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1. The dog pooped by the front door last night.

“You gotta come see this,” my husband hollered across the house. I was sitting at the dining room table finishing my wine and pasta. A few of the boys were finishing homework.

“No thanks?” I said between bites. Seriously. No thanks.

“Um, there’s worms in there.”

Chairs screeched across the floor as boys catapulted themselves away from the table to go get a look.

I opted not to follow.

2. A while later, after all the excitement had died down, I went to the computer to google “worms in dog poop” which comes up surprisingly fast. I only had to type “worms in…” and thankfully my choice was the dog option and not some of the other hideous afflictions.

“It sounds like,” I started to call to Paul, and before I could finish my sentence he was standing next to me, placing a ziploc baggie on the desk.

“This is what they look like,” he said.

“How in the heck did you get those things in there?” I was equal parts disgusted and impressed. Had he really done the unthinkable task of picking them out of the poop?

“They just started crawling away, so I captured them.”

3. So obviously, we’re off to the vet at some point.

4. Unfortunately, we have a previous commitment of waiting here at the house between the hours of 8 am and noon when the appliance repairman is coming to fix my washer.

5. Yes, it started punking out the other night when I set it to turbo-mega-hot wash cycle (my standard choice). Thankfully I discovered that the machine worked fine on Mere Mortal Status, so I’ve been able to keep the wash moving through, just not using the high high heat option I prefer.

6. So the dog has to wait. The men are on their way and as soon as they leave, we’ll head out with the dog. I sure hope I get my ducks in a row before anything else crazy comes up.

7. But in the end:

Can I get an Amen?

Go see Jen for more, less icky quick takes.

Our oldest son got his driver’s permit the other day, and just like you I’m wondering why they let six-year-old boys behind the wheel.

Wait, what? My son isn’t six? You mean he’s actually old enough to be doing this? That’s just not possible, because that would mean that I’m old enough to have a fifteen-year-old, which means I’m probably no longer 23.

How did that happen?

Life is funny that way. One minute you’re listening to the parents of teenagers marvel that their babies are old enough to drive and suddenly, you’re one of the marvel-ers. It’s like somebody put your life on turbo-speed and you go from trying to figure out how you’ll finagle grocery shopping with three toddler boys to cheering as those boys intercept a basketball and score a three-pointer, just like that.

The lesson, of course, is to learn to enjoy the moment. Life is filled with millions of them, sweet simple series’ of seconds that encompass our days, weeks, months. And so often we miss out on the wonder and beauty of just living life because we’re thinking about the future.

And then, bam. The future is here.

Grace is really the only answer to that pressing question: how? How do we enjoy the beauty of this moment, right here, without getting bogged down by worry or fear? Or even bogged down by responsibility? Because a good parent is one who is thinking about tomorrow, about caring for her children, about making sure that the choices we make today will help our children’s future.

It’s that great mystery of working like it depends on us, but praying like it depends on God.

When I start spending too much time thinking about things, that’s when I get in trouble. And yet, I have to think. I can’t blindly bumble through life with no plan. My husband and I need to talk about our goals and hopes and dreams for this family, or we might miss out on what we need to do right now.

But too much of that will overwhelm us. And it will give us a false sense of security — that if we plan everything just so, if we remember to dot and cross and underline as we should, that we are somehow guaranteeing things will go the way we plan.

The danger is that we start to look so hard at what is ahead, that we miss the right now.

The other day on the way to Mass, my son, with his newly-minted permit, was driving us on the early-morning roads. It was foggy, and we both noted, about the same time, that you could see perfectly clear — as long as you didn’t try to see too far ahead. The two of us could only stay focused on the road directly in front of us; looking way down the highway was futile and scary — we couldn’t see a thing.

As a driver, my son learned an important lesson that day — stay focused, look at what’s in your view. Don’t waste your energy trying to see a mile down the road. Be aware of where you are right now.

As his mother, I was reminded of the same. My job is to be present. My vocation is to care for what God has put here in front on me, right now in this season. And my goodness these seasons go fast. They are rapid and intense and taxing and overwhelmingly fun.

But only if I’m remembering to enjoy them.

I have to stay focused on what is within my vision, to really see what’s right there in front of me. Looking far off down the road doesn’t do me any good. It only robs me of my peace and joy, of the grace that God so generously wants to give.

This originally appeared in The Southern Cross.

we ask that everyone make a donation to Isabel’s future therapy bills.”

I’m thinking that will go on her two-year-old birthday invitations.

Henry, upon seeing this doll: Who did that?

Me: Charlie.

Henry: Why?

Me: I’m not really sure.

Him: He was trying to make her look awesome?

And then Ethan, a minute later:

Him: Wow.

Me: I know. We need to get that off…

Ethan: before Isabel sees it? But you gotta admit it’s pretty beast.

My husband deserves his own separate post, a public letter of gratitude for how wonderful he is.

I always get a little shy talking about Paul. I take the “she pondered these things in her heart” approach when it comes to this man I love so much. So don’t worry — this won’t be all drippy sweet. But I couldn’t skip over him in light of all the activities of last week, because I love him and he is worthy of my praise (um, I know. That’s actually a praise and worship song and now I’m getting carried away).

Ah shucks. I STINK at this.

Sorry baby. I just wanted to say thank you — thanks for your support and encouragement. For helping me push myself when I’m inclined to hunker down and just work on the laundry — which would be plenty! And noble and good. But you always help me think through what God is asking of me, and not just what is convenient for you. Because goodness knows it costs you something when I’m not here. And you manage it all beautifully.

Oh and thanks for the flowers. You are the best.

Home is where I want to be!

I was on the road all last week! Can you believe that? I can’t either. I was up in Boston filming The Gist! And then on the way home stopped off in Greenville to speak to a wonderful group of women for a morning of reflection. It was fun.

Last week was probably one of the most epic weeks of my life. That sounds over the top, but it’s true. I can’t even do a play-by-play, but what it involved, in my “Rachel’s List of Things on the Horizon” was plenty. The way I manage big things in my life is like a mental timeline. I’ll look out at the week (or day) ahead, and pinpoint the exact things that are causing me stress, anxiety, excitement or (as it often tends to be) some combination of the above. Last week was a constant with those.

Here’s what the week looked like, in my mind: pack kids. make schedule. spend time with kids. GET UP EARLY TO CATCH PLANE. land in Charlotte. land in Boston. TURN ON PHONE TO SEE HOW MOM’S SURGERY IS GOING. catch ride with Danielle. get to television station to start taping. HAIR. MAKE IT LESS BIG. start taping. stop taping. hotel. sleep. up. eat. MEET KIND WOMAN WHO WILL DO YOUR HAIR. film more of The Gist. change. film more of The Gist. dinner. sleep. ARRIVE AT STUDIO TO DO ON-AIR INTERVIEWS. finish up taping season one of The Gist. take taxi to airport hotel. GET UP EARLY TO CATCH PLANE OH MY GOSH IT SNOWED DURING THE NIGHT. get on plane. get de-iced. fly to Greenville. meet super cute gals at church. have dinner with them. GET UP EARLY TO SPEAK AT RETREAT. get on plane. GET HOME AND SEE YOUR MOM AFTER HER MAJOR BREAST-CANCER REMOVING SURGERY.

and we’re done.

(p.s. I don’t really think you read all of that paragraph but it’s so therapeutic for me to write it and lucky you you can skim over whatever seems boring and uneventful.)

Synopsis: last week was busy and good with so much going on. I am blessed beyond words to be a part of this television show, I love hanging with my wee little pals Danielle and Carolee and Kate because I won’t lie, they are fun and smart but also I love the way they all think I’m so TALL. Because, um, not always. I have a picture from my super tall 6’5″ brother’s wedding (the one where he married the 6’2″ girl) and compared to my sister and sisters-in-law and the other bridesmaids I look like someone plopped the mom from the Loving Family into the picture. So when I’m up there taping the show and they say things like “you’re so tall!” Well it’s just music to my vertically-challenged ears.

I got back Saturday night. My dad picked me up at the airport because there was basketball doncha know, and it was an exciting and important game. It was fun to see my dad waiting for me there, after being gone so long. We just started smiling and waving from about a mile away. My dad dropped me off at the gym and oh my goodness it was nice to see just how much my family missed me. Each boy gave me loooong hugs and told me (outloud!) how much they missed me, how glad they were to have me home. It felt good to hear those words. I know that’s the truth, but in this world of boys and young men, when they take the time to articulate those feelings, it does my heart good.

I had to scoot home during the game and I popped in on my mom. And she looked beautiful and is doing great and all the wound-up-tight feelings that would come and go during the week finally deflated. I made it through. My mom made it through. The traveling and the show and the talk and the being away from my family and my mom having a bilateral mastectomy — it all came and went. And yes, my mom still has some fighting to do and some challenges ahead. But seeing how well she is doing now just makes me so darn proud of her, and of my dad. They are rock stars.

And now I’m back. Here in my home. Tonight we were settling in after a basketball game and all of us were standing around in the kitchen getting post-game snacks and dinner, apple slices for Henry’s storytime with daddy. And I said to Paul, “does it feel different having me home.” And his smile and sigh spoke volumes. I noticed the boys lingering close to me, telling me stories, playing songs for me on the guitar. It was perfection.

I wish I always felt acutely aware of the goodness in my life, the way it feels on these days, when you are home from being away and it all feels fresh and new.

But either way, I’m enjoying it right now.

Unrelated, this picture of Isabel at tonight’s game:

for some reason reminds me of this:

name that movie

Just a quick note to let you know that I will be speaking at the Women’s Day of Reflection in Greenville, NC this Saturday, January 21.

The gathering will be from 8 a.m. to noon at St. Peter’s Catholic Church. There will be a talk by me, followed by some time of reflection and discussion, maybe some Q and A but no line dancing. I promise.

Also, I’ll have copies of my book How Do You Tuck In A Superhero? and if you buy one I’ll be happy to sign it!

If you have any questions, contact Josie at jsharz at gmail dot com

apropos nothing, except he’s super cute

Eggs were the main course at Chez Baldooch this evening. Eggs wrapped in tortillas. I think wrapping things up like a burrito makes them more special and eggs and bacon is no exception.

So tonight I basically served my family the Sausage Burrito off the Dollar Menu at McDonald’s.That’s where I got my inspiration anyway. Imagine my extreme pride and immediate embarrassment when I realized that my dinner was a Mickey Dee’s knock-off but I had pride in my ability to make it better.

“Wow,” I thought, biting into the delicious eggy goodness, “this is way better than McDonald’s.”

Go Rachel! Next thing you know you’ll be living in a beige-colored Cape Cod on Martha’s Vineyard. How great is that?

Tonight, however, instead of lowly old sausage, I used bacon. That’s right, the nectar of the gods.

So I fried up a pound of bacon — and can I admit right now that I don’t do this nearly often enough? As evidenced by the fact that instead of the word “pound” I was tempted to write “thing” or “container”, as in “a container of bacon,” which sounds a lot better than a container of ice cream, in some circles anyway.

I asked Charlie, as I was assembling these things of beauty, if he wanted bacon on his burrito.

“Sure,” he said, “but how many pieces do we get?”

“Everyone gets two,” I told him.

“Well, wait,” he answered, “yes to bacon on burrito, but only if it doesn’t come out of my bacon paycheck.”

Related:

The end of a long day in the stretch of days that is Christmas Break — well that is no time to start analyzing your life. Results may include crying, wailing and gnashing of teeth.

Sadly, I forgot this important rule recently when I found myself doing just that — tallying  my trials and tribulations (so vast were they!) at the end of a long day. But it wasn’t just any long day; it was one of those days in a series of long days. I love Christmas Break, really I do. But you combine the need to get things ready for Christmas with the need to stay sane and it can be quite challenging.

It all goes back to that essential life lesson with boys that is: boys do better when they have stuff to do. This should generally not include watching large quantities of television or playing large quantities of video games. Stuff for boys should include being outdoors and doing the two things they love best: building things and destroying things.

But I fell into that trap of bad weather and lots to do and feeling a little overwhelmed I just let people channel their inner couch potato and the results were none too pretty.

In the midst of this, my brother and his precious, sweet not-yet-one-year-old son were over for the afternoon. That visit ended up including dinner, and my mom and dad also joined us. So there I was entertaining guests (who aren’t really guests but are people in my home and I want them to feel welcomed) in the midst of dealing with my crew of rowdy boys.

And lo and behold, I started feeling sorry for myself.

“My life is so hard,” I mentally whined, “everyone else has it so much easier than me.”

And in that moment, maybe I was right. I was trying to feed people and calm people down and deal with tired people and hungry people — and I was *this close* to losing my patience.

Somehow — God’s grace — I made it through. In the end it was an hour, maybe a little more, that I suffered so terribly. After that, people helped with dinner clean-up, the little ones went down for bed, the big boys went outside to shoot hoops and I got a clearer vision of how much better things seemed on this side of the evening.

It’s never a good idea to take stock during a crisis — it’s fine to admit this isn’t your best moment ever. It’s important to recognize the ways you could make things more peaceful next time you’re in this situation. But comparing yourself to someone else, looking at why other people have a life more charmed than your own — you will never feel good about yourself when you do that.

A friend of mine once shared about the dangers of comparing our interior life with someone else’s exterior life. This is what we do whenever we compare. We’re stacking up the way we feel inside, our frustrations and exhaustion, and we’re putting it up against our perceptions of someone else. That’s not a fair (or smart) comparison.

Our best option is to avoid this trap altogether by praying for a heart of gratitude for our own circumstances, whatever they may be.

About a week later, I found myself on a hike with one of my dearest friends. There we were, me with my six children, she with her seven, and we watched our big boys lead the way in exploring God’s creation. She pushed a stroller and I carried someone on my back, and we soaked up the December sun and enjoyed ourselves.

That was probably a better time to analyze my life — when children were happy and in an element that best suited them. We were outdoors where we could be as loud and fast and free as we needed to be and I felt grateful.

Grateful for this life and these children and this fun, fast-paced scene I’m lucky and blessed to be a part of.

This originally ran in The Southern Cross.

Danielle has a link to a great commerical for an amazing new product that will make you look AWESOME!

It reminds me of our friends Rhett and Link and a similarly good idea they have:

Did I ever tell y’all about how we met these guys? We drove up to their “Moving to L.A.” sale and it was one of the craziest most randomly fun things we’ve ever done. The boys had a blast. We even bought one of those canvases from the video.

Henry was particularly excited about meeting them. It was pretty cute.