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.

She's The BOSS

Michael and I had our first daughter on August 28th of this year. We were so excited and felt incredibly blessed to finally take  home a daughter. The boys in the family enjoy her and think she's a neat thing to look at. I think she's kind of neat too.

But now I answer to a new authority. Her name is Zoey and she's loud. When she cries she makes me wince and shudder worse than knowing my dad was undoing his Luther's belt to whoop my butt. No she really is scarier than my own dad.  This morning she had a belly ache and she was a screaming, loud, grump-a-lump, noise machine!!! I was about to fall over with fear when I finally got her to sleep, placed her in her swing and she began to complain again. She's my boss. And that's sad. Because I'm HER mom. But she doesn't care yet, she's too young to know anything elsse. But she makes the meanest "You're fired" face ever. Her face gets all red and her eyes squint up and she looks at me sideways....like she's gonna wreck me. Michael says to me "Put her down and let her cry for a second..."
I said "I'm scared of her!"
And he laughed and said "That's why you can never get anything done" So I gave him a death glare about that comment.....

But he's right. She's my boss. I accept it for now. I've never been so afraid of someone so little. I used to think Dad's Luther's belt was scary....
The cries of my first daughter make my dad's belt seem like nothing. Scary little munchkin. Good thing my boss is cute, though.

Wicca and Witchcraft Part 2

This is a continuation of my last post about my life in school and how without the graces of the Catholic Church I joined the occult to control my life because I had no control. I had nothing and felt like nothing so I thought Magic would change that for me.

Wicca did change things in my life. At first I enjoyed those superficial changes because I thought I finally had something worth living for in my life. I didn't get everything I wanted, in fact I hardly ever got anything. When I did get something I'd "wished" for or did a spell for I would not blame coincidence, instead I would happilly return to my spell book and be like "Its real! It works"

I met my sister right after my sweet 16. She was also interested in Wicca so I gave her a quick introduction. Something many people have told me is I could teach a class about any topic, because I'm good at explaining stuff to make people understand. I doubt that I'm good at anything, really but hey I will take it! Anyway she soon became a witch and we worked together. We did every kind of spell and demon summoning that you can think of. We were so deceived and so deeply involved.

One day I wanted something superficial so badly I summoned two different demons over and over because I didn't know if it worked. That night some sort of demon came to me. I won't go into details but if you want a scary story in time for Halloween here it is: I was attacked in my bedroom. I was pinned to my bed and I heard the raspy harsh breathing of two demons.

After that I wanted out. Have you ever watched a mafia movie or heard about gangs? And you hear that it takes the person almost losing and sometimes really losing their life to escape the mafia or a gang? Well think of the occult as a dangerous gang. Just because you  stop doing spells, just because you close your book of spells up for good and throw it in the trash, just because you ditch your incantation candles, and  even if you rip up your blood pact, demons, the devil etc they won't necessarily leave you alone. Some days are easier than others when you first leave but attacks occur frequently.

You are afraid to sleep alone because you think sleeping near someone, maybe a sibling, will help you sleep better. One night I woke up in a sweat and my house was gone around me. All I saw was white. I couldn't see my couch, my bed, my belongings, my family. I could only see white and hear evil sounding breaths. I tried to get up but I couldn't walk because I was pinned down. My chest actually felt like a weight was on it. When I finally got free the white disappeared and I ran to my mother. And the rest of the night I didn't sleep well without being right against her.

Many othr times I heard the demons sitting nearly right next to me and chanting "I hate you I will kill you" eerily.

A few tips for good Catholics:
Do not let your kids or yourself become curious about things like Ouija boards or Harry Potter. These things are not safe. Harry Potter legit has real spells in it. Reading it out loud is dangerous...just reading it can get the wrong kinds of things in your mind.

Try to avoid wishing. That sounds over scrupulous and silly but its true. Witches use "I wish" with candle magic as a short incantation. Catholics have small ejaculations. Witches mimic that by having "short incantations" called wishes. Right before a big spell a witch says "I wish" so its not probably possible to avoid that phrase all together but remember to pray and hope and not worry about wishing. Wishing is for devil worshipers. Praying is for faithful Catholics. If your situation is meant to change or if something is meant to happen trust in the divine providence of the one true God and if it happens it happens. I've been guilty even without thinking of saying "I wish such and such" when I forget about the occult...
or  Iforget my passt with it...
But if you're a Catholic you don't have to say "I wish" because you just pray, believe and hope and know that you have what God wants you to have. And be happy and satisfied with your life the way it is now and wait patiently on the Lord to do things in His time. Wishing things away is just a no no IMO but I'm not a priest or a bishop so ask them for clarification I just know what I know because of my past.

And don't believe in luck. Don't give power to things that dont have power. (God is a jealous God after all. Have no strange Gods before him)

And don't believe any witch or magician who says "I only practice white magic" There is no difference. They may be deceived but you don't have to. There is no difference because all their "power" comes from demons.

I'm so paranoid about messing with magic I don't even get involved with "illusion" magic because I don't want my kids to get a seed planted in their head and for them to make any conclusions about "Safe" magic.
That's how they deceived me that there's "Safe" magic there's "white" magic. While card tricks wont bring demons into the home I don't suppose....I imagine it could confuse a young child so I personally don't delve into that with my kids. It was a "simple" movie about witchcraft that got my interest piqued to believe that stuff. So if it was "just" a movie that brought me to Wicca it can be "just" card magic and illusions that makes a kid take it "one step further"

There's no safe magic. Only hell to pay.

Just avoid it.........because it is a dangerous gang. Take it from me, no matter if someone is a Satanist and actually calls Satan by his name or a Wiccan and calls Satan and his cronies by "goddesses" it makes no difference. Its all evil. Stay very far away from it.....
And avoid anything that resembles it.

Wicca and Witchcraft- Part 1

It was the end of my 5th grade year and the end of elementary school life for me. My school was taking all of us 5th graders on a tour of our future middle school/jr high school. We were bright eyed and bushy tailed about visiting the big kids' school. I was so excited I could hardly wait to see the school I was supposed to enter in the next year.

Our bus pulled up to Roosevelt Middle School and we were all anxiously awaiting our turn to get off the bus.

"Man this school is super fly," I thought to myself as I approached the large double doors that were being held open by two 8th graders. First we took a tour past the lockers. The staff member giving the tour explained the lockers and the locker fees and how to get into them each time we changed classes between periods. That was exciting to me because....lockers!!! 

Then we walked into the auditorium where we got to see a pep rally. And every student in the school looked AWESOME and huge. 

"I'm not going to fit in this school," I surmised. I felt small, tiny, infantile and NOT awesome surrounded by all these kids. 

I watched the pep rally with awe as the girls in their immodest dress danced around cheering for the home team, and then they introduced the dance squad, more immodestly dressed than the cheer team, and they wore sparkly leotards that were green and black and tutus that were sheer and super short.  They danced around to pop music with good rhythm and fun funky moves that I knew right away,my uncoordinated self  could not master those moves. 

I went home feeling defeated and tired. Field trips, man. Exhausting.

Fast forward to the following school year when I entered middle school in the 6th grade.
 Now nobody seemed as large as they had at my visit to Roosevelt. They seemed, my age, and my size. Because they were! I received my schedule and my locker and I was pumped to  be a middle schooler.

But I soon learned that I wouldn't fit in with anyone. I wasn't popular, I wasn't one of the cool kids. I didn't have the cool gear, I wasn't pretty and I couldn't dance.

And everyone figured that out soon. I walked  quietly, through the halls, hoping to be unseen and avoided.  Even with that, people noticed me. People noticed me because the less confident you are in school, the less people like you I guess. I tried to hide in the crowds but the girls saw me and shouldered me into the lockers so hard I hurt my shoulder.

I tried to be good and do good deeds and stay out of people's way but they didn't like me. In gym class the boys called me phantom legs, the girls called me anorexic. I hated dressing out. In lunch I sat against a tree away from everyone else because I was a freak. 

Then, I was too well behaved to get lunch detention. I prayed for lunch detention because there was no way for me to get it on my own. I was too chicken to actually get lunch detention. If you don't know, lunch detention is when you get in trouble during class so the teacher writes you up and you have to stay in the class during lunch so you eat in class. I would wish I could be brave enough to be BAD enough to have to sit in class while everyone else got recess. Because I didn't want to be a burden to others by being in their presence. If they couldn't see me they couldn't hate me....that's how my mind worked because I was bullied everyday and I didn't have the graces a Catholic can get because I wasn't Catholic. I didn't know about virtues, I didn't know about offering it up, and I didn't know about the joy of suffering. I was deprived of being raised Catholic so I didn't have the tools to cope with "unfairness"

I was bullied all my middle school years without ever getting revenge or trying to fight back. Then one day it was time to go to high school. And nobody asked me to dances or sent me carnations during Valentines. The other girls got cards and carnations that the school sold to the boys and I got laughed at because I was empty handed. Nobody accompanied me to a dance so I stayed home. I actually didn't even want any girls to ask me to be there for them as a friend because I didn't want to have to talk to people.  I became very anti social because I was afraid of people. People were hurtful and shoved me into lockers, people pushed me and beat me up in the bathroom so I wasn't going to go where all the people were.

 After school one time I went home at 14 and watched a movie called "The Craft" about witchcraft. And I took it a step forward and got involved in Wicca. I wanted to change me, though, not them. I didn't want to put a curse on anyone or get even. I just wanted to be pretty, witty, wise, cute, fun, popular. I wanted to be liked and had I had my Catholic faith I wouldn't have cared to be liked or adored. I would have set my eyes on Heaven. I wouldn't have worried about my physical aspects. I would have focused on getting my soul to Heaven. 

I bought candles with my allowance. I looked all kinds of stuff up. I even wanted a Wicca bible. I THINK my uncle ended up sending me a  Wicca bible and my mom's friend who was 35 when I was 15, gave me a book of spells and an introduction to Wicca.

I was so enthralled, so wrapped up in it that by the time I was 16 I practiced everyday, seeking out other witches and trying to join a coven.

Guess what? Wicca didn't change my life for the best.  It didn't make me more beautiful, it didn't give me anything but problems. 

I had many spiritual problems and "mental" issues because of Wicca. If I could go back I wouldn't have done one spell ever or even watched witchcraft movies. Wicca is dangerous. Read part 2 for more information.

Name Game

So this is the entry where I plan to reveal the names of my children since it only makes sense considering I will tell stories about them. Its much easier to use their first names instead of "Ds1" and things like that to describe my children.


When you first become a parent, for Catholics that's the moment of conception because that's when God has blessed you with life. The moment of truth is when you see the positive sign on the home pregnancy test or if your doctor confirms it. At the very moment you see the positive lines or hear the words "You're pregnant" there are many emotions and thoughts swirling around in your head at once. Its enough to make a new parent dizzy.
"Will there be one or two?"
"Girl or boy? Should we find out? Do we wait til birth and be surprised?"
"What do I need to buy?"
"Should I be on bed rest?"
"How can we afford this?!"
And that's just the start of the thoughts we get in our heads. When Michael (my husband) and I went to my 20 week ultrasound with my first pregnancy we patiently awaited the gender reveal when the nurse gave my husband a knowing look. I knew all along that my child was a boy and then the fun thoughts began, "Will he get into baseball?" "When do little boys start to like their trucks and cars?" "Boy we're gonna be cleaning lots of mud off of fingers and  toes" "I can't wait to teach him to pitch"
and so on and so forth.
Then the naming begins, because we know the gender of the baby we can assign him a name! So we go over every name we like and each of us turn down the names because its jut not ringing well with us. One day I am sitting at our desktop computer and browsing boys names that are Irish because we both have Irish heritage.
The name that I loved was Aidan and we were going to use the middle name Christopher. So for a few months I called the baby growing inside of me "Aidan" I sang to him, I read to him, I loved the name Aidan and it was a name we'd settled on. I even wrote a livejournal entry called Aidan. Mike and I were proud parents and we couldn't wait to see what Aidan looked like. Then my husband got the news that his uncle Angel had passed on. We went to his funeral and Michael paid his respects. We went home with Michael's niece and she mentioned that a girl we barely knew was also naming her son Aidan but spelled "Aiden" and since she also had a son with the same "sounding" name "Jaidyn" we thought long and hard about naming our little boy something else.
Then, as I sat at my computer looking through names once again, I turned to my husband and said "What about naming him after your uncle and cousin?"
So my firstborn inherited the name "Angel Leon" from his deceased relatives. He may never meet them but his name honors them. And my husband loved them dearly.  The little boy I spent 3 months of my pregnancy calling Aidan is now Angel.
People often mistake Angel for a girl because in this day and age Angel is a feminine name. However, Michael once read a names history book that showed that Angel before the 1950s was ONLY a boys name and girls were never named Angel. It wasn't until the late 50s that girls started having the name Angel. In fact, if anyone were interested to look into the history of names, there are a few names that are seen nowadays as "feminine" that used to be boys only names. Angel is one, Ashley is another and Leslie is another.

The more you know.

The rest of my children are:
Abel James who was originally called Christopher James but because my husband wanted an A.J and was convinced he wouldn't get a daughter to call A.J we went with Abel James on the day of his birth.
Zachary John was Paul Anthony for a few weeks then I decided he'd be Zachariah John. His birth certificate said Zachariah John for 24 hours and then I had it changed and shortened to Zachary John
Zoey Jane was pretty much always Zoey Jane.
A few names we threw around for her were Abigail Ann which fell through because there's a local store named Abby Ann's and Zoey Ann fell through also because of Zoe Anne's

Michael's oldest is Joseph Michael. And don't ask me that back story because I aint his mama.

When I was your age

It was a sunny day in early December in southern Louisiana and our trailer home was filling up fast as my mom's family came in to greet a little 9 year old girl on her birthday. That 9 year old was me.  I was anticipating receiving my gifts, most especially my baby doll that had gone unwrapped and I had been anxiously eyeballing everyday up to the day of my birthday party.

I remember I'd go into my parents bedroom and stare at the unopened, unwrapped, beautiful blonde haired baby doll with a small wardrobe consisting of around 6 outfits. I couldn't wait to remove her from her box  and change her dresses and shoes. I did not care about the cake or the other presents. I just wanted that doll.

Finally the day had arrived and I was impatiently awaiting the moment that mattered most: GIFT TIME!!
We ate cake, we sang the song, now it was time to get the doll.  The only other important thing at that party in my eyes, was my cool cousin that was younger than me yet somehow more stylish, smarter, prettier and everything. I wanted to be like her. I saw myself as lame, and goofy. I still see myself that way, kind of lame and goofy.

I  set aside my doll and played with my cousin when all of a sudden she said something hurtful to me. For the life of me I cannot remember the context of the conversation. But she said something to me that hurt my feelings so badly I ran to my room and started crying on my bed. She just mocked me and left my room.
I put my walkman tape player on my head and listened to my 60s cassette tape which had "Its my party" on it.
I played it over and over and sang it over and over.

Then my aunt came in and told me a story that started with "When I was your age"
And thats how I knew she was old.

In my head "Only old people" said phrases like "When I was your age" or "Back in my day"

I listened to her story and I eventually cheered up and got over myself.

The point of all that was to say this:
I was talking online to a kid from my church. He seems young  to me even though our age gap is only 9 years. I was crying on my bed about some cruel words said to me by my younger cousin....when this "kid" was still a nursing infant...
And you know what I said to him during our chat?
"When I was your age"
Ladies and gentlemen when you can say that phrase and mean it
You're old.

Here I come retirement home. Someone hand me my senior card so I can get the discount food at Dennys.
I'm CHECKING OUT!

About Me

Hello world,

I used to write blogs like whoa then one day I stopped because I had kids and also my blogs were not groovy or sour. In fact, they were very boring. I don't expect this one to break my pattern of keeping empty,  dry blogs. However, I am writing it because I want to talk about my life, my family and kids and wouldn't mind sharing it with a few people. Writing also helps to keep me from blabbing someone's head off in person. If they want to have their head chewed off with verbal diarrhea I can direct them to my BLOG. 

Here are a few facts about this silly SAHM writing the blog:

My name is Rhea and that's not pronounced like Ree-uh as people often think. If you think that, you're probably right. My parents can't spell.  I love them though. My name is actually pronounced RAY-uh. But its cool if you mispronounce it.  Its a heathen name anyway haha. 

I have 4 children of my own and a stepson who is almost 16.  

My husband and I feel very blessed to have our kids and we are open to having more if God should continue to bless us.  My oldest  OF my own is 6 years old and my newest little one is only 6 weeks. 

We are all traditional Catholics and attend Mass every Sunday and on Holy Days of obligation. We're not  saints or any thing like it and I hope I never come close to claiming anything like it. We actually just recently converted to the faith and started the conversion process  last November.

Some more quick facts in the bullets....for your reading enjoyment because I know you (the reader) enjoy reading about my awesomeness....

Kidding

• I was born in the winter of 86
• I'm petrified of most types of crawling or flying insects. If its like a lady bug or a doodle/potato bug I'm not scared of it. I just don't want it in my house.
• My all time favorite snacks are chunky chocolate chip cookies like homemade and brownie icecream
• My favorite sandwich: fried banana and peanutbutter
• Favorite drink: grape flavored water.
• I HATE tap water. First world problems, I know.
• I have 4 younger brothers, 1 half sister, 1 step sister.
• I am color blind.
• Being color blind makes me not trust meat that I cook. Even if my husband says its fine.
•  I tend to talk too loudly. 
• I am learning sign language because two of my children have speech difficulties related to their epilepsy
• I also have epilepsy.
• I can't drive and don't think I'll ever learn.
• I still like watching certain cartoons like Phineas and Ferb and Teen Titans Go.
• I love comic books with super heroes even though I'm trying to distance myself from that kind of stuff.
• I love to read when I have time.
• I find TV mostly annoying except SEE above. LOL
• I'm very happily married to my very best friend in the whole world and I don't care if that's cheesy

Whats this blog about?

• My family
• Fun things I've done or plan to do or whatever
• Memories
• My life
• Nothing
• Everything.

And I plan to keep the content safe for the "whole" family to read. Its going to be written from a traditional Catholic perspective and any issues I present will be from that stand point. So its not FOR everyone but I also don't expect a big audience or to garner a lot of interest. I just want to share it with my Catholic friends and family.

Thanks for reading. :)