It was one of those weeks. Everything was happening within the same seven days, and I didn’t know how I was going to get through it all. In addition to my family’s regular commitments, such as school, work, and errands, I had three deadlines to meet, parent-teacher conferences to attend, and a family party to prepare for. Oh, and two of my daughters and their teams were in volleyball playoff games. I am sure you can relate to the craziness…
As a little girl, I was always a little apprehensive about Halloween. I liked dressing up and feasting on candy, but some neighbors down the street created this haunted house experience in their front yard, and I wanted nothing to do with it. I don’t know if I just didn’t like feeling scared or if I actually sensed a type of evil in their decorations. What I do know is that it caused Halloween to be one of my least…
I am preparing for my annual silent retreat weekend, and I have been thinking about my past retreat experiences. Sometimes I doubt that they are doing any good. Have I really grown spiritually in the past 2, 4, 6 years? I know that discouragement can be normal in the spiritual life, which is why I’m trying not to pay too much attention to the nagging voice. Still, as I reflect back on the post I wrote for CatholicMom.com three years…
It is 8 AM. I walk into my quiet house, and I stand in the kitchen. Breakfast dishes are piled next to the sink, waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher. The stools around the kitchen island are pushed out, a reminder of the people sitting on them an hour ago. I can hear the hum of the refrigerator; I can hear my own footsteps. When is my house ever this still? With no one around, I wonder what I…
This was first posted on March 2, 2015. It some ways it surprises me that this is still so applicable to my life, and in other ways, it does not surprise me at all. Life is funny that way. Our struggle—our cross—may take a lifetime of carrying, and yet how often do I just wait for it to disappear? Sure, our cross might look differently from year to year, decade to decade, but often it is the one way God has invited us…
For as long as I can remember, December 13 has been an extra-special day in our family. It is the Feast of St. Lucia, which is my daughter’s name-day. She has loved this day and the saint we celebrate ever since she could grasp its specialness. We have cinnamon rolls for breakfast and read a favorite book about St. Lucy. Since her birthday is in the summer, she usually brings treats into school on this day. But six years ago, a…
If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. (1 Corinthians 12:26) My daughter tends to go with the flow. She cheers on her sister at volleyball games, plays cars with her little brother, and helps out in the kitchen. She is pretty low key, not demanding a lot of extra attention. She does receive extra time and attention because of her Dyslexia, though—tutoring twice per week, help with homework, comforting when her…
When my daughter was in Kindergarten, she often cried in the mornings, and I didn’t understand why she dreaded going to school. From my perspective, Kindergarten was fun, creative, and colorful. What could possibly induce tears? Because I didn’t understand what my daughter was feeling, I often got frustrated with her. Her overwhelming emotions added stress to an already-busy morning routine. I had to walk her into the building, when her friends were walking into school independently. She clung to…
Today’s post was first published on CatholicMom.com. Looking back on her preschool years, I now recognize the early warning signs, such as difficulty hearing rhyming words, like cat, hat, and mat. Throughout Kindergarten, I saw her struggling, but I wasn’t worried, until I started receiving notes from her teacher that she falling behind. In Kindergarten? Really? No amount of phonetic worksheets would catch her up, though. Nor would a repeat of Kindergarten. You see, my daughter has Dyslexia. She is the one…
Since June, I have sat in on most of my daughter’s tutoring sessions. To think back to her first few sessions and how she struggled still breaks my heart. But observing her has increased my compassion for how truly difficult reading is for her, as if I can feel her pain now more than ever. It also has taught me how I can support her. As I reflect back, I also see the progress she has made. To witness her breakthroughs and pure successes, I am so very proud…