Happy Mother's Day

This was a busy weekend -- rugby match (semi-finals ... Bishops won so we'll go to the state finals this coming weekend), extra choir practice, fighting traffic (Michael said more people go out to celebrate Mother's Day than Easter), plus a birthday girl in our family. I love that she shares her birthday month with one that honors Mary, who is also our Mother. For those of us who've lost our mothers, Mary is especially close. I often imagine my mother in heaven enjoying her company! I like that we sing Salve Regina at the close of every Mass in May and October. I wish we sang Ave Maris Stella more often, especially since our Church is named Stella Maris!

Max is 2 yrs, Dagny is 2 mo old

5 yrs later: Dagny 5, Max 7

10 yrs later: Max 17, Dagny 15

See how the years fly? The next time I blink, they'll be flying the nest. How I love being a mother! I cannot truly express my joy. I am grateful I've been able to stay home with my children, watch them grow, have a hand in shaping their character. I am deeply grateful for my husband, who made a mother out of me (it's not called Holy Matrimony for nothing) and supported me. He was delighted that I wanted to stay home and didn't push me to work. I know several of his colleagues who thought it was the stupidest thing because I could've been raking in 100K a year working at a biotech company. But they don't realize that being with your children is more important than money.

Alright, since I'm feeling far too sentimental, it's probably a good idea to read BABIES: An Unsentimental Anthology by Iona and Peter Opie. This is a book that will make you laugh and let all parents feel better when they discover that the baby you so longed for isn't a little angel all the time. Here's one of the tamer traditional poems:

Oh! let me kiss the baby
Once more before I go;
Oh let me kiss the baby
And bite his little toe.

I've known this phrase for the longest time: The Hand that Rocks the Cradle is the Hand that Rules the World. But I never knew it was a poem by William Ross Wallace (1819-1881) until now. To all mothers -- this is for you with all my best sentiments!

BLESSINGS on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace.
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;

Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy’s the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mothers first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow—

Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission,
Here upon our natal sod;
Keep—oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!

All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky—

Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.