Tomorrow will be a week since we found out we lost Gabriel, and Friday will be a week since his delivery. I wanted to update you all on a few things and then comment on the direction of this blog afterwards.
* We are still working out the details of his burial, but those are starting to fall into place too. His little baby casket is being delivered on Friday. It is appropriate for his size instead of the one we could buy at the mortuary that is for a fully-developed baby. I feel happier knowing he will be resting in something that is a little more cozy. I don't know why.
* I am healing very well and have had absolutely no complications, thanks be to God.
*Whether he likes it or not, Gabriel is in charge of praying for pregnant moms, and for husband and wives hoping to be pregnant. This is the case for several reasons: 1) We have full confidence in the mercy of God, and that Gabriel is in Heaven. That being the case, and being not bound by time, he has lots of opportunities to pray for people. So that's what he's doing, and I don't want him to feel bored, so he has an assignment. 2) In salvation history, the archangel Gabriel announced to the Virgin Mary that she was to conceive and bear a son: Jesus Christ. Since St. Gabriel is our little Gabriel's patron saint, I thought it would be appropriate if Gabriel pray for couples hoping to conceive and receive announcements of their own of an upcoming baby. 3) Praying for couples hoping to conceive (and of course that those babies be kept safe in their mother's wombs!) is something our family has done for years. So while we pray for those intentions during each Mass and before each bedtime, Gabriel is keeping up with our family tradition. 4) I'm still Gabriel's mom and that's the assignment I've given him so I know he'll do it.
* Michael and Matthew are keeping me busy and keeping me laughing. They also have been unusually sweet and obedient lately. I think our little intercessor is doing a good job. Seeing Mumma and Papa, and Grammy and Poppi over the past few days I am sure didn't bother them a bit either.
*At the last update, we still hadn't taken Gabriel to the mortuary. On Saturday morning, Fr. Michael met us at the Church and drove with us, spoke to the people there with us, and then joined us for lunch afterwards. All of this on the day before Easter when the Church was bustling preparing for one of the busiest weekends of the year. He also kept Gabriel with him from Friday to Saturday, lit a candle for him, prayed a Rosary for him, and kept him next to him while he worked on his Easter homily. When we saw him Saturday morning, Fr. Michael had put the container (the mortuary told us we needed to put Gabriel's remains in a plastic container for them to be able to receive him...it felt a little dehumanizing shuffling through my Tupperware drawer and I still hate the sight of Tupperware). We did our best to add a little dignity to the situation: We wrapped Gabriel's body in a little blanket, and placed him in the container, and then wrapped the container in a baby blanket.
But when we saw Fr. Michael on Saturday, he had put the container in a small, beautiful, wooden chest. Placed a Rosary and a crucifix in the chest, and then gave him a leather-bound New Testament to go with him on top of the chest. He said, since he was a Barber, he would have to study the Bible. Fr. Michael is amazing and though he was already very dear to our family, we will never be able to articulate the depth of gratitude and love we have for him and how supportive he was in this time. He is a truly compassionate man and an amazing priest.
* We are still going through our times of grief, but the raw emotion of it all is subsiding and we are settling into our new reality.
This brings me to my comment about the direction of this blog. It is hard for me to make a transition from the events of the past week, to going back and posting about the silly antics of Matthew and MIchael. I feel like if I spend all my time hashing and rehashing the events of this week, it will not be healthy. I don't even really have anything new to add to what I have said. Our grief is still present and we still talk about it everyday, but this stage of the process is not really suitable for public display, but finds its appropriate place in the quiet of personal conversation.
So, torn between just moving on and posting silly things again, as if I am forgetting about Gabriel on the one hand, and no longer posting silly things because they might make someone think we are forgetting about what happened and not giving its fully gravity on the other...I feel like I am going to continue to move the blog forward in the same tone you would find us if you visited our home. You will find two crazy boys who do crazy things and say funny things and have their funny little way about them; and you will find a mom and a dad who can still stop and laugh and enjoy and be silly with them and each other. But if you visited, you will still also find us talking about Gabriel, about what's new with preparing for his burial, about how we are doing, etc. But we are also not solely focused on that because life keeps going forward.
In the next few days, expect a post about Michael and Matthew and back to the day to day functions of the house. And if I remember to charge my camera and look for the cable to put the pictures into my computer, I may even spoil you with a few shots of their goofiness. And maybe a few days after that, you can expect another post on how things are going preparing for laying Gabriel's body to rest. I don't know what I'll be in the mood for writing.
I just wanted to ease myself (and my loyal band of readers...whoever you are, and you MUST be loyal after all the hiatuses I have taken!) back into life as we know it, Michael, Matthew, Gabriel and all.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Saturday, April 23, 2011
"It is finished"
The Barber family has lived out its Good Friday.
Little Gabriel Barber was born, whole, perfectly in tact, lifeless, yet beautiful at home today.
I labored with contractions for a few hours until 11am and then quickly and painlessly delivered our little baby boy (we're pretty sure it was a boy, but he was so small and delicate, we couldn't look very close to investigate. Michael believes he saw boy parts...but even if we are mistaken, Gabriel can be a girl's name too). We wrapped him in a blue towel and laid him in our room.
Fr. Michael, our parish priest, one of the most wonderful priests we could ever know, helped us make arrangements with the local mortuary who will hold his body until we are able to make arrangements for a small burial. We are hoping to bury him where we already have family. Even though we know his soul is no longer with his body, we feel comfort by him not being in a cemetery all alone.
Seriously, the goodness, compassion and love we received from Fr. Michael and the woman in charge of bereavement at our parish, Blanquita, could not be overstated. Fr. Michael, on Good Friday, one of the busiest times of the year for a priest, made the necessary phone calls with the funeral home on our behalf, knowing he would have an easier time getting through than we would.
Since I had to go to the hospital due to having more bleeding after the delivery than my doctor would have liked, we could not bring him to the funeral home before 4:30pm. By that time, they had already closed. When she couldn't get through by phone, Blanquita dropped what she was doing and drove over to the home in person to see if they were still open.
We couldn't bring Gabriel to the mortuary today, so Fr. Michael prayed with us, blessed the baby, and took him to the rectory so we would know he was in a safe place, but so we wouldn't have the emotional hardship of having him home. He said he will light a candle for him tonight and keep vigil for us until tomorrow, when again, he will drop his plans for however long needed, and go with us to take Gabriel to the mortuary for safekeeping.
Fr. Peter, Michael's uncle, was also supporting us all day through his constant prayer and his immediate answer to our questions, despite his busy Good Friday schedule.
Of course, our siblings and our parents were a constant source of love and strength. We deeply appreciate their help watching the kids, making plans to be with us for appointments next week, phone calls, messages, and of course their constant prayer.
We also thank my grandparents as well for their prayer and for GG's phone calls in the midst of all this to show love and support. Especially since GG knows the pain of delivering a baby who was not alive.
Little Gabriel is so loved by not only his parents and his brothers, but by his whole family and those in the broader family of our Church.
We are so grateful to God for a peaceful and uneventful delivery. Under the circumstances, things could not have gone more smoothly for us. We love and miss our little baby and our day has been punctuated by moments of sorrow when we think about what it would have been like to have him join our other boys' crazy little clan. We were full of sadness as we drove him to the Church to give him to Fr. Michael knowing this would be the last car ride with him. We are constantly reminded that we are no longer preparing for his coming in October as we have been accustomed to doing for the past 3 months.
Gabriel had to do nothing to earn our love. He didn't have to coo or smile, or having a great birth, or grab our finger or anything. He just simply had to exist in order to have our complete love, which he had since the day we knew I was pregnant. He was loved so very, very much and we will never forget our little one in Heaven waiting for us to be with him. It is a beautiful reminder of God's love for us: unearned and freely given. He loves us simply because we exist and because we are His children.
Lastly, we are so grateful this happened on Good Friday. The day to unite our suffering with our Lord. The day when we have the company of Mary who also buried her Son on this day. It was the perfect day to reflect on death, and the hope of new life. It was the perfect day to know God is with us in our suffering.
It has been a whirlwind. Exactly 24 hours after we found out he was no longer alive, I gave birth to him. This is not how we expected this week to go. But its swiftness has been a blessing, and God has given us the grace to grieve together for him, and to look on our little boys that are healthy and alive with such deep love and appreciation, knowing in a real way how very fragile life is.
"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away...blessed be the Lord!" (Job 1:21).
Little Gabriel Barber was born, whole, perfectly in tact, lifeless, yet beautiful at home today.
I labored with contractions for a few hours until 11am and then quickly and painlessly delivered our little baby boy (we're pretty sure it was a boy, but he was so small and delicate, we couldn't look very close to investigate. Michael believes he saw boy parts...but even if we are mistaken, Gabriel can be a girl's name too). We wrapped him in a blue towel and laid him in our room.
Fr. Michael, our parish priest, one of the most wonderful priests we could ever know, helped us make arrangements with the local mortuary who will hold his body until we are able to make arrangements for a small burial. We are hoping to bury him where we already have family. Even though we know his soul is no longer with his body, we feel comfort by him not being in a cemetery all alone.
Seriously, the goodness, compassion and love we received from Fr. Michael and the woman in charge of bereavement at our parish, Blanquita, could not be overstated. Fr. Michael, on Good Friday, one of the busiest times of the year for a priest, made the necessary phone calls with the funeral home on our behalf, knowing he would have an easier time getting through than we would.
Since I had to go to the hospital due to having more bleeding after the delivery than my doctor would have liked, we could not bring him to the funeral home before 4:30pm. By that time, they had already closed. When she couldn't get through by phone, Blanquita dropped what she was doing and drove over to the home in person to see if they were still open.
We couldn't bring Gabriel to the mortuary today, so Fr. Michael prayed with us, blessed the baby, and took him to the rectory so we would know he was in a safe place, but so we wouldn't have the emotional hardship of having him home. He said he will light a candle for him tonight and keep vigil for us until tomorrow, when again, he will drop his plans for however long needed, and go with us to take Gabriel to the mortuary for safekeeping.
Fr. Peter, Michael's uncle, was also supporting us all day through his constant prayer and his immediate answer to our questions, despite his busy Good Friday schedule.
Of course, our siblings and our parents were a constant source of love and strength. We deeply appreciate their help watching the kids, making plans to be with us for appointments next week, phone calls, messages, and of course their constant prayer.
We also thank my grandparents as well for their prayer and for GG's phone calls in the midst of all this to show love and support. Especially since GG knows the pain of delivering a baby who was not alive.
Little Gabriel is so loved by not only his parents and his brothers, but by his whole family and those in the broader family of our Church.
We are so grateful to God for a peaceful and uneventful delivery. Under the circumstances, things could not have gone more smoothly for us. We love and miss our little baby and our day has been punctuated by moments of sorrow when we think about what it would have been like to have him join our other boys' crazy little clan. We were full of sadness as we drove him to the Church to give him to Fr. Michael knowing this would be the last car ride with him. We are constantly reminded that we are no longer preparing for his coming in October as we have been accustomed to doing for the past 3 months.
Gabriel had to do nothing to earn our love. He didn't have to coo or smile, or having a great birth, or grab our finger or anything. He just simply had to exist in order to have our complete love, which he had since the day we knew I was pregnant. He was loved so very, very much and we will never forget our little one in Heaven waiting for us to be with him. It is a beautiful reminder of God's love for us: unearned and freely given. He loves us simply because we exist and because we are His children.
Lastly, we are so grateful this happened on Good Friday. The day to unite our suffering with our Lord. The day when we have the company of Mary who also buried her Son on this day. It was the perfect day to reflect on death, and the hope of new life. It was the perfect day to know God is with us in our suffering.
It has been a whirlwind. Exactly 24 hours after we found out he was no longer alive, I gave birth to him. This is not how we expected this week to go. But its swiftness has been a blessing, and God has given us the grace to grieve together for him, and to look on our little boys that are healthy and alive with such deep love and appreciation, knowing in a real way how very fragile life is.
"The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away...blessed be the Lord!" (Job 1:21).
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The God who can do something...but doesn't
Today I went hopefully to my 14 week ultrasound, looking forward to seeing our third baby squirming, kicking, sucking thumbs and waving at the camera. Our second glimpse at the baby... the first was 7 weeks ago, we saw him/her with a fluttering heart, a peanut-like shape, but a clearly identifiable head and body. It was already a cutie. After finishing a rough trimester of sickness and exhaustion, about to enter the "glory days" of pregnancy, finding a doctor who would let me do a VBAC and not another c-section, things were looking up and this appointment was going to be almost as exciting as the one next month when we would find out if were were having a boy or a girl.
Instead of all this, we saw a baby, 12 weeks in size, lying still and lifeless on his/her side, looking at us quietly. A minute passed, the doctor scrutinized the screen, moved the ultrasound wand looking for a heart that wouldn't beat. Everything was silent and it stayed that way for the rest of the visit. Using the internal ultrasound produced the same results. A lifeless little baby with a heart that had stopped beating two weeks ago.
Today, I went to Holy Thursday Mass. Still carrying the baby, but I sensed vacancy and emptiness even though his/her body was still there. I received communion. I thought about Jairus' daughter who was so clearly dead but Jesus, almost non-chalantly said, "She's just sleeping" and brought her back to life (as if that were a really easy mistake to make). Or Peter who healed Tabitha...Peter, whose power comes from Christ, the same Christ I just received in communion. I thought, "Lord, if this baby comes to back to life and it's a girl, we'll name her Tabitha! Wouldn't that be an amazing story to tell! Her very name will be a way to spread the glory of God." And if it's a boy, we'll name him Lazarus! Or maybe, just his middle name...Lazarus as a first name is kind of weird. But a middle name will still get the point across. Lazarus, the man dead for days and Jesus brought him back from the dead! The same Jesus I just received in communion! The very same person! I believe He is the same! No less powerful, no less capable of miracles! How can Jesus get any closer to touch my baby's body than receiving communion?
At the procession of the Blessed Sacrament, the priest passed us by, carrying the Eucharist. He passed us right by, like Peter's shadow healing the people in Acts...people were healed..because of Peter! But someone greater than Peter is here, passing by, and not just his shadow, but His real presence!
Lord! You can do it! It would be so cool! What a neat story! What makes these people, Tabitha, Lazarus, Jairus' daughter more important than my baby? My baby can grow to spread the gospel too..He or she can give you glory. He or she can make a difference! You can do it!
Yes, He can.
But Holy Thursday never ends without seamlessly flowing into Good Friday. Good Friday the day when Jesus' power, his ability, his resolve and purpose are put to the test. "Get down from the cross." He can! But He doesn't...yet. "Save yourself and us" He can! But He doesn't...yet. God can do all these things, He can bring this baby back to life, He can perform any miracle and answer any and every person who petitions Him for His display of power. But sometimes He does and sometimes He doesn't...yet.
And though I want to hold it against him for letting some live or some walk, or some see...but not everyone, how can I when He withheld His miraculous demonstration of strength and power even from Himself?
I'm running off to the bathroom crying and whining to a God who not only understands, but dealt himself a far worse hand than He's dealt me.
And when I run off and cry to this God insisting that he should do it, leveling reason after reason why it would be amazing if he did do it, I can't help but laugh at my smallness of mind when I realize I'm talking to a God that is notorious for having bigger plans. He knows what He's doing. He knew what He was doing when he didn't come off that cross. He knew something better would follow.
And if I can spend my whole life following this God and believing in Him...if I can spend Lent after Lent, Good Friday after Good Friday and still not learn my lesson that God has his reasons and those reasons are good, those reasons demonstrate His power more than my reasons would, that those reasons are for a greater good, well, then, it's a good thing there's next year so I can have a chance to try to learn the lesson all over again.
Oh...Good Friday. I wish you didn't come. Because if you didn't, I could whine guiltlessly to a Savior I just didn't think understood suffering. I could bargain endlessly about why it's always better to just make suffering and sadness go away and dispel with the Cross. If you didn't exist, you ironically named Day, then I could bend the ear as one of your "little people" who you don't know what it is to be like.
Oh...Easter Sunday. Some days, when I like to wallow in my pity. I even sometimes wish you didn't come. Because if you didn't, I could boldly suggest that my idea is better. I could say that suffering isn't worth it. I could talk about how great it would be to settle for a lesser kind of good and a lesser kind of glory.
But Good Friday. Here you are. You've already begun. And on this night when I suffer, I can look and see this confusing image of my Savior who suffered. Who saves me not from the suffering, but saves me in the suffering.
And Easter Sunday. I know you are coming. You come every year, because you came on that First Year. And I am glad you are coming. Because when I play it all out in my head about amazing miracles, and death-defying rescues, I still feel the emptiness. I still remember the stillness on that ultrasound screen. I know when you come, you'll be bright, and joyful and full of sunshine and Alleluias. And the part of me that wants to cry and fuss and convince you that my way is better, will think about another kind of emptiness: The emptiness of that tomb.
And I know Your way is better, and even more amazing and more miraculous than mine.
Instead of all this, we saw a baby, 12 weeks in size, lying still and lifeless on his/her side, looking at us quietly. A minute passed, the doctor scrutinized the screen, moved the ultrasound wand looking for a heart that wouldn't beat. Everything was silent and it stayed that way for the rest of the visit. Using the internal ultrasound produced the same results. A lifeless little baby with a heart that had stopped beating two weeks ago.
Today, I went to Holy Thursday Mass. Still carrying the baby, but I sensed vacancy and emptiness even though his/her body was still there. I received communion. I thought about Jairus' daughter who was so clearly dead but Jesus, almost non-chalantly said, "She's just sleeping" and brought her back to life (as if that were a really easy mistake to make). Or Peter who healed Tabitha...Peter, whose power comes from Christ, the same Christ I just received in communion. I thought, "Lord, if this baby comes to back to life and it's a girl, we'll name her Tabitha! Wouldn't that be an amazing story to tell! Her very name will be a way to spread the glory of God." And if it's a boy, we'll name him Lazarus! Or maybe, just his middle name...Lazarus as a first name is kind of weird. But a middle name will still get the point across. Lazarus, the man dead for days and Jesus brought him back from the dead! The same Jesus I just received in communion! The very same person! I believe He is the same! No less powerful, no less capable of miracles! How can Jesus get any closer to touch my baby's body than receiving communion?
At the procession of the Blessed Sacrament, the priest passed us by, carrying the Eucharist. He passed us right by, like Peter's shadow healing the people in Acts...people were healed..because of Peter! But someone greater than Peter is here, passing by, and not just his shadow, but His real presence!
Lord! You can do it! It would be so cool! What a neat story! What makes these people, Tabitha, Lazarus, Jairus' daughter more important than my baby? My baby can grow to spread the gospel too..He or she can give you glory. He or she can make a difference! You can do it!
Yes, He can.
But Holy Thursday never ends without seamlessly flowing into Good Friday. Good Friday the day when Jesus' power, his ability, his resolve and purpose are put to the test. "Get down from the cross." He can! But He doesn't...yet. "Save yourself and us" He can! But He doesn't...yet. God can do all these things, He can bring this baby back to life, He can perform any miracle and answer any and every person who petitions Him for His display of power. But sometimes He does and sometimes He doesn't...yet.
And though I want to hold it against him for letting some live or some walk, or some see...but not everyone, how can I when He withheld His miraculous demonstration of strength and power even from Himself?
I'm running off to the bathroom crying and whining to a God who not only understands, but dealt himself a far worse hand than He's dealt me.
And when I run off and cry to this God insisting that he should do it, leveling reason after reason why it would be amazing if he did do it, I can't help but laugh at my smallness of mind when I realize I'm talking to a God that is notorious for having bigger plans. He knows what He's doing. He knew what He was doing when he didn't come off that cross. He knew something better would follow.
And if I can spend my whole life following this God and believing in Him...if I can spend Lent after Lent, Good Friday after Good Friday and still not learn my lesson that God has his reasons and those reasons are good, those reasons demonstrate His power more than my reasons would, that those reasons are for a greater good, well, then, it's a good thing there's next year so I can have a chance to try to learn the lesson all over again.
Oh...Good Friday. I wish you didn't come. Because if you didn't, I could whine guiltlessly to a Savior I just didn't think understood suffering. I could bargain endlessly about why it's always better to just make suffering and sadness go away and dispel with the Cross. If you didn't exist, you ironically named Day, then I could bend the ear as one of your "little people" who you don't know what it is to be like.
Oh...Easter Sunday. Some days, when I like to wallow in my pity. I even sometimes wish you didn't come. Because if you didn't, I could boldly suggest that my idea is better. I could say that suffering isn't worth it. I could talk about how great it would be to settle for a lesser kind of good and a lesser kind of glory.
But Good Friday. Here you are. You've already begun. And on this night when I suffer, I can look and see this confusing image of my Savior who suffered. Who saves me not from the suffering, but saves me in the suffering.
And Easter Sunday. I know you are coming. You come every year, because you came on that First Year. And I am glad you are coming. Because when I play it all out in my head about amazing miracles, and death-defying rescues, I still feel the emptiness. I still remember the stillness on that ultrasound screen. I know when you come, you'll be bright, and joyful and full of sunshine and Alleluias. And the part of me that wants to cry and fuss and convince you that my way is better, will think about another kind of emptiness: The emptiness of that tomb.
And I know Your way is better, and even more amazing and more miraculous than mine.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Working on his focus....
Michael is VERY well behaved at Mass. Whether it be a quick daily Mass, or a longer Sunday Mass, he measures up to anyone's standards of good behavior almost all the time. He knows all the words (even the priest's, and he sometimes tries to compete with him!), he sings the songs (even tries to learn the responsorial psalm each day), he kneels when it's time to kneel, and prayers for his friends and family after communion.
But sometimes, especially on Sundays when the promise of donuts after Mass weighs heavily on his mind, he can lose focus.
Today, a few minutes before Mass ended, he turned to me and very loudly whispered, "Mommy! We're gonna get donuts after Mass, ok? Sounds like a good idea?"
So, don't let his piety fool you all the time, like the rest of us, his mind sometimes wanders to more earthly treasures...
But sometimes, especially on Sundays when the promise of donuts after Mass weighs heavily on his mind, he can lose focus.
Today, a few minutes before Mass ended, he turned to me and very loudly whispered, "Mommy! We're gonna get donuts after Mass, ok? Sounds like a good idea?"
So, don't let his piety fool you all the time, like the rest of us, his mind sometimes wanders to more earthly treasures...
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Excitement for the Day
* Alternative title: My husband is abounding in Fortitude
This afternoon we went to one of our friend's birthday party. She just turned 1. She is one of Michael and Matthew's closest friends and they love little Clare so much. We had a great party and all the little kids (ours included, thankfully!) behaved perfectly!
After the party was done, it was getting close to dinner time and I was kind of tired so we decided to do a little drive-thru to give me a break.
Wouldn't you know, I just so happen to think we were in the right place at the right time because when we got in line, we noticed the lady in front of us was driving a little erratically in the drive-thru lane!. (Yeah, it's bad when you can't even drive straight at 1mph in a drive-thru lane).
So, after she hit the drive-thru sign indicating where the entrance is to the lane nearly hit us as she backed up to correct herself, tried 2 more times to get it right....and then bumped the car in front of her...we knew this was not just something we could let go.
Michael got out of the car, talked to the drive-thru window guy taking the money, talked to the guy who got bumped, and talked to the lady (all in the drive-thru lane mind you!), he got back in the car. The lady in front of us pulled forward to pay for her order, but couldn't even orient her car properly to pay. She hit the curb coming in at such a weird angle and then scraped her car as she pulled forward again.
The drive-thru guy, at Michael's request, told his manager, but wasn't able/willing to do more about the situation than just laugh and say, "Boy! Did you see her, she couldn't even drive straight!" So, this is perplexing...imagining this woman driving on the road where, as Michael put, things are actually moving...because as it is she's hitting things that are stationary. So at that point, we called 911. We had a good position to give the license plate and what-not, but time was running out because she was next in line to get her food!
So Michael got out of the car, I took the driver's seat, and then, with police on the way, Michael insisted that she not get on the road, after she got her food, Michael stood between her car and the road and directed her to a parking space while we waited for the cops.
Fortunately, an officer was one block away so he was there immediately, like, by the time I was done getting our food. So he found Michael, and then questioned the lady. In about 2 minutes, two more officers were there. Way to go San Diego police!
They talked with her for a few minutes, and asked us to wait. They took our information and kept that lady hanging on for quite some time but let us go home and eat dinner. They called us later to get our full statement.
The officer said he smelled alcohol on her breath and she admitted to having "a little Chardonnay" earlier in the afternoon. The officer said, "It seems like she's done this routine before with the police."
Anyways, that's our excitement for the day. We are grateful that we were where we were so we could do our part to keep this lady off the road and hopefully from hurting herself, her foreign-exchange student from Japan passenger, or someone else.
My thoughts on it all:
1) Michael has so much fortitude. He wasn't going to let this go or allow this to be someone else's responsibility. He knew the stakes were high and did everything he could to make sure she wasn't going on the road.
2) I'm glad it was a lady. I think drunk ladies probably are different than drunk guys. I didn't want a confrontation with Michael, and I think that would be more likely to happen with a man.
3) I wish the restaurant were more proactive. They didn't really seem to care.
4) Michael could have gotten hurt. She could have run him over trying to get away, or anything. He knew it was his responsibility to stop her even taking a risk. I'm glad all guardian angels involved (his, hers and the passenger) helped her be docile to Michael's "commands", pull off and wait for the police.
5). The police officers were great.
6) The gift of fortitude is both something from God (one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit!) but also requires the will to comply and practice. I've never known Michael do avoid doing something right because he was afraid of the consequences. He has lived a life of fortitude and knowing that makes me love him more and more and admire him as a father, especially to teach our boys such virtues.
This afternoon we went to one of our friend's birthday party. She just turned 1. She is one of Michael and Matthew's closest friends and they love little Clare so much. We had a great party and all the little kids (ours included, thankfully!) behaved perfectly!
After the party was done, it was getting close to dinner time and I was kind of tired so we decided to do a little drive-thru to give me a break.
Wouldn't you know, I just so happen to think we were in the right place at the right time because when we got in line, we noticed the lady in front of us was driving a little erratically in the drive-thru lane!. (Yeah, it's bad when you can't even drive straight at 1mph in a drive-thru lane).
So, after she hit the drive-thru sign indicating where the entrance is to the lane nearly hit us as she backed up to correct herself, tried 2 more times to get it right....and then bumped the car in front of her...we knew this was not just something we could let go.
Michael got out of the car, talked to the drive-thru window guy taking the money, talked to the guy who got bumped, and talked to the lady (all in the drive-thru lane mind you!), he got back in the car. The lady in front of us pulled forward to pay for her order, but couldn't even orient her car properly to pay. She hit the curb coming in at such a weird angle and then scraped her car as she pulled forward again.
The drive-thru guy, at Michael's request, told his manager, but wasn't able/willing to do more about the situation than just laugh and say, "Boy! Did you see her, she couldn't even drive straight!" So, this is perplexing...imagining this woman driving on the road where, as Michael put, things are actually moving...because as it is she's hitting things that are stationary. So at that point, we called 911. We had a good position to give the license plate and what-not, but time was running out because she was next in line to get her food!
So Michael got out of the car, I took the driver's seat, and then, with police on the way, Michael insisted that she not get on the road, after she got her food, Michael stood between her car and the road and directed her to a parking space while we waited for the cops.
Fortunately, an officer was one block away so he was there immediately, like, by the time I was done getting our food. So he found Michael, and then questioned the lady. In about 2 minutes, two more officers were there. Way to go San Diego police!
They talked with her for a few minutes, and asked us to wait. They took our information and kept that lady hanging on for quite some time but let us go home and eat dinner. They called us later to get our full statement.
The officer said he smelled alcohol on her breath and she admitted to having "a little Chardonnay" earlier in the afternoon. The officer said, "It seems like she's done this routine before with the police."
Anyways, that's our excitement for the day. We are grateful that we were where we were so we could do our part to keep this lady off the road and hopefully from hurting herself, her foreign-exchange student from Japan passenger, or someone else.
My thoughts on it all:
1) Michael has so much fortitude. He wasn't going to let this go or allow this to be someone else's responsibility. He knew the stakes were high and did everything he could to make sure she wasn't going on the road.
2) I'm glad it was a lady. I think drunk ladies probably are different than drunk guys. I didn't want a confrontation with Michael, and I think that would be more likely to happen with a man.
3) I wish the restaurant were more proactive. They didn't really seem to care.
4) Michael could have gotten hurt. She could have run him over trying to get away, or anything. He knew it was his responsibility to stop her even taking a risk. I'm glad all guardian angels involved (his, hers and the passenger) helped her be docile to Michael's "commands", pull off and wait for the police.
5). The police officers were great.
6) The gift of fortitude is both something from God (one of the gifts of the Holy Spirit!) but also requires the will to comply and practice. I've never known Michael do avoid doing something right because he was afraid of the consequences. He has lived a life of fortitude and knowing that makes me love him more and more and admire him as a father, especially to teach our boys such virtues.
Friday, April 15, 2011
"Stee"
Kids are great at inventing words.
Of course, in our family, we don't even think twice about the fact that "Gak" Michael's word for hot chocolate, is something we hear everyday...."Gak" is a totally made-up word, really has nothing to do with hot chocolate, and quite frankly, sounds a little disgusting. But, that's how it is. This is Michael's word for his favorite drink which really functions like most people's coffee. He can't really start his day without it, and since it seems like the only way to get milk in his system, I'm fine with it.
And Matthew is not less talented at making up words and making them part of the family vocabulary.
Meet "Stee."
It's a red helicopter. The most coveted toy in our home. So coveted, Michael went to the store to buy a second one, but of course that one mysteriously disappeared so we are back to the battle of the red "Stee."
I don't know why Matthew calls it "stee" but he is determined that this is what heliciopters are. When he sees one in the sky, he yells "STEEEE!!!! STEEEEE!!"
Michael Jr has now adopted the word and so it is falling into common usage in the home.
Each helicopter in the home has its own name: Brown Stee, White Stee, the coveted Red Stee, Yellow Stee and Green Stee. Michael can clearly articulate which one he wants, but Matthew uses syllables to describe each stee that is particular to each color. I suppose it takes a mother's ear, but the funny thing is, I know what he means.
At some point, we will have to correct it, but goodness, it's so darn cute the way they say it and that it's something that we'll remember long after they outgrow it.
In the meantime, next time you see a helicopter, feel free to call say it loud and proud: "STEEEE!!!"
Of course, in our family, we don't even think twice about the fact that "Gak" Michael's word for hot chocolate, is something we hear everyday...."Gak" is a totally made-up word, really has nothing to do with hot chocolate, and quite frankly, sounds a little disgusting. But, that's how it is. This is Michael's word for his favorite drink which really functions like most people's coffee. He can't really start his day without it, and since it seems like the only way to get milk in his system, I'm fine with it.
And Matthew is not less talented at making up words and making them part of the family vocabulary.
Meet "Stee."
It's a red helicopter. The most coveted toy in our home. So coveted, Michael went to the store to buy a second one, but of course that one mysteriously disappeared so we are back to the battle of the red "Stee."
I don't know why Matthew calls it "stee" but he is determined that this is what heliciopters are. When he sees one in the sky, he yells "STEEEE!!!! STEEEEE!!"
Michael Jr has now adopted the word and so it is falling into common usage in the home.
Each helicopter in the home has its own name: Brown Stee, White Stee, the coveted Red Stee, Yellow Stee and Green Stee. Michael can clearly articulate which one he wants, but Matthew uses syllables to describe each stee that is particular to each color. I suppose it takes a mother's ear, but the funny thing is, I know what he means.
At some point, we will have to correct it, but goodness, it's so darn cute the way they say it and that it's something that we'll remember long after they outgrow it.
In the meantime, next time you see a helicopter, feel free to call say it loud and proud: "STEEEE!!!"
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Favorite Foods
Michael and Matthew's eating habits really couldn't be more different.
It's hard to think of Michael's favorite food (as in main course) because something he gobbles up one meal, he'll refuse the next (though after a few minutes of pondering, we did note one exception to this rule being my dad's steak dubbed "Poppi's steak."
It's hard to think of Matthew's favorite food, because he gobbles so many foods up with so much enthusiasm, it's hard to know what is his favorite. You know, what do I prepare for birthdays and feast days that he will like especially? Pasta? Steak? Quesadillas? Lasagna? Hamburgers? Matthew loves all of these with almost equal fervor I don't know what his "favorite" is.
Perhaps Matthew is far less selective because I started him on a wider of variety of flavors sooner. Matthew, maybe once or twice ate anything with the name "Gerber" on it. Mostly, we just mashed or blended up whatever we were having very early on. Even the fruits I made him were hand-prepared so they had a much less processed texture, probably making him more open to different things.
They both eat well enough. They both love fruits and veggies and by the end of the day, they get enough protein that I'm satisfied. Carbs aren't even a question (except Michael hates potatoes that are not in the form of a chip or french fry. Super-healthy, I know!). However, I wish I could see Michael becoming a little more adventurous in terms of his likes. He is very quick to turn his nose up at the things outside his regular rotation of food. He won't do soups, I really have to work to get him to eat a sandwich (that's not a hamburger or grilled cheese (again, super healthy, huh). Thankfully, we recently discovered his love of peanut butter which is among the few things for which he'll ask for seconds.
Fortunately, I very early on realized (thanks again, Baby Whisperer!) how much eating for him can be a power struggle as much as it can be for nourishment. Michael likes control. He doesn't want me to have control, and he know that what goes in his mouth is something he ultimately has control over. I definitely don't stress out over it since I've seen him eat hardly anything, go to bed, and still wake up at the regular time in the morning and not complain about how famished he is....and I've seen him eat more food in one sitting than I often see him eat in a whole day. I know it all works out. He knows how to ask for a snack in between meals, and he knows that he gets more of what he likes if he at least attempts something he would rather not eat at the moment.
I guess I just would love to see him one day say, "What's for dinner, Mom?" and me announce some entree' and have him be really excited about it, eat it eagerly, and want seconds. I wish I felt more comfortable experimenting and introducing new foods without just knowing he won't even be remotely interested. Even though I know he's fine and won't starve (especially because he gets side dishes each meal so at least he'll eat something), it's kind of deflating to prepare a meal and have someone not even want to try it!
Maybe it's just a toddler thing, but as July inches closer and I'm starting to think of a great birthday menu, aside from getting my dad to come down and cook him up a juicy steak...what's going to make a great meal for Michael? And while November is still quite some time away, I don't even know where to begin narrowing down Matthew's menu to his *favorite* foods.
These two boys....I really wonder if they could possibly be any more different!
It's hard to think of Michael's favorite food (as in main course) because something he gobbles up one meal, he'll refuse the next (though after a few minutes of pondering, we did note one exception to this rule being my dad's steak dubbed "Poppi's steak."
It's hard to think of Matthew's favorite food, because he gobbles so many foods up with so much enthusiasm, it's hard to know what is his favorite. You know, what do I prepare for birthdays and feast days that he will like especially? Pasta? Steak? Quesadillas? Lasagna? Hamburgers? Matthew loves all of these with almost equal fervor I don't know what his "favorite" is.
Perhaps Matthew is far less selective because I started him on a wider of variety of flavors sooner. Matthew, maybe once or twice ate anything with the name "Gerber" on it. Mostly, we just mashed or blended up whatever we were having very early on. Even the fruits I made him were hand-prepared so they had a much less processed texture, probably making him more open to different things.
They both eat well enough. They both love fruits and veggies and by the end of the day, they get enough protein that I'm satisfied. Carbs aren't even a question (except Michael hates potatoes that are not in the form of a chip or french fry. Super-healthy, I know!). However, I wish I could see Michael becoming a little more adventurous in terms of his likes. He is very quick to turn his nose up at the things outside his regular rotation of food. He won't do soups, I really have to work to get him to eat a sandwich (that's not a hamburger or grilled cheese (again, super healthy, huh). Thankfully, we recently discovered his love of peanut butter which is among the few things for which he'll ask for seconds.
Fortunately, I very early on realized (thanks again, Baby Whisperer!) how much eating for him can be a power struggle as much as it can be for nourishment. Michael likes control. He doesn't want me to have control, and he know that what goes in his mouth is something he ultimately has control over. I definitely don't stress out over it since I've seen him eat hardly anything, go to bed, and still wake up at the regular time in the morning and not complain about how famished he is....and I've seen him eat more food in one sitting than I often see him eat in a whole day. I know it all works out. He knows how to ask for a snack in between meals, and he knows that he gets more of what he likes if he at least attempts something he would rather not eat at the moment.
I guess I just would love to see him one day say, "What's for dinner, Mom?" and me announce some entree' and have him be really excited about it, eat it eagerly, and want seconds. I wish I felt more comfortable experimenting and introducing new foods without just knowing he won't even be remotely interested. Even though I know he's fine and won't starve (especially because he gets side dishes each meal so at least he'll eat something), it's kind of deflating to prepare a meal and have someone not even want to try it!
Maybe it's just a toddler thing, but as July inches closer and I'm starting to think of a great birthday menu, aside from getting my dad to come down and cook him up a juicy steak...what's going to make a great meal for Michael? And while November is still quite some time away, I don't even know where to begin narrowing down Matthew's menu to his *favorite* foods.
These two boys....I really wonder if they could possibly be any more different!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)