Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, pages 506-507

“Well – now don’t get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea…He’s the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in…um…complementary medicine…I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies…well, they’re called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on – on Muggle wounds –”

Mrs. Weasley let out an ominous noise somewhere between a shriek and a snarl.  Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley; Bill muttered something about getting himself a cup of tea and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him, grinning.

“Do you mean to tell me,” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice growing louder with every word and apparently unaware that her fellow visitors were scurrying for cover, “that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?”

”Not messing about, Molly, dear,” said Mr. Weasley imploringly.  “It was just – just something Pye and I thought we’d try – only, most unfortunately – well, with these particular kinds of wounds it doesn’t seem to work as well as we’d hoped –”

“Meaning?”

“Well…well, I don’t know whether you know what – what stitches are?”

“It sounds as though you’ve been trying to sew your skin back together,” said Mrs. Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter, “but even you, Arthur, wouldn’t be that stupid—”

“I fancy a cup of tea too,” said Harry, jumping to his feet.

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny almost sprinted to the door with him.  As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs. Weasley shriek, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT’S THE GENERAL IDEA?”

Tate, as usual, is a great sport.  It seems like it wasn’t that long ago that I stood in my (nurse practitioner) friend Tiffany’s driveway, quizzing her on emergency rooms:  What emergency room would you go to for this or that?  What would you do if one of your kids broke a bone?  What would you do if one of your kids needed stitches?  Two stitches in Tate’s lip brings us to our fourth emergency room trip with children, in my book allowing us to now refer to Texas Children’s as TCH.  It’s a really wonderful hospital, but as I always say as we exit the parking garage, I hope we never have to go back.

The Big Questions

If you are a female who has been to even one women-only church event in your life, 100% chance you have talked about the Martha and Mary story.  (Summary for the menfolk who may not have heard this a thousand times:  Jesus is at their house, Mary sits and listens to him, Martha works in the kitchen and gets annoyed that Mary isn’t helping her, Jesus tells them that Mary did the right thing by listening to him.)  It’s the same questions every time.  Are you more of a Martha or a Mary?  How can we take time out of our busy lives to be less like Martha and more like Mary?  All I can ever think about is how all those people were going to want to eat anyway; someone has to turn on the coffee pot.

Here’s another question:  Are you more of a Laura or a Mary? 

Do you keep your sunbonnet on your head with the straps tied and keep your stitches tiny and even as you embroider a handkerchief?  Or do you throw your sunbonnet off so it hangs down your back as you secretly help your pa gather straw, subsequently keeping your family alive through a winter of relentless blizzards?

I like to think we’re all a little of both.  We’ll see which way Holly swings this summer.  The sunbonnet pattern is courtesy of The Purl Bee.  Thank God all my Little House books are previously out on loan, because I have a million books on my to-read list, but this sunbonnet would have sent me right back into that series again.

The most meaningful insight I’ve ever had from the Martha and Mary story came from a conversation with my [noted Luke theologian] sister Casey, sitting on the couch in my living room.  She said ignore the headings in the bible that divide stories and read them in context.  Mary and Martha comes right after the story of the Good Samaritan, and the stories go together.  The Good Samaritan is about how you should act with people, the Martha and Mary is how you should act with God.  So put that in your back pocket. 

Ninja Turtle Dog, Ninja Turtle Dog, What Do You See?

While our home is full of craft supplies and tools and there are typically projects in progress on any blank surface, I’m not great at sitting down with my kids to walk them through a project.  More often I have something I want to work on, so I’ll just get a pile of supplies for the boys and gather at the kitchen table so they can create something while I work on my thing.  Great for learning to be creative, not great for learning any specific technique. 

Recently, Rush has really be into art.  During what would have been naptime yesterday, I found him on the floor with felt, elastic, pinking shears, and glue, making a butterfly.  He appears to have a creative process similar to mine, which includes sitting on the floor in the middle of a big pile of glue sticks and paper or fabric, and seeing what comes together.  I’m so proud of him for being so creative, yet also feeling a little guilty for not sitting down with him to work on making butterflies (or whatever) together.

So while Holly was on her late afternoon nap, we all headed for the kitchen table.  Rush had asked questions about the pictures in a library book earlier in the week, so we sat down to make Eric Carle inspired art.

Rush loved making a “Ninja Turtle Dog”; Tate lost interest pretty quickly.

As Rush moved on to his flower, the situation, like all fun times, rapidly deteriorated into tears and shoving.  I started sweating (note to self- don’t make coffee in the afternoon when it’s hot outside) and getting annoyed that the bickering and cutting popcorn with scissors was keeping me from finishing my own project, which I had gradually started making instead of focusing all my attention on their projects.  Then, as it always goes when a box of crayons comes out, I outlasted both of them and sat by myself to finish up.

Structure is just another reason that school is a good thing.

Firsts

Holly tried her first “solid” food the other day.

It went well, but after trying again for the next two days and having her push it out of her mouth to suck on her fingers, we’re going to backtrack and wait until she seems more into it.

Holly also recently had her first visit to the zoo.  She decided to stay awake for most of the trip.

It was our second time to go to the zoo on a rainy day, and it’s not too shabby. 

I’m having trouble thinking in paragraphs right now.  Holly was the only one who napped today, so….time to post these pictures and move on.

Alleluia, Alleluia

The baptisms of my children are some of the most important days in my life.  And probably because I in some way grasp that, they are also slightly overwhelming.  I will cry through every single baptism I go to, even the ones where I don’t even know the people, maybe especially those because of the understanding of our connection in the Body of Christ.  But for my own children, there is so much going on (Did Tate really just jump right in front of the altar and rip his jacket off?) and as a parent or godparent, so many important vows to make (Will you be responsible for seeing that the child you present is brought up in the Christian faith and life?  I will, with God’s help) that I can’t seem to really let it soak in fully, in the moment.  I’m so grateful that every baptism includes a renewal of our own baptismal covenant, so that when I celebrate my nephew’s baptism next weekend, or the baptism of any child at any service, these baptisms tie to my children’s baptisms…and to my own baptism, and to all baptisms.  Alleluia, Alleluia.

In the wake of preparation and a full weekend, I’ve been rereading the service for Holy Baptism in the Book of Common Prayer-

We thank you, Father, for the water of Baptism.  In it we are buried with Christ in his death.  By it we share in his resurrection.  Through it we are reborn by the Holy Spirit.  Therefore in joyful obedience to your Son, we bring into his fellowship those who come to him in faith, baptizing them in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

Somehow each of our children’s set of godparents has seemed to be a perfect match for that child.  For Holly, her godparents are both people we met in our early days at Palmer and who have been friends to us from the beginning.  We ask a lot of godparents-

Will you by your prayers and witness help this child to grow into the full stature of Christ? 
I will, with God’s help.

I’m ever thankful for our children’s godparents for agreeing to take that on with us.   Helping a child grow into the full stature of Christ is way beyond the skill set of parents alone.  I’m thankful that everyone in the service vows to do all in your power to support these persons in their life in Christ.   

Family and godparents came over early in the day for brunch before we headed to the Easter Vigil service that evening.   I need to offer hearty and enthusiastic thanks for all the help in making the day possible. 

To my mom for making fabulous sugar cookie favors, to Trent’s mom for making her world famous sock-it-to-me cakes, to Kim for making extremely festive and cute cupcakes, to Kelley for being the Harry Winston of the family and keeping Holly in accessories, to Hunter, who I could hand a recipe to and say “please make this”, to Trent’s dad for hand washing all our dishes, to all our family for travelling and celebrating with us and supporting us in countless ways:  thank you!

One prayer from the service stood out-

Give them an inquiring and discerning heart, the courage to will and to persevere, a spirit to know and to love you, and the gift of you and wonder in all your works. 

Is there anything better than praying that for Holly, and for Rush and Tate, at their baptisms?  I’m thankful that was prayed for me at my own baptism.  I want to pray that every day, for everyone.  (When I say, “I want to pray that every day” don’t get the wrong idea that I’m actually doing it.  I would like to, yet historically I will forget.  The courage to will and to persevere?  Indeed.)

We could pretty much go through every part of the service and every part would be my favorite part.  Because what about this moment-

Let us welcome the newly baptized.  This is the point when people get overly excited and start clapping, forgetting that we welcome the newly baptized by first saying –and this makes me tear up every time-

We receive you into the household of God.  Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.

Then clap and give the peace.  The world needs more of this kind of joy.

I finally got why people will reach out to touch the Pope or travel hundreds of miles to see some earthly item.  Even today when the oil has long since soaked into her skin, I keep smelling Holly’s forehead, trying to inhale something sacred.  We just want to experience something holy.  It was a glorious Easter Sunday to smell the oil from her baptism each time I gave her a kiss.

Easter morning was as joyful as ever.  It was also a major miracle to me that we were able to make it to church on time and all the kids made it through the service.  I was laying awake at 4:30 in the morning in that odd mode of being too tired to sleep, fretting because getting everyone up and ready and to the service seemed impossible, but it all worked out.  After church, Tate really let loose holding Holly’s hands and dancing in the pews to the organ postlude.  Getting home and taking pictures with jackets, ties, and smiles, was honestly just too much to ask.  I’ll take making it to church over the photograph any day.