Introducing Mr. Nutsy!

Much to my surprise and delight, Kevin surprised me with permission to start looking for a dog for Christmas. I grew up with pups ALL my life. I don't think there was a moment of my childhood that didn't include a dog. However, early marriage and young children are not super conducive to the attention a dog requires and Kevin isn't a huge dog person.

He has seen me pining. Pining for my sister's dogs, pining for my friends' dogs and desperately waiting. I made a concerted effort not to push the issue. A dog is a big commitment and I never wanted it to be a source of resentment. I had resigned myself to the fact that a dog was going to have to wait until at the very least all young things could feed and dress themselves. And then he sprung it on me...

Kevin told me that he had been looking at a dog for me, but he didn't want to make the decision without consulting me. I nearly jumped out of my skin as much as a mom can without raising the hopes and expectations of her children.

But...

We decide we wanted to welcome a rescue dog into our home and quite frankly as the process went on I began to believe that im it very well have to trade my firstborn in order to convince anyone to let us love a dog. We looked at and inquired about four dogs.

Dog 1: Despite a bio that said she was good with kids, we were denied because she was too skittish for kids. ???

Dog 2: We called, we drove 4 hours round trip to visit, we loved on him and filled out an application. I called to thank the shelter. I called to follow up on the application. I never received any further information even after being promised a call later that afternoon. I found out through a Facebook post that he had been adopted...???

Dog 3: Loved him, inquired, applied, talked with a lovely rescue worker and waited for a call from the foster mom. Got an email stating that foster mom was keeping him. After a year of fostering him, our interest sparked her desire to finally adopt him???

Dog 4: Perfect. Small, young, but not a puppy. Good breed. Good with kids and cats. Our applucation was the best fit. We set up the perfect time to visit on our way through town as she was being fostered 2 hours from our home. We got there and she hid in the corner. I picked her up to love on her and she quivered. She shook every time our kids walked up. The foster dad tells the kids to be careful because he doesn't want her to bite their faces. ??? Then he tells us that her spay incontinence is under control, but she doesn't ride well in the car - poos, pees, and pukes in the car. ???

Dog 5: We almost didn't visit him. He was bigger than we wanted. We had just set up the visit with Dog 4 and were to,d we would need to make a decision quickly because there were other applications behind us. Having already applied to meet Dog 5 who was being fostered in the same city as Dog 4 we wanted to meet them both, but we were waiting on application approval before we could be put in touch with his foster mom. I sent a Hail Mary email and prayer asking if there was any chance that during the rescues holiday shutdown that we could even meet Peanut. The night before we were to be travelling we got the call. His foster mom spent 30 minutes telling me all about him and agreed that we could meet him the next day on our way through! Kevin's response, "You still want to meet him?"

My response, "We might as well."

We met him after the fateful first meeting of Dog 4. We were disheartened and disillusioned. We pulled up the foster's home in a neighborhood that looked suspiciously Like our old neighborhood. We were welcomed with open arms in their home and their lives. Peanut was energetic and immediately took to me. He showed off his tricks and his love of television and food. We now understood why he was overweight. The family that surrendered him had fed him primarily people food - white bread and sausage sandwiches were he favorites.??? He was well trained, but had been surrendered because his family had gotten a puppy. ??? He had already lost some weight but needed to lose more.

Not five minutes in, I mouthed to Kevin, "He is it!" Our rescue had a 5 day foster period to make sure the dog is a good fit. I wanted to take him with us that day! I didn't want to leave him! However, we were on our way to my parents house for the weekend and didn't want to confuse him. We agreed to pick him up on Sunday.

Sunday was a miserable cold and snowy day. Instead of a nice visit, we picked him up in a flash, but he jumped right in and settled down. And the rest is history.

Peanut is an amazing dog. Loving, friendly, communicates well, and such a sweet companion. He is a six-year-old pointer/terrier/border collie mix. He is house-trained and despite the bitter cold and snow has not had a single accident. He is a land shark and will do anything for food. He stole cucumbers off my salad one day and then stole a bunch of bananas off the counter and proceeded to eat half of one, peel and all. It's a learning curve, but we are managing!

Already I can't imagine life without him. We are a dog family now and Mr. Nutsy makes us better than we were before. We can't wait to enjoy him outdoors as the weather improves!

And as per the theme of our family, we almost missed out on him. But God knew...

Stay awake for a lifetime of the unexpected!

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

The Scoopy Six

My oldest turned six a few months back. I'm just now getting around to publishing this! It's hard to believe we've been parents for five full years now! There is never a dull moment.

Time to start the list - one item for which I am grateful for each year of life.

1. I'm grateful for his smile. His desire to please and to share love and joy is contagious and will serve him well. He always knows when I need "Scoopy-lovin'".

2. I'm grateful for his feelings. John Ross is my emotional compass for our family. He is overall an even-keeled kid with lots of heart. However, when I see his good nature waiver, I can place a sure bet that something is out of balance in our family as a whole.

3. I'm grateful for his curiosity. Questions like, "Why do we need time?" And "Why does Jesus matter anyways?" keep me on my toes and give me opportunities to evaluate my answers.

4. I'm grateful for his boundless energy. Sigh.

5. I'm grateful for his servant's heart, which silently chides and inspires my own heart.

6. I'm grateful for his perseverance. Never did I believe that when we taught him the word that it would become such a driving force in his life. He is not easily foiled and has a rock-solid work ethic.

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

15 Months + 30 Years Equals Childhood

I always say that 15 months is when my life changes with a baby. Thomas has been no different. At the end of this month we will hit the 15 month milestone. He is walking, indicating needs, calling me mama, and feeding himself. He is as much joy and contentment as he was as a newborn. He brings so much light to our lives.

Next month marks another milestone for us as our beautiful Clara starts school. I will put two of my children on the bus each morning and spend a few blessed hours with my baby and my house. Never before have I had this blessing, challenging as it may be sometimes.

This year would have been so different if it weren't for the unexpected arrival of our Thomas. I would be working outside the home. I would be contemplating a move to full time. We would still have a nanny. The kitchen cabinets would not be refinished...

Because of the open nature of our marriage and my womb, our lives have been changed in such a miraculous way. I am now home with my children. I am now more present to their lives. Because I am now home during the day, my career as a writer and speaker has taken off in directions beyond my wildest dreams. My health has never been better in my adult life.

Today I sit in the visitor center of The Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in La Crosse, Wisconsin. I am preparing to give a retreat for the executive board of Catholic Charities, La Crosse. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this as part of my life.

But my Lord did.

As I turn 30 this year, so many things have settled in my heart and become the focus of my prayer life. 30 so far seems to be the decade of reflection and reconciliation. We've lost some dear friends this year and come closer to others. We have been called to face the mortality of our loved ones and the mortality of ourselves. The great blessing in reflecting on our limited humanness is the opportunity to remember God generosity, God's provision, and God's fortifying love.

Since losing a dear friend in June I've spent a great deal of time reflecting on those in my life who have impacted the woman I am today. Two weeks before his death I ran into him while dining at a local restaurant with my children and mother-in-law. He bought our dinner, unbeknownst to us, until the bill arrived. I thanked him, Clara gave him a drawing and we went on our way with a light quip about lunch sometime soon. About a week later, I drove past the parish where we'd worked together and saw his vehicle out front. I considered stopping to talk, but told myself I'd do it later. A week later, he had gone to our Lord. It is one of those moments I will never forget; one of those missed opportunities that will stay with me forever.

As such, I'm making it a point to feel more in my 30s. My husband regularly reminds me that I need to trust God and follow my heart, not the way society tells my heart it should be feeling. In the past 20 years I've left so many things unsaid. Raised to move around, I've left so many relationships unfinished. It is only now that I am beginning to appreciate the person God created me to be. It is only in the present moment, stable and supported, that I have truly begun to appreciate the awkward, precocious, curious, and genuine young woman of my youth. My adolescent emotions and anxiety had validity. These experiences make me authentic and I must not go forgetting them or pretending they didn't happen. I've already spent too many years running away and then trying to catch up to whom I really am. I'm tired of starting over.

I want my daughter to know authenticity. I want her to trust her heart at any age. I want my son to recognize, name, and embrace his "old soul" in a way I wish I had. I want my baby to forever live in his simple joy of risk. I want to protect them, but I want them to grow to love their own identity and their own place in this world, unmasked by my fear and trepidation.

God guides our hearts if only we take time to listen. It's easy to talk. It's hard to listen. As a child, I was a great listener. When I found myself no longer heard, my ability to listen diminished, leaving me vulnerable, confused and broken. When I married Kevin, my voice once again took on sound and I am now in a place where I need to practice the art of listening once again. I must re-learn listening so that I can grow in Faith, Hope, and Love.

Matthew 18:1-5 "At that time the disciples approached Jesus and said, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said, "Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me.""

I having been hearing God's call in this passage for the past few months. 30 marks a new childhood for me. I must embrace this time with my young children and husband as a time to not only example, but practice these childlike arts. I am being called to fill myself up with knowledge and experiences like a child. I am being called to practice once again the genuine love, innocent trust, and fearless abandonment of my childhood. It is time to laugh like Christ and the little child.

I am excited and I am grateful. I miss my dear friend, but I'm in debt to him for being an example of Christ's selfless, ever-giving love and for inspiring me to embrace the Christ child within.

"Come, sit, and tell stories of those loved."

 

 

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

Welcome to the Herd!

Family road trip! Complete with at least 3 potty stops (and iced coffee to take the edge off so many potty stops) and at least one newly coined word from Clara. This trip it was, "gooseballs".

I love the Blogsy app! Never before have I been able to type a blog post while on a road trip.

We are on our way to a weekend trip to Chicago to visit with my family and celebrate my beautiful niece Elizabeth's 2nd birthday. I can't help but reflect on how big all of our children are getting! They are growing so beautifully and becoming such wonderful little people. What a joy and immense blessing to be co-creating them with our Lord.

We often quote the movie "Ice Age" when talking about our very unique extended family. Sid the Sloth says, "We are the weirdest herd I've ever seen." And truly WE are. Not only do we have unique upbringings and values set, our family has grown in very unique ways. A family of 3 girls, we welcomed a 2-year-old brother (through adoption) at the same time we were welcoming brother-in-laws into our lives. And just when the lake cabin was the perfect size for our extended family, God surprised us with both my niece Elizabeth and our joyful son Thomas. And the story of Elizabeth's adoption is what brings me to today's post.

Elizabeth joined our family through adoption. Her story is worth telling and retelling as a powerful example of God's generosity and provision. My sister and brother-in-law found out Elizabeth just a week before she was born. Elizabeth's beautiful and generous birth mom has two other daughters and was working to get her feet back under her when she found out she was expecting Elizabeth. She knew that God was not calling her to parent this child. She did not search for an adoptive family until she was nearly nine months pregnant. She found my sister and her husband through a friend.

An uncomplicated pregnancy with good maternal choices, Elizabeth's mom had not had any prenatal care. Shortly after meeting my sister and her husband, she visited the doctor to check her dates. During the examination, the medical staff discovered a tear in the amniotic sac which was leaking amniotic fluid. Fluid levels were so low that they decided an emergency c-section was in order.

My sister was called and she rushed to find a floating replacement nurse on her pediatric critical care unit. In tears, she and her husband rushed to the hospital. They waited in the waiting room for news of their child. Elizabeth arrived healthy and they were told they needed to wait out the recovery time. Expecting a wait, my sister sent her husband home to let the dog out. Shortly after he left, a recovery nurse came up and offered to sneak my sister into recovery. As she entered the room and held her baby for the first time, the tears flowed freely. She was the first person to hold Elizabeth and 3 days later our sweet little Lizzy came home.

I visited my little baby girl the Monday after her birth. I snuggled her up close as I sat in the sunny outdoor swing at my mom's house. Never had my heart been so full. All of the sudden I understood the sheer awesome task of being an aunt. There is something so deep about that relationship.

(Insert flux of mama hormones here...and despite scientific hormonal tracking and charting to the exact opposite, said hormones miraculously led to the birth of our sweet little Thomas exactly 9 months later.)

3 weeks later marked the forfiture of parental rights.

6 months later marked the offical adoption date.

Upon her formal adoption, family and friends received a pink announcement with the scripture passage, "For this child I prayed."

And truly there could be no sweeter answer to our prayers. Happy Birthday my little Dizzy! I love you.

(Blogsy and traffic in Milwaukee is not a good combo for this motion sickness-prone mama...)

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

Stay-at-Home Sacrifice: It's NOT all Bunny Rabbits and Roses!

This is what summer is for!

I probably should have been blogging through our massive family transition, if for no reason other than to record it for myself, but alas, I didn't feel much like writing.

I announced it on Facebook, shared it with family and friends, and processed it with anyone who would listen, but I couldn't write about it.

In November, our dear nanny decided she needed to be spending more time with her kiddos. I respect that and am grateful that we had the kind of relationship that allowed her to say so. Since then she has taken time to spend days with Clara and Thomas and given this mama a break once in awhile. We are so grateful for all that she gave and gives to our family.

As a result, Kevin and I had to figure out what to do. With John Ross in school half days and the two littles still at home, finding help and a workable schedule was not easy. After some trial and error, we decided it was time for me to stay home. Working for the church didn't offer the kind of monetary value that allowed us to hire another sitter and give us any additional take home income. Why work to pay the nanny to raise our children? (There is a whole other blog post in there somewhere...an institution that takes the moral high ground on family life, but doesn't provide a living wage or family-friendly benefits like paid family leave.) In addition, here are some things we had to come to terms with in light of our decision:

Always with the tongue!

1. This was God's plan.I tried to explain this to my pastor. I wouldn't have chosen this. If it had been up to me, I would have stayed working the limited hours and limited responsibility job at my parish. I came in, worked, and went home. It was a good break for my head and a good way to appreciate my children. I didn't make much after paying my nanny, but it was worth it. I wouldn't have chosen this drastic course correction, but it was given to us. Everything leading up to this decision was God. We are very much at peace with our decision despite the monumentous adjustments it has required. We are trusting in God's providence.

My first little love.

2. We are grateful.There has been so much peace in our household. I've completed chores on a weekly basis that hadn't been fully complete since John Ross was born. I've gotten into a routine with my two littles which has been invaluable. I've been able to commit hours each week to my physical and mental health with the gift of a YMCA membership from my family. I can slow down and appreciate these fleeting moments with my children and provide more fully for my husband's needs. We are so grateful for this gift.

3. Contrary to popular belief, staying home is not all bunny rabbits and tulips.This is God's plan, we are at peace, and we are grateful, but this is hard. I have several friends who have walked the journey of working outside the home with me for the last 5 years and I so often hear, "It must just be so much easier. I'm so jealous."

Yes, there are times when it is easier. I'm not pushed out the door by a schedule and I'm not rushing home to get dinner on the table during the famous witching hour. My laundry gets done. I don't always have to shower or get dressed in the morning.

But I am always on. There is no physical or mental break. There is no change of mental pace or shift in the demographic I serve. I can't leave it at the office. At work, projects come to an end. At an office, I can close the door. On the phone, the conversation wraps up. At home, the house is never clean, the kids are never ready, there is always another meal and another load of laundry. The closets don't stay clean. There is always needs and you are considered on the job 24/7. When you're working, you get a few hours where ultimately, you're still the top executive of your household, but you've got a director below you managing for awhile.

Again, thankful, grateful, blessed, and honored to have the "luxury", as many call it, of choosing to stay home. That said, I would contest that it isn't much easier than working outside the home.(And for the record, it's hard to blog about something when the only feedback you get on your thoughts is in non-sense all toddler song, baby babble, or Star Wars speak.)

4. We must live with less.We have had to make a lot of mental and financial adjustments. The small amount of money I was bringing in was our "mad money". It allowed us to do extra things like traveling, eating out, and little shopping splurges. We've had to take a closer look at everything we buy. We've done a lot of repurposing, reselling, and rummaging.

Recently, I received a check for some freelance work that I did with a note saying "Buy yourself something nice!" While the sentiment was lovely and thoughtful, there is no extra in our life. We live paycheck to paycheck, making every effort to keep our savings account intact.

If it looks the same on the outside, that is a huge testament to the sheer amount of work we have done to maintain our life despite our financial changes. It is also testament to the generosity of others, our families and those who have generously given their time and "cast offs" to help our family thrive.

3 kids born in Green Bay, it's about time we get to family night!

I say this not because I care what my blog readers and friends think of us. We have made a commitment to a way of life that God called us to and we are at peace.

I write this because I know there are other moms and couples out there that have made similar choices and perhaps can't put them into words. How many of us have worked tirelessly to create a beautiful, peaceful and loving life, but because the grass is always greener, others believe that we're just "lucky"?

No, we are called. We are gifted. We have responded to God's invitation to co-create, sometimes not knowing the sacrifice He is going to ask of us.

And yet, we are so blessed.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Announcing...

Drum roll please...albeit 3 months late!

 

Thomas Robert Boerschinger!

Born May 24th, 2013 at 2:10p weighing 6lbs, 9oz.

My smallest baby and my easiest so far. He's sweet and snugly and Mama's little tank.

He is named after Kevin's grandfather, Thomas the courageous apostle, and two holy men in our lives: Bp. Robert Morneau and Fr. Tom Hagendorf, Opraem. He has some great saints to follow and be inspired by and we can't wait to see him grow.

He sister and brother adore him. John Ross is the best and most hands on big brother and Thomas loves to hear him sing. Clara loves to give him nicknames and play with his feet.

Mama is doing well, albeit tired. Easiest recovery so far!

 

And if that wasn't enough, my brother-in-law brewed me a celebratory batch of beer with dedication label and all! Only in our family, but who could possibly feel more special and blessed than to have such a labor of love dedicated to them? Thanks to Andrew and Alida, 2/3 of Thomas' Godparents!

The beer label reads:

If you like tasting marshmallows or just enjoy a charred juicy steak, then campfire stout it your cup of tea – or should I say, your cup of beer.

This beer is dedicated to the newest member of the Boerschinger family, because when a pregnant, future mother of three asks for a batch of beer, you comply!

Congratulations to Amber and Kevin!

The Women Raising My Children

 

I intended to write this post months ago, but how does one tackle a topic so close to one's heart in a blog post? Here I will try.

I’ll admit it. I’ve watched “Sister Wives” on TLC. You know, the one about the 4 wives and 1 husband and their very blended family? Now, before you judge, I’m not proud of my choice. After the first season – there isn’t much on TV for 2am feedings and Netflix is SO convenient – I stopped watching because the whole concept of polygamy and their lifestyle left me feeling uneasy.

That being said, there was definitely a draw to the concept of parenting my children with other women. There is nothing like the perspective and extra hands of other mothers. It made me step back and reflect on my own mothering experience. I realized that in many ways, I share the job of parenting with many other wonderful and blessed women. I share them with you here.

My Mom, Sheila – As I’ve shared in the past, my mother is a foster mom and my brother was adopted into our family. As such, my mother’s “parenting” years have been extended. From my mother my children learn that family doesn’t begin and end, it is constant. From her they learn unconditional love and acceptance as we share the lives of so many unique children. They also learn in a special way the difference between a mother’s love and a grandmother’s love. Only a grandmother would spend time running around collecting items my 4-year-old insists “mom is out of.”

My Mother-in-law, Pat – My mother-in-law is legally blind and has been most of her life. You wouldn’t know it to meet her, however, as she has learned to thrive in her disability. My children have learned perseverance, attentiveness and acceptance. They see in her a wicked independence. They don’t know Grandma any different than she is and they love her all the same. John Ross has learned to sense her needs and respond to them. It brought my heart great joy to see him lead her into church with her cane the other day, carefully maneuvering her through the doorways and around the pews. And just like any other grandma, I find myself coming to grips with the spoils of a visit and the sugar overload aftermath.

My Sister, Alida – When my family is together there are so many children that we just parent whichever one is closest to us. My children see my sister as an extension of myself. She loves them all fiercely and goes out of her way to make sure they know she loves them. She and I share a similar life stage and she keeps me sane. At the same time, she thinks of all the fun “aunt” things to do. I’ll never live up to the bonfire and toasted marshmallows visit.

My Sister, Johanna – My sister Johanna is my respite. When “Ana” is around, you know the kids will be out of my hair. Ana spent much of her teen years helping my mom with foster babies and our brother Matthew, many of whom had special needs. As such, Ana is very creative and inventive when it comes to entertaining the kids and reducing parental stress levels. Strangely enough, she is the best and most loving disciplinarian I’ve ever met. Even without kids, I look to her for ideas and support when it comes to keeping my kids happy and in line. She doesn’t put up with nonsense, but knows the art of distraction best of anyone. She has a love and passion for life that inspires and lights up my kids and for that I am eternally grateful.

My Neighbor, Ann – Ann is a dear friend. I don’t think there are many people who can say they have as good of neighbors as we do. Ann greets our children regularly, waves to them from the car, and invites them to swim in her pool. When she stops over to visit she gives them hugs and asks them questions about their small person lives. With 2 girls of her own, she regularly drops off hand-me-down toys, bikes and equipment. She praises them for their politeness and encourages us as parents. Clara always prays for “Miss Ann” first during our night prayers and we thank God for her as well.

My Nanny, Jeannine – Jeannine gets it. When I needed to hire someone in home to care for my children, I long for someone who could be an extension of me. While we are very different, Jeannine is just that. She loves them like I would. She gives them experiences and joy like I want to. She challenges and holds them accountable. With 4 children of her own, she is a skilled teacher and guide. During a very difficult time in my 3rd pregnancy when I was suffering from debilitating depression, Jeannine made holidays and birthdays something special. Not only is she another mother to my children, but she has become a support for me too – sharing our lives and helping to keep my house (and more importantly my head) in order. It took us a lot of time to find her and we would be lost without her.
My children’s Godmothers – We don’t see these women as often as we’d like, but perhaps that is why they make good Godmothers. They are called in a special way to support us in prayer, both the kids and us as parents. Without their prayers, we would be lost. We count on them to be spiritual warriors and resources for our little ones and we count on their prayers to protect us as we ride the crazy parental rollercoaster.

These women and I don’t share a husband (thank goodness), but these are the women helping me to raise loving, fun, and passionate children. These are the women who help me to be a better mother and live in the example of our Blessed Mother. Clearly, we share a heavenly Father and we are all responsible for the little lives, hearts and souls entrusted to us. So with great humility and hope, I say “thank you.” I hope someday to be as pivotal in the lives of other children as the women in the lives of mine.

Who cares for, teaches, and inspires your children? How have you thanked them?

Clara Ann Turns 3

I’m within the month so it counts, right?

Clara turned 3. My little wise-woman is 3. Amazing.

She was laying in bed with me after her nap yesterday and she was all curled around my 9-month-pregnant belly rubbing it and talking to it and I realized, “This little girl is my big girl now.”

In the past year, Clara has really amused us with the little lady she is becoming. She is really sassy, spunky, and all her own person. Just a few phrases from her lingo as of the past year:

“Avocado, are you okay?”

“I’m going to crack you like an egg!”

“There’s a veggie fry in my baby carseat!”

And yet, this edgy little beauty has a deeply emotional side as well.

She regularly despairs over the deceased animals in our family, wishing desperately to go to heaven to see them.

When we were watching Disney’s Fox and the Hound she had an all-out, crying, sobbing, meltdown when Todd the fox was being taken away from his home to the wildlife preserve.

She is notorious for wailing for the parent that she isn’t currently at odds with and often insists, “pat my back, pat my back” before bedtime.

Though very fond of her mother, she is a daddy’s girl all the way. She loves to tell him all about her dreams and makes sure she enjoys all the things he does including hockey.

We have come to believe that she possesses her daddy’s gift of “super palate”. To help my readers understand, Kevin can taste all nuances of things in his food and beverages including when a beer has been poured into glass which previously served a bloody Mary drinking patron – something about the celery salt. Clara will try anything and usually like it. She loves kalamata greek olives, horseradish, salsa, lemons, vinaigrettes, whole grain mustard, and smelly cheese. She regularly smells food on our breath and can identify it.

“Daddy, I smell peanuts on your breath.”

“Mama, I need some chocolate too.”

Her love and curiosity for the Lord and the Blessed Mother continues to grow. She desperately wanted to be involved in my Girlfriends in God art project that involved the Blessed Mother and was tickled pink when I gave her my little compact mirror from the Sisters of St. Francis of the Holy Cross. She memorized the imprinted quote almost immediately.

“May you be the face of Christ to others.”

Then she asked me if we could go visit St. Francis and when I told her that St. Francis was in heaven, she was heartbroken. I offered that we could go visit the sisters and in typical Sappa fashion, asked if we could have breakfast with them.

She is the epitome of emotion and independence inherited from Kevin and me. I love and admire her more each day, but am definitely getting my payback for everything I put my own mother through.

Happy birthday Sappa-Lou! We love you!

My Very Own Preschool (M)ad Man!

My son has become a linguist. In fact, he loves bigs words and phrases and learning how to apply them. I love this little part of him because I am fairly well convinced that he is going to be an engineer or architect someday with the way he loves to build and construct.

However, just to keep me humble, I'll share this story.

This weekend, Kevin was teaching John Ross the concept of "making do" alongside one of John Ross' favorite words, "improvise". John Ross had a hole in one of his socks and we were moments from leaving for church. Kevin said, "John Ross, I have a new phrase for you. Make do - it means when things don't go the way we expect, we just make them work until we can fix them."

John Ross thought for a few moments and said, "Dad, I have a new word for you. More-do."

Curious, Kevin asked, "And what does more-do mean John Ross?"

Without a moments pause he replied, "More-do means when something breaks you go buy a new one."

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the message and messenger I am up against...:)

What We've Been Up To...

While I may very well be proud of how often I've managed to post this year, the past month has been a bit abysmal. Admittedly the fall was really rough. 1st trimester paired with moderate depression and 2 small children was not easy. I'm now 20 weeks, back on depression meds, and feeling much more like myself.

For the first time since September, I've had the desire to spend a morning in the kitchen! I wanted to share some of the fun with you.

Zuchini bread pancakes - We substitute 1/2 carrots for Zuchini and double the recipe because Kevin and the kids ADORE these! Healthy, inexpensive, and so good! I don't even eat mine with topping they are so good! We call them our family super food.

Oatmeal breakfast bars - much like Quakermand completely customizable.

Six Sisters Stuff, 8 freezer crock pot meals in 1 hour - we tried these in bulk for 4 families over the New Year's holiday and so far no duds among them! Took about 2.5 hours for that many though!

I even cleaned our inside freezer and pantry! Next weekend I hope to tackle the holiday decorations, but I'm battling some respiratory gremlins that wouldn't like the dust right now.

It's been a good weekend so far and I'm grateful. 

Introducing...

Baby Boerschinger #3! At least in the womb...See you in May Baby!

Despite some initial concerns, the specialist thinks the baby looks great. Baby is about 11 oz. now and about the length of a banana. The main reason she thinks I can't feel a lot of movement is because baby stays pretty curled up on one side. Pike position or knees tucked up with arms across its face. It moved a lot on the ultrasound, but I didn't feel any of it. Heart and blood flow looks great.



Little face...long forehead like John Ross!



Long toes! It's a Krogh!

My favorite...little legs crossed up so sweet!

The kids were with us and excited to see the baby "wave" to them!

John Ross' forehead, Clara's little cheek bones!

It seems to be pretty shy. Maybe a quiet one???

Never had 3D before. It was pretty neat!

4 Years Going on 40

My little man is 4. I'm about a week late on this post, but that's what happens when you're facing the kinds of mountains I have been. Late or not, he is 4 and I've been a mama for almost 5 years. Whew...

John Ross, your joy is contagious. Your zest for life and curiosity is my life's breath some days. I love watching you figure things out and play pretend with your sister. I cherish the moments when we curl up in bed without Daddy or Clara for snuggle time and a good movie. I am inspired by your work ethic and your desire to be helpful. You are polite and loving. I am so grateful for your sensitive feelings and their constant reminder that life is not about me.

May the world be forever a wonderful, beautiful puzzle. May the growth you love so much as a child inspire you to the end of your days. May your dream to "get little again" keep you young and hopeful. May God bless you, my sweet, loving, spirited, little boy.

Mama loves you always.

The Pill v. NFP: Are They Really Different?

Our beautiful niece Elizabeth! A beautiful example of YES!

Congratulations!! You are a wonderful mama and I'm sure you're very excited for another addition. This baby is very lucky to be born to such a sweet, caring family.

On another note, you say "we are so grateful that we have never imposed barriers to the life-giving gift we've been given. Imagine if God had given us this gift of fertility and we had chosen to use a contraceptive drug that acts to prevent the implantation of a conceived child?"

In using NFP, you take actions to avoid pregnancy. By taking a pill, you're preventing pregnancy. I'd be interested in a post on why avoidance is better than prevention. In reality, the both require the same intent and same result. Is the process actually so important?

I'm not being antagonistic...I really think it would be interesting to read your viewpoint!

I know that I've posted on this before, but it was also before I had children. There is a big credibility difference between someone who has children versus someone who has no children on this topic. The comment and question above is from a really dear friend of mine. I don't typically like to respond to comments, but her question is valid and I know it is one to foster dialogue not arguement. I wasn't sure I wanted to take the time to write a whole post, but after writing a direct email back to her, I realized it was a good post too!

If in fact birth control pills are as effective as they are and I were on them, there is a 99% chance that this baby, our baby, who we now lovingly refer to as "Spud", wouldn't be arriving in 9 months. Some pills prevent ovulation and that would have almost guaranteed no pregnancy. Some pills and devices allow conception, but make the uterine lining inhospitable to implantation, thus causing the body to flush the conceived embryo with the menstrual cycle. Condoms and diaphrams avoid pregnancy by imposing an artificial latex or rubber barrier. This baby was actually conceived (because I chart and I know) well out of my normal fertile window. I was all but positive, by way of my multiple symptom markers, that we were a full week post-ovulation. Suffice it to say, God wanted this baby to be conceived and because we don't use artificial barriers, the baby was able to be conceived. 

The process of avoiding or for that matter, achieving pregnancy, in our hearts matters a great deal because it is the difference between trusting God and believing that we, as flawed and limited humans, are in control. It's actually a pretty holistic approach for us. It impacts not only how we plan our family, but how we eat, how we interact, who we spend time with, and how we give. We were blessed to have been given these 4 infinitives in the first few years of our marriage and they have become a guiding philosophy for our family in so many aspects:

Accept God's Gifts Gratefuly
Nurture God's Gifts Responsibly
Share God's Gifts Justly and Charitably

Return God's Gifts Abundantly.

Don't get me wrong, a condom can break and medication interactions can nullify the effects of many birth control pills, so if God wants you to conceive all kinds of things can happen. However, this way we are not putting up additional barriers to the gifts and life God wants to give us. We don't live in a position/country/economic status where there is any reason to reject God's gift of life. It might make us have to live a bit leaner, with a bit less sleep, and we might not be able to travel as much or purchase the newest gadgets, but really, how can any of that compare to the gift of a child? Accepting a child is one of the most sacrificial, but sanctifying things I've done in my life, and God has provided every step of the way.

I often wonder, philosopher that I am, what if God offered to conceive a child with us who had the potential to cure cancer, but a condom or pill prevented it? (Please know that I propose this in all humility with any of the greatness falling on God and certainly do not presume myself a worthy mother of a child with these gifts.) What kinds of people and gifts are being lost to this world because people with the means aren't willing say YES? No judgement, just curiousity. There are a whole lot of philosophical and theological concepts in there about who you believe God to be and God's role in our world and how far God's power can reach into the free-will of humans lives, but it is a question worth considering for us.

***Sidenote: Humans conceived and not brought to full potential and dignity is also why frozen embryos used in other forms of technologically assisted fertility and embryonic stem cell research raise a concern for us. Human beings in suspended animation until another human decides it's time to see if they can be brought to life is utilitarian at best.

We are constantly discerning where to go with our family. We don't consider ourselves called to be a "big Catholic family" and we are not Quiverfull followers, like the famously large family the Duggars.  In fact, the weekend before we found out we were pregnant, my niece Elizabeth was with us and didn't really sleep through the night and I was pretty affirmed in our discernment of 2 due to some other health issues I've been facing. On the other hand, having Elizabeth with us and seeing the kids with her, Kevin made a complete 180 and thought it might be a good idea to discern a third. 3 days later, God gave us the answer. And it was an answer that had already been in the works for weeks. Strange how that works. And yet, when this baby arrives, we must once again begin our regular discernment of our family size and our call to be co-creators. Moreover, we believe that we have a call to co-create with God and be fertile through God in places beyond our womb, but that does not allow us to close our womb to life. Every month we must enter into conversation and prayer about the gift of life God may be offering us and if God is calling us to say YES.

My relationship with the Blessed Mother has been forever changed by my own experience of saying YES. This world would not be what it is today if it were not for her YES. I can't help but share a favorite reflection on Mary's YES. I have somewhere in my files a wonderful poem written about Mary's Fait (the Latin word for YES) and when I find it I will post it too.

NFP allows us to hold nothing back in our sexual intimacy and allows us to intentionally strengthen our relationship through other forms of intimacy when we are trying to avoid conception. There is a little bit of crunchy mama in there too because I hated what contraceptives did to my body and mind when I was on them through college for abnormal cycles.

 

Honestly, it is a marital decision. So long as a couple is not using an abortifacient form of birth control or Plan B that allows conception but not implantation (even if the science is still "inconclusive"), I can respect whatever family planning decisions they make. I don't believe in relativity, that something that works for me may not work for other people, I just know that respect is key to dialogue as long as a conceived life is not in jeopardy. It's just really important to me to be a witness for the choices and gifts of our own life and to give our perspective and beliefs a voice.

Hello World!

We have an open womb. What does that mean? Well, it means that though we regularly discern our family life and our family size, our womb is always open to the possibility of conception. We don't use artificial contraception in the form of a pill, a device or a condom. We know, despite our best efforts in charting, that if God wants us to co-create another life, our womb is open and hospitable. We also know that besides our spiritual and moral beliefs we face societal, familial, financial, and physical challenges that we must weigh heavily in our decisions about family planning.

Amidst all of our beliefs and considerations, we place our trust in God at the center. We allow our womb to remain open and either acheive or avoid pregnancy naturally by way of a process called fertility awareness. As Catholics, many know this as various forms of Natural Family Planning or NFP.

Our womb is open and God has decided to fill it. Completely in God's own way, well beyond my fertile period (my temperature had dropped, my cervical mucus was dry, and we were a good 8 days past my ovulation day of the past 12 months), we conceived our third child. We are so very blessed and so very humbled that we would again be entrusted with the life and upbringing of another of God's children. We are due at the end of May.

Some of you just did the math in your head and figured out that I am only about 8 weeks along. Some of you are asking yourselves, "Why is she telling the world at 8 weeks? What if something happens?"

If something happens, we will greive and we will share that grief and invite others to grieve with us as we have grieved others. However, our faith and our life is about sharing the joys and the sorrows of this journey. I'm pregnant! And I'm not going to let the fear of darkness and death keep me from celebrating and inviting others to celebrate. There is a new life inside of me and if I were a little less woozy (and could physically do one) I'd do cartwheels!

Trusting God with our gift of fertility is not always an easy road. Most dedicated NFP couples, fertile and infertile, will tell you the same thing. It requires trust and communication with both God and spouse. That being said, after finding out just how blessedly fertile we are (3 babies in 5 years), we are so grateful that we have never imposed barriers to the life-giving gift we've been given. Imagine if God had given us this gift of fertility and we had chosen to use a contraceptive drug that acts to prevent the implantation of a conceived child? Many of the contraceptives work this way and even if the science is still out, would you want to even take the risk a new life being flushed from your womb? We don't.

Every sexual act is a gift. It is a gift between spouses. It is a gift from God. It is a gift that is meant to be life-giving to the husband, the wife and our God. Our marriage vows, shared by most Christian marriages, are between three spirits, not just two. Our sexuality, our fertility, is a gift in which life is to be given and received.

Blessed John Paul II, Saint Gianna Beretta Molla, and Saint Gerard Majella, Pray for Us.

The Enormity of One Drive

It's 8:48a and i've already been humbled.

If I haven't mentioned yet, I am an intensely introverted person. I know this is shocking to anyone who has heard me speak or teach, but I stick pretty close to the vest in social situations. My social anxieties also make marital social events difficult because my husband has a stamp a his forehead that says, "Talk to me, I want to know."

Last night after a really long day and a last minute change of plans we joined a group of Kevin's old friends and their kids for a gathering. I was doing okay after the park. Lots of space, lots of attention on the kids, I could remain fairly annonymous. Then my worst nightmare, the park closed at sunset and the gathering moved to my sister-in-law's home.

4 little boys and 2 little girls. Adults drinking - which I have NO problem with (in fact a beer may have curbed my anxiety a bit), but I choose not to drink on nights before I work because even small amounts of alcohol and I don't function pleasantly in the morning. Mosquitos biting. No air-conditioning. It took all of 20 minutes for my blood pressure to rise and my breath to quicken. As the noise level grew, I bit my lip harder to keep from bolting out the front door to catch my breath. I didn't want to lose it or heaven forbid, cry. I sat quietly in the recliner refereeing my children and watching the "germils" take turns running on their wheel. I know that I was being anti-social, but it was better than having a complete emotional breakdown.

Eventually the night ended and we packed two sweaty little kids in the car for a fairly quiet ride home. I was exhausted. Completely. I didn't even want to talk to my husband and it wasn't because I was angry.

The pall still hangs over me this morning. I had to prepare a pot of soup for a staff lunch and in the hubub of the evening had not gotten to the grocery store for the last minute ingredients. I shot out the door when the sitter arrived to stop at the "neighborhood market" on my way to work in a neighborhood that quite frankly, puts me on guard.

It took me 10 minutes to wade past all the crap aisles to find beans and then I had to weave into a hidden corner of the store to find fresh produce. I settled for collard greens because this is not the kind of place that you're apt to find kale. May I add, this place is a nutritional nightmare for the people in this neighborhood.

I got back in my car and continued down to the next intersection where a middle-aged man was sitting on a decrepit concrete barrier drinking a beer - at 8 in the morning. Yet one more block down I see a twenty-something woman, about 8 months pregnant, waiting for the bus - smoking.

Now, I can't judge the God-given lives of these people. I don't know their circumstances, but is this what our society has come to as a collective whole. And, while I will not down play my own anxiety issues or my experience, I sure have a new perspective from which to look at it from.

It made me go back and read my own recent post at Catholic Mothers Online. Even if I can't turn the frown upside down, what am I going to do today to make my life less about me and more about bettering the world around me?

The Man and the Airplane

A few weeks back John Ross had his first dentist appointment. In preparation for his little boy anxiety (couldn't he have just gotten my eyes???), I scheduled the appointment first thing in the morning. I stuffed granola bars down their throats on the way to the office since an 8:00 appointment didn't allow much time for their leisurely breakfasts.

Ultimately, the appointment went well. They looked at his teeth and even cleaned them ("Mama, I don't like that sandy stuff..."). He didn't even gag once! (That trait could be attributed to me, but I'm going to pin it on his daddy). So, I decided to make up their morning nutritional balance with a special treat: McDonalds!

I rail against the fast-food mentality of our culture, but there is just nothing like a McSchmuffin for a special treat. However, anyone who has been to a typical McDonalds in the morning knows the scene: business people, moms and college students in the drive-thru, the senior and shift-work crowd in the dining room.

So, I march in there with my two under 3, order a breakfast platter with milk and a McSchmuffin and procede to herd them into a booth. After a few squabbles over the shared milk, we settled into a nice meal. We often talk about where our food comes from and this morning was no different. They were for the most part well-behaved little friends.

As I began to tidy our trash and older gentleman walked up to the table. He begins with the phrase any mom dreads, "I have something for you if your mama says it's okay."

What??? Admittedly, my mama-radar raised to level orange. "We're in a public place," I think to myself, "he can't really do anything."

The older man goes on to pull a little Packer's airplane toy out of his pocket and hands it to John Ross. It pulls back and rolls foward and at some point had light and sound capabilities that long ago lost their battery power.

He then turns to me and says in a gruff voice, "I'm single and I eat out a lot. There is nothing harder to tolerate than a bunch of little kids screaming and yelling and running around. So, when I am out and about I pick up little toys and things to give to kids I seeing behaving in restaurants."

Then he walks away. I proceded to explain to John Ross that he had gotten the toy because he had been so polite and quiet and that man was able to eat his breakfast pleasantly.

I'm not sure how I felt about the older gentleman's fairly crumudgeon intentions because his intolerance is a bit unfriendly to families, but it was a wonderful enforcement of the public behavior lessons we've been working on. Some things seem to be so much more effective coming from a stranger.

Moreover, I can't tell you how affirmed I was as a parent. What a blessing it was for someone of that generation to compliment the result of my parenting efforts instead of criticize. That man did more than he'll probably ever realize and for that I am grateful God sent him to us.

The Way My Mother Made Me

I was blessed to have a wonderfully deep conversation about mothers with some dear women recently. The sun warmed our bodies, the food nourished our stomachs, and a cool August breeze signaled to all of us a time of change in our lives.

Over delightfully cold glasses of lemonade we shared about work, ministry and motherhood. As the last few bites were taken the conversation turned to the topic of our mothers.

While I hold very dear the insights, fears, joys, and questions that were raised during this unique conversation and would never betray the trust of my two dearest friends, I will say this and I think it runs true for all women: we are each the way our mothers made us. We live with and learn from their choices, their manners, and yes, even their thighs. We carry their absence and presence with us. We hear their voices, their lessons, and their theologies within just about every moment. Sometimes the lessons are found in their failings or our missing wants and desires, and sometimes they are in the questions that remain unanswered. Nevertheless, they make us who we are.

I'm not going to make that something more than it is. Birth mothers, foster mothers, Godmothers, grandmothers, Virgin Mothers, let it find you where you are and let it speak to you.

Grateful for the beautiful women who blessed me so deeply today with their great honesty and trust, I treated my daughter to her very first tea and biscuits before bed tonight. I relished every blessed motherly moment. As we laughed and giggled and talked about all the good things God makes for us, I prayed somewhere in the hidden realms of my soul that someday the smell of chamomille and lavender will find my Clara remembering her own mommy-dearest, worts and all.

My Mixer Metaphor for My Marriage

About 8 months ago, I was just going about my business making a cake for John Ross' birthday. I was using my KitchenAid mixer to whip up a batch of marshmallow fondant to lay over the cake. Anyone who has worked with fondant before knows that it is a pretty heavy load. I finished my frosting, finished my cake and went on celebrating a sweet little 3-year-old boy.

The celebration ended 2 days later when I went to make a batch of merigues (the lightest possible work load for a stand mixer) and the motor would run, but the paddle would hit the meringue and stop.

Stop.

It stopped.

I got the mixer 7 years ago. KitchenAid as a brand has built its reputation on longevity. Their mixers are meant to last a lifetime. A common wedding gift, one would imagine that it should at least last the length of an average marriage, which in one 2011 study was 8.7 years.

Needless to say, I was annoyed. When I get annoyed, world watch out. I tend to be a bit OCD when irritated. The soupy meringues got pitched and daughter of a mechanical engineer that I am, I delved straight into my mixer.

Yes, I did. I Googled and found out that perhaps my mixer needed cleaning. So with a screwdriver, toothbrush, and popsicle stick, I opened up and cleaned out my entire mixer. It was gross since I didn't know that I was supposed to clean it every few years. With a fresh coat of grease, I put everything back together, plugged it in and turned it on. Same problem. Argh.

I took the whole mixer to my dad at Christmas. If the daughter of a mechanical engineer couldn't figure out a simple motor, her dad probably could, right? Well, after a toothpick and some epoxy fixes, the thing still didn't work. We couldn't get the RPMs right. We decided to replace the phase controller, but that required ordering the piece. So, I took my mixer home, ordered the $7 piece and replaced it. Beautiful, right? Wrong.

At this point, you are all saying, just buy a new mixer. Nope, not this OCD spendthrift. I'm not buying another $200 appliance.

More research. Perhaps it was the electrical wires. Another $30 piece ordered and replaced and finally the RPMs were correct. I seperate some eggs and go to work on my long awaited Resurrection cookies (also a meringue-type cookie). I add the 1/4 cup of sugar from the recipe and not 30 seconds later, the paddle stops and the motor keeps running.

Mental picture time: 8:30 at night, I'm sitting at the kitchen table which is covered with a Valentine's Day table cloth, head in my hands, sobbing and cursing at my mixer. Kevin walks in for the night and suggests we just buy a new one. I snap and him and told him that it is just a stupid machine. Just a motor and some gears. I'm not buying a new one. Period.

Instead, I fiddle and futz with the machine for another 3 hours. I open, close, clean, examine and though I am ashamed to admit it, cried and cursed some more.

Then it happened. I realized that there was a piece missing from a very hidden hole that kept the main shaft from slipping when tension was applied. I remembered that the afternoon that I first disassembled the mixer, a small pin had fallen out the moment I had opened it and I couldn't find it's home. I assumed it was a stabilizer for the casing and had placed it in a random hole in the casing. I pulled it out and fitted it to the hidden hole. I tidied up the gear box, re-attached the casing, and wiped down the counter. With a deep breath and not much hope, I plugged in the mixer, held my hand to the paddle and turn the well-worn handle to "stir".

It worked and actually pinched my finger to the side of the bowl. Forget the finger! It worked!

6 months...6 months of trial and challenge. But I fixed it.

I like to believe that this very long process was an allegory for our marriage. Marriages, like mixers, are supposed to last a lifetime. At the core is a sacrament, a motor. It is the divine energy that sustains the marriage. There are gears, spouses, that convert the energy into work that creates beautiful products, children and good works for the world. Sometimes gears are going to slip, sometimes the spark is going to go out, sometimes the pace is going to be too fast or too slow, and sometimes you're just going to get stuck. God's energy keeps going, but the human parts just don't work. It's not a reason to give up or to buy a new mixer. It's a reason to seek expert help and put some elbow grease into it.

If this experience has taught me one thing, I believe that whenever Kevin and I hit the metaphorical "7-year-stick" we're going to be just fine. I'd like to believe it is because we are loving children of God who understand that marriage is sanctifying and always requires effort, in good times and in bad. However, I know better. The truth is, we are both too stubborn and too cheap to start over again.