Update

I have just finished compiling the list of all the emails belonging to those who want to keep reading once I go private. This was quite the task as it required pen and paper and, ever since the twins were born, my right hand likes to go numb whenever I grasp a writing utensil for extended periods of time. (Who knew that pregnancy can bring on carpal tunnel...) So, the list is ready. I just need to input it and send out a group email. I don`t know when I will do this - hopefully soon. But, as one good friend just reminded me: I am not procrastinating - I have a newborn. There are only a few readers who failed to provide me with an email. (I feel like a teacher writing out the names of the bad students on the board.) If the following could please send me their emails, I will add you to the list: My cousin Katie, Sr. Renee (Bernadette), Lindsay O., Natalie W., Faustina, Carly. Thank you so much.

Privacy

So, I am finally doing it. Going private. I will send out an email inviting all those who asked to be on the permission list to be on the permission list. There is one hitch though. In order to then read the blog, you will need a blogger account. So, if you don't already have one, go out and get one. It's not that hard. I would tell you how but I have a baby in my arms and I simply can type no more. If you need to contact me: elenaculshaw@yahoo.com.

Bad guys, backed-up septic systems and bandannas

One of the unique aspects of a rural school is its septic system.
Until six years ago I had seldom, if ever, considered a septic system. It was then that we moved into a 100 year old house on the outskirts of a serviced town that I was introduced to a life lived on a well and a septic system. Quite nice, really. Especially in light of the water bills that we now pay...
The cost of pumping the septic tank every two years or so is really quite minimal in comparison to the astronomical service fees levied by our municipality. Nevertheless, our small town's taxes and aqua costs are not the subject of this post. Dave's school is; or, rather, Dave's school's septic system will serve as a preamble to the reason for this post - which is really the necessity for adult contact in the life of a stay-at-home mom.
On Sunday night, when I was feeling a little overwhelmed at the end of a weekend, the phone rang. It was Dave's principal calling to tell him that the school's septic system had backed up and school would be cancelled the next day. Dave even had permission from the director of education herself to stay home the next day ... unless he wanted to report to his malodorous place of work.
Of course, before Dave actually got off the phone all I heard and saw was his end of the conversation which was entirely comprised of several OKs plus an ever-widening grin. When he turned to me and told me the news that our weekend had just been lengthened, I rejoiced with a short prayer, "Oh, dear Jesus, thank you for whoever forgot to pump the septic tank! Bless them abundantly."
So, the next day found me, Dave and the three youngest at home for the day. Joseph was the most confused as Jacob and Hannah had left for school and Daddy was still in his at-home clothes.
Joe: "When are you leaving?"
Ben: "Hey! Dad forgot to go to work."
(Isaac: "Milk.")
It is very rare that Dave ever gets to experience my Monday to Friday life: a little like a hermit amongst Lilliputians. It was at lunch that the details of my weekday life became most evident. I was eating lunch at the table with Joseph and Benjamin while Dave was in the kitchen listening to our conversation.
Now, before I document our dialogue, I should tell you that Joe and Ben have a preoccupation (read: obsession) with bad guys, criminals and police. Whence this comes, I know not. They are constantly chasing each other while wearing bandannas wrapped around their mouths (and sometimes their eyes as well), throwing eachother to the ground and attempting to tie one another's hands behind their backs. (I swear that all they watch on TV is Franklin and the Berenstain Bears.) Joseph also wears part of a bumblebee costume which, when I asked, he told me was very effective in scaring bad guys. They constantly warn me that certain parts of our house are excessively dangerous and that only small teddy bears and baby jaguars can approach these rooms. Anyway, this all serves as background to the following conversation.
Joe: "I am going to kill the criminal!!"
Me: "I don't think that you should kill anyone, Joe."
Joe: "But he's a bad guy!"
Me (cognisant of venturing into moral philosophy.): "Yes, but we shouldn't kill people just because they are bad."
Ben: "But they are bad so we must kill them."
Me: "Perhaps we should just put them in jail? Maybe you could do that instead of always killing people everyday?"
This reasoning went on for a while until Dave chimed in.
"Elena, is this what you talk about at lunch every day?"
Me: "Umm, pretty much."
Dave: "Oh."
Me (moral philosophy again?): "Do you understand now why it's so important that you call home at lunch?"
Dave (aware that his status as a 'bad guy' hinges on the appropriate answer.): "Ummm, yeah."
Thank God for backed-up septic systems.

Sibling Love

What we're doing around here

Isaac in his 'night-bag'

Washed Clean

Why, ringing the bells of course. The tradition in our town upon the baptism of a new member of the Church is to ring the church bells to announce another little soul washed clean. Isaac is the first of our children to be baptised in St. H`s; thus, he is our first child who has ever had the church bells rung upon his baptism. It is truly a wonderful tradition that interweaves our faith with that of the life of our small town. I was especially tickled that our priest let the children do the ringing. Jacob was even lifted off the ground once the bells really began to toll. And, here is our priest. I can't complain about our parish priest - he is the best sort and was more than willing to accommodate us for a last minute baptism. We had Isaac baptised at only three days as my mother was still with us and his godparents happened to be passing through town. Thus, circumstances allowed for a very early baptism that more than removed the worries of a big party and display from my shoulders. The only people present at the baptism were our family, Isaac's godparents and their family, Dave's parents, my mother and our priest. The intimacy of the affair allowed me for the first time to really savour the words, prayers, rituals, sounds and smells of a Catholic baptism. Fr. S was also wonderful at explaining the event to our children and allowing Jacob and Benjamin to act as altar servers.

Joseph spent the majority of his time asking to hold the baby or alternating between eating the baptismal font and trying to pull it over. How true that Catholicism is a very sensual religion.

Isaac anointed with oil, washed clean by water and basking in new-found sanctity.

Fr. S. silently praying for vocations to the priesthood. Note the smile. Isaac`s godfather is in the background looking very godfatherly.

Fr. S., our family and the E. family. The E. family are good friends of ours from the big city. They were married six months before us and started their family with identical twins six months before our fraternal twins arrived. We are godparents to their fourth born and are deeply grateful that our families are so intertwined.

And here they are with their newest godson.

Jacob helping Fr. S. snuff out the paschal candle.

Hannah holding a saint. Isaac is found in her arms much of the time.

I had to include this picture because it cracks me up. The E. girls are looking shy and demure as they are unknowingly framed by our boys who are simultaneously sliding down the rail (right, yellow crocs), jumping with wild abandon down the stairs (left, red crocs) and needing to pee (centre). Complementarity of the sexes.

And now I must go as the newly baptised has not been washed clean of the need to wail.

Any Guesses?

The Life of a Newborn

A Special Birthday

****I am still going to make the blog private; however, circumstances have left me little time to compile my list of email addresses and do the deed. Nevertheless, I will soon find the time and I will post instructions on how to access the new private blog. I haven't responded to any comments, emails or Facebook messages asking to be included as a reader. However, I will include all of you who have written to me asking to be placed on the permission list. I might have to contact a few of you if I don't have your email addresses. That's all for now.****

Dave turned 34 two days after Isaac's birth. My mother, who is mercifully still with us until Thursday, made a beautiful cake with Hannah and we enjoyed a wonderful supper. Dave, above, with his five children. Dave, below, with his most faithful follower: Sammy.