7QT: Memorial Edition

1. This article is more than 10 years old, however I read it only recently and it's been quite timely. Always go to the funeral. Do it for the family.

2. On January 14th I picked up my phone to find a funny text to show my mom and was shocked instead to read that Fr. Bill Baer had passed away unexpectedly. Although I can't imagine he would have known who I was if I had gone to shake his hand after mass, Fr. Baer had had a profound affect on my life. At a time when I was spiritually lost and alone, I walked into his confessional; Fr. Baer looked up at me, smiled, and said, "welcome home."

His funeral, which I was blessed to be able to attend with my family, was an incredible celebration of hope and joy, both of which he radiated during his time on earth.

3. On January 30th my Great Aunt Grace passed away after a short but intense battle with bone cancer. She was diagnosed late last year after going in to the doctor for back and chest pain. They discovered that the cancer had weakened her bones to the point that they were cracking from everyday use, and all they could do was try to ease her pain in her last few weeks.

She was my Grandmother's only sister and best friend and the loss has been hard to bear. Adding to the burden, there was no memorial service or funeral to attend. Although I'm not sure what all went into the decision not to have a service for her, I do know that Grace believed in the power of the Universe rather than God, and if she believed in an afterlife it was probably reincarnation. She was offended by offers of prayers, and so in my last Christmas card I wished her comfort and joy and didn't mention that she had made it to the top of our nightly list of intentions.

4. Less than a week ago my uncle's best friend died, also of cancer. They had been friends, more like brothers, for 40 years. Both passionate and talented musicians, they played in several bands together and jammed with friends every Saturday night for many years. Although I only met him twice at concerts, I grew up hearing Kurt's name, and I know how deeply my uncle is hurting with this loss. My husband and I went to the memorial service last night and I read Kurt's obituary out-loud on the way. Beautifully written, it made us both wish we had had the chance to sit down with a few drinks and enough time to hear a few of the many stories he had to tell.

It was a strange experience going to a memorial for a man we hadn't known. At first it felt like an intrusion, but after a few stories were shared it began to feel more like an honor. After the time for sharing, I was able to spend a little time talking to both of his parents, to hug his mom and listen to a few of her own stories, and to let them know that we're holding them in prayer.

Humans are storytellers. It's our way of obtaining immortality on this side of heaven, and I think there is a fundamental need in those of us who are left behind to keep our deceased loved ones close, even just a little longer, by telling the stories that we shared with them.

5. I sent the lyrics of this song to my uncle. I don't know if they'll give any comfort - I do know they won't fill the void - but I hope they'll speak the hope that I don't know how to say.

6. In a way it's fortunate that this winter (and February in particular) has been so difficult. Lots to offer up! However my toddler doesn't see it that way. Sprout gave me a hug yesterday and said, "Mommy, can I go out into the wonderful world of snow?"

7.  We're back on the cold train and haven't been out of the house for days. It's been a long, snotty, tired week cooped up together and patience has been running thin. My mother-in-law graciously came to babysit last minute so we could attend Kurt's memorial. Sprout threw me under the bus when he announced to his Grandma, "Mommy says she's going to throw me in a snowbank!" Thanks, kid. Sunshine and 40's predicted for next week! I'd be ok with March coming in like a lamb.

Check out more quick takes here.

7QT: Penitential Birthday Edition

1. Today is my 33rd birthday. I am now what some people say is the perfect age - the age Christ was when he died - and so it seems somewhat appropriate that it falls on this first Friday of Lent. This is also the last year I can claim to be in my early 30's... I'm having a little trouble wrapping my mind around that.

2. Since Valentine's fell on Ash Wednesday and my birthday is a Friday in Lent, we did most of our celebrating early. Sunday was my "official" birthday celebration, complete with brunch, Tres Leches cake, and a beautiful new sewing box. Eric ordered it for me from Poland, via Etsy. The detail is beautiful and after years of needles and thread all jumbled together in a shoe box I am thrilled with the various compartments, not to mention the beautiful design.

The kids surprised me this morning with two more gifts - Disney's Tangled and Vivaldi's The Four Seasons. How's that for variety?

3. We combined Valentine's and Mardi Gras and celebrated with a breakfast-for-dinner feast. I've never been a big fan of the romantic interpretation of Valentine's day; I'll never turn down a gift of flowers, but I'd rather celebrate as a family (or before having a family of my own, with friends). And so on Valentine's we might have gifts or cards, but the main celebration is a special family dinner.

I grew up eating Norwegian Pancakes on many a special occasion, and introduced Eric to their odd deliciousness on our first Valentine's day together. This has now become the tradition, and the fresh strawberry topping makes them especially festive.

I will never be a food blogger

Norwegian Pancakes

1 c. sour cream

1 Tbs. white sugar

2 eggs, beaten

1 c. white flour

Whisk together until smooth and add a little bit of milk, just enough to thin the batter a bit. (1 or 2 Tbs.?) Pancakes are dense and should be small (2 inches or so across). Fry on greased pan until golden brown. Use a low heat to ensure middle is cooked through. Eat with butter, powdered sugar and fresh berries or jam. Enjoy!

4. Since we are not having cake today, I had chocolate chip banana bread for breakfast and have been slowly finishing off the loaf over the course of the afternoon. Even though I didn't give up chocolate, the bread is so good it feels like cheating somehow.

I love to bake, and quick breads are a regular occurrence around here. They're consistently delicious, easy to improvise, and both freeze and gift well. While zucchini and pumpkin are my personal favorites, banana is the most common because, well, bananas are cheap and go brown fast. Here is my go-to recipe (written with the assumption that you have some baking experience and don't need detailed instructions. Sorry if that's not the case.)

Easy Banana Bread

3 bananas, very ripe
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
½ cup canola oil
1 ¼ cup flour (white, whole wheat, or blend)
½ tsp. salt
¾ tsp. baking soda

Bake at 375 for 45-60 minutes. Makes one loaf.

I like to blend the bananas with the wet ingredients before mixing in the flour; it cuts down on banana chunks and the infusion of air from the blending makes the finished product lighter. As I mentioned, I typically add chocolate chips for added yumminess.

I also like experimenting with substitutions, and last time I actually remembered to write down the adjusted recipe after it turned out oh-so-good. The coconut sugar adds a nice crispness to the top, the flax egg adds a hearty nuttiness, and the yogurt keeps it moist while maintaining just the right density.

Easy Banana Bread - Substitution Version

3 bananas, very ripe
½ cup white sugar
½ cup coconut sugar
1 egg
1 flax egg*
1 tsp. Cinnamon
¼ cup canola oil
¼ cup Greek yogurt, plain
1 ¼ cup flour (white, whole wheat, or blend)
½ tsp. salt
¾ tsp. baking soda

Bake at 375 for 50-60 minutes. Makes one loaf
*flax egg: combine 1 T. ground flax seed with 2 T. warm water. Let sit for a couple minutes before adding to other ingredients.

5. Today is the feast of St. Onesimus. He's the slave for whom Paul pleads in his letter to Philemon, which was my favorite book of the Bible even before knowing I shared a special day with its subject. I chose it as a favorite not because of its incredible brevity, but for verse 12: "I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you."

6.                            The glory of God is man fully alive. ~St. Irenaeus 

In my adult life I've taken to making resolutions on my birthday rather than at New Year's. It's the beginning of my new year, and therefore more personal and more likely to "stick." Since the beginning of this new year corresponds with the beginning of Lent, it seemed natural to combine the resolutions. The object of both, after all, is to grow in virtue and become "more fully alive."

This year my resolutions are aimed at becoming kinder, gentler, and more self-disciplined. Although not part of my Lenten resolutions, per se, I have decided as of today to make time management a real goal this year. I tend to be late as a matter of course, and it wears on my poor husband's timely nerves to no end. I could (and may have been known to) say I'm helping him to develop the patience of a Saint, but I should probably turn the focus on my own sanctity for this one.

7. In typical two year old fashion, Sprout has been wanting "to be hold" whenever both my hands are otherwise occupied. And when I have to set him back down after a snuggle he's been wrapping his arms around my neck and saying "I've yocked you in a yife of yuv!" (Darn those tricky "L"s!) As I was disentangling myself for the third time yesterday, it occurred to me that he has come up with the best description of parenting I've heard so far... locked in a life of love. The wisdom of the pure(ly mischievous) of heart!

These two! Locked in their love is an okay place to be :)

I've done a bit of blogging besides the Quick Takes and have already managed to touch on the controversial and deeply personal. Despite plugging them here I feel a little conflicted about encouraging anyone to read my other posts... so first check out the other Quick Takes here!

Remember You Are Dust: Christian Hope and the Fear of Death

"Those who have hope live differently."

 -Pope Benedict XVI

As a Christian, hope in Christ's promise of Salvation is - how should I put it - kind of a big deal. So what do you do when the thought, not only of death but of heaven itself, terrifies you?

If you are me, you pray that Christ will take this cross from you before that dreaded dying day. But you also try to come to terms with the fact that he might not.

~~~

I have been terrified of death - both of dying and of losing a close family member - for about 20 years now. For most of that time I have coped by telling myself it will never actually happen.  Even though I'm well aware it's not true, there's been some small comfort in the self-deception. It's only been in the last year or so that I've finally found the courage and resolution to start confronting these fears, even if only in small ways.

First, as I said, I pray that Christ will take this cross from me. Rather than dwelling on death when it comes to mind (as I am prone to do) I ask that the fear be removed, and then try to put it out of my mind. This is much easier said than done, but it's slowly becoming more of a habit, and I am thankful for what I know has been the grace to get even to this point.

Second (and this is pure gift), I have come across several reflections in the past year that have been great consolations on this dark road toward hope. I will share these reflections here in the hope that they may be a comfort to another soul struggling with similar fears.

~~~

I cannot give proper credit to the first reflection, because I wrote it in my journal months ago and didn't note the source. It is part of a comment on an article or blog post, and I do remember that the commenter was sharing her own struggle with a fear of death. She said:

I've taken it to Jesus and asked: does this show a lack of trust, that I live in fear? And He told me, no, I've felt fear too. In Gethsemane, I was scared. As I carried the cross, I was scared. I will sit with you in your fear. But take this fear and let it feed love, and hope in the world to come.

This Lent, as I meditate on the way of the cross and the Sorrowful Mysteries, I am going to keep these words in mind. I will try, in my small way, to sit with Jesus in his fear and desolation, and ask that he sit with me in mine.

~~~

I came across the second reflection in November when I "randomly" decided to restart the habit of reading the Daily Mass Readings each morning using a Catholic Devotional with short commentaries for each day. As soon as I saw the heading on the reflection for the day, I knew the idea to read had not been my own - Someone knew I needed these words. The reflection is titled "God Did Not Make Death" and is a commentary on the first reading, from Wisdom 2:23-3:9.

God formed man to be imperishable;

   the image of his own nature he made them.  Wisdom 2:23

If I ever get a tattoo, it will be from the Book of Wisdom, and it will read: "God did not make death" (1:13). Wisdom tells us that death entered the world through the devil, not through God. Death was a child of Satan's envy and malice. God intended our immortality. We were built for forever, and we sense that such is our destiny. We are right to be shocked by death, to dread it, to avoid it, to grieve it when it comes. We were not meant for death.
   But Christ restored our birthright. He is the just in the hand of God, and his perfect love restored us to eternity. I know all too well that when someone we love dies, it feels like destruction. But we are fools to think they are gone from us forever. Wisdom says to look for the day when those we thought to be dead will shine forth and dart about us as sparks through stubble.

-Jessica Mesman Griffith

As I read that I am "right to be shocked by death," to dread, avoid, and grieve it, I felt for the first time a sense of acceptance. Not an acceptance of death itself - not yet - but an acceptance of my fear. And through the freedom that accompanied that acceptance I was finally able to start loosening my stranglehold of denial, to start on the long path toward living in truth.

~~~

Unsurprisingly, my fear of death is closely tied to a long and intense battle with depression and anxiety. The last reflection I will share here originally struck me not so much as being about death, but about other dark struggles - loneliness, self-doubt, despair, etc.

The Little Way is often a little way of darkness. It's about accepting that we are to put up with ourselves - with all the darkness of our weakness, brokenness, and sin - without getting discouraged. It's recognizing, without giving up, that some struggles are chronic. It's realizing, without despairing, that they may be with us till our dying day. But it's also about realizing that this does not prevent us from becoming saints.

-Fr. Michael Gaitley, 33 Days to Merciful Love, Day 11

Again, the growth starts with acceptance. Allowing myself to accept that Christ may not take this cross from me - that this fear may be with me until I am forced to face it in the act of dying itself - has granted me some peace. In one of those paradoxes that the Christian life is so replete in, learning to accept my burden has lightened my load.

~~~

Barring a miracle, this isn't something I'll simply "work through" this Lent. However, I will continue to pray that someday I will be able to fully rejoice in the knowledge of Christ's victory over death.

7QT - Winter Doldrums Edition

A quick note before my 7QT: please take a moment to visit this Caring Bridge site. Fulton Francis, born Christmas Eve, is the son of a dear friend of mine. The doctors originally thought he had SCID (boy in the bubble syndrome) but have since ruled that out and are scratching their heads as to what is causing his many and varied symptoms. He and his loving parents are currently stuck in isolation in the hospital until they can figure it out. Fulton's parents have asked their family and friends to spread the site far and wide in the hopes of it coming to the attention of someone who might be able to help them find answers for their tiny, sick little boy. If you can think of anyone who might be able to provide extra insight, please pass it on!

1. Oh, February. Cold weather, runny noses, and a toddler literally bouncing off my walls have made for a long first week. This is our sixth cold in six months. It's hard to complain when everyone else I know has had some sort of flu or other terrible virus, but I think I can summon up the strength to complain at least a little.

I am a semi-crunchy mama and so I've been diffusing Four Thieves oil, cooking bone broth, adding extra onions and garlic to our dinners, and slathering the children in cold-busting lotions and salves. I've also upped the kiddos' vitamin C regimen, which has had the added benefit of solving the dry-weather induced constipation (sorry, TMI, I know. But seriously, HOW do you get a 2 year old to drink more water? Especially when his poor little nose is all stuffed up??)

2. The above mentioned lotions and salves are from Siena Soap company. Their products are amazing, all natural, and you can't beat the price for the quality. Owned and operated by a Catholic family, a portion of their profits goes to a local crisis pregnancy center.

Favorite products:

• Their facial serum is a perfect light moisturizer, and you really do only need a couple drops each day so it lasts for months.
• I cannot recommend the Cold Sore Destroyer lip balm enough. I get terrible cold sores when sick or stressed and this lip balm is the first topical product that has ever helped.
• The Breathe EO roller is a more potent version of the cold and sinus salve. The salve has the added benefit of healing chapped noses, but both products are effective and gentle enough to use on little ones.

(These aren't affiliate links, i just really love their stuff and want to spread the joy. Check out their Valentine's sale!)

3. Eric and I are in the middle of the third season of Detectorists. It's a perfect show for the cold, white months as the cinematography is gorgeous and green and gives me hope for warm days to come. My only gripe with this show is that the seasons are too short. Only six episodes per season, and only half hour episodes at that. We have two episodes left but are hesitant to finish because we're not ready for it to be over.

4. While I am attempting a little more each year to help our family live liturgically, I am naturally wired to really only have two seasons - Gardening Season, and Garden Planning Season. Long before the ground unfreezes I'm out there looking for any sign of growth, checking each branch for buds and under soggy old leaves for tiny spikes of green.

Garden Planning Season is in its full glory around here as I try to wait patiently for the snow to turn to stomping puddles. I put in several new varieties of perennial bulbs in the fall, so until I know what the gardens are going to look like in the height of summer, I am focusing on vegetables and annuals.

5. Here are a few pictures from last year's bounty:

6. I've already finished preparing our taxes, although I'm waiting on one last document before I file them. I've always enjoyed filing taxes (with the one notable exception of the year I ended up owing a couple thousand dollars...) and I look forward to it each January.

Last year we used our return to redo the bathroom and buy porch furniture. This year we had hoped to use it to install radiator covers on the main floor, but we had to replace our boiler unexpectedly instead. No fun house updates this year, just plain old boring heat.

7. There's nothing like a cute kiddism to add sunshine to a grey winter day, so I'll end with a few recent Sprout quotes.

When he's in costume he only answers to Superman, and often when he's in civilian clothing we're instructed to refer to him as Clark Kent (or Cyark Kent, because 'L's are hard.) The 1940's cartoon version is on Amazon and I think that's what Sprout's giving up for Lent - the new favorite game these days is "break things like Superman." From the Man himself:

"Can Superman watch himself on TV?"

"Mommy, can Superman come snuggle you?"

"Don't tell Jesus what I just ate." (It was uncooked rice, which he'd been scooping and pouring while i made dinner, and which he knew full well he wasn't supposed to eat. Should I be proud he knows that Jesus cares if he obeys, or worried that he's already trying to hide when he doesn't?)

That's all for now, folks. Check out more quick takes here.

049 and the Anti-Vaxxers

Conflict makes me very uncomfortable. This may surprise you given the title of this post. But since I currently have no followers and can't imagine too many people will stumble across this blog in the near future and yell at me in the comments, I figure if there's ever a time to dive into the deep waters of controversial mommy topics, it's now.

Since my first positive pregnancy test more than two years ago, I've been doing a lot of risk assessment. Bearing and raising children comes with many big decisions and each of those decisions - from deciding which prenatal to ingest to where the baby will sleep after they're born - comes with some degree of risk assessment. Will this supplement provide the essential amount of folic acid, and what will happen to my baby if it doesn't? Will I get any sleep with my baby in bed next to me? Will he suffocate if he's not in a crib? Will I survive this pregnancy if I don't ingest caffeine? Will my baby survive if I do?

With even small choices having the potential for negative consequences, there are many days when the burden of making decisions as a parent is a daunting, even terrifying, task. What if I screw this up and something terrible happens to my child? What if he gets sick, hurt, or even dies and I could have prevented it? Surely all I need is just a little more knowledge, a little more caution, a little less risk... and everything will be okay.

~~~

I was in a car accident with my two children a few days before Christmas. We were out running errands and while the forecast said "no snow", snow it did. The roads went from fine to terrible in about 20 minutes, a young driver spun out in front of me while merging onto the freeway, and I T-boned her driver side. It was my first "real," non-fender-bender accident, first time having the air bags deploy, first time with whiplash. The kids were fine, and although our only car was totaled we were grateful because it could have been so much worse. We were told by our insurance company that we'd need to replace the kids' car seats since, due to the collision, there was a risk that the plastic had been compromised. They would buy us new car seats but we had to trash the old ones or there would be liability issues.

While I was happy to have a new bucket seat (the handle got weirdly sticky while in storage between kids) I felt very uncomfortable with throwing out what seemed like a perfectly good toddler seat. It felt so wasteful. And yet, to use it again would mean risking my child's safety!

As a parent (or as a human for that matter) situations and questions arise on an almost daily basis that lead me to turn to the experts - to those who "know better" - to tell me what to do, how to proceed. Sometimes, as in the car seat example, I didn't ask a question, but was simply handed an imperative from on high. The data says This, the risks are These, so do That, and only That.

At times, such imperatives can take a load off my mind because sometimes it's nice to simply be told "this is the right way - do this and all will be well." But there are many more times when the advice, and even the imperatives, seem rather to impede, and even prohibit, one of my basic jobs as a parent - to make prudential judgments as to what's best for my family.

Our society seems to be telling us more and more to hand over responsibility to those who "know better." Between schools, doctors, and government agencies, not to mention the devastating wealth of information and opinions online, there seems to be an unending list of people who know better than I do how to parent my kids.

And because those who "know better" are increasingly in charge of providing rules and guidelines to not just a few, but all parents, the directions become much more black-and-white. Grey areas and prudential judgment are hard to regulate from on high, and so moderation and prudence are replaced with hard and fast rules, thus decreasing risks and limiting liability.

And so, I come closer to explaining the click-baity title of this post. Rather than advising mothers to exercise prudence and moderation when consuming alcoholic beverages when pregnant, we have a 049 movement. The rules for what you should and should not eat while pregnant seem to get stricter each year as more risks are discovered, and moms with severe morning sickness worry they're harming their babies by only eating what they can keep down. Because SIDS is terrifying and tragic we are told that no parent should ever put their infant to sleep on their stomach, even if it's the only way the baby (or parents) get any real sleep.

**Now, keep in mind my point is not that these are non-issues, but that it's our job as parents to assess risk and make prudential judgments as to what's best for our individual children and families.**

As parents, it can seem that we live increasingly in an environment of absolutes, of nevers, of never taking risks lest your child bear the brunt of your poor choices. And there's a moral tone to this environment. If you defy the experts you're not just a rebel or an independent thinker, you're a bad mom.

All this was swirling through my sleep deprived mind on the way to my Sweet Poppy's six month well child visit this week. When it struck me... the one exception to the risk avoiding, liability reducing rules, is vaccines.

Always vaccinate, despite the risks.

In fact, the risks are often dismissed or ignored because the benefits apparently nullify them. However, in this culture of extreme risk avoidance, is it any surprise that some parents choose to Never vaccinate because of the risks involved?

The Good Lord knows I am not looking for an argument (or even a discussion) about vaccines. I don't think I'll even reveal where I stand on that front. To quote a friend, I don't feel 100% comfortable either way, but as with the rest of parenting, at some point you just have to make a decision and accept the risks.

N.B.
Not to say that there aren't experts with kids, but when children are simply data points and there aren't real-life trade-offs to evaluate (e.g. first trimester puking vs. eating spinach and salmon) it stands to reason that the decisions become much more black and white.

Toddler Discipline - What I Didn't Know

The longer I parent (not long so far) the more I realize that I am in need of at least as much correction as my terribly terrific two year old. Little did I know before having children the amount of SELF-discipline it would take to set an example worth following.

  To respond rather than react.

  To stay calm in the face of turbulent emotions and tiny flying fists.

  To let go of irritation and angst the moment those little arms reach out for a hug of reconciliation.

  To maintain (or gain) an attitude of loving calm on the days when everyone is running on a few fractured hours of sleep.

  To say "I'm sorry" when I'm the one who shattered the fragile peace.

  To be willing and able to adapt as new stages and challenges present themselves.

My growing pains are keeping pace with the kids' - and so much depends on my willingness to learn and grow alongside them!

I've heard many times: if you wait until you're ready to have kids, you never will. And I am coming to understand the truth of those words more deeply as time goes by. If I had known the cost ahead of time - without also knowing the soft, snuggly, "yuv you too" rewards - how quick would I have been to say yes to this crazy, wonderful journey we're now on?

And the craziest part is that I never could have been ready - I need these tiny human flashlights to shine into the depths of my soul and show me the cracks and corners that I didn't even know existed, let alone how badly they were in need of scrubbing.

There's a grace in the not-knowing. In the trusting acceptance of new life. In saying yes, and then finding out that a sword will pierce your heart.

Thank God for grace, because those tiny fists are deceptively strong.

Joining In

I've been reading Quick Takes faithfully for several months now and have finally decided to take the plunge and join in. I thought I'd start with a few details about me, and we'll see where I go from there!

1. I was going to use the title "Type B Blogger" because I am very much not a type-A person and have often found myself discouraged by reading too many posts by people to whom I just can't relate. However, I googled "Type B" and the following dictionary definition came up:

Type B

noun

    1. a personality type characterized as easygoing and thought to have low susceptibility to stress.

Whelp. There goes that idea. I like to think of myself as easygoing, but several years of marriage and two children have forced me to confront the fact that I am actually a Very Particular Person. One who, alas, is really quite susceptible to stress. So. On to...

2. Why Joy in the Mid-Morning? Because I am searching for joy, and it seems to come easiest (for me) right after the coffee has gone to work, and before I've had to give too much thought to what's for lunch (let alone what's for dinner). 

3. If this were a first date here's what I'd tell you: I am married to a wonderful man (yes, I realize the first-date analogy falls apart pronto, but bear with me) and we have two beautiful children. We gave our kids nicnames in utero and those are the names I'll be using for them on the blog. Sprout is a rambunctious 2 and half year old boy who is currently obsessed with Superman and firetrucks. Poppy is a cheerful and gregarious little 6 month old girl with a dimple under her right eye that makes hearts melt.

I was an English major in college (I'll save how that came to be and why I wish it hadn't for the second date) and I feel a little nervous putting that out there because I overthink my writing and I'm afraid telling you about my English background will make you overthink my writing too.

I'm a cradle-Catholic, although something of a revert. (That story is many, many dates away, sorry.)

My hobbies include gardening, baking, rearranging the house, starting books, day-dreaming, and occasional sewing projects. I don't understand long walks on the beach; hikes through the forest are more my style.

4. I read #3 out-loud to my husband (because I was overthinking it) and he says I'd get a second date. Phew! 

5. My husband, Eric, and I have been married for 3.5 years and, while we are far from perfect, we are striving to live our vocation faithfully, whole-heartedly, and intentionally. So far we have renewed our vows 5 times. We are married right good. Tomorrow we will be attending our Archdiocesan Newly Married Retreat (for couples married 7 years or less) for the fourth year. This is our second year helping on the core team and it has been a wonderful and enriching experience for us so far.

Each year they ask couples in their seventh year of marriage to stand up and share a piece of wisdom from their many years of experience. Even though our turn won't come for another 3 years, I already planned out what I would like to say because speaking in front of a crowd makes me Very Nervous and so I'm trying to be as well prepared as possible. Here, 3 years early, is my marriage advice:

Be kind. Speak gently. Say thank you, even for things that are assumed, like dishes, laundry, and help with the bedtime routine.

Maybe in three years I'll be better at following my own advice :)

6. I read a lot of articles. Eric reads a lot of articles and often passes them on to me. I save many of these articles on a Pinterest board. If you are ever bored and want to read something Noteworthy, check out my "archives."

7. I am already terrible with time management so blogging may or may not be my thing. Poorly managed time will tell. Eric suggested I at least pursue it through Lent - hopefully more as a discipline than as a penance!

Visit This Ain't the Lyceum for more 7QT here.