The day following my last post, my paternal grandmother died, and so continued the tumult of the previous few weeks. Another funeral, another burial, another 5-day work week for Danny (who works 12 hour shifts), car broke down on Sunday, and I broke down seconds later. When I dropped a full Sam's Club sized bottle (plastic) of maple syrup (the real stuff) on my kitchen floor the next morning, and the bottle (plastic) exploded a tsunami of sticky (the real stuff) all over my cabinets and floors and pajamas, I knew something was not right. I'm not known for my good luck, but this was an exceptional streak of misfortune that defied the laws of nature. When did it all start? When Danny and I decided to join our church, we were way-laid for the following month with recurring bouts of illness. And when we made our commitment to missionary-giving the following month, all the other madness ensued. I found myself trudging forth, day in and day out. I'd sink or stumble and pick myself up again-- there was no other choice. But I was out of steam. And the enemy made a grave error and showed his face. I've always believed in spiritual warfare, but I'd never experienced it like this. "Ooooh, Satan, you are in so much trouble!" I said out loud. Call me crazy, but I believe the Bible when it says,
"... be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand."
Eph 6:10-13
What is the armor of God?
The "belt" of truth buckled around your waist, the "breastplate" of righteousness, "feet fitted" with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace, the "shield" of faith, the "helmet" of salvation and the "sword" of the Spirit, which is the word of God (v. 14-17). Truth, righteousness, readiness and helmet I had ok. But I was not aware that the force behind the pummels was an actual being engaged in attack; my shield was not always positioned for defense and my sword, well to be quite honest, I was nowhere near it. I left it under the stack of clothes to mend, overdue library books, and recipes I someday intended to try out in my crock pot... you know, all those things that had been abandoned in the corner while I was driving back and forth from Miami. Being armed doesn't make you immune to attack, but it gives you a fighting chance to stay on your feet.
With the days getting dark so early, I usually don't know what to do with myself come 5 pm as the sun starts to set and Danny still won't be home for another 2 and a half hours. I decided to make last night's evening activity a really long bath. For fun, I tossed in one of those grow-in-water animal things that I've always wanted to play with myself. I left Dominic and Noemie to their bath games while I went to start dinner. When I returned, I found the water to be really cloudy (though the snake was the same size as I left it), and Dominic and Noemie were blowing bubbles into the water. This seemed like a terrible idea to me as I wasn't even sure you were supposed to bathe with those kinds of toys so I drained the water, refilled the tub, and got rid of the snake.
Noemie was an odd shade of green as she ate her Cheerios this morning, complaining of being cold until she fell asleep at the table. I laid her in my bed as I started to get the other two ready for the Children's Christmas Program rehearsal at church. I had a head start and instructed Dominic to dress himself as I fed and changed Toby and picked out clothes for myself and Noemie. Twenty minutes later, Dominic was still in his pajamas, trying to engage me in any conversation but the one most immediately pertinent, why wasn't he dressed yet? Running out of time and most certainly out of good humor, I put his pants on and told him to put his shirt on himself as I went to get Noemie. I found Noemie in my bed, fast asleep. And covered in vomit. Ok. I'll go ahead and take the super mom credit just this once. I woke Noemie, put her in the shower (screaming), and washed her down (whilst holding my breath), combing Cheerio puree from her hair and out of her ears. I swooped her into the bedroom where Dominic was still wandering around in only a pair of pants, "thinking". I am the fortunate mother of a thinker. I dressed Dominic and Noemie simultaneously and told them to put their shoes on as I ran off to my room where I now had 5 minutes left to get myself ready and strip the bedclothes. I returned to the kids room, now 10 minutes past my intended departure time where neither of the kids were wearing socks or shoes and the baby was now asleep. And I sighed. Noemie threw up again in the car on the way to church, this time into a library book. It was all slightly reminiscent of when Dominic ate two packs of chewing gum just a couple of weeks ago...
Thanksgiving this year was held at my mom's house with, as usual, her cousins from her mom's side. Danny's brother, Diego, and his parents were also with us. I made four casserole dishes overflowing with scapece di zucca (marinated butternut squash) which, while quite the yummy dish, was a little more than necessary. About three casserole dishes more than necessary. 
In preparation for the day, Dominic and Noemie prepared a paper chain, where they identified some of the things they're thankful for like Danny's job, a new car, and the ability to write (Dominic) as well as food, cats and babies (Noemie). Dominic wrote all the words out himself (with some difficulty...those "G"s are a bit tough)! We stayed in Miami an extra two days to go to Danny Villa de Rey's annual UBC-Reunion/Birthday party. We came home for a night and were back in Miami that Monday for Danny's other brother, Jonny's, birthday party, complete with traditional Venezuelan birthday song-that-never-ends, and Danny with upper respiratory tract infection. Dominic and Noemie are singing in the church's morning worship service on December 12. The following Saturday and Sunday evenings I will be participating in the church's Christmas Concert. With the alto section a bit scant these days (all the traveling and flu going around) I've had to work harder, scrambling to read the words, follow the notes, and watch those darn dotted quarter notes. Sight-reading music was never my forte. "I sing whatever you sing," the woman next to me said between songs. No pressure there. Danny's yuletide mood-setter: reading up on the origin of the season of advent.
Dominic and Noemie decorated our Christmas tree last weekend. Or should I say, a branch of our Christmas tree.
I get to see these faces every day. How very thankful I am!
Here's Noemie, the self-proclaimed royalty of our household sighing longingly as she gazes out of the window in her ballerina get-up. The drama. THE DRAMA! Perhaps, not unlike her mother who finds cream of mushroom so alusive...
Cristovan is six months old and it's raining milestones! In the past month, he has started solid foods (no on the peas) and Danny swears he was using sign language this evening. He doesn't crawl yet but he won't let that stop him from moving. Utilizing a roll-over-and-rotate combo, he can move about 3 feet in about 5 minutes. That's enough to be dangerous! Here he shows off his newest feat.
Dominic, the robot, gives Noemie, the scholar, a head massage.
P.S. Amy & Brandon are engaged to be married!
1 comment:
Anais,
I love reading your updates! Not the I relish in your difficulties but it is so nice to know that I am not the only one that feels at moments like I most certainly will loose my mind very, very soon.
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