Oh ,Thomas.

A happy baby warms the heart. Thomas, we are so grateful for your smiling eyes.

 

 

 

 

Securian Winter Run

My first race back after Thomas was born was the Securian Winter Run.  James ran the half marathon and Pat, Dee and I ran the 10k. It's been a wildly mild winter and so perfect for me to be motivated to strap back on the running shoes. It was a fun day - so love that we have Pat and Dee in our lives. 

Running offers a great high (once you get into it a few miles) and at about mile 4.5 I found that wonderful moment where you feel joyful, great and inspired. When I get the runners high I immediately start writing letters to the kids in my head.  And this is what I thought about for the rest of the run: Running came to me at a perfect point in my life. Running taught me how to work through discomfort, how to deal with pain and frustration. Running is a great metaphor for life. 

Dee and I chatted about this after the race about how running can be so illuminating. In life at times we all feel winded, achy, exhausted. We watch people stride by us without even looking back. We face hills, driving winds, cold weather, hot weather and the limits of our own bodies. 

Yet, we have to find a way to work through it - and everyone does it differently.  I would say that Dee and I have similar coping techniques. Be gentle with yourself (no need to run until you get sick or hurt), challenge yourself (only you know where your limits really are), and sometimes you just need to hang on through the miserable parts because you know they don't last forever and then suddenly at mile 4 or 5 or 6 or 12 you come to the other side.  Without the struggle you'd never appreciate how great you feel, it gives you confidence to trust yourself, to give yourself time to be patient. You don't have to go fast, you don't have to win a prize, all you have to do is put one foot in front of the other at whatever pace it is that feels right for you. You may think you're racing someone else, but the truth is the best part of running isn't the start or the finish, it's the moment when you realize how great you really feel, how lucky you really are. For me what I learned in my running shoes has helped me face just about everything else.

I have to admit that I was sore for several days afterwards though. I never said it was easy...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kindergarten Round Up

I'm not sure if kindergarten is ready for MJ, but MJ is READY for kindergarten. For weeks she has been talking about going to Round-Up.  The day of - she tried on every costume in the house, pirates, princesses, fairies, cowgirl and of course Wonder Woman.  It was almost as if she knew that she was about to embark on a new phase of childhood where she got to "try on" all sorts of new roles and responsibilities. 

Kindergarten might seem sweet and simple to us grown ups, but for our kids this is their first big step out of the house and on their own (albeit for only a 6.5 hours 5 days a week). They get to find their own friends (who are not their siblings or the child of one of their parent's friends). They decided how they want to perform for another adult figure on a regular basis - the kindergarten teacher is like a second, (or third or fourth) parent so you'd better like her (or him). Fortunately, I love Gail Katenmaier. She's helped me become a better parent and our kids have blossomed in her classroom. 

MissyPie, I know fall seems like a long way a way - but I am so grateful to have this time together before you start school. This will be a special summer for us all. When in September the time comes for you to walk along with the boys, we will be proud to send you off on this new adventure, but know that I'll always remember how fun it was when you were just my Wonder Woman. 

XOXO

Each New Year

I've got so many ideas swirling around in my head that I want to get down before they're gone. I've got a few quiet moments while MJ is playing by the fire and Thomas is still dozing from our grocery store trip this morning. We're recovering from a flu bug that plagued us for the last few days and today I think (pray) that we've emerged victorious. So I've got lots of "to dos" on my list to get back on track but I don't want to miss taking the time to get a few words down for each of you.

Quiet moments of the divine.

There has been an article circling around Facebook among my parent friends about the difficulties of parenting and the frustration when older people tell you to "Seize the day and enjoy these young moments".  It clearly resonates with most moms and it is a lovely piece, but I also read an article titled "To the mother of only one child" today.  This is a piece from that article that really hit home with me:

"I’m broken in.  There’s no collision of worlds.  We’re so darn busy that it’s a sheer delight to take some time to wash some small child’s small limbs in a quiet bath, or to read The Story of Ferdinand one more time.  Taking care of them is easy.  It’s tiring, it’s frustrating, but when I stop and take a breath, I see that it’s almost like a charade of work.  All these things, the dishes, the diapers, the spills—they must be taken care of, but they don’t matter. They aren’t who I am.

To become a mother, I had to learn how to care about someone more than I did about myself, and that was terrible.  But who I am now is something more terrible:  the protector who can’t always protect; the one with arms that are designed to hold, always having to let go.

Dear mother of only one child, don’t blame yourself for thinking that your life is hard.  You’re suffering now because you’re turning into a new woman, a woman who is never allowed to be alone.  For what?  Only so that you can become strong enough to be a woman who will be left.

When I had only one child, she was so heavy.  Now I can see that children are as light as air.  They float past you, nudging against you like balloons as they ascend."

I don't know if when you grow up you will have a child or children (either by choice or by fact of life), but I want you to know that while you WERE children I did honestly treasure each moment. Even the hard ones. 

Two nights ago when Finn was in the throws of the flu, he was weeping and asking if God made people get sick. He asked this to me as he collapsed into bed with buckets and towels around him about 45 minutes after we arrived home from a quick trip to the lake. James was traveling for work, it was 8:45 on a school night, the kitchen was piled high with the scattered contents of the car. I took a deep breath and this is what I told him: That's a tough question, Finn.  I don't think that God makes us get sick, but I do think that sometimes sickness gives us the opportunity to see God a little more clearly.  For example, Mr. Finn, when you walked into the house and got sick, Seamus made sure to get all your toys out of the car for you. He raced back and forth from the very cold car to the kitchen unpacking with a worried face. Once I got you cleaned up and I was trying to get your clothes and towels into the laundry, Seamus offered to read you all stories while I was scrambling. I suggested we switch beds for the night so you didn't have to be on the top bunk and everyone immediately agreed. And now I'm looking at you and I can see how miserable you feel but also how grateful you are for me right now. I can feel how much you love me - and so this icky flu gave us this moment to rise to the occasion, to appreciate each other and to see a bit of God in each others' eyes. 

MJ's portrait of me.

I think what's been hitting me a lot lately is that I am so grateful for my life  - every aspect of it - our warm house today, the gift of a full cart of healthy groceries, these moments when I can write to future you - that even the tough stuff seems small in comparison.  We know a lot of people who have battled real sickness lately.  Kirsten and baby G are fighting cancer together (and doing well - but that doesn't make it any easier).  My friend Connie, Paula's sister was just diagnosed with cancer in her colon, liver, lung and pelvis and she's facing a hard road. All the people we know who are struggling even having that one child. I think about our Toms all the time. Life is short and sometimes death is sudden. And what it does to me isn't about creating fear - its about recognizing that I don't know if I'll be an old woman who can look back at these years with nostalgia, I obviously hope that I do, but I will honestly say that I missed very few moments to be grateful that I have you. To be grateful that I have your dad.  I wish very few moments away - because someday I'm afraid I'll want them all back. 

Best friends.

Here's the thing, running around the house the other night and even during our cabin get away, I realized something critical. I need you all. I couldn't have gotten everything clean up and pulled together without MJ entertaining Thomas, Seamus running back and forth from the car, and everyone doing the best to not fall apart. I told daddy the next day that I realize I am not always an easy person to help, but you kids seem to have the key and that is another thing for which I am grateful.

Seamus, you're starting 2012 with your typical bright eyes. Swimming is already fun and I think this will be a big year for you to grow and improve. You made your first reconciliation last week and it was a wonderful, special night. You were excited and nervous, but afterward you even seemed taller. You asked me at the cabin when we could go again and I said as soon as you want, so we're going to try and go to mass and confession some morning next week. Forgiveness is such a unique thing - it is wonderful to see you discover how good it feels to forgive and be forgiven. Remember that always.

Finn, this year is full of exciting firsts and so far your enjoying them all. You were nervous about swim team, but apparently that was all gone the moment you got in the pool.  You're loving it and I guess I'm surprised that you shook off your fears so quickly. You are always my surprising child. You are also so full of love right now - so many times in the last few days you've hugged me almost to death. Your big, brown eyes are so expressive.  I see love in you so often - and it fills me up.

Recovering from the Flu - but still her perky self.

Miss MJ, you found a special core of sweetness last year that carried me through my pregnancy in ways that you'll probably never fully understand. Your ability to be gentle and kind (and quiet) just when I needed it helped me so much. And for as sweet as you've become you are still a force of nature.  It is -10 here today. Do you think I can get you to keep your coat on in the car? "Mama, I'm just so hot!" You are just tougher than me sometimes too. You were the first to go down with the flu and the whole time you never complained.  In the car on the way to the lake you just asked for a clean bucket...

Mr. Thomas, we now think you are going to be another blue eyed boy.  But in the last few days, I can see that you look just like yourself. A little like each of the other kids, but now you are emerging as your own little man. You are my dream come true this year. And somehow parenting a fourth time is new and fresh. You will benefit from our experience as a family, we get better at loving each other every year, and now because of you we are filled with the kind of quiet love that only a new baby can bring to a home. All five of us are so excited to be with you on this ride.

James, this has been an interesting start to the year. Last year we wished so much for a baby and now here we are with Thomas.  I don't know what it is exactly that we're wishing for this year - maybe just more of the same family goodness we already have. Work has been trying for you lately.  Now that Dana is gone you seem to be wondering how to find your stride.  I know that you'll find it and settle in - but until then maybe we should take Bruce's advice: Pray, save for college and don't sweat the small stuff. It's good advice all around.

This year I want to run a race faster than I have in the past.  I want to be a better friend than I have in the past.  I want to grow TBPP a little (but not too much). I want to go on more dates with my husband.  I want to make lots of memories to be nostalgic about from my rocking chair. I want to spend time with my parents and be good to my siblings. I want so many things, but mostly I want to be present in my life, to live deliberately, and to be grateful for everything.

Paula, always the warmest dressed in the group!

Boy, Oh Boy.

So, can you tell which Dougherty boy is which?  I didn't realize how much they look alike until I started going through photos yesterday. ...

 

Mr. Thomas Gets His Baptize On

To Thomas on the Occasion of his Baptism, January 4^th, 2012

More than eight years ago, we wrote the first letter of this kind to your brother Seamus. And so we are here today with thoughtful consideration and a bit more experience.

When we sat down to write to you we said “When we think about faith, we think about being tested - we think about faith as an action now more than we used to.”  And so someday when you are old enough to read and to wonder, we hope that in these words you’ll see why we stood here today inviting you to share in this journey of faith.

We believe that all things come from God. When the doctor first rested you on my chest and we heard your happy crying. It was miraculous. In those precious first moments, we felt a divine blessing. Labor is hard work, but it is a good metaphor for the faith journey.  We were excited and scared, eager and impatient. Mom felt pain and elation, doubt and joy.

In life you will encounter miracles and you will face tragedy. Your very existence is a miracle to us and you are named for the two men whom we so loved but are now gone from our sight. Our grief is still fresh and new sometimes, but we embrace the best of our memories and rely on our faith to remember that at the end we will all be together.

We believe that in life, we are faced with two options: Believe or don't believe. We've chosen to see God not only in our greatest joy but also even in our profoundest sadness. Armed with faith, we know that there is no limit to love or to life.

When we wrote this letter to Seamus, we said that faith is the most important gift you can be given. But now we’d like to refine this idea – it is also an action, an effort, a choice that you will need to embrace every day of your life. Faith does not come in a box with a ribbon. It is something you must redefine, reapply, and recommit to continually. You "choose" your religion, your faith everyday. Today is just the first step.   We cannot tell you why bad things happen but we believe that no sense can be made or comfort can be found if we face life without faith.

We believe there is light in the darkness - and our calling is to find...to see...to be the light. Once you discover the light in your soul you will have the chance to be a beacon to your family, in your community and through the world. Trust in yourself and you will radiate light. Tiny as you are, you already do. 

To help you with your journey we have chosen your cousin Patrick to be your Godfather. He is a model of compassion and kindness, a man who has become a dear friend to both your dad and I.  In the last year we’ve become especially close and there are few people we admire more.  He will be someone that you have fun with, listen to music with (lots of music), someone that you will be able to talk with and most importantly someone who will unconditionally love you.

We have also chosen your cousin Danielle to be your Godmother.  She is woman full of energy, enthusiasm, beauty, depth and determination. She has been a critical part of our lives – offering support both practical and emotional. We are grateful for her friendship and indebted to her kindnesses.   She’ll be a person that you can trust, a person who will always listen and challenge you; she’ll be someone who will help you find your way.   And she will always be someone that makes you smile.

We picked Pat and Dee for you because they are also a good example of how beautiful marriage can be. They support each other, challenge each other and, as Grandma MJ would say, they love to have fun. They are special examples of  “being the light” in our lives. We believe that faith is a dialog and there are no two better people who communicate that than Pat and Dee.  We hope this is the beginning of a lifetime of conversation about faith and family for you all.

We believe in the unconditional quality of God's love. God loves us with all our failings, in spite of all our flaws, and that complete and unrelenting love is the model for our relationships. Our goal is to live a gentle, patient, loving life filled with gratitude and spirituality. We are not always successful but we learn a little more every year, we love a little deeper and we strive to live up to the examples given to us.

We believe in family. Be grateful for everything you are given, but most importantly, be grateful that you will learn love, by seeing it, feeling it, and living it with your family.  Your siblings already know that you are a precious blessing - soon you will see what a precious blessing they are to you.  Treasure them. As our parents believed in us, we also believe in you, in your inherent goodness. We promise to support you, guide you and love you unconditionally as you discover God in your life.  We will ask for Pat and Dee’s help (and we know we’ll have it).

May God Bless you Mr. Thomas, as he has blessed us with you.