So we started praying the O Antiphons today and a good thing, too, because that is about the only thing I accomplished.
Tell me again the Latin for “bone tired?”
We need all the help we can get on a Monday morning, don’t you agree?
I’m blaming it on the wild hormonal rollercoaster that I’ve been riding for the past eight days or so. Woo hoo! Now she’s manic; now she’s morose! My poor family.
Is it any surprise, then, that when I asked my husband if I could go to a movie with some friends last night, he handed me my hat and said, “What’s your hurry?” We saw this film which—I warn you—is not exactly Catholic (although one may argue that the title of it is). Let’s just say that it earned its “R” rating. It was also gripping and extremely well filmed, and it was just what this sad little lady needed to forget all her problems for two hours.
Plus the lead actor was just cute cute cute. (Mr. Tumnus? Can that be you?!)
Still, when I returned home after the movie to (in all fairness) my even cuter husband and saw that he had neglected to light the Advent wreath candles with the children, (including the rose-colored third candle which, as everyone knows, is always the most exciting), I felt that familiar stab of mommy guilt.
“They did ask about it, though,” my husband offered helpfully.
Consequently I spent a good portion of the morning making homemade reparation muffins so we could light our candles over breakfast and discuss the meaning of “O Sapientia.” (Wisdom: a Latin word meaning having the sense to not do more than you are up to.)
And then I spent another good portion of the morning cleaning up the mess I made making the muffins.
And then I fell asleep with my face in my coffee.
Ad Jesum per Mariam,
Postscript: As I type out this post, the sun is setting and the schoolwork is just beginning in earnest. Hey, we’re homeschoolers! This is what we do. Plus I’m thinking the kids can always do their lessons in the bath if they really need to. The physics of soap-on-a-rope, anyone?