Friday, October 10, 2008
A Tooth!
I forgot to mention that Caleb finally has his first tooth - his bottom right. It finally came through a few weeks ago and I've been terrible about posting about it. I don't have a good picture though. He doesn't like to keep his mouth open long enough for me to snap one, but I'll send one along if I can. Just thought you might want to know!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
The Invisible Mother
A wonderful friend passed this along to me via email and thought it was too good not to share. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did:
The Invisible Mother……
It all began to make sense; the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, “Can’t you see I’m on the phone?” Obviously not. No one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands, or even a human being. I’m a clock to ask “What time is it?” or a satellite guide to answer “What number is the Disney Channel?”
One night a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janet had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all “put together” so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janet turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package and said “I brought you this.” It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: “To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.”
In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I would pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, “Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.” And the workman replied, “Because God sees.”
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, “I see you Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’re sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.”
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the anecdote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don’t want my daughter to tell the friend she’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, “My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.” That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, she’d add “you’re gonna love it there.”
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great job MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know….I just did.
Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does. We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our perseverance.
The Invisible Mother……
It all began to make sense; the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I’m on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I’m thinking, “Can’t you see I’m on the phone?” Obviously not. No one can see if I’m on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I’m invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I’m not a pair of hands, or even a human being. I’m a clock to ask “What time is it?” or a satellite guide to answer “What number is the Disney Channel?”
One night a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janet had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all “put together” so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janet turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package and said “I brought you this.” It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn’t exactly sure why she’d given it to me until I read her inscription: “To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.”
In the days ahead I would read – no, devour – the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I would pattern my work:
No one can say who built the great cathedrals – we have no record of their names.
These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, “Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.” And the workman replied, “Because God sees.”
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, “I see you Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you’ve done, no sequin you’re sewn on, no cupcake you’ve baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can’t see right now what it will become.”
At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the anecdote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don’t want my daughter to tell the friend she’s bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, “My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.” That would mean I’d built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want her to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to her friend, she’d add “you’re gonna love it there.”
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot see if we’re doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
Great job MOM!
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know….I just did.
Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does. We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our perseverance.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Cows, Cake and Cubs
On Saturday morning we hit the Fall Harvest Festival out at the Interstate Center. If for nothing else, it was free - you can't beat that! And it was an absolutely beautiful fall day to be out enjoying the weather. I think Caleb enjoyed his time outside too. He got to pet a cow, a goat and some sheep, listen to a Dixie Land Band, watch the balloon animal guy and just people watch (which he loves). So it was a success!
Then on Saturday night, we decided that we needed to get out of the house. So after perusing our gift certificate/coupon drawer, we decided that a Krispy Kreme donut would probably make our evening better. Someday Caleb is going to realize that we're crazy - but for now, he still thinks we're funny.
And then it was 9pm, and it was time for Gabe to watch the Cubbies. I had lamented all afternoon that I had wished the time of the Cubs game and the time of the Illini game has been switched, because I wanted to take a nap in the afternoon (which would have been perfect for sleeping through a NLDS game including the Cubbies). Oh well.
I went to bed at 11:15 and had just about fallen into a blissful sleep, when I heard our neighbor's front door open and someone yell what I thought was something about the cops. Apparently I need to get my ears checked, because he was in fact, yelling about the Cubs. They had lost (are we surprised, really?). Then shortly after the yelling.... out on the roof there rose such a clatter, I sprung from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash....Actually, I very groggily flipped open the blinds to make sure the noise wasn't something hitting our car. Apparently, being a Cubs fan can cause a bit of rage. Our neighbor, in his distress about the Cubs' loss, kicked one of the pillars completely down that is holding the porch roof up. As if the stupidity hadn't already hit climax, I then hear one of his friends say "no big deal, dude, all you need is a car jack and a two by four". Clearly.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Confused . . .
Someone has to help me with this. Okay, so I packed up the kid and headed to the store (it's the 30th - wa-hoo!). My first stop was Aldi to stock up on as much as I can to save my pennies. Put Caleb in the cart and started shopping. About half-way through my very delightful perusing, a guy comes by with his kid and says "hey, look at that baby, isn't she cute". Okay, I tell myself, not a big deal. He wasn't talking to me directly so I'm not going to correct him. I'm just going to keep pushing my cart and move on with my shopping. But then, as I go to check out, the lady at the check out counter says, "Oh cute kid, how old is she?" What? Really? I very politely said "Oh, he's almost 10 months" and left it at that. Usually people suddenly get less chatty when you underhandingly (that's probably not a word) tell them they are wrong.
But here is the thing that gets me. I generally make it rule to not dress Caleb in gender-neutral outfits, especially when we go out where there will be people who might make comments. Today, he was dressed in blue pants, little white socks and a blue and green striped onesie with a frog on it. Now granted, the blue and green are "baby blue" and "baby green", but dare I say, he's a baby. I just don't understand it - maybe I need to put a baseball cap on him or something!
But here is the thing that gets me. I generally make it rule to not dress Caleb in gender-neutral outfits, especially when we go out where there will be people who might make comments. Today, he was dressed in blue pants, little white socks and a blue and green striped onesie with a frog on it. Now granted, the blue and green are "baby blue" and "baby green", but dare I say, he's a baby. I just don't understand it - maybe I need to put a baseball cap on him or something!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Fun in a Box
For all of those moms out there who are finding that their babies are bored with their toys, get yourself a diaper box. Fold the edges in, put your kid inside and give him a few blocks....wa-lah! Hours and hours of fun. Caleb sat in this box last night for at least 45 minutes. And when we took him out, he played with it for another 30, putting toys in and out. He also likes it when we slide him around on the carpet like he's in his own little sled - he just giggles and giggles.
Oh look, he found a friend.
Oh look, he found a friend.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
A Visit to Highland
Just a few pics from the weekend...
Apparently someone told them it was bedtime.
Thanks for the great blocks Aunt Amy!
The silver one makes the best noise!
Apparently someone told them it was bedtime.
Thanks for the great blocks Aunt Amy!
The silver one makes the best noise!
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