On the Big Feast of the Little Flower

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October_2007_001I had so many plans for this day that I was up before dawn to begin to prepare. I was most excited about these  very small picture frames (intended to be placecard holders) I found at a bridal store. They are trimmed with tiny roses. They weren't expensive at all, so I got one for each child. I've been going through my St. Therese quote book and choosing a quote for each of my children. I wanted today to feel like a holiday.  I  planned special food and I even had  a special candle I'd saved for this day. Honestly, though, I woke up exhausted.  I couldn't find the candle. I asked Katie (whose "real" name is Kirsten Therese) what she wanted for dinner and she told me pizza and buffalo wings. Since it's her name day, she's picks. Blech.  I made sugared roses. They browned and withered. I made molded candy roses. They looked weird. I despaired a bit about the cake. How to make it a rose cake without roses? Christian suggested we use the daisy cake pan. That works. Therese once wrote, "In the world of souls, the living garden of the Lord, it pleases Him to create great Saints, who may be compared to the lilies or the rose; but He also created little ones, who must be content to be daisies or violets." I rather like daisies; they're hardy and cheerful. I found the candle. Pizza and wings made perfect sense since it's a Monday Night Football night.

I love this saint. I don't always understand her, but I love her very much. And I am devoted to her. Whenever I start to feel as if my faith is floundering or my joy is in jeopardy, I look to her. And she always, always brings me to God. I began a novena nine days ago for intentions I hold close in my heart. The dear Little Flower brought those intentions to our Lord on my behalf. I know this because I've seen God's answers to some of those requests already. And I know this because of the rose. When the child named for Therese of the Child Jesus goes out to the garden and picks a perfect
Our Lady of Guadalupe rose for me just as I was wondering about the center of the cake, I am sure I've received a message of love.

I'm off to watch until halftime and then to pray the rosary with St. Therese. Many blessings to you on this beautiful feast!

Serendipity

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Happy Birthday, Katie!

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Katie_bday_001

Last night, we went to Michael's soccer game. And after the game, families and friends of players congregated around the field fence waiting for the players to come. This is a funny scene and I'm new to it. Lots of middle-aged parents, a smattering of girlfriends, a few college guys,  and the Foss kids, including an exuberant Katie and baby Karoline. Katie is a pixie, a sprite, a sunbeam.  She is all joy. And last night, sensing perhaps the downturn of emotion after the loss, she donned her silly hair and danced in and out among the people there, drawing smiles and giggles despite the mood. It's her calling really--making people happy. She does it all the time here at home. She's not oblivious to grim moods or crankiness; she's just determined to dispel them.

Her Daddy has told her since she was born that she's the "Queen of the World." And he treats her so. He hoists her high onto his shoulders and lets her wave like a queen (much like St. Therese's father carried her). She calls him on his way home from work and asks him to bring her ice cream. If he declines, she reminds him that she's the queen of the world. He acquiesces and all is right with the universe. Spoiled? Not really. It's more like a family tradition.

She sprinkles happy dust everywhere. She's also very strong-willed. Katie's birth was traumatic. She had been breech at 37 weeks and then she flipped to vertex at 38 weeks. I thought all was well until an appointment at 39 weeks. She was breech again, with her foot in the birth canal and I was about five centimeters. Surgery was indicated immediately. After six unmedicated births, I was ill-prepared for this one. And I reeled for a very long time. Recently, Katie happened upon the books I'd used to prepare Mary Beth to be with me when Karoline was born.

Katie: I'm never going to have a baby.

Me: (surprised because she loves babies, real and imaginary) Why in the world not?

Katie: Because I saw how they come out and I'm never going to do that. Ever. Ever.

Me: (kicking myself for not being more careful with the books and wondering about future grandchildren) Katie, it's not so bad. You don't have to watch if you don't want to (o.k. so this was totally lame but I was on the spot and grasping at straws) and really, it's pretty cool when it's happening. Trust me on this one.

Katie: Nope. I"m not doing it. And you know what? If I were a baby, I would not come out that way. If I were a baby I'd tell them that I"m the queen of the world and they'd have to find another way.

Right. You would.

And that is the first time in five years I've had a good, hard laugh about Katie's birth. Happy dust. Everywhere.

I told her yesterday that it was her last day to be four and her face clouded. "I love four. Four is a very wonderful thing to be." I'd love four, too, if I were Katie. I've loved four with Katie. Her Daddy is gone today and her Mikey is, too. She's very attached to these men in her life. But I'm going to do the best I can to make the first day of five even better than four. And I'm going to stay very close to Katie. I'm looking forward to a sprinkling or two of happy dust.

(The bear says "Someone at George Mason University loves me." She carries it everywhere. And someone really does.)

Happy Birthday, Michael

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Nineteen years ago today, I became a mother. It's all I ever really wanted to be. When I was a little girl, all my play was sprinkled with babies. I fell in love early and  I knew then what it was to want to be a wife.  We were married and had a baby shortly after our first anniversary. So, there has been a baby in our lives most of our married life. And I've been married  all my adult life.

That baby, that first baby, was better than my best imaginings. He was a sweet, beautiful blue-eyed, blond-haired, bundle of utter joy. He kept me up all night. I didn't mind; I was still happy to see him first thing in the morning.Looking back, he was rather spoiled. I remember making pancakes from scratch every morning for months on end because that's the only thing he liked for breakfast (and lunch, too, for that matter). I remember putting him in the car and following the trash truck because he was fascinated by it. I remember offering moral support while my husband stayed up all night crafting a Peter Pan ship out of cake and frosting for his fifth birthday. He slept on our bedroom floor, with all his action figures arranged, just so, until he was seven. There's nothing quite like getting up in the middle of the night and stepping on Captain Hook.

I also remember that this was the child who grew to be the big brother. He was the one who was there to welcome every baby. He was the one who had piggybacks down to a science, could change a diaper in a pinch, and stayed up all night with me when I had six stitches in my hand the same night five of his siblings had a stomach bug and his dad was out of town. This was the child who first moved from child to friend.

He's a great conversationalist. He loves to write and to take pictures and it's fun to trade ideas with him for both. As he has matured, his faith has, too, and I find myself lately being inspired by his example. I don't think that we are supposed to be buddies with our children when they are little. I don't even think we're supposed to be chums with our sons when they are big. But I do think that a goal in childrearing is to raise a person with whom you can be friends. What a lovely thing it is to look at the young adult in my life and want to spend time with him! He is my friend. I love him and I respect him. I'm still his Mom and he reminds me frequently that he still needs my perspective and experience and guidance in his life. But he's a man and I am very fond of the man he is.

So, today is his birthday and in many, many ways, it's mine as well. He was nine days late. We'd always known his name was Michael and we think he waited to be heralded by the archangels on the feast. How often lately, I call upon those angels! Defend him in battle, please! Help him avoid the snares of the devil. Be with my baby in that very big world. Oh, and, enjoy the companionship of one of my best friends.

He surprised me late yesterday and asked me to come get him so he could spend a few hours at home. This mom who hates to drive gleefully added an extra hour to the Friday afternoon driving--half of which was perfect heaven because Michael sat next to me and talked about all sorts of things while he ate pistachios and feed Slurpee to Karoline. He asked for another Peter Pan cake, but we opted instead for our traditional Devil's Food Kahlua cake.  What a joy it is this morning to set the table for breakfast and put the birthday plate at Michael's place. All the places are set today (with an extra for my Dad who also surprised me late yesterday).And it was lovely to go to bed last night with all my children under my roof. It's birthday week here. Let the feasting begin!