I LOVE this Town!

  I LOVE my town, Erie, PA!  I can't help it-- the thought bursts through me every single time I walk the Peninsula.  I started my strolls there back in August and the beauty is mesmerizing no matter the day's weather or season.

   This summer, my daughters and I were captivated by the varying reactions from fellow walkers, runners and bike-riders.  We revisit these responses regularly...mostly while convulsed in giggles. 

   If you've walked Presque Isle on any sunny day during the warm months you'd already realize that the Karl Boyes multipurpose trail is exactly that, multi-purpose.  This is a shared path, with equal privilege given to all.  There is a courtesy reminder painted on the walk every so often asking all to KEEP RIGHT.  For those who travel...well, faster than I (ie, bike riders, roller bladers, skate boarders, and anyone jogging even at a snails pace,) the word seems to have secretly spread that you are to say, "ON YOUR LEFT," to let me know you are approaching behind me.  There's an element of excitement that is inherent in the fact that I will be run over if I don't move.  I truly appreciate the relish with which some announce this phrase, a sort of giddy power that I have no problem respecting.  This "On your left" is not posted anywhere to my knowledge-  therefore, a huge Congratulations to the verbal trendsetter who made it wildly popular!

 I've also noticed a genuine joy emanating from those bike riders who like to use their bell to alert us that we are about to be speed bumps if we choose to not share the path.  My teen-aged daughter and I delighted in the bikers who were prepped and ready to ring the bell with the lever in position, fingers quivering with anticipation to let it RIIIING...when we hear them coming and move over before their arrival.  The let-down of the moment is announced in the deflated "ting" as they depress the lever and utter a sad and unnecessary, "on your left" as if we'd just stolen their glorious, metallic punch-line.  

  Then there are the wonderfully gleeful "Good morning!,"  "Beautiful day today," and "Hello"'s  that highlight what a pleasant microcosm of our town's friendliest folks I am sharing the walk with.  Of course these greetings have offered their share of mirth based on the level of exertion said greeter is in whilst exercising.  A+ for effort to the perspiring runner who tried extending a "Good morning" which morphed into a breathy, croaked out "Meeahh" with a two fingers raised in a tired salutation.  I could only giggle because my level of breathing was barely challenged at my slowpoke pace. 

   There is a sense of comradery, civility, and kindness that seems to be inspired by the beautiful environment.  And it's no wonder, the panoramic view of Erie's skyline is stretched along views of an ever changing Bay.  At times I'm energized by the stark white clouds that invade the bluest of skies over top choppy waters that reach up to tempt birds that dare fly so low.  In contrast there have been moments that seem to have read my mood and offer serenity in the mist that hovers over tranquil waters which lap the low stones in a soothing effort to offer compassion.  With all this beauty in one tiny corner of this place I call home- I recognize how blessed I am to have been raised here and returned years later to raise a family.  I LOVE my town <3


 
 

 

Happy Birth-ing Day Mom!

It's my birthday...Yay to the past 43 years I've been on this Earth! 

It's my BIRTH day... an ode to the mother who pushed through the contractions, pain, and terrific storm that blew into the Cleveland area during the hours of my arrival to greet, kiss, and welcome her fifth born child.

  Mom...Mommy...Mother...Mama... you have the gift of Joy that enables you to see Faith when others see failure.  You are the mother of twelve children and you cherished us as greater than any physical wealth that could have lined your pockets, adorned your neck, ears, or fingers with costly jewels.  You valued LIFE above all the stress that could come with adding another to your table, home, or already packed station wagon... For this,  I thank you. You offered me my breath in order that I may fill my lungs with the hope of eternal life.  You fashioned my legs, hands, and feet that I may travel through this life bringing a bit of joy, sustenance, and comfort to others that I will interact with throughout my own existence.  You could have easily stopped being open to life after the first, second, third, or fourth child...and even after my own birth...yet you allowed twelve children to grow within your heart and home always knowing there was a greater plan than the thought of your own comfort.  You even gifted us with three more souls in Heaven that would pray for us to be able to one day meet them since they were to only see your womb before being called home.  How does one give thanks for something so grand as the opportunity to gaze upon stars, learn from the hardships and hilarities of a huge family, swim in oceans, lakes, and ponds, meet thousands of people from around the globe, drink in glorious sunsets, marvel at the moonlight, slink through misty gardens, dance across a flower-laden field...revel in life-changing relationships, and ultimately offer new life to this world through my own gift of motherhood.

Mom, I don't know that I can ever properly fashion the correct words to let you know I am so very grateful for your willingness to generously offer the gift of life to your fifth-born child. As your fourth daughter I know that there has always been a press on you for your time- I am in awe of your talents to bring fun to every day as I face my day-to-day mothering of my own seven children.  Thank you for the gift of my life.  Thank you for the gift of Faith.  Thank you for loving me into my adult life.  I love you Mom.  Happy Birth-ing day!    

"I've Got Your Back" (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday :)

We were outside one humid Sunday – kids weeding the garden, tilling the soil, and getting ready to plant their seeds.  I was entertaining our baby so the others could focus when my husband called over, “did you put sunscreen on her?”  Overseeing sunscreen administration is not one of my strong suits which is a little surprising since I am a detail-oriented person who can easily get frustrated when Jim or the kids ignore the “little things.”  For some reason, I am all about sunscreen when we will be hanging around the pool for the day, but I neglect to tend to this when we are heading outside for an unknown period of time.  My husband, having overcome melanoma, is extremely diligent in this area so he rolled his eyes and smirked when I rushed over to get the bottle of Water Babies sitting nearby and quickly started lathering it on her.  I can get a little defensive in moments like this, but this time I was actually reminded of a story a wise and holy friend of mine once shared.  

She described a situation when her husband took care of something she had failed to do.  Instead of being annoyed with her, he was understanding and told her “he had her back.”  What a novel idea!  To look at our differences and instead of being frustrated or angry with our spouse’s opposite approach to a situation, we would appreciate and respect each other’s strengths and weaknesses.  I forget the sunscreen or break the vacuum belt three times in two months, and I don’t iron his shirts for work.  He offers gentle reminders or fixes the belt and irons the shirts.  On the other hand, he forgets to record his checks and receipts in my checkbook or doesn’t make the bed even when he is the last one up or leaves his shoes lying around the house, so I figure out the bank statement anyway, make the bed and put his shoes away.  Sometimes I need to repeat the mantra over and over:  “I’ve got his back.  I’ve got his back.”  It’s much easier to get annoyed and grumble about his failures or oversights, but where does that get me?  It is like adding gasoline to a fire  -- I grumble and it makes me more exasperated.  It certainly does not put the fire out.  However, adopting the attitude of a helpmate and reminding myself that these are not his strengths but they are mine does extinguish the fire.  This can apply to our relationships with our children as well.  Maybe I should begin each day not thinking about what I hope my husband and kids do for me, but what I can do to help them physically, emotionally and spiritually.  It’s amazing how just a  LITTLE mental shift can mean a BIG difference in a relationship.

Live It: Identify two areas where you have to cover your spouse's back and two where he/she has to cover yours.... and then try to have a positive attitude next time those differences come to light:)

Holy Week Reflection (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday :)  

 Though fearful of seeming over dramatic, I must admit that my initial thoughts as I prayed about Holy Week were that, as a mother of seven children, I could relate to the suffering, abandonment and humility that Jesus underwent in the passion.  I almost feel blasphemous even putting those words on paper, as I do not mean to say my pain equals Christ's; however, as I am lying here in my bed, my husband having been out of town these past four days, a fly on the wall could certainly have heard me muttering such words as "slave", "beaten," "shame," and "abandoned" at various moments throughout my day. While I may have good reason to feel this way, if I allow myself to stay focused on these negative and ultimately depressing thoughts, my daily existence will become stuck in the passion. 

The challenge is to not just imitate Christ by accepting my crosses, but moving forward with them so I can reach the Resurrection. Yes, heaven is where we will experience our final resurrection, but there are many resurrection moments here on earth IF we allow ourselves to see them.

 A friend of mine once shared how he was walking across campus on a  frigid winter morn, and he began to feel as though icicles were forming on his fingertips. Instead of dwelling on this developing case of frostbite, he started thanking God for giving him a nose, fingers, and toes.  That's turning a crucifixion moment into a resurrection one.  This is not one of my strengths.  I have a much easier time being annoyed and angry than finding joy in the little things.  But I refuse to be content with my vices.  The next time my 10 yr. old son shoots his 9 yr old brother in the face with his Nerf gun because "we made a bet and I won", I need to thank the Lord that I have boys who love to play with each other and have lots of energy.  I need to remind myself over and over that all these little daily crosses will lead me closer to Jesus.... if I allow them to do so.

A couple Gallagher family traditions from Holy Week:

We love watching the end of "Jesus of Nazareth" (actually, the whole movie is fantastic.. brings the story of Jesus to life in a very real and effective way) on Good Friday.  It's not as violent as "The Passion" so it is appropriate to watch with the family, but it is still powerful.

 My husband takes the older kids to Church on Holy Saturday morning to help decorate and have some food blessed (love that polish sausage). They prepare the candles, etc. for the Easter Vigil which allows them to take some ownership for the special liturgy.  After the Vigil on Saturday night, we come home and enjoy a sundae bar... a tasty way to celebrate the Resurrection.

And one of our cheesier traditions:  on Easter morning before we look for baskets and eggs, we listen to Keith Green's "The Easter Song"... an uplifting, albeit dated, start to a joyful day:)

Tell us about your favorite Holy Week and Easter traditions!

KEEPIN' IT REAL...with WATERMELON EYES...

Okay...  It's time to get real!  My 15 year old son has tried to enlighten me as to the error of my ways...that error being too Lofty, TOO Religious, too BORING!  "Mom," Isaac said, "I'm only trying to help you.  No one is going to read that stuff.  It's a total turn off."  "Well, I asked, slightly...ok, very defensively, "Have you even read it?"  He responded with, "I saw the bible stuff (teenager speak for scripture reference), and knew it's just like all those other sites out there.  You're too formal when you write Mom- too hard core.  I've lived with you long enough to know that's not you.  If you were to be in a room with strangers and they read this (he's talking about my post Drowning in muck...and Scones - which, incidentally has ONE scripture reference (adult/formal talk for bible stuff) they wouldn't get a clear picture of who you are.  "It's called writing to your audience, son," I countered, then kind of slumped from his room, which is boldly decorated with a teen's idea of cool, ie.  one of his first hunting kills: a stuffed and mounted turkey- strewn with Christmas lights ...yes, it's March, hanging on the wall.

Fume, second guess, self doubt...repeat...

Alrighty, Isaac...you want real...here we go...** READER- PLEASE REFER TO EARLIER POST TITLED: BAGS PACKED AND READY TO GO.   Perhaps a bit lofty...included deeper meaning.  I shall now share with you the REAL LIFE that was unfolding all around me as I wrote that "pie in the sky" piece.

  Earlier that morning God had placed the idea of the story in my mind- what He didn't give me was the immediate time to write it.  A good friend once told me, "God will open a window of opportunity and you must grab it then."  Now, I am known to be a bit...uuum...distractable.  So, it shouldn't be a surprise that at 7:30 p.m., while climbing steps to get my daughter's jammies, I noticed the family was occupied and a window seemed to have suddenly opened and called my name!  Of course it made sense to me to toss the p.j's over the landing and holler to the nearest child to snag them while I fired up my trusty laptop and dove through that open window.

  It didn't even bother me when my second eldest son heard me yell about the jammies and took it as an invitation to join Mom upstairs.  Within minutes I had Stevie, Sam, and Jamie playing their e-game, Dinosaur Hunting, a mere three feet away from me as I typed away.  My daughter Susie decided Mom looked lonely sitting at her desk and decided it was time for a hair make-over.   Envision if you will, me- lost in thought staring at the computer screen while my fingers are tapping out the latest blog, meant to inspire readers to start their day with God, while my nine year old has removed my pony-tail holder and is trying to tame my naturally tight curls into flowing locks with the help of a vent brush.  "Does that hurt Mom?" she asks as my head jerks back and my eyes tighten into slits with the pulls of the brushing.  "No, hon, it feels good," I respond not missing a beat in my typing.  I'm not lying either.  At this point in my life being pummeled by a hale storm kinda feels like a massage.  Around this time Lily, my ten year old joins the party and exclaims, "I get to do the make-up!"  Susie yells, "Grab the flat iron- and don't let Dad upstairs til we're done!" while Lily descends the stairs to raid my makeup drawer.  Now I'm switching screens on my computer to look up a bible verse while the kids are trying to decided if the scary voice on their dinosaur hunting game is really saying,"Giiive meee yooour sooul!"  "What the..Gimme your WHAT?" I demand.  "What are you playing, Stevie?  Jamie, get off your sister! Ouch, Sus, that one kind of hurt... No, I don't think the dinosaur wants your soul...turn it down though, I can't think."

  Okay, breathe..type, type type...God, holiness, type... "Mom?" Lily asks, "what's your favorite fruit?" She's returned with my eyeshadow pallet and her hand is hovering over various colors.  "Fruit?" I ask, "well, I like blueberries."  "Oh," she sounds a little disappointed, "do you like watermelon?"  I smile as I notice her hand poised above a bright pink and say, "Sure, Lil, I love watermelon."  Then I continue on trying to wrap up my inspirational thoughts while the flurry of activity around me escalates into a blur of hair straightening, face beautifying, t-rex slaying frenzy. 

Suddenly Susie shrieks, "Daaad!  You can't see her 'til she's done!"  I can hear his voice climbing the steps as he's not about to take no for an answer.  "It's late, Hon," he says, "and we should've been getting the kids to bed an hour ago.  "But there was a window," I silently think...

"Ok," the girls call, "You can come up! What do you think?"  I know I'm in trouble by the glazed look that always accompanies my husband Steve's efforts to cover up a laugh... he manages to croak out, "Wow!"  By this time I've seen a cell phone picture of my hair that Susie took after she pulled back my bangs with the largest, shiniest, silver daisy clip I've ever seen.  What I didn't know was that Lily had turned my eyelids not into a lovely shade of watermelon...but into a likeness of the seeded fruit itself!  I believe there was even a green rind.  Steve can't take his eyes off me as he is led to the black rocking chair with flowered cushions and Susie immediately appoints herself as his beautician and begins to gel his receding hairline into a magnificent

mohawk while I launch into reading my future blog about the wise man and poor villagers.  We continue on amidst the tracking and shooting of various prehistoric beasts until Isaac, our 15 year old and only family member who was not congregated within four feet of my "window of my opportunity" came upstairs and took one look at Mrs. Watermelon eyes and said.."WAIT...Mom, you can't be serious."  "What?" I responded, "I'm reading the blog to Dad.  Now quiet."  Isaac said, "Mom, that would be like me trying to read you something serious while wearing a Darth Vader costume."  Taking his words as inspiration I continued on.."So, the wise man," pause for *SOUND EFFECT* Darth Vader heavy breathing through cupped hands, "says to the young man..*MORE ELECTRONIC HEAVY BREATHING... until Isaac, shaking his head, disgustedly stomped back downstairs. Somehow I finished reading to my husband amidst the chaos, only to have him respond, "Well, it's kinda long."

AND THAT, DEAR READERS, IS THE BACKGROUND WHILE MY KEYBOARD AND I MAKE MAGIC HAPPEN...(tongue in cheek). 

  You should know, every word of that is true.  As is the fact that while I've been writing this Stevie has asked me about 100x if I'm ready to take him fishing.  I've doled out at least seven chores and watched my five year old do a "leprechaun dance".  Sammy has stomped upstairs and slunk back down after being scolded for his echoing volume while Evie, our 22 mos. old, is napping in the next room.  Lily brought me salsa chicken and reminded me to count my Weight Watcher points.  I had just downed a box of Mike-n-Ikes so shamefully asked Lily to wrap up the chicken to avoid going over my Points (siiiigh).  And now the sun is out...so I will hit the road to take Stevie fishing and let the others go crazy on the playground.  This is real life-my life anyway... As for being too "hard core," in the words of my 15 yr. old, I will continue viewing life through eyes trained on the goal of Heaven but will attempt to be more open in letting my imperfections and surrounding chaos show too... Certainly not perfect here...definitely human.  Isn't that how humans connect?  By relating to what is common in life.  I know not everyone will find their eyes decorated with a fruit theme or hair frizzed out a mile wide...but then, maybe it will open a window for you into my life.  Maybe it will  spark some sort of connection somewhere down the road.  I hope so.

"Cleaning House" ... Literally and Spiritually (by Diane Gallagher)

It's Wednesday ... guest blogger day. :) Take it away Diane ...

***

Ahhh … the sweet smell of newly budding grass and flowers, a different array of birds at our feeder, glorious sunlight hours stretching longer into the day..Spring is here!  The physical and spiritual worlds unite in a special way this time of the year.  The dead of winter makes way for the new life of spring just as the death to self that occurs during Lent creates room for the new life of Easter that buds in our souls.  This is a great time for some spring cleaning and what better way to start than with  de-cluttering ... our homes and our souls!  I know I always feel so much better after I have done a good purging in our house!  A couple times a year, I like to get rid of as much unnecessary "stuff" as I can ... clothes, DVDs, games, toys. 

We have all heard the rule of thumb that you should get rid of anything you have not used/opened/put on in a year. We might as well let someone else use it  ... " your trash might be someone else's treasure."  Take advantage of a neighborhood garage sale or even better ... donate the things to a charity that is hosting a garage sale. Our parish holds one every year, and we are happy to contribute annually as it is mutually beneficial! 

Last Fall, I even held a mini-garage sale at my home ... but it was free for friends and family.  I figured that people have been soooo generous to us through the years, that it only seemed right to share the bounty with others. Whatever works best for your style, spring is a great time to take advantage of the burst of sunshine and energy associated with the season while helping your family be freed from all the "stuff" that can bog them down.

 As Spring is just beginning, we are now about halfway through the Church season of Lent. This is a perfect time to conduct some spiritual de-cluttering as well.  Recommitting to our Lenten fasts might be a helpful step this week as your will power may start to wane. (It’s amazing how many feast days I can suddenly be compelled to celebrate as I look for excuses to break my fastsJ)  You might also want to ask yourself what is cluttering your spiritual life and thus preventing you from having room for God. Busy schedules, email, facebook, errands and housework are not bad things, but if we do not keep our priorities and choices under God's watchful guidance, they can "clutter" our days and prevent us from living each day as He would have us. I love the image of our souls being like a vase. God's grace is the water that fills it. He can only fill as much as we give Him. If we are jamming as many flowers in the vase as physically possible, there will be less room for the water. While the flowers in and of themselves may be beautiful, they lose their attractiveness if they are smashed between many others. 

This image begs two questions: How big of a vase do we give God?  A bud vase with room for just one flower and little water (grace) -OR- a large container that can hold a big, beautiful bouquet and requires lots of water?  Secondly, what are we filling it with? Carefully chosen flowers with room for movement or as many random flowers off the side of the road that we can stuff in? For the remainder of Lent, maybe we could try to fast from things that are cluttering our "vases" and be more selective in what we put in them so we have more room for the Creator and His Grace.

Happy Spring!

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!

"Pace Yourself"

  Recently, I thanked a friend for her support during my painfully slow progress with posting~ I'm working on getting more regular (just don't go back and review post dates...).  She responded with more encouragement.  She reminded me that we are all busy during this holiday season.  "Sus,"  she said, "celebrate what you have accomplished and pace yourself- you'll get there."  It was nice to have a voice of reason soothing my temptation to beat myself up and offering encouragement to keep plodding along.

 I began to apply this logic to where I was in this very holy season.  I had launched myself and household into garlands and twinkle lights at supersonic warp speed.  It proved to be a "warped" speed because I had led a frenzied pace to decorate the entire house, familiarize myself with most Christmas tunes, and urge the kids toward being on the "NICE" list all before December 1st.  Indeed, this was a first for me.  I grew up in a home where the Church's Advent calendar led the season.  We lit the advent candles and did a daily spiritual reflection at dinner time.  My Mom was adamant in having us wait until the very eve of Christmas to decorate the tree.  I'm sure there is a happy medium in all of this timing.  But I will say that my childhood tradition of "waiting" certainly built the anticipation to a near fevered pitch for us kids.  We were also building a true understanding of Christmas and the Reason we were celebrating. I began to realize the wisdom in the advice to Pace Myself.  True, Christ had already been born 2011 years ago.  This wasn't a true birthday celebration.  Advent is technically about helping us ready ourselves in preparation for the second coming of Christ.  It was not a bad thing to place baby Jesus in the manger early in the season~ it was a nice reminder of how He came as a vulnerable child.  Yet, my preoccupation with "festivities" had felt a little hollow without remembering to work "on the inside" alongside decorating the outward appearances.  In doing so, I had nearly reached burnout prematurely and allowed the secular jingling bells to drown out the Silent Night. 

  I found healing and restoration in remembering the importance on pacing oneself...this season is a journey...Mary and Joseph certainly didn't reach Bethlehem on the donkey overnight.  It was with one step at a time. 

  Perhaps cliche, but always true, life is often about what happens while journeying that makes the destination hold significance.  Perhaps, this was true for St. Joseph.  Maybe it was in the quiet unseen parts of the journey on foot that he gave his greatest sacrifices- sharing his portion of food with the donkey so it could have the strength to continue carrying it's precious cargo.  Walking on foot so Mary could ride with a little more comfort.  Either way, it wasn't the speed with which they reached Bethlehem, that impresses us in stories to this day...it was the tremendous distance they traveled burdened as they were.  They reached Bethlehem and still found hardship in "No room at the Inn."  It was essential then as it is now... this concept of pacing oneself... we will get there...this life is not our home forever. 

Never too late for THANKS!

 Ah yes, Thanksgiving...  It was a beautiful day~  Sunny, with a hint of warmth.  I had such high hopes for the beautiful day that would enfold.  I even helped my five year old son fall asleep the nights leading up to this big day by telling him stories of what Thanksgiving would be like.  "Oooooh, the sky is still dark and Mama is sitting in the dim light in her robe with a pot of hot water boiling for hot chocolate,"  I had whispered to his closing eyelids.  At the mention of hot chocolate his eyes pop wide open and a huge grin appears.  "Then you walk softly down the steps and crawl into my lap," I tell him, "and we are the only two awake in the house.  We bake cinnamon rolls as the sun starts to come up and we giggle while we wait for the parade to start on t.v."


  Yes, that was a beautiful dream... Not a single bit of it came true but it was a lovely thought.  In reality, we all stayed up late the night before and I didn't have any hope of waking before the sun did.  However, my eleven year old son woke about 6:30 a.m and banged his way around the kitchen to make my husband and I breakfast in bed (another wonderful idea!).  As he delivered our eggs and coffee he announced, "See Mom!  I told you I'd wake you up early!"  The day then took off at an alarming rate as the other five woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  I did remember to thank God that our 14 year old "hormonal tornado" had spent the night at a friends as his siblings kicked, yelled, cried, and grouched for the next two hours.  My husband croaked out that he was feeling horrible so it was on me to bring morale back to the troops.  Unfortunately, it's difficult to inspire others when your own crushed "cinnamon roll dreams" are laying in a tattered heap.


  Fresh air can bring about a total change in perspective!  I announced I was taking a walk and invited the whole surly crew to join me.  Two took me up on it...  Sure, I secretly craved alone time while I walked around our little triangle of a yard but I also know the endorphins could do my kids a world of good.  I'm sure chaos was still brewing and erupting inside as we lapped the yard (1 lap = 1/4 mile).  I began to process my bedtime story turned nightmare.  I'll be honest, I even despaired about what to write to inspire others to be thankful.  And then I remembered when I had called our parish priest a few years ago to wail, "Father, everything is going wrong in our lives!!"  I had a very legitimate list of complaints and had expected sympathy and a plan of action.  His first words to me brought me up short.  "First off Susan, not EVERYTHING, is wrong in your life.  Is your health gone?  Did your house burn down? Are your children still with you and well?"  He continued by telling me it's a deception to focus on all the things that are going bad because it takes our attention away from what is right.  "Susan,"  Fr. Larry said, "It's so important to start listing- OUT LOUD- the blessings in your life."  Never forget to focus on what is GOOD in your life was the message I got loud and clear.


  As I lapped my triangle I sifted through that conversation and started my new list.  The two children that went with me had trailed off to run and play with the neighbors dog and pogo stick ;)  The fresh air cleared more than their bad mood.  I was thankful for my new perspective.  I was thankful that the day wouldn't remain in the valley of fighting.  I was thankful for the TWO Thanksgiving feasts we'd be sharing with both sides of the family.  I was Thankful that we have such a large family (both immediate and extended). 


AND... I was thankful that I remembered to be THANKFUL!