Aw nuts!

Pecans are a guaranteed autumn treat in southern Louisiana. Autumn would come along, the warmth of summer slowly drifted away and became chill. The days were shorter and school was in session. After school Mom would check our homework and send us out back to gather pecans in buckets or bowls. We had a tree and all of our nearby neighbors had trees. So those of us who had feet to walk, walked. And we stepped out, crunching leaves beneath our shoes and gathered up pecans. We checked them over looking  for rot or the appearance of squirrel bites. If it was whole and intact we clunked them into our buckets.

If not we played with them, chunking them against trees or tossing them playfully at one another.

And we'd go inside after a good haul and place the loads of pecans on the kitchen counter and every autumn mom would say she was going to use them for pecan pie but every autumn we would end up eating them plain. Some times I would crack them open with my teeth and Mom would say "Rhea go get the nut cracker," and smile or elbow me playfully. But I would catch her doing the same and get a good chuckle. Opening pecans with your own mouth is not a brilliant idea. Trust me. It makes your jaws sore and then sometimes the nasty bitter part of the nut gets caught in your teeth and you taste it forever. 

In Ohio the thing to gather from trees: Buckeyes. Michael says they aren't so good. I will take his word for it.

Insisting that your children go to Mass can save their lives

As Catholics we realize that going to Mass is good for your body and soul. And we believe this, truly. However, I have a true story, as true as I'm sitting here typing this up, that kind of "brings home" that point. So let me get right to it and explain how going to Mass literally saved the lives of my two oldest children.

It was late spring, 2011, Mother's Day to be exact. The Novus Ordo parish I was accustomed to attending was having a Mother's Day Mass. My husband was not interested in going to Mass he was at the time staunchly Protestant. However, he gave in to my whims and drove me to Mass almost every Sunday. Sometimes he insisted on taking our children home. He assumed having the children there was too much of a distraction. So I'd allow him to occasionally take them back. This Sunday was different, it was Mother's Day. I wanted my children to be with me on Mother's Day. We pulled up to the large church in downtown Akron and parked. I rounded the car to the passenger's side. My youngest was crying and my oldest was fidgety.
 "Let me just take them home" said Michael to me, seeing the children were not in their "church ready" state of mind.
I could see Angel, who was 3, was wriggling and moving about, unfocused and being....3. Abel, who was not quite 1 was crying in his infant carrier, fussing loudly.
"I can just take them with me," I said, rather meekly.
"No, no for once you should be able to go to Mass and just listen and take it all in. Its Mother's Day" Michael insisted.
My shoulders slouched as I thought about what he was saying. In my selfish mind, being child free for one mass couldn't hurt. I started to step away from the back door of our Saturn. I let out a sigh. I almost gave in.
Then I thought about all the other mothers at Mass and a voice of reason resounded in my head from weeks ago
"If you dont take them to Mass now they will not ever learn with repetition how to sit still and behave"
So I stepped forward, leaned into the car and said "No I will take them. I promised to raise them Catholic and that includes going to Mass"
Mike shrugged and helped me get Abel's infant carrier out of the car.
"Okay but they can just come home with me," he insisted one final time.
I smiled and said "I know, thank you but I can handle them. You go home I will call you at the finish of Mass."
I lugged a diaper bag and infant seat into an empty pew with Angel at my side. We went through the motions of a typical Novus Ordo Mass. There was even one, most embarrassing part, where the "priest" had all the mothers stand to  be applauded. I stood like everyone else but I loathe to be noticed so I didn't like it and at every moment that we had to stand I was praying to be allowed to sit. I would have liked to not stand but an Indian woman behind me tapped me when I didn't and basically gestured for me to stand.
Before the Mass was ended the back doors to the chapel swung open. My husband came to our pew in a hurry. He leaned over and whispered "Come on we have to go there's been an accident"
Michael explained to me every moment of the accident. He explained that he was not the driver at fault but that a woman in a minivan who was not looking at the road and ran her light was the driver at fault. It was a 3 car crash and our car had taken significant damage.
He also said the car seat I left behind had taken a hit from some 75 pound speakers he had attached to the back of the car for more listening power. But that's not all the other 75 pound speaker landed in the seat that would have held Abel's car seat.  The impact of the speakers would have killed our infant son and possibly if not definitely put Angel in intensive care or worse...dead.

So that's the story of how, as invalid as that Mass was, insisting my kids always go to church, literally saved their lives. They are here today because of that nagging voice that reminded me to take the kids anyway. Take them anyway so they will learn to sit still.

Mass or Mess, my kids are still here.
Every so often I will hear Michael say to me "Thank God the children were with you on the day of the accident"
I usually hear him say this when he is holding his back in the spot that was most affected during the accident. He will hold his back and groan about the pain. And then he will say "But because of your insistence that the children be with you that Sunday, they are still here. Thank God!"

Yes, thank you God for sparing my children. Thank you for making us Catholic. And thank you for the little things too.

That's my story from Mother's Day 2011. The best Mother's Day present I've ever gotten was a hefty miracle from God. My children's lives.

God can do all things

I am up early because my kids are off schedule from when they got sick and I decided to write an entry. When I was about 4 years old my uncle read me a few bible stories and taught me about God in the simplest way a child could learn. He was only 15 and his parents had long broken their promise to raise him Catholic. He told me the story of Moses first and I recall sitting in my bed and listening to him with such astonishment. I was so enthralled with this Creator that talked through a bush which didn't burn yet was on fire. And I was amazed and interested...captivated by His might. When I realized he can do all things and is not limited by anything I instantly trusted him. At age 5 like many American children I was enrolled in kindergarten and because of the few lessons and prayers I was taught by my uncle, I prayed before lunch and before bed and as often as I knew how. I was deprived of our Lord in the way Catholics get him but I loved Him nonetheless. I believed  in Him better then than I do now. At some point in Kindergarten there was a lice outbreak and my hair was susceptible to lice. If you're ignorant of what lice are: they are bugs you get on your head or clothes or body and are not easy to get rid of. Google it or ask your mom haha. Anyways many students became infested myself included. And I cried many tears of shame. But when my parents failed to remedy the lice right away my first being I thought to ask was God. I figured if He could make man from dust, woman from rib, and bushes burn without burning then he could get rid of the lice that caused me great suffering, embarrassment and also prevented me from going to school. So I got on my knees by my daybed and prayed and asked God to cure me of lice. And with upmost sincerity I said "God I know you can do it. My mom can't and my dad can't and I can't please cure me of the lice!" And I went to bed and I believed. I trusted him. I just gave Him my problem and I woke up the next day and showered and Mom checked my hair and they were gone. And I tell this story not to prove Gods existence or prove miracles but simply to say this: children trust so much believe so strongly and hope greatly. Now that I'm grown and can receive Christ in holy communion and know about God in a more "in depth" way I have actually more pride and less trust than I had when I was just an ignorant child...little more than a pagan because I had no baptism, no catechism and no church...just a teen aged uncle, a novus ordo precious moments bible, and two hands folded in prayer. I loved God more then than I do now. And I hope to regain some of that trust and humility. Practice makes perfect I hope.

Prayers and practice....

I just want to add...that this entry is not an argument for ignoring ones faith or not taking serious interest in ones religious studies. The untold portion of this story about a memory from many years ago is....by the time I was 9 I stopped caring about God and His majesty. Due to very little religious instruction, sometimes none, and nobody to teach me my faith, no baptism, no sacraments, no mass, no one to teach me to pray, no example etc...I lost interest and I strayed and eventually fell into paganism, and more dangerously...I eventually went with occultism, agnosticism and atheism.

It took very little to get me started in a love for God but I needed more to build up more and keep it going. And it took just as little to make me resent God. Religion is always needed to keep the faith, to help the fruit grow and flourish...
If you have the faith, sacraments and the treasure trove that is the Catholic Church then don't let it go...we know it's not simply belief that keeps one strong. Even Satan believes.

Life is only a second long

Are you ready to feel a bit disheartened by my posts? This post is about to be a little depressing. But its going to present a bit of FACTS to you, my reader. OR me my future self who may stumble across this blog entry and go "What a jerk I was"

Life is only a second long. You're thinking "No its not, dummy, can't you math at all?" Yes I know, on average humans living in the United States have an overall life expectancy of about 80 years.  Which means we all have about 2524554080 seconds, give or take a few thousands depending on how long you live.

However, metaphorically speaking, life is only a blink of an eye. And if you're God and live outside of time the life of one human is like probably indescribably short in the grand scheme of things.

We're here and then we're gone. One of the entries I made described a short scene from my 9th birthday. It actually takes longer to describe my 9th birthday than the memory can last in my mind. I remember many details but that day was gone as soon  as it was there. Its a blur, a short lived moment in my life. Every point in history is just a blip on time. Just a tiny dot. Many days in my past are blips on my time line. Yesterday, because it is closer to me seems bigger, but last week is a blur, seems distant, seems minuscule. The whole week seems to blur together as one solitary moment. The memory of my first born son's birth and the entire event, even the process of delivery and every moment up until my labor started is just a blink. I can visualize that day and remember it but its just a blink. It lasted a "long time" on that very day but now looking back it didn't seem to last long at all.

When I was a kid I couldn't wait to grow up. I have a memory that if I blink its gone. It takes less time to visualize it than it does to type this entry. That's how short that day lasted. Yes it was 24 hours long but it was also just a blip. Its weird to explain. I have this memory of me laying on my bed at 10 years old and looking up at the ceiling light. I was holding a stuffed yellow elephant I had gotten from a garage sale. I looked sadly over at the door in my bedroom and then back at the ceiling light. I closed my eyes so I could see the colors from staring at a light too long and a tear rolled down my cheek. I was scared. For some reason in that short moment, that blip in time, I was able to recognize life for what it is....gone in a minute. I saw a future flash before my eyes but that flash that's exactly how life feels. That flash is how quickly I got from being 10 years old and sobbing on my bed to being 27 with 4 kids. I saw, and visualized in my head my growth, adulthood, aging and dying. And I cried because I didn't want to grow up. So I called to my mother, tears soaking my cheeks and I sobbed out loud "I don't want to grow up"

But a few days later I wanted ice cream and Mom said I had to wait so I thought "Dang it I can't wait to be grown so I can eat ice cream whenever I want"

Now that I'm grown, that  thought seems so silly to me. I don't want to eat ice cream at any random time. I don't even  always have the money to get ice cream . I have to pay so many bills and for kids things that ice cream isn't even on my mind that often.
Now that I am a grown up, an adult, I think to myself "I would like it if I had just one more day to live out my childhood so I could play with my brothers, be a good big sister, behave better for my parents, enjoy my toys and my family"
I think I would have liked to be a kid for one more moment.  If I could get 24 hours of childhood back for just 24 hours I sometimes think I would just because I truly did not cherish what it meant to be a child. I thought being an adult was no rules, eat what you want, sleep when you want.
And its not. You wake up at 5-6 a.m and you go to sleep because you're  tired and have no choice, exhaustion consumes you, and you're tucked in your bed by 10-10:30 the latest.

I really know that I do not want to be a kid again not even for a short time. Not because childhood was a total lame section of my life. But because I have my own kids to watch over and care for and love on and watch them grow. And that to me is more important than revisiting some moment in my past.

I digress, the point of this entry is.....that every day is gone before you know it. Every minute is as tiny as a grain of sand and at the end of your life you'll probably look back and say "Where did it all go?" Even if you spent every moment doing something of importance, even if you never intentionally let a second slip away you'll still wake up one day and have a memory of a specific event in your life and you'll think of it and go "That day didn't last long  enough"
Thinking back on different days in my past I say "I didn't cherish that moment enough"
or "I wish I would have taken it all in so I would never forget even one second" But you do, and you can't control  it. And in the grand scheme of things, how much time you get isn't important its how you spend it.

Now that I'm Catholic I know its important to spend each day in conversation with God. Its important to grasp every spare moment for prayer. Its important to store up my treasures for Heaven. Its not as important to try to grab every second like a miser grabs every penny as if its going to all run out. Because it will all run out. Your last grain of sand will fall as you take your last breath and how fast it all went won't matter. How you spent it will.

Thank God for every "Grain of sand" he gives you. Some people don't even get more than one before they draw their last breath.

But remember....its gone before you know it.  So use each "grain" wisely.

Your life is precious. But it only lasts a second....


You may comment now "Rhea you're a bummer"

Munchkins Say Howdy Do!

Well its been awhile since my last update so I wanted to find something to write about.
First: Talking dolls should be banned. They freak me out. My dad's wife gave Zoey a talking doll and it says "Munchkins say 'howdy do' we are here to cheer for you! Yeehaw Woo hoo!"
She can't use it yet, naturally. The boys don't like it but Abel is most verbal about it

"That's a stupid doll, Mommy!"

Its not only stupid but creepy. It reminds me of a doll I once saw in a horror movie when I was young that would say something like "Howdy do" or some corny catch phrase right before coming to life and talking. The doll in the movie was supposedly possessed by a human demon.

Okay so talking dolls are creepy.

Moving on, I have other short updates.

My husband and I are now enrolled in the brown scapular, yay, right? Its pretty awesome. God has allowed, though, that the scapular and its cord should cause me great pain and burning and itching.  I am not even allergic to wool but I am very much bothered by the scapular and its cord. As soon as father blessed it I felt the pain. My back looks like a cat scratched it up. But its okay, suffer now to avoid the flames of Hell or purgatory later. Maybe. I don't wanna call it yet but I'm trying to add on to my crosses so I can at least suffer less later. Maybe only have to spend a few years in purgatory versus the thousands I've surely earned.

Maybe? I don't wish to presume I'm just talking here.

Father came over to our house and had dinner with us. He asked specifically for manwich. So we made that but to fancy it up I had appetizers offered. Pretzels, cheese and a veggie tray.
First we prayed.
Then he had manwich, homemade mashed potatoes, asparagus and followed it up with mixed vegetables. After that he had a slice of pumpkin roll.
I tried to still make it formal even though it was sloppy joes. He said its his favorite.

After dinner we chatted and had lots of laughs. Then he played harmonica and guitar. Finally we were enrolled in the scapular and then he had to leave around 10:30.
 The next time we have him over he's going to do the ceremony to enthrone our home to the sacred heart of Jesus. I will make dinner for that too. I'm thinking to mix it up I'll do a mouthwatering potroast and steamed veggies since he already got sloppy Joes.

Also we bought a VCR but Mike put it in the kids room. I kind of wanted it in the living room but since its not a religious matter and none of the tapes are questionable I'm submitting to him on this decision.  Its really not a matter of importance.

And lastly:
I got a dishwasher for Christmas.

That's my update for now. I will write again soon about something maybe more interesting. Perhaps an essay about advent because that's how I roll.

-Rhea

Going Steady and other phrases I didn't understand as a kid.

A serious 5 o' clock shadow, amirite?

When I was a kid there were a lot of phrases I didn't understand or that didn't make sense to me. Sometimes I'd pretend to understand with a simple nod. This entry will go over a few of those phrases, explain what I thought was being said and then explain what was actually meant.

First on the list is "Gong steady" it was never used when I was growing up by people in reality but I'd see on old sitcoms like "Brady Bunch" the use of the phrase "Going Steady" and I'd say "Why does Jan want to go steady with a boy? She can easily do that with her sisters or ask her dad or mom to steady with her?" Because I thought she was saying "Go study"

What does going steady mean for our younger audience?  Basically its just being boyfriend and girlfriend.  Making it "official" you're no longer just going to a couple movies to get to know each other you're now "a thing" I guess.
 But anyway I didn't understand the idea and thought anyone could go steady with anyone else because I thought that meant the same as go study which is just reading books together to prepare for a test. Ha!

My parents would say "Oh so you think you can have your cake and eat it too?" I would say "No?" because I was sure, by their tone, that the correct answer was no. But I'd think to myself "Well whats the point of having a slice of cake if you can't also eat it?"

Have your cake and eat it to means you can't have the best of both worlds. The way the phrase used to be said was you can't eat your cake and have it too. Which really makes more sense. You cannot EAT your cake and yet keep it. If you want to eat it you cannot still have it. Haha that's a smarter way to say it. But parents don't like to make things easy on kids, I sometimes think thats why we do it. We like to confuse kids? :P Its a punishment? I don't know haha.

Sometimes my parents would say stuff like "This cost me an arm and a leg" Or "No we're not buying that! It will cost an arm and a leg" I used to picture that if something cost an arm and a leg that you'd go into the store and have to have your arm or leg removed to buy said item so I was afraid of my parents having to get anything that cost and arm and a leg.
I later found out that "an arm and a leg" were just phrases that meant "A ton of cash"

And finally when my parents would say they were going to go out and paint the town red I thought they were literally going to take my dad's striping machine and use red paint on all the streets or something.

And I didn't understand what a man's five o clock shadow was. I thought a man was like a groundhog but instead  he had a shadow at like 5 oclock that was special.
Now I know that means he needs to freshen up his shave because of stubble.

That's it...I was a goofy kid. There were other phrases adults used around us kids that we didn't get but those were the top ones.

The 90s were Fanfabultastic

Last night a kid from my church says that the only good thing to come out of the 90s is him. I find that debatable at least. I was a kid of the 90s. He is a kid of the 2000s so he can't see how fantabultastic the 90s were.
Actually, in the 90s we had some goofy trends. But nothing tops the goofy trends of late: sagging jeans that reveal the boxer shorts of a tattooed miscreant, pajama wearing girl with hair rollers left in for effect,  uh and "Juicy" on shorty shorts. So I don't think much will be able to top that. Not to mention facial piercings of the 21st century. Gauges that make you gag from their unsightliness, they are so large you can see the inside of someone's mouth, or put a coke can through someone's sagging ear lobe, for example.
So while the 90s fads were kind of funny, I think the 21st century tops the charts on the level of stupidity people are willing to reach to shock others or to be trendy.

I just want to talk about a variety of things I remember, nostalgically, from my childhood of the 90s!

One of my favorite things about the 90s was getting the privelege to flop down in front of the tv and flip on the Super Nintendo.

This thing, for the record.

I'd blow on the inside of the cartridge of Super Mario Brothers "just to be sure" before popping it in.
And see this radical opening screen

Then it was game time when I'd hear the fantastic sounding song which was also really rad.

Kids in the 90s jam out to this tune! Its keen and gnarly  and radical and groovy okay??


So anyway then I'd wear my JNCOS. Which were not cool by the way. I was a tomboy.
IF a girl ever wanted to look like a boy in the 90s, wearing boys JNCOS was the way to go. You lost al your femininity in those jeans.  They looked like this

"

"Sk8rs" wore these most often but so did any girl who wanted to fit in with the boys or be a tom boy.
Yuck!!! Yes those are hideous. What were we thinking?

And I liked playing with my only girl toy I had then (practically)
SKIP IT

\

I remember how to use it and it had a little ticker on it to tell you how many times you jumped over it. I got it for "free" from buying Kellogs cereal and turning in points online back when we thought we had to type in "Www." before punching it in. Yes we had internet when I was a kid. And guess what? You used to have to wait "6-8 weeks" for a package and you actually HAD to wait 6-8 weeks.  Nowadays you can get a package in a few days after ordering it. The other girls only toy I had growing up was this

And it was brought to school. I had a nanobaby and she was mean like Zoey. She kept running away and yelling at me for not doing something for her and she kept getting sick and I couldn't fix it most of the time. One day I got mad at my nano baby for yelling at me and I threw her down the stairs and her screen broke. So I was done and Mom said "Rhea I am going to look at you extra careful when you have kids of your own if this is how you treat a crying nanobaby"

I said "Not uh Mom! I am gonna be a nun I aint havin no kids" 

Yeah I never lived up to that promise.

Other things about the 90s before I sign off:

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

All the shows I watched as a kid...

And I'm signing off to say: Man I'm glad the 90s are over but it was still fanfabultastic even though we were really also very lame.