seven quick takes

I know, I know. Take a break from writing every once in a while. We don't need to know every detail of your fascinating life.

1.

We're settling into our "new"  home here in the great liberal mecca of our otherwise beautiful Lonestar state. I'm not being fair. There is so much about this area that we really like. It's May - the weather is about as perfect as weather can get. We are blessed to have family here; family that we haven't lived around before so it's fun getting to know them better as friends, rather than just family. And there's HEB which speaks for itself. 

We're still trying to plug into our parish and homeschooling community. Our parish is a good jaunt and marathon and sprint and car drive away but the priest is a holy, holy man and the congregation is welcoming and kind. But again with the distance. If we buy in this area, we hope to buy closer to the parish. I found a homeschool co-op to join next year so we're well on our way to making this home.

2.

In the same vein, I've finally figured out the pro-life presence in this area. A. There is one. B. There is a big one. C. It's organized. 

Remember this?

For your memory:

(Vom.)

(And again.)

I was able to be there off and on this summer praying for the passage of HB2. In fact, I had just left a little bit before this hailing of demonic powers began (thanks be to God since I had my little ones with me). Through this, I had connected with Texas Alliance For Life. I didn't realized until last week that the pro-life presence in Austin is divided into several facets - political, counseling/prayer/presence, and crisis pregnancy help. 

So I, the person who runs in the opposite direction from confrontation, was trying really hard to get involved with the political aspect of the pro-life group here (cue unending laughter here). Joseph convinced me to attend a "Ladies for Life" brunch last Saturday where I was able to meet some wonderful ladies. They're Catholic, they're pro-life, and the homeschool. Really, I'm not picky. 

3.

I think I mentioned audiobooks the last time I wrote a blog post, but really, they are the knees of the bees. I haven't seen my kids for the last hour, thanks to Cherry Jones and The Banks of Plum Creek. And an hour for a stay-at-home-homeschooling mother is something like 42 hours in regular hours. And behold, a blog post. 

4. 

I should have written a post about this, but Molly turned six two weeks ago. Six. SIIIIIIX. Somehow, the baby that was merely a twinkle in my eye yesterday is six years old. That's school age. That's losing tooth age. Sleep over at grandma's age. 

We went to Lubbock for Easter and celebrated Molly's birthday with dear friends and cousins. And I didn't lift a finger thanks to the generosity and creativity of our dear-friend-might-as-well-be-an-aunt Carla (who needs a blog for her fun creations and super cute kids) and Aunt Jessica. 

Shameless photo bragging about the beauty of West Texas. Except ignore this because I don't want you to move there and make it crowded.

How do you connect with girls between the ages of 3 and 10 right now? "Do your best Frozen pose!"  It's money, people.

Carla put together Molly's idea for a party - a St. Rose of Lima party, complete with crowns of flowers for each girl, rose bouquets, rose candies, and pink lemonade. Aunt Jessica made a rose cake (baked by Grandma). And I very creatively put a pink table cloth on the table and blew up pink balloons (correction: I pulled a Tom Sawyer on the nieces and nephews and they blew up balloons all for the fun of it). Move back, Martha, Melanie's in town. 

5.

On Molly's actual birthday, we did it up right. I took the girls to Chick-fil-A and we went to the park. So, pretty much, we painted the town pink and sparkly compared to our normal schedule. I asked Molly what she wanted to do - anything she wanted to do, anywhere she wanted to go - we would do. She asked to go to the mall. After I finished hyperventilating and my dizziness subsided, I reminded her that it wasn't Christmas, there were no sparkly lights or decorated trees, and Saint Nicholas wasn't laughing joyously from his throne of candy canes, beckoning her bedecked-in-frills-and-bows self over to him for a picture. She wasn't buying it and still wanted to go to the mall. I reminded her Potts wasn't taking her, so there wouldn't be a train ride, candy, pretzels, and cookies, and carousels. She still didn't buy it. So I bribed her with Chick-fil-A and bam, we avoided the crowds and teenagers and trashy advertisements. Mother. Of. The. Year.

6.

Molly was gifted with this:

Wrong kid. They all look the same to me.

Not her sister, this cat. This demon cat. It's "FUR REAL" so it jumps! And meows! And bats it's creepy robotic legs whenever someone walks by! It wouldn't stop screeching even while it sat innocently in the gift bag. It hasn't stopped since. I kid, we let the batteries die. I kid. We hid the cat. We're encouraging it to go the way of the dodo soon.

7.

I'm that underachieving modern-aged mother who takes a lot of pictures and does absolutely nothing with them. But hey, when I'm dead and gone, my kids can plug in my old phones and reminisce during holidays about times of old when I took many a picture of them in dangerous but cute predicaments:

See:

"Hold that panicked cry and let me grab my phone." Two things of note: 1. she really did get stuck this way and 2. she dresses herself.

And when I forced them to hold up the same number of fingers as their age because honey, mama's nothing if not forgetful.

I'll print it out for her wedding. She's six!

And then when I force them to pile on top of me because I have stunted hobbit arms and can't take a normal daughter/mommy selfie.

I'm gonna need a longer arm.

Christmas 2080 is going to be a nostalgic holiday for the Behnke girls.

status quo

I'm on day two (updated: day seven) of a Facebook fast and I'm enjoying it, except that I have these thoughts that I feel need to be documented somewhere. I don't even think I'd put them on Facebook, as I use the mantra when posting:

Is this prideful? Yes. Don't post. No? Proceed to:
Is this true, kind, or necessary? Yes. Post. No? Don't post.
But is it hilarious and worth the damage to my soul because of pride? Ehh.......jury...is...debating....

But I don't want to forget these little moments. So, here are my status updates from this morning (updated: a morning a week ago):

What do you get when blankets have been in storage for six months, a dryer just won't completely dry them, and only once place in this rainy week to dry them?

The poster-mother for ingenious mothering, even if it was accidental. Whatev.

A tent that keeps the attention of two little girls for hours on end. Also, heaven.  (Thanks, Rachel, for the flowers! They are still good beautifying our home, ten days later!)

***

I tried to style my bookshelf this time around, instead of clogging it so full of books that they're spilling over.

A la:

Result:

I'm gonna need a bigger shelf. Or a few dozen more, as I have a few plastic tubs full of books that didn't make the stylish cut. Also, I want to paint this.

***

I think audiobooks are the bee's knees and I want to start building a collection instead of feverishly checking them out of the library every week like a crazed homeschooling mother (minus the denim jumper because never). 

***

I'll end there because this post has already taken a week to write and it was three thoughts. I do have deeper ones, but they run only as deep as my bathtub drain, and how it's clogged and how I don't want to stick my finger down there to clean it. 

need want hope pray - a stolen post

Rachel had a great post about the end of 2013 and the beginning of a new year.

I'm stealing because I'm trying to get back into blogging.

In 2014, I NEED to be more structured in schooling. I've done a very Charlotte Mason approach to kinder (and pre-k for Elle), but first grade has to be more structured. I still very much believe that play time is vital to the learning ability of children, which is why homeschooling has a great benefit - we do the work for half a day, and the rest is left to exploring, playing, choring, etc.

This is the first year that we could buy lesson plans and all the books we need and I think that will do a lot to help me. I'm not a teacher by nature so I need someone to do all the work for me, at least until I can get a handle on this lifestyle.


In 2014, I WANT to established down into a happy, comfortable, settled routine. If we're wanting, let's shoot for the moon. I'd like to have our own house - with enough room for a learning room (school/office/sewing) that doesn't have to get put away each meal; with a room for guests to come stay with us (not couches, y'all. We are moving on up.); with a big backyard to foster those little imaginations in my care; with a kitchen big enough that friends and family can gather 'round, enjoying a glass of wine or a cup of tea while a meal simmers on gas stove (sitting atop my double convection oven....I said I was shooting for the moon!).

This house will also be close to New Braunfels where we go to Mass every day at 6am with the priests of the Mission of Divine Mercy. No, scratch that - this house is close to the newly established Fraternity of St. Peter parish, where Fr. Mozzie is stationed as pastor (this is fictional, don't get excited). It will also be sitting on ten acres of land, where we can raise our own chickens and grass-fed cows (that we hire someone to care for for us, because ew), for those that are interested. Oh, and we have a giant garden.

Realistically, let's go back to the first sentence - I just look forward to getting our own place and settling into a familiar routine in a new town where we know few people.


In 2014, I HOPE for restored health among loved ones. Too many heartaches lately, too many struggles.


In 2014, I PRAY for new life and living in accordance with God's Will, no matter what comes.



Here's to 2014. Make sure you keep me accountable to do a longer post about 2013 and 2014!

on heavenly thievery

I've been trying to follow alongside my sister-in-law's Month of Gratitude and clearly I've been doing a fantastic job, as I'm doing my first post on the seventh of November.

Today's prompt is to name a song that makes me grateful whenever I hear it. I'm supposed to dance around to it, but little E did that for me. Upon walking into my room while I was playing it, she said, "Well this is sweet," donned her ballerina face (she has one), and plied (past tense of plie? What is it!? I can't find it) to her heart's content.

In lieu of uncoordinated bodily movements, known as dancing to me, or seizing to the rest of the world, I'll just play it over and over until my ears bleed, such as is the way with me.


Take a listen or two hundred alongside me.


This was the song that Mr. B and I danced to as newlyweds at our wedding reception. It's based off of the Song of Songs (Song of Solomon for those who don't use Douay-Rheims) written by Solomon.

Song of Songs 8:6: Put me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm, for love is strong as death, jealousy as hard as hell, the lamps thereof are fire and flames. 

Newlyweds experiencing the flame of love or heat of Houston in June. I've heard it both ways. 

The entire book of Song of Songs parallels the courtship, wedding, and marriage of a young man and woman. Unless you're trying to not understand what Solomon was doing, it's easy to see that the parallels extend to God and His people (updated circa 33AD to Christ and His Church).

I forget about this song a lot, to be honest. I get too caught up in the sounds of children, and homemaking, and silence - blessed, blessed silence - and forget my youngin' years of loving music. But when I remember this song, watch out YouTube, your video view count is about to hit the thousands.

During particularly difficult times, this song immediately calms me. It reminds me of two things: 

Uno. I have the love of a Godly man. I have a husband who gets up with kids at night so I can rest and find health again. He then gets up before dawn to go to a job that he loves, but doesn't pay him and probably doesn't appreciate him, just so that he can find a job that will support us. I have a husband who, without fail, dies to himself daily to make us more comfortable. I have a husband who prays a multiple Rosaries daily, offering the merits for everyone but himself. He isn't recognized for most of what he does, because he does it quietly and behind closed doors, like he's supposed to; there are sacrifices he makes that I'm sure I don't even know about. He staunchly and charitably defends our precious Faith to those who don't believe, while living a life that brings those who do believe closer to Our Lord. I have a husband who, even in the heat of an argument or panic attack, makes me laugh. He composes songs and stories that no one ever hears, but he doesn't waste the talent give him from above. He plays with our girls, reads with them, cuddles with them, and loves their mother. He prays, he loves, he plays, he stands strong and faithful, and I'm grateful that he chose me.

My humble, loving husband, circa 1992. He's sans the hair curl now. And for that I am also grateful.

And to top it off, we have sacramental marriage, though which Our Lord literally pours graces into our souls if we just let Him. 

Dos. Solomon may be hailed as the wisest king ever to have lived, but homeboy got something wrong - we haven't stolen Our Bridegroom's Heart. He's freely given it to us and so desperately wants to shower gifts and blessings and love upon us. 

There are times that my faith is weak. Not Faith - that's firmly rooted - but my heart loses it's focus on that God loves me more than I can understand and will provide. Just as I don't hand sweets to my girls whenever they ask - because even I'm not that dense - He can't hand me all I ask for, right away, at least. The bride in the Song lost her bridegroom for a while, and just kept searching through the night until she found Him. Our Lord knows we won't always stay right by His side, though He wants us to, but He does want us to persevere in finding Him. 

There are three parts to spiritual life - consolation, desolation, and perfect unity. During consolation, we feel the good feelings of being a Christian. The warm fuzz helps us seek out Truth and delve deeper into the Faith. But eventually, our most wise God desires us to want Him and not His consolations, so He puts us through times of desolation. This is when I need to remember to continue to search Him out. He's there, somewhere, waiting for me in the darkness and just wants to know I choose Him and not the blessings He heaps upon me. 

Let's skip the snarky caption here, eh?

This song reminds me to keep my lantern lit in search of Him during those dark nights of the soul when my mind knows Our Lord is somewhere, just out of reach, but my heart doesn't feel it. 

So, on this dreary, rainy seventh day of November, I'm grateful for that reminder. And you're probably thankful that this novel is ending. And it is. Now. The end.

one of these is not like the others

Halloween, or All Hallow's Eve as we're trying to remember to say in our forgetful family, was last night. We braved the scary night at oh-5:30pm when the sun was still bright in the sky and we surprised still-dinnering families with a lively "Happy Halloween!" They gave us extra candy to get us off their doorsteps and we gave them practice for the evening so all-in-all, it was a good run. We were home and the kids were sugared up by the time the sun set and the creepers came out for the night.

Behold, on this Feast of All Saints, our Heavenly interns:

St. Joan of Arc and her trusty sidekick, oft forgotten by historians: Sparkle

St. Ewisabef is Hungry, commonly called St. Elizabeth of Hungary by ignorant masses

Every saintly queen needs a saintly knight only slightly larger than herself to stay safe.

If you look closely, you'll notice my scarf is sporting birds. Therefore, I dressed up as a Bird Lady, or St. Francis of Assisi's sister who is lesser known, but also had a strong devotion to God's small creatures. We'll call her...Frances of Assisi.

St. Elizabeth in search of a hungry soul to feed, namely herself; namely, with candy.

A lawyer, St. Joan, St. Elizabeth, Bird Lady - ten million fictional points to the person that guesses who isn't dressed up. 

Ding ding ding! You win nothing! Mr. B isn't dressed up. We found out, after we checked and rechecked (times 1 million times infinity) the Texas Bar website, that Mr. B passed his Bar Exam and is officially an attorney. All thanks and praise be to Our Lord and Our Lady who got us through a very tough time and gave Mr. B the grace to pass!

Mr B is due a whole lot of praise for his hard-work, dedication, long days, long evenings, and copious amounts of studying. He remained true to the Faith, loyal and loving to his family, and faithful to morals and Truth. We're so very proud of him. I know I couldn't have gone through this journey with anyone else by my side.

The three c's of motherhood (coffee, chocolate, and cocktails) deserve a shout-out, too, for helping me out with the kids while he was gone so much. Holla. 

Now - to hit up Heaven one more time for just oooone more simple dimple request of a job soon, like yesterday. Thankyouverymuch and we'll pray for your intentions in our Rosaries, as well.

Happy All Saints'! I'd post pictures of what we do, but there would only be snapshots of empty candy wrappers, slumbering faces, and staring off into space enjoying the lack of costume-making hovering in the near future. And I can't take pictures of my cute kids while looking like that. 

Seven Stolen Quick Takes

I've stunk at this blogging gig over the last couple of weeks. St. Teresa of Avila once wrote:

“How is it God, that You have given me this hectic busy life when I have so little time to enjoy Your presence? Throughout the day, people are waiting to speak with me, and even at meals, I have to continue talking to people about their needs and problems. During sleep itself I am still thinking and dreaming about the multitude of concerns that surround me. I do all this not for my own sake, but for Yours. I only hope that for You it is truly a sacrifice of love. I know that You are constantly beside me, yet I am usually so  busy that I ignore You. If you want me to remain so busy, please force me to think about and love You even in the midst of such hectic activity. If You do not want me so busy, please release me from it, showing other how they can take over my responsibilities.” 

I feel like that's my life right now (minus the whole being a saint because, try as I may, fail as I may just as much), and if I don't have time for sharing a cuppa with The Creator of the Universe, I sure don't have time for blogging.

Since I don't want to bungee off the blogosphere cliff too terribly far, I thought I'd do the quickest Quick Takes ever - meaning, someone else did all the work and I pulled a break and entry and stole their work.

1. Adorable, creative, cultural. Keep naming things I am not. But bookmarking for a future homeschool project because if there's anything I can do, it's steal other peoples' educational ideas. 

*

2. Let's ruffle some feathers here:

• Uno.
• Dos.

Thoughts? I think we all know where I stand. In the kitchen. Barefoot. Wishing I were pregnant.

*

3. The case against Johnny Football and the claim that, "he's just a kid." Wreck 'em. 

*

4. Sob. Sniffle. Hug kids. A beautiful reminder during a trying time for my comforts that are being chipped away by solo parenting.

*

5. For those that don't know (read: all), I'm a history addict. Fascinating. True? No idea, but I think it's neat and plan to research it more.

*

6. Love. I hope to one day be as hospitable as some I know. For now, I still inch stray laundry and toys out of sight with my toe and feebly apologize that we're still waiting on the rice to cook and offer stale chips with no salsa. Just ask anyone who's been to my inhospitable abode.

*

7. Wreck 'em. I was out of links, so this will do.

*

8. I remembered what I was going to put for the last quick take, but I love The King, so I'm just adding another. My current history research project is about the Hatfields and McCoys because I'm a year late to the game and just discovered the show. Not the most moral of shows, so I didn't finish it, but the real stories fascinate me. Any good, unbias websites about them?

on things that go hiss in the night

Here in the House of B, we're big believers in the preternatural. We're fully aware that spiritual warfare is real, present, and dangerous.

We pull no punches in this realm, or in any, really (I'd apologize to folks who read this who get annoyed with us in real life, but that's a pulled punch). 

If we're told by someone of proper authority that something is dangerous to our souls and invites demons to come on by and hang out, that thing is out of our lives. Questions asked and research done after we've rid our lives of it, and we've always found that the spiritual director (surprise, surprise) has our eternal souls' best interest in mind and they weren't just bored and needed a laugh.

So, short end of the not so short novel is that we take this stuff seriously.

My life.

We live in a land flowing with blessed water and salt.

All this is said to confirm your suspicions that I may need some help and to introduce a story.

I have a friend who is kind of new to the idea of spiritual warfare. She's listened to a sermon or two and read some articles on the topic and is growing increasingly aware of just how prevalent demonic attacks are. 

So she texts me and tells me that there is a hissing in her house. 

She's getting ready for the day and hears a voice-like hiss. Of course she whips around, hoping her children were talking to her. Nothing. She's imagined it. Until she hears it again. 

This time, she yells to her kids to ask if they were talking to her. They answer no. She hesitantly goes back to her business. And hears it again.

This time she grabs the kids and the holy water and hightails it for the door. I applaud her for waiting until the third time because I would have magically remembered a long-forgotten errand on the first hiss.

Preach it, sister.

Remember when I said I'm paranoid and scared of my own shadow? It's true. I still am. And apparently I'm also scared of other peoples' shadows because I've been thinking of The Hiss all day.

Fast forward to this evening. I go for a run - society's word for running and my word for belabored breathing and walking. And of course, when I get back my lovely dripping-wet self just wants to melt into a puddle of lukewarm shower water. As I'm getting ready for the shower - I hear a hiss.  Naturally I start giggling.

***It should be noted here that I'm awkward. Really super awkward. And when I'm uncomfortable, I laugh. A silent, unending laugh that I just can't control. If you're telling me something heartfelt and raw and emotional, please don't take offense that I'm smiling and quietly laughing. I really am empathetic to your emotions, I'm just awkward.***

In my quick-few-second thoughts, I think that it's my mom playing a joke on me because of The Hiss earlier in the day. I continue getting ready for my shower and quietly giggling because what if it's not my mom. And I hear it again.

Now I'm throwing on my clothes because demons can't attack a clothed person (it's a lie I told myself to calm the giggle. Didn't work.). I open the door and there's nothing there and I think surely I imagined it as I've never ever been known to do.

I shut the door and just stand there - enjoying the playback of my life flashing before my eyes. And I hear it again.

I jerk the door open quickly, so as to sprint the ten feet to the nearest holy water bottle (lie #2 - demons can't catching a sprinting woman carrying holy water) and what do I trip over?

At least I was alone this time.

A cat. A flipping cat hissing at another flipping cat.


The end. Tell me I'm not the only one something this ridiculous has happened to?