Into Great ___ness

i am not even fully conscious, right now, and merely hope that spilling out some of these thoughts will be a bit of a pressure valve: the dog has to go*my kid won't sleep*should i be this irritated when people refuse to spell Finn's nick-name the way i do?*i hate that my darling is so exhausted*i hate that i am so exhausted*why won't Finn sleep?*sometimes i don't hold my baby for a couple of hours and it bothers me*the dog is half of finn's world, in a way*i will be glad to be up and about again*especially if i can get some sleep*baby is crying; where is he?*if i read Guess How Much I Love You? one more time i'm going to wommit*ah, james herriot*movies are good, but even good ones are a waste of time*i admit that i will not miss the dog pacing and whining around the house*it's getting cold again*why won't Finn sleep?*here comes my baby . . .

. . . And Baby Makes Four

Welcome, Alastair Joseph! born on the Solemnity of St. Joseph, and i am so very awed that he gave our baby such a gift. i also am delighted to have another boy!
Alastair: Irish form of 'Alexander'; 'defender of men'
Joseph: for St. Joseph, naturally
6 lbs, 7 oz, 19-3/4 in.
as with Finn, the majority vote was "girl"; everything was completely different from Finn--pregnancy, labor, delivery, post-partum. he seems a very mellow fellow, crying only briefly upon birth and straight away settling into contemplation. Finn loves our baby, especially his nose:

already alert

Finn, can you say "Alastair"?
Nose!
Al-a-stair.
Bee! (baby)
Al-A-Stair.
Losh!
so baby "Losh" (sort of between "Lash" and "Losh", really). we are all well and happy, and i have thus far concluded that one main purpose of second babies is to let us know that, despite our vast experience as the mother of ONE child, we actually know nothing at all.
because let me tell you, feeling like one can be a "good mom" is *easy* when there is just one child involved. Finn is such a good, sweet, gentle, obedient boy, but he is still a boy, and a toddler. Alastair is a very laid-back baby, but he is still a baby, and i already see clearly how easy it is to become obsessive about mothering, demanding of myself that i meet every need of each child instantly. the reality, of course, is that at times one or the other is going to have to cry for a few minutes, that one is not going to be able to have momma, that both will have to realize that he is not the center of the universe and instant gratification does not, in fact, actually exist--especially  not in this family!
in other, slightly sadder news, our very brief dog days are at an end, as "Warla" learned she can jump the fence. my poor darling spent well over an hour chasing her around Fredericksburg yesterday, through construction zones and across busy streets and over the railroad tracks. which means not only that she must go, but that she will have to stay inside (excepting potty on a leash) for the next week. fun times. and so sad. i have wanted a dog for so long, and so very badly wanted my boys (boys!!) to grow up with one. it was such a gift for me to have that as a kid. c'est la vie . . . at least they'll have each other!

Serenity

because isn't that what lent is about, what sacrifice and waiting are about, anyway? but knowing serenity and feeling serenity--ah, now there's the rub. because i can know in my head all sorts of things: worrying about when this baby is going to come, about family logistics, about recovery and help and the dog and the arriving cat (!!!) and how my *very* momma's boy is going to adjust to a new baby and that he still wants me the vast majority of the time, even though he looks forward all day to his Daddy coming home. worrying about being very much the marching-to-a-different-drum factor in certain parts of our family and how that is going to play out.
when i pray to st. joseph, then, for instance, what does it mean if i still "feel" anxious? if the feelings of stress and anxiety still pervade the undercurrent of my being? how much is trust a "feeling," when it is these "feelings" that are causing the turmoil? this has been a somewhat debated question of late, and the answer to which i keep returning, with growing conviction, is that while feelings are, of course, important indicators in some sense, they are not really all that important in the spiritual life; i.e., if i "feel" anxious about something, choosing not to be anxious does not mean those feelings go away. i may still have feelings of worry, but they cannot be the guide by which i make my decisions or the source for my will, my choosing. those fickle, fickle things! that can be beautiful, ugly, terrifying, restless . . . perhaps one way in which we will be restless until we rest rest in God since, for some, our emotions will lead us until grace and virtue restore the prelapsarian heirarchy with the will as leader.
and when i start writing like that, i know it's time to stop.

nostalgia of a different sort

God i remember feeling this way so strongly. Thank You that You wanted more for me than i wanted for myself.

but isn't that the way it so often goes? we think we are so certain, and that we know exactly what we are willing to sacrifice, and He wants a different sort of sacrifice--the sort of suffering that brings joy and salvation, not the pleasure-tinged pain of indulging whims and half-understood heartbreak.
but it's still a great song, and perhaps a risk that we take even without knowing it.