ROOTED in Surprise

  My five year-old daughter and I were snuggled in for my "favorite time of the day."  This "favorite time" is notoriously known amongst my children as "Nap Time."

  Looking for insight and inspiration from the mind of one so young and unsullied as my little, sparkly blue-eyed cherub I asked her, "So, what's it like to be Evangeline Rose Yurkewicz?"  To which she responded without missing a beat...

  "Well, I've always wanted to be a horseradish."

  And there you have it folks...outta the mouths of babes.  Well, kiddo, I gotta admit...I did not see that one coming.

Pumpkin "Bliss"

 "Mmmm, what is that smell?  Do you have yogurt in here?" 

  This is the "hello" I received as my two youngest hopped into the car to escape being dampened during the four foot walk from the school bus.  Normally, I just walk across the street to escort them home.  Normally, as in- not experiencing gales that broke my wet-weather confidence, flipped my hardy umbrella inside out, spanked us both and sent me scrambling back for car keys.  The odd and somewhat humiliating piece of this generous act of kindness on my part was the rapid deceleration of winds and the slowing of pelting rain to a gentle drizzle by the bus's arrival.  After deflating their excited expectation of going to a store or fast-food restaurant, the focus shifted back to the car's unfamiliar scent.

  "Why it's Pumpkin Bliss, of course!" I declared proudly.  Their unimpressed "oh" wasn't my desired response.  During my purchase of the orange packaged car freshener, displaying pumpkins, cinnamon, and colors of candy corn, I envisioned tv commercial actors deeply inhaling wafts of heart-warming, homemade Pumpkin Pies.  Yes, my reward for spending $3.99 +tax would be watching my children breathe in the likeness of those cinnamon fall treats followed by twinkles of delight, shining in their grateful eyes.  I must admit I did not notice any trace of pumpkin pie or harvest spices in the bought essence.  If I covered one nostril and sort of breathed out while half-breathing in I might have been able to justify the colors of candy corn...kind of.  But, for the purpose of pride, I declared once more with gusto, "It's Pumpkin Bliss!" and drove back around the bend to our house.

  An hour later I agreed to drive my oldest daughter to her friend's house.  "WHAT is that smell?!?" she asked, while lifting a genteel palm to her nose.  "It's Pumpkin Bliss!," came my triumphant, yet wavering response.  After all, it was her calling attention to the car's mild odor the day before which prompted my aquiring such Fall freshness.  Show me some love, I think as she blurts out, "It smells like yogurt."  I covered my waning hope with a smile, "That's funny!  That's what the kids said!," I weakly offered.  Her eyes slid sideways towards me as she added, "Rotten yogurt."  I began to think back to my attempts of choosing between the store's two offered scents.  Vanilla and Cream's scratch and sniff declared it NOT the winner.  And...wait a minute...that's funny...three Pumpkin Bliss in a row don't have a scratchy piece of plastic to test?  How odd, I think as I dig through the entire stock...not a one.  Hmmmm....perhaps I should be suspicious?  Well, it IS raining out and I really don't want to go to another store soooooo...we'll go with- you guessed it, Pumpkin Bliss.  Til I get in the car and realize it's more like Butterscotch Feet.  I guess I shouldn't be shocked by my children's underwhelmed reaction. 

  Another 15 minutes go by before my second eldest daughter chimes in during her ride home from school.  The dramatic question passes through lips curled in disgust, "What smells like SWEAT in here??"  Siiiiigh... by this point I can't even muster a jolly declaration so it comes out more like a question, "Pumpkin Bliss?"  "Eeeeew, it doesn't smell anything like pumpkins!," is her gauntlet tossed on my defeated purchasing prowess.  "Look here!, I begin my defense, "I saw pumpkins and candy corn and thought it would be festive with Thanksgiving coming up AND I paid for it so we are USING it!"  "Eeeew," seems to be her best come-back.  Then I just could not help myself and had to know, "So you really don't think it smells like butterscotch feet?"  Just as swiftly as the wind had died down, my white flag rose and the stink became casual conversation.  "Ummmm no, I think it smells more like sweat, but kinda like a vanilla-y sweat. But I get why the other kids smell yogurt."  I can't believe I'm nodding my head in agreement to this...siiiigh.

 It's been a solid week of  scent that never fails to "surprise" us each time the car doors are whipped open and the aroma wafts out.  It never gets old and doesn't seem to be ebbing in strength.  I've circled Thanksgiving's date on my calendar to count the number days I must be strong until a "certain purchase" goes missing on garbage day.  I already have it's replacement stashed deep in the cupboard to conceal my defeat.  It's  Frosted Pine.  Hey! Save your judgement...it had pictures of snow covered pine trees and a lovely holiday gold...right above a white convertible with it's...OH NO...how did I not see it's... top down???  In winter??? 

 Oh well, I already bought it...

   

Life Is...Surprising

  It's raining outside.  I used to think I'd be listening to jazz, sitting on the window ledge of an upper studio apartment, looking down over the streets of New York City on a gray day like this.  I even pictured playing along on my own saxophone.

   Yeah...uhhhm no.  Let's just say my life holds no semblance to the existence I envisioned while in my teens. 

  I do have Michael Buble's station playing on Pandora...so I shouldn't say NO semblance right?  It is kinda jazzy.  But as for New York City- well,  I'm in the neighboring state of Pennsylvania sitting in my upper story (yet another semblance), wooden office, looking out over fallen leaves that have covered my husband's ladders.  Those tools sit next to the well-loved lacrosse portion of the yard which is the backdrop to our summer's shining star- the pool.   Of course there's the swingset with attatched platform/slide that has seen better days...and by that I mean it used to be the summer's shining star.  The kids are getting older and we have more pick-up football games than we do calls for Mommy to "come push me!"  We can't forget Millie's (our choc lab) kennel.  It's kitty-corner to the fire pit that Millie sneaks wood from to chew when she thinks we're not looking.  It's the same wood she sneaks within plain view, then takes off to the lax area to hide behind the net...it's a net Millie, we can see you!

  It's raining outside...perhaps the same condensation passed over NYC hours ago.  Crazy to think of a life so foreign to my current days.  I've never even held a saxophone to my lips.  I'll hint at my age and admit that fantasy's inspiration was influenced by Kenny G.  Who didn't love Silhouette?  flashback to Silhouette (you're welcome).  And yet, I am happy.  I am content.  I look at the leaves that cover the yard where my children's youth has played out.  I see the trees that were full of vibrant green buds just this past spring.  They have released their blooms that whispered in summer's breeze and stand disrobed, yet sturdy, guarding our lawn carpeted in the golden offerings from these sentinels.  I'm reminded of another childhood favorite that holds more meaning now then ever... Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree.  No kidding, this book sits on the edge of my desk...next to the window I look out.  Perhaps it's been waiting for this rainy day to remind me how good I've got it.  And how life is not about the destination but the journey. 

  We parents once held the bud of youth in our dreams of how life would be.  We now have the opportunity to lay down our golden glory for our children to pile up and play in.  They can cover themselves and feel secure in our commitment to share this journey with them.  Perhaps they will provide us with their own little buds to bring rejuvenation in our golden years.  It comes full circle.  I wouldn't trade a single, crazy, hectic moment nor a neck hugging, sloppy kiss on the cheek embrace for a smooth jazz note lilting what could have been.  We make our own music here with broom stick air guitars and ladles for microphones. These are the days creating the memories of tomorrow. I imagine when I am an old woman I will look out at the trees and smile, remembering my children hanging from the branches and lobbing footballs under their leaves.
 
   Then again, I've been surprised before...perhaps I will be harnessed to my eldest, sharing a tandem skydive.  I wouldn't put it passed my second to have me deep sea fishing or my third to share her hotel amenities while she attends a medical conference on the Big Island.  My fourth just may get me to New York for a Broadway play the night after my fifth reserved a front row seat so I could watch the mad drumming skills he led the band with.  I will need some quiet time so I suppose I would prefer the box seat offered to watch my sixth in the Superbowl.  I will be tired so I will gladly return to my husband who kept the home fires burning at our sweet seventh's home-- where we will live.  ;)

 

Drum roll please...

 I am SOOO excited to introduce you to the wisdom, humor, and authentic goodness of a very dear friend of mine (and soon to be yours), Diane Gallagher.  She, too, is a mother of seven ... hey, didn't you know we travel in packs? 

“Diane, may I introduce you to the internet’s most savvy and brilliant blog followers?” 
(Pleasantries exchanged) 

“And now, dear Harborlily Creative Readers, hold onto your hats...or at least take cover as you gain an insider’s view into a lively household of seven, mostly redheaded, cute as they come, Irish/Polish kiddos.”

Diane will be joining us here every Wednesday come heck or high water … or kids with fevers over 104 degrees. She’s a woman who'd like to share her insights as she strives to live a life committed to God's Will for her marriage and family. Join us as Diane shares her joys, hopes, and her secret on how to make the perfect peanut butter with honey sandwich in our new blogger series. 

After reading Diane’s post, please be so kind as to COMMENT with topics you'd like discussed. Subjects as vague as "How to pray with kids," or as specific as, "I need help removing a stain on my child's altar serving garment that was soiled when the smell of incense caused my offspring to grow woozy and vomit before hitting his head whilst he collapsed from heat exhaustion on the altar."  In which case, it may be time for us to start a Prayer Intercessory column. ;)

Without further rambling ... I present to you our very first guest writer MRS. DIANE GALLAGHER! 

~ ~ ~ ~

It's been said that raising children is like building a cathedral: it takes years of hard work, but you may never see the results. "Cathedrals," you say?  I'm building cathedrals? That is both a relief and a little scary. My name is Diane Gallagher, and I am extremely busy these days building seven cathedrals. No wonder I am so exhausted!  Before I got into "construction", let me tell you a little bit more about me.

 I was a high school teacher, youth minister, retreat leader and chastity program
coordinator. I met my husband while serving on NET ministries, an evangelization program that sends teams across the United States to put on retreats for high school teens. I have to believe that through the past 13 years of construction, God has taught us some valuable lessons both through our failures and our successes about guilt-free parenting, marriage, sacrifice, peace and much, much more.  We are learning more every day (whether we want to or not. :)

I am excited to be writing a guest blog on Harborlily Creative. Since High school, I have enjoyed writing, journaling and creating ideas, but have not had much opportunity to tap into this lately.  Thanks to the gentle nudging of my dear friend, Susan Yurkewicz, I am finally exercising these muscles again and will be posting a weekly reflection. My goal is to offer encouragement and support by sharing my own experiences as a Catholic wife and mother in a sincere and honest manner.  I want to relate the Gospel message to our own daily walks as parents. If one thing I share can validate, reassure, or relieve a fellow parent, then my mission here is complete.

In the next month I am hoping to write about "celebrating" Holy Week with your family, spring cleaning (your house and your soul), and applying Christ's passion to our role as parents.  As Susan mentioned in her kind introduction, I welcome suggestions for future posts.  I do hope you will return!

Merry Christmas Season!

  Aaaaah...siiiigh...December 27th and I can finally sit around in my robe at 10:40 a.m. without panicking that there is wrapping, baking, visiting, to do.  Christmas eve was beautiful though busy~ We enjoyed parties on both sides of the family.  A highlight was the Christmas vigil Mass we celebrated between the two gatherings.  Our two eldest girls had joined the children's choir for the first time and were rewarded with solos and bell ringing.  We were rewarded with that warm fuzzy glow that accompanies any event in which your children shine.  It was especially touching that their sweet innocent voices were praising Baby Jesus!
  Onto Christmas morning... definitely glad that I took the time the night (well wee hours of the morning) before to prepare quiche and prep for breakfast.  The family really appreciated a full morning meal that had everyone around the table in good spirits...(my personal favorite part...well, that and the morning nap that followed:))
  Christmas night rolled around with my sister, brother-in-law, nephew and a big ham dinner. 
This truly was a filling day- fulfilling with the gift of our salvation wrapped in swaddling clothes, His Love shared through the family He's gifted me with, the food He provided, and the warmth that comes with acknowledging how Blessed I truly am. 
Merry Christmas one and all!  May the Joy of this season carry you through the Epiphany.  I thank God that Christmas is a whole Season...not just a day.  I continue to remind myself there are "peaks and valleys".    We've had our lows when kids are overtired and grouchy.  We've also experienced the peaks of rosey cheeked excitement that glow over mugs of hot chocolate.  The good and bad are part of the journey.   The journey is the focus...not one encapsulated moment.  Fortunately, I'm able to end this post on a peak!  My kids and there cousins are playing well.  Moods are stable and I'm still cozy in my robe with a mug of coffee.  I would, however, welcome any and all comments and encouragement for the darker moments when stocking raids have led to sugar melt downs and the "valley" of post holiday cheer seems to loom menacingly near... 
  I love knowing we are all in this together!  Enjoy your Peaks!

So Cozy!

    I've always had an unusual fondness for cloudy, rainy, stormy, bad weather days.  I used to think it was because on these days I often found myself cuddled up with a cup of tea and a good book.  Of course after children started coming along in my life I am more partial to a steaming cup of coffee.  Somewhere over the years a "good book" has morphed into an interesting magazine article due to time restrictions. 

  Time has revealed the reason behind the enjoyment I receive from these inclement weather days.  A large part is due to the cancellation of my "To Do" list. 

  Oh darn... it's not sunny out, I guess I should break out the paints and a blank canvas.  Oh noooo... a snow storm...siiiigh, I guess we should light a fire and heat hot chocolate while we sift through family photos and create an album ;)

  Ultimately, ugly days provide the permission to "play indoors".  To dream the dreams and let creativity flow...

  Sometimes it's enough for me to watch as my children create sopping wet roses and poppies, big brown blobby puppies, and paintings that, in their eyes, clearly rival Michelangelo and Renoir. (I truly have these very works drying on my dining room table now...it was a gusty weekend with some showers).  Other times I too, must break out the crayons and clay and let myself play~ unhindered by adult "supposed to and shoulds"...

  The rain has always helped living things grow...I wonder why it's taken me this long to understand that meant creativity too! 

Testing is back...

  I wrote about my last pregnancy in Tiny Love... 

The genetic testing on our baby is back...  Our son's name is Lawrence Ignatius (named after Fr. Larry Richards, the amazing evangelist Priest who married us and continues to administer the Sacraments to us and our children) and St. Ignatius~ prolific writer.  Our son did have Trisomy 18.  This was the same genetic disorder which affects the 18th chromosome (three genes instead of two...hence the Tri)...which as they say in the medical world, "makes this child incompatible with life". 

  This is very rare to have two children with Trisomy 18.  They suspect my husband or I have a fragmented 18th chromosome.  Doctors reccomend we have genetic testing/counseling. 

Simply amazing that we have seven healthy, chromosomally sound children!