Getting back to my roots

My mother's grandma was born in the Ukraine, and my grandma Sonia grew up speaking both English and Ukrainian, living in central Alberta with her mother, father and 8 brothers and sisters. I love looking at old pictures of my grandma's family, and of my mother as a little girl. Hard working, living off the land sort of people. The kind of genes I really need in my own blood right about now (because God knows how much hard work I'm putting into raising this little brood of my own).

Grandma Sonia always tells me stories of things that she and her siblings did as children. About going to school, learning to read and memorize poems, learning to cook and watch her mom, listening to her dad play the violin, playing in the woods with her brothers, helping her mom make butter, growing into a young woman who was the cook at a logging camp filled with strong hungry men, marrying my grandpa and raising her own family. She also likes to tell me stories of when my own mother was a child. Washing clothes on a washboard and hanging them out to dry, playing in the river, building their own house. Some of my favorite memories are of spending time with her and gr Pete. It's wonderful that my own children have the privilege of playing with her too. (and we miss dear gr Pete each time we go over there).

Since starting school again on Monday, we've decided to leave Fridays open to outings to the library, and to visit grandma Sonia. Math was never invented to be done 5 days a week anyways right?

From Easter bread ...

This Friday, we invited ourselves over to grandma Sonia's house so she could teach us how to make Ukrainian Easter bread decorations. Since she was a little girl, she remembers her mother making these cute bread birds at Easter time. Easter was the biggest feast of the year when she was a child. They always went to church (a Ukrainian Orthodox church on the prairies), and she remembers lots of fun and games after church with treats and punch.

From Easter bread ...

Anyways, we had lots of fun rolling out the dough, shaping it, brushing it with egg glaze and baking them. Actually, Grandma teases me that I had the most fun of all, because the kids just made one bird each and then ran off to play, but I sat at the table and made 5 or 6 while grandma held the babies and we chatted about the olden days.

I really enjoy those hands-on skills and crafts. It feels so good to get my hands into something and create things of beauty and goodness. One of the reasons that I enjoy staying home to care for my children and husband so much is that I get to do exactly that each day-- make things beautiful and good with my own hands all day long. (It might just be a clean pile of laundry, a sparkling bathroom mirror, or a yummy homemade birthday cake, but it's made all by myself to sustain my family, and I love that!).

From Easter bread ...

Here are some pictures of our day. You'll notice we also made cinnamon buns. Grandma Sonia is so great at just whipping up these treats.. no cookbook - just good, simple ingredients and common sense.

Easter bread with gr Sonia

Our truly HOLY week; part Four (scroll down to read part one)

Easter Sunday found us in our beds at 6:30 am, listening to the cooing and wiggling of little John Paul who had joined us in the wee hours of the morning. We decided that since we were up anyways, we would make a go of getting to church for the 8am mass. This mass, although early, was our best chance of getting a seat, and a parking spot.

We quickly rushed through the house getting everyone ready for church, in their Sunday best. Pretty dresses for the girls, vests and dress pants for the boys, car seats, diaper bag stocked with extra diapers... we were ready.

"but wait!... "cried the children... "where's the chocolate?? when is the Easter bunny coming??". They scoured the downstairs, but all they could find was a lone jellybean under the kitchen table (which the toddler quickly gobbled up before they had a chance to decide how to share it).

"No time!! We must go go go"... get to church on time so we don't have to stand at the back and park 3 blocks away

Luckily, the excitement of Jesus rising from the dead was enough to tear them away from the house... that, and a sworn promise that we would have chocolate when we came home.

At church, we got our usual seats (the ones right up in the front that are always left because no one wants to sit so close under the eye of the priest... our thought is maybe the children will behave better if they are so close?). When we entered the building, we were greeted with a beautiful display of Easter flowers: hydrangeas, lillies, and other springy flowers spilling out of the doors and all around the altar at the front. Even with the snow and frigid temperatures outside, it was hard not to rejoice in new life, spring, and resurrection joy.

The mass was lovely. We were sprinkled with holy water, renewed our baptismal promises, sang the Gloria and the alleluia again, and rejoiced with the whole church around the world as Jesus rose from the dead.

Of course, we ended up standing at the back of mass anyways, even though we had these comfy choice seats at the front, because the crazy toddler was tired of church by this day, and was trying to run laps around the aisles, and peek into the large baptismal pool at the front (while the priest was blessing everyone)... and the babies were taking turns crying, and fussing... and since we went at 8am, we didn't know anyone there to help us hold one of them. Picture two parents, with three kids needing to be held, and one preschooler needing to go pee in the middle of mass.

Anyways, like I said in my first post, we eventually survived, and after the children had fun running around in Easter joy, splashing in the holy water with their friends, running through the snow outside, and then running to get in the van to race home for breakfast and an egg hunt, we went home.

The obligatory egg hunt was lots of fun, with the kids following clue to clue throughout the house, eventually finding a big family Easter basket filled with lots of jelly beans, cookies, apple strudel, books, movies, and of course, chocolate. Little H was having so much fun running through the house yelling 'more candy! more candy!!'. E, the six year old, enjoyed hiding her candy all through the house pretending the Easter bunny came again. (later she got mad at me for telling someone she did that, because she didn't want to reveal the secret that it wasn't the bunny).

We sat down to a beautifully set table, with our decorated eggs, strudel, bacon, daddy's special berry juice smoothies, and a Ukrainian bread called pasqa (sp?? my good friend Michelle baked and decorated these and brought them up for us). During breakfast we listened to the Easter mass being celebrated by the pope at the Vatican, and after we ate, we watched as the pope gave his Easter message and blessing to the world.

Later in the day we went to my mom and dad's for a family dinner where the children were spoiled with more chocolate and jello, and fun with my sister and uncle jack. A perfect way to end the special feast day.

Our truly HOLY week; part three

Holy Saturday is traditionally the day when Jesus was in the tomb, and all is silent. The church waits in vigil, praying throughout the day, but not attending mass. The only day of the whole year that the church does not celebrate mass.

We spent the day doing more work on our Easter Lapbook, decorating easter eggs, and reading the stations of the cross together as a family. The easter eggs were really fun. We used food coloring, but only the red (pink) and blue worked out. We drew pictures with a wax crayon on the eggs and then dipped them in the colored water. This egg is one E made. Z and H spent most of the time eating the eggs and making a colorful mess to clean up. We enjoyed lots of time together as a family, waiting for Easter.

Our truly HOLY week; part two

After staying up late on Holy Thursday because of church being after dinner, we had a quiet and slow morning on Good Friday. We spent the morning working on our Easter Lapbook (post on this to follow), making Hot cross buns, crafting crosses out of playdough, and getting ready to return to church again.

At church on this special day, the children were drawn in by the silence, the bareness of the walls and altar (all decorations, cloths, flowers, statues are taken down for good Friday), and the life size wooden cross placed in the middle of the church that we processed by and touched or kissed it, in honor of the wood on which Jesus was crucified. Z especially was saddened by Jesus' death, and kept saying how sad it was that the soldiers were so mean to him.



After we returned home, we spent the afternoon napping, eating a simple supper of homemade soup and bread given to us by one of my best friends down the street (who has supplied us with many many meals since the babies came), and then settled down on our family couch (thank you to our other wonderful friends who donated two new-to-us couch) for bedtime stories and prayers.

Mommy and Daddy watched the Passion before they went to bed and wept with the women of Jerusalem, and Christ's disciples as he was crucified and laid to rest in the tomb. We went to bed in silence.

Our truly HOLY week; part one

We did it! We survived another holy week/Easter triduum with the kids. It was a little crazy at times-- bringing five small children to church at odd hours, three days in a row, but we survived.

Actually, it was a very beautiful time. For us, holy week is the most blessed of all weeks in the year. Easter is even more special than Christmas time (although my kids seem to disagree with me on that one since they get more presents on Christmas!). We celebrate the death and resurrection of Christ, remembering together as a catholic family the last moments of his life on earth. One of the beautiful things about being Catholic is that we get to experience our faith with our senses, and follow the rhythms of the liturgical year to remind our slow minds of the truths we believe.

The children especially enjoy this way of living our religion.

On Palm Sunday, we start the mass by waving real palm branches. Each person in the building gets a palm branch as they enter through the doors, and like the people who welcomed Jesus when he entered Jerusalem at Passover, we wave our branches over our heads as well. Of course, it's always fun to hit people over the head with them if you are a toddler, and to use them as swords if you are a preschool boy. Mommy, enjoys weaving them into traditional crafts after we return home (crosses, a bird, a crown of thorns). After mass we had two families from our church with their own small children over for breakfast and had a lovely celebration together.

Later that evening we celebrated Grandpa Jack's birthday, and the children had great fun with their extended family. At one point, the found a long piece of purple cloth and tied it onto Z declaring him to be the King... (like Jesus, entering triumphantly into the holy city).

On Holy Thursday, we returned again to church, this time in the evening, to remember the last supper; the evening during which Jesus washed the disciples feet, showing us how real leaders must be servants, not tyrants. We heard the story of the first time he turned the bread and wine into his body and blood , and how the disciples slept while Jesus waited in agony in the garden of Gethsemane for the soldiers to come and arrest him.

We sat in the front row (great seats, because mommy thought church started at 7, so we were there extra early to ensure we got a seat and parking spot... turns out it actually started at 730 so we had lots of space to choose from). The children were entranced watching the priest wash people's feet, and after mass when we silently prayed and adored Jesus waiting with him in vigil, they kneeled so innocently, praying and taking in all the sights, sounds and breathing the intoxicating smells of incense.