Wednesday, January 4, 2017

The Third Annual Oor Wullie Day

This is a re-post in honor of today's Kennedy Family Holiday:


In honor of all invented holidays with little to no real meaning, I present to you 
OOR WULLIE DAY, December 31, 2014!

Imagine a 1940's, Scottish Bart Simpson/Dennis the Menace. That is Oor Wullie. With his spikey hair and dungarees he gets into, and often neatly out of, messes and then philosophizes about them from his seat on his trademark upturned bucket.

Jim grew up getting Oor Wullie Annuals every year from his Aunt in Scotland, and now our kids read Oor Wullie. I learned early on that they can't be read aloud....at least not be this non-Scottish Mama. I'm raising Scotsmen but I don't speak it.

Here is D's Oor Wullie imitation. And you can see the books all over the floor. 

See how hard it is to read? "It's a sait fiche" means literally "It's a sore fight" but figuratively "It's a hard life". 

"Oor Wullie Day" began in 2012 when the kids got an Oor Wullie comic book for Christmas and they got so absorbed in it that, several days later we had to put it away. That was when we decided that a once a year Oor Wullie marathon would be a good way to balance it out.

So, New Years Eve 2014 was the first actual Oor Wullie day. The kids had a ball pretending like Oor Wullie was going to come down the chimney and leave them food, or books or something. They made a sign and left him cookies. In the morning all the collected Oor Wullie and The Broons (a sort of companion comic strip) annuals were set out on the hearth and they had a few new ones.
This is from Oor Wullie Day 2014.
Then the fun begins:

Hour 1

Hour 3


Hour 5

Seriously. They read pretty much all day. D was the most absorbed, reaching his goal of reading every Oor Wullie Annual we own. He decided that next year he would read all the Oor Wullie and two of The Broons. M is a Broons fan and A just likes to find funny pictures to show everyone. 

It was the most peaceful, relaxing day we have had all year. Jim and I wanted to try and bottle it up...how can we set aside some special things and keep them from becoming old and boring, or obsessions? How can we better foster a love of reading, or other non-screen activities that we can do as a family? We will be pondering these questions in the new year. 

Happy New Year! 
And remember, only 364 more days until Oor Wulle Day!

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

'Tis the Season for "Making Memories"

Have you ever heard the story of St. Therese and her Christmas moment? She and her father and sisters had just returned from Midnight Mass and she was looking forward to checking out all the gifts left in her shoes by the hearth. As she went upstairs to put her hat away she overheard her father say, in an annoyed voice, "Well, fortunately, this will be the last year!" 

He was tired. He was weary of keeping up the little childish traditions.  

(Whenever I use an annoyed voice with my sweet kids I try to remember that Therese's father is a canonized saint!)

Needless to say, Therese was hurt, and felt tears come to her eyes. But she received a special grace that night that allowed her to put aside her own selfish feelings and turn them into joy and gratitude for her gifts. (The story, in her words is at the end of this post.)

What does that have to with Making Memories? 

First of all, it is interesting to note that the memory her father made about Christmas--one that stands out in her mind so much that it was written in the story of her life--is the night he complained about "making memories". 

I can so relate to this man sometimes. At this time of year it is so easy for me to get all caught up in the wonderful things other people do at Christmas time. It is on the blogs, and smeared all over Pinterest. It is in the commercials, the Christmas movies, even my own photos from previous years. 

And now that my kids are getting pretty big, I hear an idea for little kids and wish I had done that. There was a great one about revealing the truth about Santa Claus and I found myself wishing we had done Santa Claus so I could have had this great moment with my kids. I am sure they would be better people today if I had. Don't you think?

Suddenly, I am tired and cranky. And I begin to turn a little green, with yellowish eyes, and a weird hair thing going on on top. Like this......





Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming,

"I must find some way to keep Christmas from coming!


For, tomorrow, I know all the Who girls and boys
Will wake bright and early. They'll rush for their toys!



And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
There's one thing I hate! All the NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!


Okay, maybe I am not that bad. I really love Christmas and would never wish it didn't come. And, for the most part, I enjoy every little thing that we do--our little family traditions. 

But sometimes I worry that I am Therese's father, speaking with annoyance, and making the wrong memory for my child. 

Yet, on closer examination...it wasn't his complaint that made the memory stick in Therese's mind, but the Grace of God that filled her heart. She remembers it as a moment of conversion. I am sure there were many Christmas's that her parents felt were beautifully done, picture perfect, and an amazing memory for her childhood. But this one makes it to the book.  

It was Almighty God, the perfect Father, who took her father's weakness and made into this great moment. Therese was prepared for the moment by the nurturing of her faith, bit by bit, through every day of her childhood. It was the things they always did that laid the groundwork. The everyday stuff. Prayer, Mass, striving for holiness, repentance and forgiveness, work, talking about God, reading about Him. 


Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store.

Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!


And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they say
That the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day!



Maybe, if I stop and think about the whole concept of "making memories", I can remind myself that when we live life in a way that orients us towards the Source of all happiness, and with an eye to the place in which memories do not need to be made, the place where all that is good will be present to us and nothing will be fleeting, no joy will escape our grasp into yesterday---in this way we let God make the memories.  

It seems to me that, after all, the memories that matter are not the ones that begin "Remember that time we....", but really those ones that begin "Remember when we always used to....". Those are formative. They make us who we are. 

My friend Susannah makes a good point in her post, sometimes all we need to do to "make memories" is to name the thing that we always do. Declare it the tradition. 
If you usually begin to decorate on Thanksgiving weekend, say that "It's Our Tradition to decorate on Thanksgiving weekend."  They will look forward to it and it will suddenly become even more wonderful.  If you typically have pancakes on Christmas morning, call them "The Christmas Pancakes" and voila!  Instant tradition. 
And then let those things we always do be the build up to the memory that God wants to create. Make it the soil into which he plants the seeds that beautify the soul, like little Therese. 







A Christmas Memory from St. Therese:
It was December 25, 1886, that I received the grace of leaving my childhood, in a word, the grace of my complete conversion. We had come back from Midnight Mass where I had the happiness of receiving the strong and powerful God. Upon arriving at Les Buissonnets, I used to love to take my shoes from the chimney corner and examine the presents in them; this old custom had given us so much joy in our youth that Céline wanted to continue treating me as a baby since I was the youngest in the family. Papa had always loved to see my happiness and listen to my cries of delight as I drew each surprise from the magic shoes, and my dear King’s gaiety increased my own happiness very much. However, Jesus desired to show me that I was to give up the defects of my childhood and so He withdrew its innocent pleasures. He permitted Papa, tired out after the Midnight Mass, to experience annoyance when seeing my shoes at the fireplace, and that he speak those words which pierced my heart: “Well, fortunately, this will be the last year!” I was going upstairs, at the time, to remove my hat, and Céline, knowing how sensitive I was and seeing the tears already glistening in my eyes, wanted to cry too, for she loved me very much and understood my grief. She said, “Oh, Thérèse, don’t go downstairs; it would cause you too much grief to look at your slippers right now!” But Thérèse was no longer the same; Jesus had changed her heart! Forcing back my tears, I descended the stairs rapidly; controlling the poundings of my heart, I took my slippers and placed them in front of Papa, and withdrew all the objects joyfully. I had the happy appearance of a Queen. Having regained his own cheerfulness, Papa was laughing; Céline believed it was all a dream! Fortunately, it was a sweet reality; Thérèse had discovered once again the strength of soul which she had lost at the age of four and a half, and she was to preserve it forever!

Friday, December 2, 2016

Stop Saying "This is What Christmas Is All About" ...unless it is

I've got a seasonal gripe. It might make me sound Grinchy, but I can't help it. 

I keep seeing Facebook posts with a dubious claim. Sometimes it is a touching story of generosity, sometimes a pretty song. Or maybe it is just a beautiful holiday scene. Whatever it is, it starts or ends with:

This is what Christmas is all about!

Sorry. No, it isn't.

It is all over TV this time of year. I watch way too many Hallmark movies, as I said before. And the main characters of these sappy holiday TV-movies are constantly coming to the brilliant realization that baking cookies with kids is what Christmas is all about. Or that old fashioned decorations is what its all about. Or having coffee with your estranged mother, brother, father, boyfriend. Sometimes it is working with the poor, or gathering with the community to save an historical building, or saving a dog from...whatever. 

Now, I am not personally against baking cookies (proof is in my freezer), nor am I against having coffee with anyone, estranged or not. And, of course, I am not against caring for the poor, or saving historical buildings. And I like dogs. Really, I do. Don't own one, but, you know, dogs are fine pets. I don't want anyone to think I am anti-dog.

However....none of these things are "what Christmas is all about". 

So now, forget all those other TV characters and listen to Linus. 



Actually, I think there is another TV star who said it even better. Venerable Fulton J Sheen tells us what Christmas is all about in his book Life of Christ

No worldly mind would ever have suspected 
THAT HE WHO COULD MAKE THE SUN WARM THE EARTH
would one day have need of an ox and an ass to warm Him with their breath; 
THAT HE WHO, IN THE LANGUAGE OF SCRIPTURES, COULD STOP THE TURNING ABOUT OF ARCTURUS 
would have His birthplace dictated by an imperial census; 
THAT HE, WHO CLOTHED THE FIELDS WITH GRASS,
would Himself be naked; 
THAT HE, FROM WHOSE HANDS CAME PLANETS AND WORLDS, 
would one day have tiny arms that were not long enough to touch the huge heads of the cattle;
THAT THE FEET WHICH TROD THE EVERLASTING HILLS
would one day be too weak to walk; 
THAT THE ETERNAL WORD WOULD BE DUMB; 
that Omnipotence would be wrapped in swaddling clothes; 
THAT SALVATION 
would lie in a manger; 
THAT THE BIRD WHICH BUILT THE NEST 
would be hatched therein—
no one would have ever suspected 
THAT GOD COMING TO THIS EARTH 
would ever be so helpless. 

And that is precisely why so many miss Him.
DIVINITY IS ALWAYS WHERE ONE LEAST EXPECTS TO FIND IT.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Happy Birthday Dad! Can I have the candy bar now?

Today would have been my father's 81st birthday (did I count that right Mom?) And so he is on my heart and memories are flowing. Here he is as a little boy in Milwaukee. Isn't he cute?


Here he is as a little boy in Milwaukee. Isn't he cute?

One memory that Ethel reminded me of  is a small incident of tough love from childhood that has served me well all my life.

My Dad, a full blooded Italian--though American born,  had a big heart, loved hugs and was occasionally prone to tears. But, when need be, he could be tough.

So, there I was standing near the check out at the local drug store staring at a large rack of candy bars. Dad had said we three kids could each pick out a candy bar. This was not a regular thing, though Dad had a soft spot for sweets. Candy was usually reserved for Halloween, Easter and Christmas. But, for whatever reason, he said we could pick one out. My brother and sister quickly grabbed their favorites, but I was stuck. The Hershey bar or the Nestle's Crunch? Or maybe a Snickers? Special Dark or Milk Chocolate? Wait...maybe M&M's.

This indecision went on so long, and with so many threats to "Hurry up!" that my Dad finally said "That's it! No candy bar for you!" and he checked out without my candy choice.

I am sure I cried. Sweets were  are very important to me. But I can remember vowing to never let indecision paralyze me, especially when it came to inconsequential things, or those of medium consequence.

I have often thought about this memory when life's little decisions become difficult, everything from "Whats for dinner?" to "Do I make a doctor appointment about this?". I can't claim to be a great decision maker--after all, down deep I am still the same kid who couldn't choose a candy bar--but the little hard lesson early on reminds me that indecision comes with consequences. Real life consequences. Sometimes you just have to move forward no matter how unsure you are.

And it also gives me hope that those things that I nag my kids about, the ones that I think they will never get, may just sink in enough to serve them well someday when they are on their own.

Monday, November 14, 2016

The Famous Cookie Dough Analogy

Picture from this recipe.
This is not an endorsement of said recipe. 


So I was trying to think of something to write and I searched my computer for the word "blog".  I know I have lots of documents in which I have quickly scrawled brilliant blog post ideas, most of which never made it to the blog. This is mostly because, on second thought, they weren't so brilliant. Although some of the time, as in today, it is because I went back to the note and had no idea what the heck I was thinking.

Today I ran across a document called "blog/cookie dough analogy".

Now that is enticing! What brilliance lays buried there?

Whatever it was, it is apparently still buried. Here is the only sentence written on that page:

You can’t fix the cookie dough once you put that tablespoon of salt in it. 

Wow! Profound...don't you think?

I can't, for the life of me, remember what I thought was so brilliant about this and what analogy was coming from it. It could be that I thought there should be some great lesson in the destruction of cookie dough...I mean beyond "NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!".

I do recall the story behind it. It is family legend.

We were making cookies with my mother and I believe there were some neighbor kids involved, in addition to my sister. Legend has it that I added multiple tablespoons of salt to the batter. In reality, it was probably just one. I am sure I misread teaspoon as tablespoon and it couldn't have been any more than one.

My mother thought she would save the day and multiply the recipe to accommodate the extra salt. Apparently it doesn't work that way. The giant triple sized recipe still tasted bad.

Lesson learned...when the mistake is salt, and it is huge, just start over.

So....writing prompt: apply this to life.

This is an analogy for......

I won't eve try to apply the lesson to the election in any way...trying to make any statement without offending anyone is like adding a half a cup of salt instead of a half teaspoon...ruin that cookie dough!

Well, how about this....some days, as a mom, you start with a huge dose of saltiness. And...and....those days need a do over, start again, go back to the beginning.....

That's it!! (here I can imagine Lucy yelling and Charlie Brown tumbling over)

I think this analogy applied just today.

You know when you somehow get on the wrong footing with a kid. You start down the path of grumpy, challenging interactions. And your thermostat keeps rising and the kid's attitude keeps getting, ummm... saltier, and you are headed straight to a disastrous and disappointing day batch of cookie dough. 

That is when you need to stop the escalation, don't triple down on that "What did you just say?" or that "What did I just tell you to do?".

Just start over. 

Go back to the beginning. (Why do I picture a drunken Portuguese swordsmen when I say that?)

Somedays that means a little dash of humor, a moment or two of easy direction following, and an offer to help with that writing prompt. Some days it means someone (read: me) needs to be sent to her room to cool off. Some days it means some other one (read: kid in question) needs to cool down in quiet.

But most of all, what is needed is a fresh start.

For some reason I have this incredible urge to bake cookies right now.

Maybe the kid sequestered in said room would like to help.




Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Important "Lessons" Learned from Hallmark Movies

True confession---I watch Hallmark movies. Yes, those silly romantic movies staring old TV stars and written for every holiday. Sometimes you just need to be able to watch TV without worrying about what you might see or hear--no autopsies, serial killers, or nudity. Just inane dialogue with a happy ending. 

However, they are not all fluff. I have learned important lessons from Hallmark movies. Here are just a few: 

1. All good people love dogs. If someone does not respond with the appropriate cooing and fussing to a dog, they are a bad guy. You especially should never consider marrying that person. 

2. All good people work for charities or companies that produce alternative fuels. No exceptions. Okay...they can own a bakery, but they have to do it "from the heart" and for the shear "love of making people smile". 

3. There are only really three plots for romantic comedies: 

A: boy meets girl, falls in love, one of them moves away, comes back engaged to a dog hater, and then re-falls in love with original old flame. 

B: boy meets girl, they hate each other, then are thrown together in an uncomfortable situation in which they fall in love (usually happens over very short time....unless it is the next plot)

C: boy and girl of rival families who hate each other (rival business, family feuds, whatever) and fall in love but have to hide it from the family. Spoiler alert...in the rom-com version of this they don't commit suicide. They usually all become friends and the couple marries.  

4. If a father is sports-minded, his son will want to go to Art School. 

5. Similarly, if the son is NOT sports-minded he must want to go to Art School.

6. Deciding to get married is "taking a chance". If it is the right person, you will just know, and then live happily ever after. Unless you are unlucky and your spouse decides they really hate dogs. Then you are out of luck. Shouldn't have taken that chance, huh? 



Wednesday, October 26, 2016

How To Be Popular And Win Lots of Influential Friends

Do you ever wish you had MORE friends? Even if you are lucky enough to have an Ethel or two, you may find that those close friends live too far away for lots of interaction, even in the land of the internet.

Well, I have discovered a way to make LOTS of VERY INFLUENTIAL and IMPORTANT friends in HIGH PLACES!

Okay, I didn't actually DISCOVER it. It as been around for about 2000 years. BUT, you may not know about it.

I can selflessly share it with you only because there are so many of these friends to be had that I know we won't be stealing from each other or anything. And you can even acquire these friends if you don't live any where near a cemetery!!

Have I creeped you out yet? It IS almost Halloween!

Don't be creeped out, though. This is the perfect time of year to begin gaining influential friends and to become popular in heaven.

So, here is how it works for us. We have trained our kids to do most of the work.

Each Sunday, on our way to church (a 50 minute drive) we pass at least two cemeteries.  The first one is a very small and old country cemetery with no sign, just a beat up iron fence and scattered headstones about the field. The kids will stop whatever conversation is going on and say "The cemetery!!!" and then begin to pray:

Eternal rest grant unto them and let light perpetual shine upon them, may they and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. 

Then they add a few names of our family and friends and we go back to conversation or whatever we are listening to on the iPod. We will pass another one within the first 20 minutes of our drive. By the time we have reached our parish church we have established "a bond of unspeakable sweetness" with lots of people whose names we will someday know.

"Here is an easy means of surrounding ourselves in eternity with many grateful friends, whose gratitude will augment our glory in paradise: for we can make all the friends we wish in purgatory. What we shall have done for them on earth shall establish between us and them, in eternity, a bond of unspeakable sweetness. God will reveal to them the good we have done them and they will know us to eternity as their benefactors. We shall find them crowding around to intercede for us when we come before the judgment seat of God."
(from Purgatory and the Means to Avoid It by Father Martin Jugie as quoted in the November Magnificat) 
With All Soul's Day coming up on November 2 it is the perfect time to start your campaign for friends in High Places. Of course, with All Saint's Day is just the day before, you can do those friends even bigger favors by asking the intercession of the Big Shots in Heaven on their behalf.

So, when Joe Schmo walks through the pearly gates and meets St. Thomas Aquinas who says "I know all about you, my good friend (fill in your name) told me all about you!", Joe will be very thankful for his good friend in that lower place.