So small...

    A friend of mine recently shared a story with me of a tour she took of the astronomy department at a prestigious English university.  She described a map of the sky that included hundreds of pinpoints of light that captured her attention and she told how she stopped and stared at it contemplating the stars each dot must represent.  She inquired about the map and the stars but was quickly corrected by the experts; the map showed galaxies not stars, she was informed.  Each pinpoint of light indicated the existence of a whole galaxy of stars and heavenly bodies, not simply one isolated star in the vastness of space.  There are, as she was told, more galaxies than can ever be counted.  I listened to the story as shocked and amazed as my friend had been when she originally encountered that map years ago.    
    My children love big numbers.  They are fascinated by the names and interested in learning more about them.  So, one day, a few years ago, we set out to find out as many really big numbers as we could.  We went beyond millions, beyond billions, even beyond trillions in our search.  We came across the number googol.  A googol is the number represented by a one followed by one hundred zeros.  My kids loved that number and I would hear them say things like, “I am a googol times better at checkers than you are!”  After playing around with the concept of a googol for a while they were interested in finding out even more big numbers.  Even bigger big numbers, that is.  So we looked further and found that there is a number called googolplex and it is the number 10 to the googol power.  Now this really was beyond my own understanding and, therefore, way, way beyond that of my children but they decided they loved googolplex about a googolplex times more than just plain old googol, if you follow all that!
    I remember as a child, myself, learning that both numbers and the universe are infinite.  Infinite, as in never ending.  Never.  They both just go on…forever.  I could not grasp the enormity of it all.  I could not really imagine never ending.  I kept thinking there has to be an end, somewhere.  But then I would wonder, if there was an end what was beyond that?  I would think about it sometimes and my mind would just be boggled by it all.  I felt so small as I imagined the unending universe surrounding me.
    I was doing my nightly scripture reading last night and came across the following, in the book of Wisdom 11:21-22, “For with you great strength abides always; who can resist the might of your arm?  Indeed, before you the whole universe is as a grain from a balance…”   As I was reflecting on my reading I thought again of my friend’s story of the map of the galaxies.  I thought of the big, huge numbers my children are so fascinated by.  I thought of myself, as I so often do.  I thought of all my problems, problems that no matter the size, I tend to magnify in my own mind.  Then I thought of God, the creator of it all.  God, who holds it all in His hand, who sees it all, all the time.  I thought of God with the whole universe, all of His creation, spread before Him and it amounting, next to Him, to only a tiny bit of grain.  And me?  I am barely a speck in that bit of grain and yet my heavenly Father sees me, watches over me, loves me.  And as I sat there, contemplating it all, my tiny, infinitesimal mind was boggled beyond belief.  Yet I felt at peace with my smallness and blessed by His greatness and, above all, thankful for things that I will never fully comprehend that remind me that nothing is bigger than God’s love. 

Laughing with God

    I feel like I could start all my blog posts the same way, “It was one of those days” ….  It seems it is always “one of those days” around here.  Everyday I feel like I am dealing with complete commotion and disarray.  My life is just one monotonous but overwhelming day after another…laundry, dishes, whining, dirty diapers, bickering, overflowing garbage, stray socks all over the house, library books always underfoot, lost shoes, boo-boos, snacks, dripping sippy cups, math lessons that trigger tears, spelling tests that no one wants to take, drawing paper cluttering our school table, cheerios crushed all over the kitchen floor, question after question after question after question,

“mommy, what should I do for grammar?”,
“mommy, does this shirt match?”,
“mommy, can I have a cookie?”,
“mommy, can I play a video game?”,
“mommy, what should I draw a picture of?”,
“mommy, can I play a video game?”,
“mommy, can I go outside to play?”,
“mommy, what are we doing tomorrow?”,
“mommy, can I play a video game?”,
“mommy, what’s for dinner?”,
“mommy, do I have to eat that?”

Sometimes I feel like I am expected to make every decision, for every person in my house, and yet, at the same time, it seems no one ever listens to me!  It is no wonder I feel emotionally exhausted at times.  It is no wonder I sometimes think about finding a place to hide out for a few hours- all alone!
    Here is the latest example of “one of those days” at our house.  Tim and I were trying to get the kids, and ourselves, ready for Mass.  He was changing his clothes.  I was washing crusty food out of the baby’s hair.  The other children were playing loudly and life was in its normal state of mass chaos at our house.  After cleaning the baby up, I rifled through the basket of hair bands and barrettes that I keep on the counter in the bathroom to see if I could find something to put in her hair.  In the bottom of the basket, underneath all the hair-spray-encrusted, sticky-from-gel accessories I found a half eaten cracker.  “Look what I found Tim,” I said holding it up. 
    “I guess that’s pretty normal for our life,” he answered smiling.   And then the baby took the cracker from my hand and put it promptly in her mouth.  I, too, smiled.  As usual, how right Tim was.  My life can pretty much be summed up by that half eaten cracker in the bottom of the barrette basket.  Crazy, out of control, a little bit ridiculous.  I am pretty sure God is laughing at my life most of the time.  Every once in a while I can see the humor in it as well.  And sometimes, the best thing, the only thing I can do to stay sane and rational, is just to stand there and laugh along with Him.

Book Review- The Treasure of My Catholic Faith

    As a home schooling mother of 5 I have seen and tried a lot of different books to educate my children.  I am always searching for the best fit for us and, especially when it comes to religion curriculum, am fairly picky.   My children’s religion books, first of all, have to be Catholic, of course.  They have to be easy to read and engaging but still true to our Catholic faith and still catechetical in nature.   I do not want books that are too “warm and fuzzy” lacking real substance and failing to pass on the depth and beauty of our Faith.  I do not want books that are too deeply theological in nature either, after all they are meant for children and must reach them where they are.  And so, it was with a bit of trepidation that I sent off for The Treasure of My Catholic Faith, level 1.   I hoped it would meet my expectations and serve well as my 5 year old son’s religion curriculum.
    We started our school year in mid-August and on our first day I introduced the book to my son.  He was so excited to get to work and enjoyed flipping through the colorful pages filled with bright illustrations, various fun activities and short reading passages.  As we got started I was a little concerned that the book would not offer a very profound study of the teachings of the Church.  My son, however, loved it right from the start.  He enjoyed the cutting and pasting activities.  He loved drawing pictures of his favorite thing in God’s creation.  He answered correctly the true or false questions about how God created the world.  As we have gone along, the book has really grown on me, maybe because of my son‘s enthusiasm for it.  The readings, though not particularly deep or spiritual, are just the right length for an antsy little boy, and there are quite a few activities throughout each chapter, offering opportunities for review and discussion on the material presented.  The discussions are my favorite part of our religion work each day, but my son still prefers the cutting and pasting.  Thankfully the book has provided a good opportunity for both.  We talk about the material in the chapter, discussing what our Church teaches and what our faith tells us, and then he is allowed the fun of coloring, gluing, or drawing to further cement the lesson in his mind.
    Each chapter ends with a short summary of the lesson, a few questions to review, and a practical application of the information learned.   So, all in all I would recommend the book to others.  As with any religion program, it can not stand alone as an isolated means to pass on the faith.  However, along with all that we do as Catholics to live out our faith each day, it is a beautiful tool to help with the essential catechesis we must offer in order to keep our children strong in their Catholic identity.

I received this book free of charge in exchange for writing an honest review for the website tiberriver.com.  The book can be purchased through aquinasandmore.com

The greatest right of women

    I was busy in the kitchen when I heard a little skirmish behind me.  “It is my baby; she can’t have it,” my 7 year old daughter shouted.  “You need to share!” her 12 year old sister answered just as loudly.  It is not unusual for my two older girls to be disagreeing about something so I sighed deeply and turned around slowly to help end the fight when, to my surprise, I found that, for the first time, my one year old was involved in the rivalry.  The baby stood clutching her sister’s doll tightly in her little dimpled hand and pulling as hard as she could to keep the doll’s owner from re-claiming the toy.  My oldest daughter had come to her aid but my middle daughter would not relent- she was not going to share her baby doll (although for her baby sister she is usually willing to do anything).  I have to admit the whole thing amused me.  I smiled as I noticed how fiercely each of my girls was fighting for that old plastic baby doll dressed in drooping purple pants with her painted face fading and her body scribbled on in several places.   I sided with the older and younger of the girls and insisted that my middle daughter must share her toys.  The fight was over in a matter of minutes but after the incident was long forgotten by the girls, I found myself thinking about it, and probably analyzing it way too much.  It occurred to me how interesting it was that the baby’s first “fight” was over a baby doll and that she was quite adamant, even without any real language skills, that she would have that baby.  I found myself wondering if it meant anything that it was a baby doll she was fighting for.  That though she herself is still almost completely dependent on me, her mother, for everything- still nursing, still in diapers, still sleeping in a crib- already she wants to “pretend” to be a mother.   She is drawn so often to her sister’s dolls, toddling over and over into the big girls’ room and straight to the doll crib to retrieve a baby passing by the books, craft supplies, and all sorts of other interesting things along the way without even a passing glance.  She loves to hug the dolls and push them around the house in the little doll stroller.  My seven year old, who all the dolls belong to, is as attached to them as her sister, hence the fighting.  The desire to be a mother is so strong and so much a part of being female that here it is present in my little girls before they can even understand what it means.  God created women to be nurturers, to be caretakers, to be mothers.  It is what we desire, what we crave, what we prepare for even when we are too little to even dream of achieving it.  I can relate in so many ways, to my daughters’ desires to have that baby doll because though I am often overwhelmed with the chaos of raising 5 children I find myself thinking about having another baby all the time.  I dream about having another child.  I look longingly at pregnant women in the store and miss having a big round belly, though my own pregnancies were anything but fun, full of anxiety, sleepless nights, and discomforts. 
    My mind knows that God wants me to concentrate my energies right now on caring for the children He has blessed me with, not preparing to welcome another child.   My mind understands that the timing is not right to expand our family.  My mind fully grasps that my life is very full and it would be irresponsible to add another baby right now.  But my heart… my heart always seems to be ready for more.  My heart seems to scream at times for another baby.  It is a part of being a woman.  I have shared my desires with many a friend only to find that whatever chapter they themselves are in in life, they understand.  They, too, have felt the pull of their heart strings to bring forth life once again, to hold a tiny newborn in their arms again, to nurture and care for another child.  It may not be a practical desire, it may not even be possible but the desire is still there at times and still very real. 
    When my oldest child was still an only child I came across a quote that touched me so much I put it in her baby album.  “Of all the rights of women, the greatest is to be a mother,” ~Lin Yutang.  I would add that motherhood is not only our greatest right but also our greatest blessing.  It is, at least for me, the best way to serve God.  The best way to fulfill my calling in life.  As Catholics, Tim and I are always open to life and have ultimately put the size of our family in God’s hands.  Should He ever reveal to us that the time is right for another baby, my heart will be ready and waiting….

"Buy Some"

    My oldest son loves money.  He is very good with his money, saving it up, investing it when he can, spending it with very careful thought and consideration.  He is always looking for ways to make more money and planning for what he will do if he is ever blessed with an unexpected windfall.  I am not sure where he got this fascination with money, money, more money.  Certainly not from Tim and I. We are usually perfectly content with our simple, low-cost, little life. 
    When our son was little there were already signs of his interest in money and material things.  He would ask me for things- fruit snacks (which were his favorite food at the ripe old age of 2, and which he called fruit ‘nacks), cookies, new toys occasionally.  If ever the answer was ‘no, we are all out’ or ‘no, we don’t have any” his immediate answer was always, “buy some”.  He said it so frequently it started coming out as one word, “bysom”.  He would tell me several times a day, about anything and everything he wanted, “bysom mommy.”  It was so cute and obviously he was not able to understand the concepts of income, economics, and not enough money in the bank for anything and everything he ever wanted.
    I remember when I was little my younger brother going through a similar stage.  When he wanted something and my mom told him there was not enough money for it, his answer was always, “Go to Jeannie.”  Now, this was back when ATM machines were new and starting to pop up all over town.  The bank my parents went to called their ATM “Jeannie” and on the machine was a picture that resembled the lead character on that old television show, “I Dream of Jeannie”.   My brother, in his youth, saw my mom stick her little card in the slot and watched the money slide out in response.  It seemed like an unlimited source of revenue to him and discounted her claim that there was not enough money for anything.
    I am at an age where I can very clearly understand the concepts of income vs. expenses, basic economics, and, especially, not enough money in the bank for anything and everything we ever want.   Tim and I try very hard to live within our means, however meager they may be.  We don’t covet big fancy houses, or expensive cars.  We don’t spend money on new electronics for our house.  We don’t own a GPS, or a Wii or a flat screen digital t.v.  We spend our weekends hanging out with each other and our children, not doing much of anything, because our entertainment budget is pretty much nonexistent.  That is okay with us.  We have fun just being together and have laughed harder over games of “Old Maid” and “twenty questions” than we have on any expensive vacation or over any pricey restaurant dinner.  Yet, I struggle at times with the same thought my young son used to express so often.  When I see something I want my first thought is, “buy some”.   I admit there are times, I want things I cannot really afford.  I want to remodel my house, which seems to always be in disrepair lately.  I want to buy myself a few new pairs of jeans, because those too are in disrepair, with big holes in both knees.  I want to go out after dinner and buy milkshakes for everyone and sit on the porch sipping them down, talking about our day and watching the stars over head. 
    We can’t always afford to just “bysom” and in this world of instant gratification, where we are told we are entitled to all we want, it can be very easy to feel disappointed, or even angry about it.  There are times Tim and I have to sit back and take stock of life.  We have to look at the big picture of our lives.  Sometimes we just have to take the time to sit on the porch together, watching the stars over head and counting the blessings we do have.  And thankfully, whenever we do that, we remember how good God is to us and how wonderful our life is… even without milkshakes to sip.

Time flies when you are having fun

In 1998, cutting the hospital bracelet off our new baby- she is ours to keep!

 When I was expecting my first child I found out right away, at about 4 weeks along.  The nine months Tim and I spent waiting for our baby seemed to last forever.  The days dragged along, the weeks sloooooowly passed as we anxiously awaited the day would we become parents.  After nine months that felt more like nine years, my due date finally arrived but the baby was not as anxious as her parents, and though the date on the calendar had finally come the baby decided not to.  For six more very long days, the longest in my life, we waited and waited doubting that we would ever really get to meet our new baby and find out if we would have a girl or a boy.  But, almost a week past my due date…at long last… my water broke and we headed to the hospital feeling that finally the time had come to meet and hold our little bundle of joy.  “Not so fast,” baby seemed to say.  For, although labor started early, before the sun was up, our beautiful baby girl did not make her appearance until just a few minutes before midnight.  After nine months, six days, and about 19 hours, the waiting was finally over and Tim and I entered the wonderful, crazy world of parenting. 

    Funny how the waiting was excruciatingly long but the time since has flown by at an alarming rate.  Tomorrow it will have been exactly 12 years since we welcomed our first child and I am not sure how it is possible that that tiny precious baby has turned into a pre-teen practically over night.   The time has gone so quickly, Tim loves to say that he is not old enough to have a child who is 12.  Obviously that is not true but, at times, we certainly both feel too young to have a 12 year old.   He and I were both in our early 20’s when we had our first child.  In many ways, we were not so grown-up ourselves.  We had a baby because it sounded like fun.  We has no idea how many moments would be anything but fun.  We had no idea how much it would require of us and how hard it would be to always be responsible for our daughter’s care, safety, discipline, education, etc…  While we were waiting all those months back in 1998, we felt so ready to start our roles as mommy and daddy.  We felt totally ready to welcome and raise a child.  Looking back, I am not sure we were at all prepared for the reality of parenthood.  I am not sure how anyone can be.  There is just no way to prepare or to anticipate what it will be like to actually leave the hospital and take that baby home. 

    Somehow, Tim and I have figured it out.   I guess we have, over the years, risen to the challenge of really being parents.  We still don’t always know what to expect, the teenage years are right around the corner and promise to be a whole new world of uncharted territory.  But, with God’s grace and guidance, we have grown into our role as parents.  And, our daughter has grown into a amazing young lady- beautiful, smart, creative, and kind.  I am so proud and so humbled at the same time, that God has allowed me to be her mother.  So tomorrow we will celebrate our daughter’s birthday and the joy and happiness she has brought us each and every day of the last 12 years.

Sneak Attack

    Whenever I used to hear people talk about the devil working in their lives I was very skeptical.  It seemed to me they were using that old excuse, “the devil made me do it.”   What a convenient way to avoid taking responsibility for their actions!  How easy it seemed to blame someone else for their mistakes!  I used to tell Tim I was not sure I even believed in the devil.  Then, one day in my mom’s faith sharing group the subject of the devil came up.  I remember the facilitator explaining how the devil tempts us to sin and attacks us to keep us from following God.  At first, I sat there doubting it all and feeling like it was nothing but excuses again.   Then she said, “We know the devil is real because Jesus tells us he is.  It says in the Bible that Jesus, himself, was tempted by the devil.”  It was an interesting point and one that made me think.  I have since come to see that the devil is indeed very real.  He is also very sneaky and very much at work in the world always trying to pull us away from God.  He is, of course, no excuse for bad behavior or justification for our own sinfulness but though he is not responsible for any of the choices we ultimately make, he sure can make a holy life difficult at times.
    I have felt the devil attacking me and my family a whole lot in the past few weeks.  The harder I try to pray and draw near to God the more I see obstacles thrown in my way.  The first plan of attack the evil one has launched in my life has been against my marriage.  Now, thankfully, Tim and I have a good marriage.  We love each other and are committed to each other because we both believe in and respect the sacrament of marriage and the vows we made to each other.  Nevertheless, our marriage has been less a source of love and companionship lately and more a battleground against busyness, distraction, and complacency.  Tim and I have not been fighting, we have not been angry or frustrated with each other.  We have just been busy and oftentimes going in two totally different directions.  He has his two jobs, taking up much of his time.  I have the kids, the house, and the school plans and work to keep me constantly on the run.  When we have a minute to just sit down and relax together our conversations revolve around home repairs, schedule conflicts, and discipline issues with the kids.  We even had a date planned last weekend, after a very kind friend offered to watch the kids for us free of charge, but the devil struck again!  Just hours before our date, we had more trouble with the air conditioner and with our house soaring to over 90 degrees, had to cancel the sitter and instead sit home and figure out how to pay for another a/c repair bill.   Which brings me to another area of life that seems fraught with demonic designs.  Our house, our haven of safety and peace, has been falling apart around us this summer.  Every weekend has been spent fixing things that were never in the budget to fix.  Every repair seems to be somehow undone during the week and needs to be re-repaired the next weekend.  Both Tim and I are at our wits end with the endless repairs, breaks, and bills, bills, bills trying to keep a roof over our head and a place to lay our exhausted heads at night.  Which leads to another crazy part of life that can only be the work of Satan and his malevolent plans.  Money.  Now, our finances have always been a little precarious and we are very accustomed to depending on and trusting in God to provide for us but lately, mostly due to all the unexpected trips to the local home improvement store up the street, money just seems to be more of an issue.  We feel like we are just one more break-down from complete financial ruin.  All the hassle has added a lot of stress to our home and cast a shadow of frustration to everything in life. 
    The devil is, unfortunately, very good at his job.  He is good at distracting us from prayer and our quest for holiness, he is good at making us doubt the love and care of our Father in Heaven, he is good at leaving us feeling worn out with nothing left to give to our families, or to God.  I know my prayer life has suffered in the last few weeks.  When I lay down at night and look at my Bible sitting next to my bed waiting for my daily prayer time and reading of scripture, I admit I have skipped it more than once in favor of shutting my eyes and blocking out all the craziness of life.   Recently, I have awoken with a pit in my stomach and feelings of anxiety as I face another unpredictable day, and started the morning snapping at my family and setting a negative tone to the day right from the start.  I can almost picture the devil sitting down in Hell, flames flaring up all around him, with a huge grin on his face watching the tranquility of my home crumble under the stain of his attacks. 
    So, what can we do to fight the power of evil in our lives?  How can we combat the discouragement and fatigue that come with the feeling that everything in life has become a battle?  Prayer is the only answer I have.  If all we can manage are prayers uttered in frustration, “help me God, please help me” we must trust that even these do not fall on deaf ears.  And if we are too weary and worn down to pray for ourselves we must depend on the prayers of our friends, the prayers of our guardian angels and the saints in heaven, prayers from our Blessed Mother all offered on our behalf.    For God has promised to answer our prayers, and to not abandon us to the evil one.  And, of course, as we as Christians know, our God has already won the fight!  Hard as he may try, the devil will never triumph.

I didn't mean to!

    It happens a million times a day it seems.  Everyone is playing nicely and then all of the sudden someone starts wailing and comes to me, tears in their eyes, accusing a sibling of causing bodily harm by some means or another.  The accused always has the same response, “but I didn’t mean to!”  Sometimes the “accident” happened because of someone “innocently” swinging a stick around, sometimes it was a careless case of tossing toys, or an “accidental” kick or hit that was never meant to hurt anyone-- or at least that is what I am told, over and over again.  No one is my house is ever guilty, by their account.  I hate to admit it but my kids are a lot like me.  I, too, claim that, “I didn’t mean to!”  when I look at the wounded relationships in my life.  And, in part it is true- maybe for my children as well as myself.  I don’t think any of us means to be mean, our intentions are usually not truly malicious and yet each of us hurts others by our actions, over and over again. 
    I have been trying lately to be more conscious of the choices I make and the words I choose to use.  Being a Christian and treating people with kindness is not a hobby or a part time job that we can do when we feel like it and avoid when we don’t.  It just isn't okay to hurt people even if our insensitive words or inconsiderate actions are made without malicious intent.  Yet, I, like my children, try to justify careless words or accidentally hurtful actions by claiming, “but I didn’t mean to!”    
    When my children come to me with their innocent explanations, saying things like, “All I was doing was swinging the stick in my hand and she walked into me”.  I try to patiently point out what is so obvious to me, that such “accidents” would not happen if they weren’t swinging sharp sticks to begin with.  If only they would think before picking up sticks, the pain could be avoided.  I think God must see things similarly.  He knows when we are not trying to hurt others, He knows when our intentions are not malicious.  Yet, He also sees when we are playing with fire, so to speak.  If I did not “pick up” thoughtless words, or selfish bad habits I might avoid spreading a lot of hurt, myself.
    I am sorry for the times I have hurt others unintentionally by “innocently” thinking only of myself and “accidentally” tossing around mean words. I know that, just like a patient mother trying to teach her children kindness, God wants to help us all to be more aware of the feelings of others and the consequences of our actions.  I have been praying that He will help me to think before I speak, think before I act, and especially think before I react, so I will spread more love and less pain and hurt.   I hope, in time, my children and I will all learn this valuable lesson.

Feeling fried....

    We are two and a half weeks into our school year and we have settled nicely into our routine.  We quickly figured out what doesn’t work, like the math book I mistakenly ordered in the wrong level for my 7 year old so that when we sat down to do it on the first day we realized it was way too hard and ended up spending two weeks working on “Calculadder” drills and flashcards as we waited for the correct book to show up in the mail. And the shelves I had so carefully set up but had to re-organize a few times to make room for the bin of math manipulatives, which had been housed in the hall closet but really needed to be close at hand, and the plastic office organizer that had to be added to hold all our loose leaf paper so it wouldn’t get wrinkled and ruined just sitting on the shelf.  And, we have figured out what does work- the older kids love the Apologia Science (by Jeannie Fulbright) I ordered on “swimming creatures of the fifth day” and the younger kids love the Five in a Row (by Jane Claire Lambert) books and lessons which always include story time followed by fun activities.  I have figured out that by starting with something relatively easy (after our morning prayers, of course), like hand writing and story time then moving into math while it is still early in our school day the lessons progress smoothly.  But, after doing kindergarten, second grade, fourth grade, and sixth grade math in very quick succession I have also discovered that my brain is completely overloaded and I feel mentally fried by 10:30 am most days.  And so, with endless streams of numbers floating through my head and a complete and total inability to think clearly without a break, we have added an unplanned activity into our morning routine.  Each day this week upon finishing our arithmetic lessons, we have all set out for a short morning walk.  Instead of putting the baby in her stroller I have put on her socks and shoes and let her toddle along with us.  And so, walking at a pace set by chubby little toddler legs, we meander down to the corner and back in the lovely Florida sunshine letting our brains recover from our hard work of the morning.  Our conversations seem to center around the work we have already completed, making it an impromptu review without the children even realizing it.  This morning we talked about our Five in a Row lesson from The Story about Ping (by Marjorie Flack) when we discussed the sun rising in the east and setting in the west and as we walked we observed the sun, still in the eastern sky, casting our shadows westward on the sidewalk.
    It is these moments when I most enjoy home schooling, the unexpected times when the kids and I are talking and sharing our thoughts and taking pleasure in the time we get to spend together.  And it is these precious moments that give me the strength to come home and tackle the rest of our day…the phonics, and religion, and history, and science, and writing, and so on, and so on... that are always waiting for us when we get home from our walk.