that the best way to educate kids is a method that logistically, a teacher can’t offer them in the classroom. To do that you’d have to do something crazy… like homeschool, for instance.

I completely acknowledge that many children do well in school.  I was one such child. Unfortunately, there is still a widespread misconception that homeschooling is too elementary (in the Sherlock Holmes sense) and cripples children socially.  What these well-meaning folks don't realize is that, these days, homeschooling is in its 6.0 version with families that have networked and built a system based on the talents, ideas and contributions of all involved.  When I taught, I can’t tell you how many times we solicited (read: begged) for parent involvement. Everything we did was always geared toward ‘building community.’  With homeschooling, the families are the community, and everything they 'have' they put in or created themselves.  There's a deep sense of ownership amongst these families that I have not witnessed anywhere else, where parents are dedicated to making their kids' and their own experience as meaningful as possible.  They don’t just pay tuition and expect to get their money’s worth (or pay taxes and expect a ‘service’) as is frequently and sadly the case in a school.

When I taught, I witnessed many a very good, involved parent, who truly wanted to make their children's school experience as bright and memorable as possible.  I wish I had known then what I know now about homeschooling, because part of me wonders if those valiant parents would have seen their efforts flourish even more in a different setting. Much classroom pedagogy, at its heart, is common sense.  It’s as easy as, “What shall we learn today?” but also as challenging as “What shall we learn today?”  Of course, there are terrific homeschooling curricula out there too.

Let's not forget faith.  Fostering faith in children, even from the view point of a Catholic School, is still considered the domain of their parents, as it should be.  From my experience, Catholic parents who possess a strong conviction for homeschooling, also tend to hold strong convictions for their Faith.  It is frequently the case that these parents achieve an enviable degree of success in passing on their values to their kids, perhaps because they did so uninhibited by the obstacles that arise in school (such as peer pressure and an agenda-driven curriculum).  Which isn't to say that a child is guaranteed to stay Catholic if home schooled and many schooled children do stay close to their faith.

For me, homeschooling has come as a pleasant surprise by not being as I first expected it to be.  It does require a paradigm shift that many people are not used to or even comfortable with, but I suspect that that is because we all grow up in a country with an education system which promises to do something many parents don't feel capable of themselves.  For the record, no homeschooling parent feels particularly 'capable.'  But the truth is, no matter what, all parents alike are always the primary educators of their kids, whether they send them to school or not.  Homeschooling offers families the chance to experience learning in a primordial way and gives an unrivaled witness to the sacred continuity that can, and always has existed between a family's domestic life, learning, and Faith.

Patrons of (Insert Household Catastrophe Here)

Who says saints shouldn't be appealed to for everyday household concerns?  After all, the Church has a patron saint for almost everything: bee-keeping, charcoal burning (Fourth of July patronage?) even eczema.

But, alas, some ‘gaps’ exist in its list of causes; holes, if you will, like those found in tattered curtains that have shredded from prolonged sunlight exposure, or the termite munched consistency of a fence or window pane, the universally telling sign of a nice, expensive-to-fix infestation.

What I’m trying to say is: wouldn’t it be nice if there were saints synonymous with Fr. Fix-It, or Mary the Merry-Maid to whom we might appeal for an occasional domestic life miracle, where, “Bing!”  termite ridden wood and hole-y (holy?) household draperies became miraculously mended?  Or a novena to a saint for the deep-clean to take care of itself?

Hey, it could happen! God does throw us the occasional worldly reward bone, (Remember, “Holy Mary, full of grace, help me find a parking space?” If you've tried it, you know that one works!)

And since our community does extend into Eternity, and, if enough of us made a fuss, some sympathetic saints ‘up there’ might just knock on the Big Guy’s door and say, “Um, Father, Earth has another weird request,” I say we lobby for some advocates who directly intervene in household doings.

And while we're at it, why don't we hypothesize over who may be a prime candidate for patronage of select common domestic catastrophes?  You know, start discussing how a saint (or future saint) might have lived to become associated with an at-home 'cause.'

Is that too brazen?  Oh well, here goes:

Hypothetical saint #1: St. Stain-Master patron of carpet stains (you need a miracle to get rid of ‘em, after all)

How this saint might have lived:

Obviously, during their life this saint would have tried their best to avoid the stain of sin (Original, I know.  Sin, that is - ha!)  But let’s get creative.   What if this self-abnegating saint slept on a rug or carpet, which came to exude the scent of roses over time?  Or this saint could be someone with the stigmata who miraculously never left, er, “evidence” of where they stood or sat (sorry, was that a bit irreverent? I’m sorry, God.)   You get the picture, no stains anywhere, bodily or otherwise.  

#2: St. Dust the Devil-Slayer patron of deliverance from dust and lint

Spiritual combat at its most physically minute level, I say.  Perhaps a humble cloistered nun who was tasked with doing the dusting and lint-rolling her sisters’ habits which she accomplished with a smile despite her allergies? Or perhaps this role is already slotted for James Dyson, inventor of Dyson vacuum?  Either way, when this saint is invoked, dust and lint don’t stand a chance.

#3: Sta. Perpetua de Pergamentum (Latin for trash), patron of the 'perpetually needing to be emptied' trash receptacles

Okay, before writing this post I did not know that pergamentum was Latin for trash, rubbish or filth.  I guess this makes sense since our world “purge” comes from the Latin pergare.  It also casts a whole new light on Purgatory, for me.  Speaking of Purgatory…what does the life of a holy person designated as the patron of taking out the trash look like?  I say a dad.  Maybe a married couple, just in case the dad needs reminding.   Yeah, that’s all I got and that’s holy enough, as far as I’m concerned! (Or is it purgatory? Hmm….)

#4: St. Creepy Crawly, patron of spider webs in room corners

I’m picturing a Franciscan Friar for this one.  What other brand of religious could unpretentiously address the creepy crawlies that inconsiderately weave little hammocks in the corners of the room?  Of course, my entreaty to the humble friar would be along the lines of "Smash the little buggers to pieces!" In other words, the complete opposite of Francisanism.

Alright, I’ve reached the end of my ability to be humorous (if I even arrived at that at all) and I just reminded myself to remind the husband to empty the trash. 

Now it’s your turn to tell me your ideas for a patron of a household catastrophe.  What chores or states-of-disrepair in the home do you need a saint for? St. Martha, patron of servants and cooks, and of this blog, pray for us!

100 Steps to Making Pancakes

Sunday is pancake day. This is how we make pancakes in my house. If you know of any way to cut corners on the one hundred steps until pancakes are served at my table please let me know – I’ve tried everything and have resigned myself to this rather breadthy approach (no pun intended…ha):

Step 1: Rouse three year old daughter with a cheerful, “Honey, want some pancakes?” to which she will groggily assent.

Step 2: Head to kitchen where one-year-old son is already removing pans from the cabinet

3: Return pans to cabinet

4: Find die-cast metal car to distract son

5: Return to kitchen. Find appropriate pan. Place on stove

6: Say good morning to still sleepy daughter who walks into kitchen and asks, “Are you making pancakes?”

7: Reassure daughter of the approach of pancake purgatory, I mean, heaven

8: Realize her overnight diaper needs changing

(Steps 9- 20 are all concern potty business)

21: Return to kitchen, grease pan, turn on burner (low heat)

22: Start looking for mix and measuring cups

23: Notice that son has gotten stuck in dining room chair

24: Stop walking over to chair because he’s sorted it out

(Steps 25-31 involve doing this at least three more times)

32: Ask daughter to play with son

33: Whisk ¾ c of water together with 1 c of pancake mix

34: Respond to sudden eruption of crying in the living room

(35- 40 are the steps for resolving die-cast metal car conflict between siblings)

41: Find coloring book and crayons for daughter

42: Return to now heated pan and pour batter (ideal diameter: 4- 6”)

43: Notice that son is back to removing pans and wire racks from the cabinet

44: Return pans and wire racks

45: Admonish son

46: Try to block cabinet with left leg while flipping pancake with right hand

47: Vex son who only becomes more determined and tries to remove your knee with his fingers

48: Admonish son again

49: Flip pancake again

50: Admonish daughter who is telling off son

51: Wipe brow in frustration

52: Physically put son in living room

53: Place chairs to block his approach to the cabinets

54: Find princess plate for daughter and place pancake over Cinderella.

(Steps 55-60: pancake protocol – butter, syrup, slicing etc)

60: Squeeze past chairs, begin cooking second pancake

61: Become distracted by son who has now climbed on chairs and is dangerously pushing them forwards.

(62-75: Steps for preparing breakfast bottle and setting son up at the table to ‘eat’)

76: Realize you forgot to re-grease the pan

77: Say “Okay!” to daughter who is asking for milk

78: Try in vain to flip scorched pancake

79: Say “Okay,” again to daughter’s second request for milk

80: Ask daughter to be patient

81: Scrape half cooked pancake rind into the trash. Clean pan in sink

82: Return pan to burner, repeat steps 21 and 42.

83: Serve daughter milk

84: Cook pancake #3.

(85 – 90: Pancake protocol again)

91: Sit at table.

92: Put son on lap.

93: Instruct daughter who is now asking for water to “Please wait.”

94: Feel guilty

95: Retrieve water

96: Notice daughter also needs a wipe

(97-98 Wipe retrieval steps)

99: Place son on lap and try to feed him pancake

100: When he refuses three times, put him down, watch him and his sister play in the next room while enjoying your still raw-at-the-edges pancake.

Bonus Step: Wonder why you still haven’t bought that electric griddle for pancakes, then file it with the three thousand other things on the ‘to do in the next two years or so’ list.

The End – until next Sunday, when we will be having French toast.

My Daily Life in Stick Figures on Paper

I never thought that the scope of my domestic life could be depicted in stick figures on a single sheet of paper but this morning my husband and daughter proved that, indeed, it could be so! Over breakfast they both worked to put our family activities during any given week on one side of a piece of printer paper. I have to say, I was rather impressed listening to the ease with which my daughter recounted our day-by-day doings to my husband who then rendered them into a stick-figure schemata. I recommend this activity to anyone with kids: see if they can summarize their time with you onto a single piece of paper. Rather than be dismayed at your parental predictability (as I was tempted to be at first), congratulate yourself for creating a sense of security in your child's life, one full of activities that they can count on!

Here's the breakdown (as far as I can tell):
The days of the week are labeled Sunday to Beach-day (Saturday). There are four "layers" to our day, though the second and third overlap.The little church on Sunday is mass, and the little one at the bottom is daily mass which we try to attend 2-3 times during the week if we can.




Layer 1:Daddy goes to work and then on "Beach day" someone is drowning in the water (hopefully the two aren't somehow related, as he is a teacher).
Layers 2+3: Mommy and the kiddies go to the "Y" and/or the "Ant Park" or just parks galore; somewhere thereabouts is nap time where my son is shown in "jail" (his crib) while my daughter sleeps in bed.
Layer 4: As I mentioned, the little church at the bottom with the "Wahhhhh!" speech bubble scribbled out (we have to sit in the crying room), symbolizes daily mass. Thankfully, the "Amen" bubble still remains; we wouldn't want to forget what we say when we are there.

I noticed that chores weren't mentioned (hmm) but I decided not to say anything. Of course there's more, but this picture gives a pretty good gist of our toddler-run household and so far, it seems, they run it well!