Seasons Change

When Paul and I were first married, I never had any interest in staying home on a Friday night. In fact, when Friday rolled around, I found being at home after 7 pm. to be downright depressing.

Some Fridays, as we headed out of our neighborhood to grab dinner or meet up with friends, I took note of all the cars in driveways and wondered why everyone wasn’t out and about.

“They’re all just stuck at home on a Friday night,” I’d tell Paul as we drove down the road, feeling genuinely sad for these people, my poor housebound neighbors.

“That’s what most people do,” Paul would tell me. But I knew that couldn’t be right. Certainly most people were not just sitting around at home on a Friday – and if they were, then not by choice. There was so much more fun waiting to be had!

Fast forward to last Friday night, which was like many Friday nights in recent years. On the way home from work, Paul stopped at the local specialty grocers to grab some of our favorite foods – crab dip, mozzarella cheese, stuffed mushrooms. These days we set the boys up with pizza and then eat what we like. Some weeks we gather as a family in the front room and watch a movie or play a game.

A few weeks ago, we decided to play charades. We put the answers on slips of paper, using favorite heroes and sports and other activities (things the boys are familiar with) and acted them out. We played round after round, laughter filling the house as we shouted out the answers. It was some of the most fun we’ve had as a family – and I didn’t even mind that I had to act out things like Frodo Baggins and lightsaber and Chuck Norris. (My few female-friendly categories were met with underwhelming support.)

This past Friday, the boys watched a movie while Paul and I sat in the dining room. As we enjoyed our feast by candlelight, I was reminded of my old attitudes, how I was so unnerved by the notion of being stuck at home on a Friday night. What a different season we are now in – what a change of heart in me!

Here I was, at home. And not only home, but home by choice. In fact, I have started to fiercely guard these Friday evenings together at home. I look forward to an evening with nowhere to go, and nothing to do but be together as a family.

As our boys sat together in the front room and I sat and talked with my husband, I could think of nowhere else on earth I would rather be at that moment than in the presence of my little family.

With Advent season upon us, I am a bit preoccupied with all there is to do to prepare for Christmas. I start to worry that all the “practical” preparations will rob me of the time I need to prepare spiritually. And then I remember – God is here, in the midst of it all. If I ask him, he can change my heart. He can help me slow down enough to recognize his presence and bask in it.

“They rejoice in your presence,” says the book of Isaiah, “as those who rejoice at harvest,as warriors exult when dividing spoil.”

As we work so hard to find the presence of God in the midst of the fervor of the season, may we find redemption and hope in the quiet moments of life. And may God continue to change our hearts and minds so that we are open to finding him, in all the places he may be.

One boy, so many facets

What an evening.

Dreaming of a Greenleaf Christmas

...and five golden rings, to rule them all!

Thanksgiving Fun

Riding in the car is always very enlightening.

Worth It

One year ago today, we told the boys we were having another baby.

I had been marginally bleck for a few days, was suspicious but decided not to do anything official until after Thanksgiving. So we waited until after, confirmed what I knew to be true, and then told the boys. The boys immediately ran next door to their Gramma and Papa's house and told them. And Gramma and Papa immediately ran outside and across the lawn to where I was sitting, watching Paul shoot hoops. They were smiling and laughing and thoroughly overjoyed. We all were.

Henry, you have been loved since the minute we knew you were.

My utter and complete happiness lasted about a week. Then the hormones kicked in and I felt the urge to throw up -- for the next ten weeks. I spent all of Advent, Christmas and well into the New Year reminding myself how happy we were, willing myself to put one foot in front of the other. "You are happy," I said to myself. "Really. You are." The hormones were ruthless and tough, and they left me feeling sick. They also left me feeling sad and defeated and annoyed with myself.

"Why did I get myself into this situation," I said on more than one occasion. Because while I knew this was going to be wonderful, this whole "having another baby" seemed way harder than I remembered. Here I was, five years from the last baby, quite unsure how I had arrived at the conclusion that being willing to have another baby was a good thing. Things were so perfect the way they were, I moaned. What were you thinking?

And before I start going down that path -- the path of remembering the hormonally-fueled doubts, I want to just stop. The truth is that it was a terribly difficult, long and trying road. And we made it.

And it was worth it.

It was a long, emotional pregnancy. I remember feeling sick and sad and tired and defeated. All the time. But so many people were so quick to celebrate with me and encourage me and tell me I'd make it through. They reminded me to blame those hormones -- and not myself.

I don't want to say that I think every single couple on the face of the earth should stop what they're doing to have another baby. I don't think everyone is called to that. But I do want to say this: that tugging on my heart, the one I heard and contemplated and discerned with Paul for so many months -- I'm glad I did that. I'm glad that God somehow gave me the grace I needed to be open to the idea of another baby Balducci.

Our precious Henry is here. How did we ever manage without him?

What Makes Our Country Great!

Elliott: Ethan, in Wyoming they have mustaches as big as this desk.

Why we love summer so!

Another reason summertime is the best time.

Thankful

The days before we had all these boys were indeed special days. They were filled with mountain biking and day trips and staying up and sleeping in. Those days included small cars that were not filled with melted crayons and discarded candy wrappers and last week’s homework. Ah yes, small, quiet, clean little cars.

Our Catholic Faith: All Inclusive

"Dear Saint Anthony," I hear Augie pray, "please help me find my... stretchy rubber cockroach."

(It worked!)

Dark Master

I tell myself I'm going to start exercising. Every day. I've started back swimming a few mornings a week, getting up early and going with a good friend. We treasure this time together, and the added benefit of a good workout.

But I have not started back with the weight lifiting. And I'm not sleeping well. Even as Henry is sleeping better and better, my body is still in the habit of waking up, wide awake, between 3 and 4 a.m. Nearly every morning. I lay in the bed and wait for Henry to cry out to me. But he doesn't. He has become a good little sleeper, but I'm just as tired as when he wasn't.

Today is the day, I tell myself. But then I forget. And then, the house is quiet. Henry is napping and the big boys are playing basketball with Paul. I remember about the weights, but decide I'll eat some chocolate instead. I'm addicted to those Dove Promises, the bite-size dark chocolates with the pithy messages inscribed on the foil.

I go into the pantry and reach up to the top shelf. I keep the chocolates hidden behind the saltines, where no one will ever find them. I tear into my treat.

"Keep the promises you make to yourself," it lectures.

I devour the chocolate. Then I go look for my dumbbells.

Helping Me Chill

One of the greatest challenges of having boys, as a woman, is to avoid freaking out on a regular basis.

It's tough being so manly

Boy, heading off to the shower: Even my muscles have muscles.

Humility Built-Ins

There is a limit to the art I will encourage.

Moment of Clarity

It was the Times Square of swimming pools, and my only consolation was that at least the water would be less populated.

Good Report

Tonight my mom agreed to watch the boys so Paul and I could go together to Report Card Pickup at school. Tonight was our first report card night with all four big boys in the elementary. That was a nice feeling because although I started to worry we'd be in the elementary wing of our school until the end of time, I also realized that since we had such high representation, there would most likely be a teacher free in at least one classroom at any given time.

Throughout our evening, as we quickly moved in and out of each classroom, I was reminded again of how much I love my husband. Having all these boys has indeed given me a greater appreciation for him, in large part these days because I am quick to refer my children to their father on any number of issues. He knows where they are coming from. I, often times, do not.

As we spoke with each teacher about how each boy is doing, I was encouraged and proud. I'm proud of how well my sons are doing in school, how hard they work. They are not perfect, not to worry. But they are so very good. The one boy who was literally climbing the walls in the bathroom one recent day? He's no longer doing that sort of thing! Progress!

I'm proud, too, of my husband. It's clear, on an evening like tonight, the important role he plays in the formation of our boys. I know I'm crucial in all this of course. But there are so many times when an encouraging word from dad, or a strong exhortation, is all it takes to turn the tide of behavior. And I love that I'm married to a man who recognizes the importance of his relationship with his boys, and who takes it seriously.

But just as important is that he helps me not take it all too seriously. One of the greatest challenges of having boys, as a woman, is to avoid freaking out on a regular basis. Paul helps me chill out. And that, I think, is among his most important contributions to this family.

Shopping List

I shop at the Mega-Mart when I want:

• crunchy granola bars, sold in quantities of Enough for a Small European Nation
• a half-gallon bottle of shampoo for $1.07
• a fifty-pack of diapers, enough to last all day!
• a bucket of vanilla ice-cream; I can use the container for a wading pool when we're done
• a headache
• one platinum blonde mullet wig. This last item made it totally worth the trip to the Mega-Mart and the 30-minute wait in line next to the couple who each stood in a separate line waiting for the quickest one and then got annoyed with me when I failed to understand that Yes they were together and Yes they'd be each standing in a line! This mullet wig made all that worth it; and I even got if for half-price.

Henry's Life

Some kids have the Lamaze toys; Henry has this.

Asking the Tough Questions

Elliott: Augie, did anyone cry today at school?

The Difference Between My World and Yours

This would have never crossed my mind.

Thankful

The things that are most important are seldom things at all.