The Living Dead

Chugga-chugga, chugga-chugga, chooo! CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  I'm needing to let off a little steam.  It's been one of those mornings.  Luke was in a particularly sour mood and it doesn't help that both him and I are getting over a minor case of the sniffles.  His appetite has been non-existent and he even refuses his beloved milk.  Add in a dose of jealousy whenever I have Augustine in my arms and rasping, drooly, snotified weeping for some reason he can't even remember.  I did manage to get a few bites of food shimmied down his esophagus, a few books featuring green sheep, a scholarly mouse, and Tomie dePaolo's Poems read, and settled him down for a nap with some relaxing music and a soothing massage.  Then, of course, I started in on my daily dose of laundry only to discover that half way through the cycle I forgot to add the detergent...an awkward snort escaped from my lungs as a discombobulated combination of a cough, sigh and laugh.

In order to relieve some pressure and distract the depressant hormones I decided to ramble a bit and share some cute pictures before engaging in my workout which will sweat out the remaining nasty.

Because Augustine's Baptism and luncheon to celebrate conflicted with our neighborhood trick or treat time we teamed up with the other Schafer boys to tromps around their Grandma Wolverton's neighborhood.  With all the commotion of the week (my brother Stephen and Sarah's wedding and Augustine's baptism) I, regrettably, did not have time to manufacture clever, homemade costumes which I hope to do in the future and so extend my gratitude to Debbie and Anita for outfitting my boys for the Halloween festivities.

What have you done to me?

Mommy Lion Fish

 

Some of the Schafer boys

Furthermore, the challenging a.m. coincidentally increases my prayer time.  Lord, give me strength and patience.  Keep my voice calm and my hands tender so that I may be compassionate and loving in times of trial.  

Inspiration and hope soon leak in as I call to mind many I know that have conquered the housewife crusade.  In particular this week I remember my grandmother Barbara Taylor.  Grandma Taylor is my only grandparent that is deceased and I remembered her fondly this week as we celebrated All Saints' and All Souls' day.  The communion of saints is a glorious belief that I have only come to understand more fully in the recent past. 

As I watched my own mother floss her teeth during our Saturday visit the vivid memories of my grandmother with floss dangling from her teeth, her weathered hands grasping the tops of our heads as we paraded through the threshold, the no-questions-asked tone of "Eat your apple.", and the rosary tangled around her knotted knuckles in the pew in front of us at church inundated my mind.   Barbara raised ten kids of her own (4 boys and 6 girls (including my mother who is a twin- I mean, my mom alone would be trying but add in another with identical genetics-YIKES  ;-)  !!!!) And had upwards of 30 grandchildren before she died in July of 2005.

I certainly have moments where my grandmother's presence is unmistakeable even though her feet no longer connect with the earth.  It is amazingly comforting and fortifying knowing our prayers are united with countless, holy people both living and dead.  All of us are called to holiness whether we are St. John of the Cross,  Blessed JPII,  or Joe Schmo that sat in the last seat of the third row in your third grade class.

To celebrate the holy day of obligation,the Solemnity of All Saints, on November 1st,  Luke, Augustine, Grandma Schafer and I joined Pete and the student body for Mass at Archbishop Hoban High School. The female faculty and staff went GaGa over the two little ones as did many of Pete's students who had only seen digital proof of their existence up to that point.  After Mass we had a smidgen of time to explore daddy's classroom and snap a few non-traditional school photos.

All Saints...Pra-ay for us!

Class at Hoban

Front of the class

Telling secrets during the lecture

We've been caught!