Our Lenten Offerings

I’m a cradle Catholic. Meaning, I’ve been Catholic all my life, since a newborn. So I’ve done all the sacraments, attend weekly mass, go to confession, live my life as best as I can in accordance with the Bible & Catholic Catechism. I’ve been a part of 38 Lents now, obviously not being too aware of the ones in my earlier days, but I remember being served peanut butter sandwiches, fish sticks or cheese pizza at school lunch through the years. However, the core memory of Lent as a kid was always going to Ash Wednesday Mass at our school. (I attended Catholic school from K-12). As we got older, we were always worried about how big the cross would be, or if it would look silly compared to other kids. (Because kids can be cruel, even if it’s out of your control). It seemed silly and superficial, and kind of defeated the purpose of the message.

Seeing as my children are homeschooled, and spared of that form of torture, the last two years we’ve made it a priority to make it to Ash Wednesday mass. When you’re not solely focused on what other kids are going to say about your ash cross, it’s easier to listen to the message of fasting and almsgiving. Clearly, Lent was hard to understand as a kid. It felt like a lot of unnecessary discomfort. This whole concept of sacred suffering was lost on me, or at the very least, it wasn’t explained to me clearly. I always thought, “But why would God want me to suffer?” Even in to adulthood, suffering seemed like an unfair outcome.

In 2022, as I dug DEEP into my understanding of my faith, I read countless books by the saints and Catholic scholars about suffering and purification. Which only lead me to more and more questions. Questions I didn’t know how to answer, or who I should turn to for clarification. I felt a little overwhelmed by what I had found, so I texted my very smart, very faithful younger brother. I just wanted to toss around some things, see if he had any insight or recommendations on books I should read to understand deeper. When he texted back this:

“God allowed the torture and death of His Son on Earth, what makes you think you’re immune to suffering?”

— my wise youngest brother

Well, that was the punch in the gut I needed to hear. Why was I thinking my life should be perfect? No suffering, no inconveniences, no hardships? If God didn’t answer my prayers the way I had hoped He would, did it mean He is a Mean God? or Unjust? Of course not! It reminded me of all the time it took me to get pregnant, then having a miscarriage, and being told there is no medical explanation for my infertility. But we continued to pray, and “if not, He is Still Good”. Obviously if you know me at all, you know we went on to have 3 kids, but back to what I think I’m trying to say.

Lent is to remind us of the suffering Christ endured for us. As we choose things to give up, or fast from, we are meant to sit in our discomfort and offer up our suffering and prepare our hearts for the death and resurrection of our Lord. Taking that, and explaining it to children now as an adult, still seems a little foreign. I told them how we give up things we like, or sins we struggle with in order to heal our own ugliness. God will always forgive us when we come to Him for forgiveness, but we need to be actively working on improving ourselves to be better followers of Him. Jesus never said “You’re perfect just the way you are, no notes.” He tells us, “repent from your sins, go & sin no more.”

I could go on and on with this subject, but I think it might make some people a little annoyed or angry. I’ll leave you with this. Little Kids don’t need to give up anything for Lent, but if you show them by example of what you’re trying to do work on yourself this Lent, they might just want to do the same. The last two years, after we went to Ash Wednesday mass, with the ashes freshly placed on our foreheads, we sat down and discussed things we could offer up to God this Lent. We then wrote them out and hung them in a place we could see them daily to remember just what we need to be working on. It’s not perfect and to be honest, yesterday was spent in an anxiety loop of not know where to start or what to do… but I’m working on it.

Happy Friday! Until next time! <3

Welcome to My New "Home"

HI! Welcome to my little corner of the internet, and where I plan to hang out for the next 40 days, and maybe <hopefully> longer into the future! I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again… I’m not sure if blogging is dead, but I’m not going to start over on Substack when I already have and pay for this site. I try every few months to resurrect this venture, with every intent to make it a habit, but alas, after a few days I forget and move on.

I’m hoping this time will be different, seeing as I won’t be sharing on Social Media. Can you believe it? I’m actually doing it. Giving up social media for Lent. I know this seems laughable to some, because people do it all the time, or (gasp) don’t even use social media in the first place <ie. my husband>. But for this girl who has been addicted to Instagram since 2011… that’s kind of a big deal.

I thought about this as I sat on a balcony in Miami last week, that maybe THIS would be the year I actually attempt this. Over the past 37 days I’ve been “bricking” my phone. Are you confused? Allow me to explain. There is a device, called a brick that you set it up on your phone to lock out certain apps at certain times of the day, and the only way to “unbrick” it is to physically go to the device and tap your phone to it. I know, there are ways to do this with the screen time settings on your phone, and I’ve tried that before but I didn’t have the willpower to NOT “allow access” after my time limit had passed. “Just a few more minutes” I’d tell myself and then mindlessly scroll for another few hours. My screen time usage was embarrassing, and I knew once I started hiding the truth about it from my husband that it was becoming a problem. Tasks weren’t getting done. Dinner wasn’t getting made. My level of annoyance and agitation went sky high. All the warning signs were there. I’d rather check out of my life and allow the thoughts, opinions & lives of other people to fill my mind and my day.

This isn’t meant to be an ad for Brick, but I can’t even begin to tell you, those first couple days were interesting. I busied myself with stuff I needed to get done, laundry, cleaning, schoolwork with the kids. But then something amazing happened. I realized missing out on other peoples lives, their posts, reels and stories, meant I was being fully present in my own. We started doing fun projects again, I was playing with them, looking them in the eyes, snuggling on the couch (undistracted). I learned a new hobby. I sat in the silence, or as the gen z kids are calling it “Raw-dogging” or not filling moments of downtime with screen time. You know, like we did in the 90’s <gasp>. (Also, raw dogging means something else if you grew up in the 80s & 90s… just saying)

Let’s break this down and do the math. I’ve been bricking for the past 37 days, that’s 888 hours. Of those 888 hours, I’ve had social media turned off for the past 789 hours. Allowing for 99 hours of social media use. That just means it was available on my phone, not that I was actually on it. But let’s just say hypothetically, I did use it, that would be 2.7 hours a day of social media use. Which, full disclosure, is EXPONENTIALLY LESS than what I was ACTUALLY spending on my phone before.

I used to sit a let reels and videos play as I cooked dinner, got ready in the morning, sat on the couch with my kids, hell, I even would watch stuff while I was attempting to do school with my kids. And as I sit here and try to recall the content of what was in the videos or clips I watched, my mind is blank. I can’t remember. I wasted precious memories with my kids, in order to watch clips that I can’t even recall now. Was it worth it?

I know you might say I’m being too hard on myself, and to give myself grace. Yeah. I’ve told myself this as well. That’s just what people do these days, fill voids with their phones. But I challenge you, put the phone down, go for a walk, touch grass. The drama of the news, politics, other peoples lives will still be there whether you see it in real time or not. And if things are THAT important, someone else will let you know. (like finding out that James Van Der Beek died).

Okay, off my soapbox. But I’m going back. Back to updating my life, like I did back in 2006-2009. IF you made it this far, thank you. If you’re going to be reading and keeping updated with our lives, won’t you be so kind as to engage with likes and comments. Until next time! <3

Every Day is the "BEST DAY EVER"

I know it’s cliche to say that my children teach me every day how to be a better person, but the statement is true. Motherhood, for me, has been one never ending lesson in self improvement. To put it bluntly, I’m an anti-social, impatient, type-A, control freak, who hates change, thrives on schedules and routines, and likes to have fun, but only if it’s in the time frame I permit. I’m going to go hide now, because I also don’t like showing vulnerability. But kids, man… kids will change you quick.

My children, despite the Homeschool stereotype, are extremely social kids. Everyone is good and wonderful in their eyes. There’s always new possibilities to make friends around every corner. We joined a nature school co-op this year, after 4 years of avoiding them. Every Friday is the “BEST DAY EVER” because they have the freedom to play and learn with 30 other homeschool families. It’s been a blessing in disguise, even though I really questioned myself for signing up.

If I’m being honest, since we’ve moved… I struggle putting myself in situations I know might be uncomfortable. Meeting new people? Uncomfortable. Spending time in nature, no matter the weather or elements? Uncomfortable. Allowing my kids the freedom to run through the woods, play in streams, and climb big hills, with the chance of getting hurt or dirty? UNCOMFORTABLE. But for my kids? It’s the BEST DAY EVER. Each time we go, they make new friends, tackle new experiences, gain a little more independence and subsequently gain a little more confidence.

Admittedly, I’m a bit of a Helicopter mom. I’m not trying to stunt my kids, but protecting their souls is my primary goal… and this world feels wild, more wild than I remember it being as a child. I know, as soon as you start talking about the evils of this world, or the things you’re trying to protect you kids from, you become some type of “Worldly Hateful diagnosis”. If you say it’s for Religious reasons, it’s even worse. But I’m a Catholic. A traditional one at that. Assume what you will, but I’m raising my children in the faith, teaching them to love their neighbors, love their enemies, and to use discernment when encountering new situations.

“By their fruits you shall know them”

— Matthew 7:16

All this to say, I want to see the world, the way my kids see it. Every day is some new adventure to have, a new book to read, something new to learn, new friends to make, a beautiful sunset to see. They don’t just see the world with rose colored glasses, they see it with Tetrachromatic vision, with hundreds of millions of extraordinary colors and shades. It’s beautiful and complex, but rare in this pessimistic world.

I could tell you how my kids teach me about patience, or going with the flow of the day, or even accepting the things I cannot change… but hearing them claim “best day ever” over multiple days each week, makes me question my ideal “Best day Ever”. Spending time with neighbors, hikes with friends, shopping at cool stores, seeing beautiful sunsets, vacation in Traverse City, time spent with cousins, playing tennis, family bike rides. All of those situations and more, warrant the title of BEST DAY EVER, and that makes my heart swell.

Is This The Start of Something?

““Who cares if no one reads this mom! Just read it to us, we think you’re awesome!” ”

Monday morning, I sat and typed out a quick blog post about my new computer. Little did I know that it would lead me to read a few of my blog posts from years past, to my curious children. Posts I wrote about our family, making childhood magical, open letters I wrote to them on their birthdays, and even a post I wrote last Christmas that I never shared. By the end of it all, the girls were all crying and Jonathan was really feeling all in his feels about how much I love him. Three children, who read 2-3 chapter books a week, boosted my ego by telling me that I’m actually a really good writer, even if I might not always believe in myself.

Could I put this all in a written journal? Sure. Am I going to? Probably not. Do I enjoy typing and incorporating photos to go along with those words? You Bet I do! Here’s what I didn’t expect to really enjoy, re-reading my random thoughts and ramblings and revisiting my brain. I’m not generally one to whine and complain about my husband and children, especially on the internet for all to see. (That’s not to say that I don’t get annoyed or frustrated with them on occasion… I just don’t air it in public) But I was pleasantly surprised to read that there was no whif of griping, just a common theme of “JORDANNE PUT DOWN YOUR PHONE, YOU’RE MISSING IT ALL!” You’d think by now, I’d have learned, but what’s that saying about the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over again and expecting different results.

I sat there at the dinner table, Monday night, reading more posts aloud to Ryan, most of them he had never read, because the man doesn’t do social media. One in particular, was the post from 10.14.16. I could barely read the words aloud through sobs and whimpers. “I WROTE THIS?” I just couldn’t believe that my brain, the same brain that walks into a room and has no recollection of why I’m there, a sleep deprived mom brain, could sit down and form words and sentences, so raw and beautiful. The post I’m referring to was me pleading with God to give us another baby. We struggled with unexplained infertility for our first two babies, and even had a miscarriage in between and I was feeling very exhausted from the struggle. I found out a few weeks later that I got pregnant shortly after writing that.

As I’ve said before, this has always been an outlet for me, back in high school and my livejournal days. Back when I separated every thought with an ellipses and my daily mood was always some Taking Back Sunday song. Even if no one reads this. I’m going to write, because I feel I need it.

My mom, now in her early 60s, loves to sit and chat with me about my childhood (her early motherhood). I would bring up amazing things she did, or adventures we went on, projects we made, songs we used to sing, memories I have that she doesn’t remember. “I’m so glad you remember all this stuff, because somehow I don’t remember any of it! I was in survival mode with five kids.” I’m not sure how she couldn’t remember, she was the most present and attentive mom around, but in the same vein, I look back at photos from the past 11 years and there’s blank spots in my memory! Usually during hard or difficult times, I remember the traumatic thing that was going on, but not the beautiful memories that continue to play out even through the struggle. I wonder if thats the same for her.

I think about this past summer, as we honored the life of my cousin, who was taken from this world way too early. It was a hard, unimaginable weekend, full of tears and grief. But even in the midst of all that, my kids made memories with me and Ryan. Happy, joy-filled, core memories. So maybe it’s kinda like that. We don’t get to pick and choose what our kids remember, but we are responsible for how we make them feel. The trip was hard, but we made sure to make it an adventure, as we always do. As moms, we need to take that job seriously.