No news yet

That's right, there is no news yet.  I thought that this little baby might make an early entrance on Sunday as I spent much of the night lying awake with contractions; however, Pentecost was not meant to be a birthday in our family and I am still very much pregnant.  We had a bit of a heat wave over the past two days which drained me of all energy and had me wondering how I could possibly muster any strength to labour and deliver a baby.  The temperature dropped significantly today and my energy rose conversely.  Whew.  My mother arrives on Saturday and all the little ones are waiting anxiously for their Grandma Julie who brings ice cream, fun and more junk food than Mommy keeps around the house.  Hopefully she won't have to wait too long for her latest grandchild (no. 11) to arrive on the scene.

I have reached the point at which I am trying not to think about labour, especially the contractions that have me teetering on the edge between self-control and absolute panic.  This too shall pass.  I went to confession with my spiritual director on Monday night and when he assigned me my penance I said, "Why don't you just tell me to go through something really painful in the near future?"  He laughed and said, "That, my dear, will take care of itself.  Don't think, just be."  My penance was a lot softer than child birth.

I do have a prayer request for all of you blog readers.  Many of you know Fr. Joseph Hattie, O.M.I.  He has spent time on both of our coasts, serves as the spiritual director for the Billings Ovulation Method Canada and has brought countless souls closer to Christ.  He has been especially active in preparing couples for marriage and family.  Presently he is serving as chaplain to Our Lady Seat of Wisdom Academy here in Barry's Bay.  At the moment he is fighting for his life in the ICU at the Pembroke Hospital.  While awaiting general surgery he contracted an infection that spread to his blood and was diagnosed with a blood clot in his lung.  The situation is touch and go and any prayer is much appreciated.  I will keep you apprised of both Fr. Hattie's situation and ours as well.

Yes, we are a little crazy

 I debated the title of this post:  Yes, we are a little crazy; Some grainy photos of a momentous occasion; or, Where are Isaac's siblings?  Ultimately I decided on the first title because driving 1600km on a Thursday night and then 1600 km on the following Monday with two adults, one 20 month old and a 38-week pregnant mother is a little crazy.  However, we felt strongly about making it to the priestly ordination of a very good friend of ours (and former NET teammate); and so Dave, Dave's sister, Isaac and I made the trip to Halifax over the long weekend.  The drive was long and tiring and more than a little uncomfortable but it was well worth it.  And so I can now introduce you to Fr. Craig Cameron of the Archdiocese of Halifax-Yarmouth.  Wow.

 Here he is being vested by Fr. Zach Romanowsky.  Fr. Craig was a stylish layman and I imagine that he will be a stylish priest.  Well, at least his shoes will always be up to date.

 More Fr. Craig.

 Fr. Craig receiving the applause of the congregation.  The Basilica was packed that day and I would estimate that 60% of the congregation was under 35 years of age.  Both Fr. Craig and the congregation were a tremendous sign of hope for the Church.  The ordination brought tears to my eyes and heartfelt thanks that we were able to be there.  I had felt quite nervous about setting out on such a trek just hours before departure.  However, the Lord has ways of quelling our fears.  In my case, He has to speak very loudly.  So, along came a surprise visit from Fr. Hattie in the morning who blessed the van and prayed for our journey.  Shortly following our afternoon nap, Fr. Galen popped by to drop off some food and he gathered the family around the van and prayed for our safety and well-being.  Once we dropped the four oldest off at Dave's parents we stopped at Tim Horton's in Renfrew where we bumped into three members of Madonna House who offered to pray for our journey.  I definitely felt well taken care of.  To top things off, after the ordination we ran into the mother of Fr. Mike Goring (who was only ordained to the Diocese of Pembroke two weeks ago).  She, her husband and Fr. Mike had traveled to Halifax for the ordination of Fr. Craig.  She told me that she hadn't been able to sleep on Thursday night so she had spent the night praying for our travel.  Wow.  How can I doubt the Lord's care?

 During the ordination and the supper that night my parents looked after Isaac.  He enjoyed the beautiful weather as well as this little bike which he rode through the forget-me-nots in the back garden.  Ten years ago I wore those forget-me-nots in my hair when Dave and I were married.  Ten years later my fifth child rode a bike through them.

 Isaac really did miss his siblings.  Each time that he heard the sound of kids in restaurants he would pop up from the booth, wave and say hi hoping that he might recognise one of them as a brother or sister.  He did find this little guy in the backyard of my parents' neighbour's house.  Isaac stood so mournfully at the garden fence that the neighbours invited him over where he sat in the sandbox and threw sand onto their lawn.

 He eventually returned home where he posed for cute photos and ingested the chemicals from pressure-treated wood.

 Hi!

My parents' house is three stories, unlike our bungalow, so the view from my old bedroom was a real treat for this little guy.  Perhaps he imagined that he could spot his siblings from such a height.

So that I don't leave you wondering:  I came back from Halifax very pregnant, no worse for wear and hoping that this pregnancy goes overdue as the to-do list exceeds the time left on the baby counter.

Ben's birthday and a few tidbits

 I apologise for the grainyness of the photo, but it was the only shot in which I actually captured Isaac suspending himself from the chair's rockers.  He is a daredevil and having four older siblings seems to encourage his physical development faster than I could have anticipated.

 He also has a very special relationship with his older sister with whom he shares a bedroom.  They are listening to Johnny Cash on Dave's iPod.  I guess I can't keep them from growing up.

 An unbreakable bond between brothers:  all carefully controlled by a woman.

 And here is the birthday boy.  Benjamin turned 6 on the 9th of May and I kept all the kids home from school to celebrate.  This was his favourite present as he had begged for either a remote-control truck or a web shooter (a la Spiderman).  We opted for his first choice as I didn't want to imagine the house after  a day of web-shooting.

 He also asked for camouflage clothing.  He is a country boy through and through.

 I threw some Lego in there and he opened the present and said, "I didn't ask for Lego."  He smiled anyway.

 Yet another pair of camouflage pants and a jean jacket from my parents.  After Jacob and Hannah received jean jackets for their birthday he didn't want to miss out on the apparel; so, a jean jacket came in the mail from Halifax and he was all smiles.

He did smile for his cake but his eyes were closed so I included the second shot which was a bit more subdued.

Isaac enjoyed the cake.

And then the birthday food (cake, chips and hotdogs) made everybody sick.  Really.

Updates and a Funny Story

Somewhat boring updates:


Well, it's about time that I posted something; especially since every time I check this blog I notice how the baby counter is ticking closer and closer to one month.  Yikes.  We have been extremely busy lately.  The Billings Ovulation Method (BOM) teaching has taken off; and, at the same time, I am updating my accreditation by retaking the BOM correspondence course.  Sometimes I wonder if this is all too much, but then little confirmations telling me that I am on the right path come my way.  Studying and teaching while mothering five little ones and awaiting the arrival of the sixth is a new experience, to say the least.  I think, though, that my brain is appreciating the challenge and, hopefully, rising to it.

That aside, the weather is moving steadily toward spring with only one snow day last week!  Jacob is attending his first chess tournament today at the school where Dave previously taught.  Other than chess, the highlight of the tournament is the hotdog lunch.  Hannah is counting the days until summer vacation and the donning of shorts and flip-flops.  Ben's 6th birthday is quickly approaching (next Wednesday) and he is anticipating a camouflage-themed day.  (Camo was never a theme of my childhood; but, living in Barry's Bay, an affinity for camo shouldn't be surprising.)  Joseph has developed a new fascination with scissors and cardboard.  He spends the better part of each day cutting up cardboard (found in the recycling box) and fashioning it into necklaces, hang-gliders and finger puppets using packing tape and his own innovation.  Isaac is enjoying his last month as the baby and literally running into childhood.

And, how is the baby?  This pregnancy has been unlike any other pregnancy that I have experienced.  I have had contractions on and off since 32 weeks and spent a few hours late last night pacing the floor waiting for my uterus to calm down and allow me to sleep.  I have never had painful contractions prior to real labour in any of my other pregnancies so perhaps this baby will make an early appearance - most likely not.  I feel very ready to have this baby as she is positioned very low and I am increasingly uncomfortable.  Dave has told me that I have to wait until June as he has too much marking!

And now that the mundane updates are over, I will tell you a funny story.

Funny Story:

Last Sunday was First Communion Sunday at our church.   After mass, Joseph was desperate to use the bathroom and, since I have entered that stage of pregnancy at which urgency and bathroom are synonymous, I volunteered to take him.  Now, our church is an old church and the bathrooms are in the basement.  The men's washroom is located closest to the outside door and the women's is down a set of stairs, around a few dark corners and tucked into the corner of the basement dining hall.  I don't like going there.  It is too far way, too isolated and, frankly, scary.  So, I tend to use the men's washroom which, rest assured, is always abandoned and feels a lot safer.  Besides, I always have a little boy with me in order to validate my admission.  Also, please don't picture a modern bathroom, the sort that has stalls with metal doors outside of which people wait their turn.  No, this bathroom has an ill-fitted wooden door that swells with humidity and, if one closes it, one can assume that the next user will wait outside in the hall.  But remember what the bartender on Cheers always said about making assumptions:  ass (out of) u (and) me.

I usually run down to the basement to use the bathroom immediately after Communion under the guise of removing Isaac from mass.  The bathroom is not only abandoned but also pitch dark and, at first entry, I am cast into a subterranean blindness that makes me glad to have a male in toe, even if he is under three feet tall.  Now, for some reason, on Sunday I discounted the fact that the basement was filled with people attending the First Communion reception:  a good majority of those people men who needed to relieve themselves.   So, I rushed into the bathroom with both Joseph and Jacob and made sure that the outside door was firmly shut.  Joseph went to use the toilet in the stall and I followed him in case he needed help.  I also locked the door to the stall just in case someone happened to wander into the outer washroom uninvited.  After Joseph finished, I took a turn.  And this is where things went wrong.

Joseph decided that waiting for his mother was not an option; so, he crawled under the door and escaped out of the washroom leaving the outer wooden door wide open thus inviting in the men waiting outside in the hall.  And in they came.  A feeling of panic came over me as I peered under the stall door to see not one but four sets of men's shoes and one pair of little boy shoes either waiting for the stall or using the urinals along the wall.

I tried to calmly assess the situation rationalising that I could perhaps wait it out in the stall as there couldn't be that many men who needed to use the facilities.  I underestimated the bladders of the church's male population.  Not only were they many but they were full.  I began to wonder if anyone was confused by the red leather shoes that were visible under the door of the stall.  I reasoned that this pair of shoes were not decidedly feminine but could have easily been worn by an Italian male.  The men of Barry's Bay aren't that familiar with the bathroom habits of Italian males, so, perhaps they would accept that this particular Italian felt a great need to remain sequestered in his stall.

But then I remembered that Dave was waiting outside in the van with the five kids who were growing hungrier by the minute.  I decided that I had to act.  I weighed my options:
a.  Simply make a run for it while looking in the completely opposite direction of the urinals.
b.  Knock on the stall door and timidly say, "Ummm, excuse me..."
c.  Gather my confidence and boldly proclaim, "There seems to have been a mistake."

I was forced into action by yet another set of feet at the adjacent urinal accompanied by a pair of little-boy running shoes.  The little boy was clearly too short to use the urinal without a great deal of help and my motherly heart felt for him as I heard his father ask, "Do you want me to hold you up?"  I decided that I needed to act before the little boy was suspended above the urinal.  So, I chose a combination of b and c and semi-confidently said, "Ummm, excuse me but I was helping my son and now I'm stuck in the bathroom and I was wondering if I could maybe get out without embarrassing anyone."  Or something like that.

I could only assess the men's reactions by the flurry of feet that began to move, belts that started to jingle and flies that were quickly zippered to the accompaniment of nervous coughs and laughs.  And then I said, "Is everybody ready?"  Again, nervous laughter, coughs, a few yups and a loud giggle from my oldest son who (unbeknownst to me) was still waiting at the door, "Oh, Mom."  Buoyed by Jacob's presence, I opened the door and bolted for the hallway grabbing Jacob as I ran and mumbling, "The son I was helping was much younger than this one..."  The only face that I distinctly remember is that of one of the men who had recently attended the marriage prep that Dave and I facilitated.

And that's my story.  Yes, I will think twice about where I empty my bladder from now on.  No, I didn't see anything x-rated.  Yes, First Communion Sunday was a lot more exciting than some parishioners bargained for.