It’s 5:34am and I just settled into our leather armchair to pray. I’m up before the kids, a mug of coffee resting on the fireplace beside me. After a few, precious moments of silence, I crack open the book that my spiritual director recommended, Saint John of the Cross, Master of Contemplation by Father Donald Haggerty.
I have to read this book in the morning. If I pick it up during an evening prayer time, I fall asleep. Every. Single. Time. But in the mornings, pencil in hand, I can make it through a few pages. Sometimes, like today, I still only make it a few sentences in before having to stop, think, and pray:
“This focus on a desire for giving delight to God aligns us to the pursuit of God’s will. To find joy in giving delight to God can return to animate desire in all our activities, in the most relaxed settings and in the most tense circumstances of any trial. This same advice is also a matter of exercising deep faith, as it requires that we actually believe we can touch the Heart of God and give delight to him by our choices, particularly by our sacrificial choices.”
I think about the past few weeks, our home taken over by a slow moving stomach bug, leaving the house a war zone. Discarded barf bowls and mountains of laundry are everywhere. I am perpetually behind on everything from chores to emails. Snow day after snow day after snow day derails our best laid plans. Sub-zero temperatures make getting out of the house impossible.
Oh. This is the saint-making stuff. This is how He’s inviting me to become more like Him.
I look at the clock: 5:57am. Ada will wake up any moment, ready for cuddles and breakfast. Then the rest of the crew will slowly wake up and it’ll be like drinking from a firehouse until after 8pm when everyone is in bed.
But I’m ready. Today is the day that I want to find the Father in the small, mundane work. Today is the day that I want touch the heart of God and sacrifice small things for Him.
At least, that’s my plan.
Then it’s “Mom. Mom. Mom.” and “Wipe me” and suctioning out a trach. It’s diaper changes, cereal pouring, purée prepping, g-tube pumps, and a grumpy four year old whose pants or sock seams are, as always, so uncomfortable.
Then it’s apologizing, do-overs, and gentler voices. It’s hugs and prayers and goodbyes as we send Joseph off to work for the day. It’s preschool letters and books and snacks. And dance parties and grocery orders and never-ending laundry. It’s more g-tube feeds and making plans and taking forty minutes to get out of the house. It’s therapies and snacks and prescriptions and snacks and crafts at the dining room table. And snacks.
They say that the days are long and the years are short. And I know this is true—sometimes when I sneak back into the girls’ room before I crawl into bed myself, I catch a quick glimpse at what they will look like as teenagers. It’s going so fast. Maeve will be five this spring and I am in awe of how fast half a decade with our sweet girl has flown by.
But sometimes it feels like the days are long and the years are long and the hours between 3pm and 5pm unexplainably stretch on forever.
Sometimes I wish the Lord desired to make me holy through something a little more glamorous than disciplining and body secretions. But that’s not His will. Instead, His will is this reality right here in our home. It’s this daily reality that I know He has made me for.
And I’m just not that great at saying “yes” to His will. But the gift of these years with little kids is that there is another day tomorrow that looks (almost) exactly like today. Eating, naps, letting the dog out to romp in the snow. Bath times and loading kids in and out of coats and car seats.
Endless opportunities to choose Him and to become more like Him.
Now for this first Naptime Notes of 2024! I’m sending you this newsletter a little later in the month than normal. But the girls are both napping (miracle of miracles) and William and I are hanging out here in the listening room. It’s yet another snow day here in Kansas and a cleared calendar means sneaking a few minutes here this afternoon to jot down some naptime notes and send them your way.
Read on for book recommendations, a poem I’ve loved, as well as some hopes and dreams for the new year. Thank you for reading along!
Songs and podcasts I’m tuning into lately:
The books and Substack reads keeping me up at night:
Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot. This was our book club read for January! Eliot was influenced by Saint John of the Cross, so reading both of their work side by side was really beautiful. Despite years of poetry club, there were still times with this book that I wondered what in the world I was reading—which just let me know that I will need to let the book rest on my shelf for a little while before pulling it down to read again.
True Grit by Charles Portis. I have found memories of watching the John Wayne adaption of this book with my dad growing up, so I loved seeing this as our February book club read (that I’m getting a bit of a head start on). I’ve laughed out loud at the banter between characters and am really enjoying sneaking a few chapters of this book in while the kids play.
No Drama Discipline by Daniel Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson. There’s been a lot of change in our home over the past months and I was looking for a resource to help me learn more about our kids in moments of tantrums, tears, and fights over clothes. This book has been a great mix of information and practical tools for teaching and parenting all of our kids.
The books I’m reading (and re-reading!) with the Langr littles:
📕At Night by Jonathan Bean 📕Big Dog, Little Dog by P.D. Eastman 📕Grandmothers Galore! by Judith Henderson and Ellen Yeomans 📕Hooked on Books by Margaret Chiu Greanias 📕Llama Llama Mad at Mama by Anna Dewdney 📕Noah’s Ark by Peter Spier 📕Where’s My Mom? by Julia Donaldson 📕Ox Cart Man by Donald Hall📕Maddie and Mabel Take the Lead by Kari Allen
A question for you:
I stopped into our local coffee shop a few weeks ago and the barista and I chatted about book goals. He’d read forty-six books last year. Forty-six.
In 2022, I read twenty-two books. Well, that’s not entirely true. I read hundreds of books, and most of them were by Kate DiCamillo and Tomie DePaola—I’m not complaining. But twenty-two of those hundreds were chapter books written for adults.
When 2023 came around, I decided it was time for a theme instead of a number. So I declared it the “Year of the Re-read”. I enjoyed revisiting books I hadn’t read since high school, this time savoring them instead of rush-reading to finish a book report. Favorites included Northanger Abbey, My Antonia, The Penderwicks, and anything by Louise Penny.
In 2024, I’m excited to continue re-reading, but also finding new favorites. My to-read stack includes Brideshead Revisited, The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry, All the Light We Cannot See, A Severe Mercy, The Grey Wolf, The Montessori Child, and North Woods. And while I love naming a number of books I want to read in a year, this time around I’m being gentle with myself and just enjoying the read.
What books are you looking forward to in the new year? Tell me about them in the comments section—I’d love to hear your recommendations!
A fun winter activity that my toddlers adored:
We’ve had so much snow but it’s been paired with so many sick days. So when the kids begged to go outside while still recovering from barfing their guts out, I brought the snow inside.
They loved it! Maeve particularly loved being able to wear her sleeveless dress paired with her favorite parts of winter gear. I put the snow in a styrofoam cooler we had in the garage. Then we gathered all of our Disney Frozen toys and had a great time. Hot chocolate and cozy blankets followed after everyone’s hands got a little chilly!
Something(s) I’m looking forward to:
After seeing some incredible recipes for sourdough discards, I decided to give sourdough a shot. I’m equal parts excited and intimidated. Friends have reassured me that it’s not too hard, but there’s a bit of a learning curve. Are you a sourdough aficionado? Could you share your top tips with me in the comments?
I’m also looking forward to some spring gardening. Joseph and I decided to use some of our front yard space for garden beds this year and dreams of digging in the dirt with my kids and spending time outside again are dancing in my head. How about you? Do you have gardening aspirations? Are you starting from seeds or picking up plants from your favorite nursery? I’d love to hear about it!
An eclectic collection of links to some my favorite things this month:
I bought these overalls and I can’t wait to break them in with some spring gardening // These frames are helping me keep all the preschool art projects organized // These pajamas are what all three of our kids are in almost every night // This beer was a favorite of Joseph and I’s over the holiday season // This Christmas gift is making quiet time actually happen in our home //
A poem to leave you with:
If you’ve never picked up Four Quartets by T.S. Eliot, I highly recommend it. Pick up a copy from your library, read it online, or listen to Eliot read it. It’s a complex poem that might leave you asking yourself what in the world am I reading?! But it will also push you and make you think. I’ll close out this month’s newsletter with my favorite passage from the fourth poem, Little Gidding:
We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, remembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one.
Thanks for reading along
In His Sacred Heart,
Chloe
p.s. Remember watching PBS as a kid and hearing that famous line? This program was made possible by contributions to your PBS station from viewers like you. Thank you!
Well, Naptime Notes and the Letters to Women podcast is made possible by readers. Most mornings, I’m up at 5:00am to write (and drink coffee) before my kids start stirring. That sounds nuts—but writing helps me be human. And recording podcast conversations after tucking the Langr littles into bed is something I’m so excited to start up again. I’d be honored if you’d support my work through a paid subscription.
There’s so many incredible things in the works for the Letters to Women podcast that I can’t wait to share with you. Paid subscribers get early access to Letters to Women podcasts along with exclusive essays.
Thank you!
1. ...and snacks. Always with the snacks. I think our Costco membership is primarily for toilet paper and snacks.
2. Gosh this is so relatable in the thick of a Midwest winter.
3. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed True Grit!! I didn’t know what to expect but I thoroughly enjoyed it.
4. Sending you prayers for a healthy Langr house and lots of snuggles and dancing and hot coffee.
Thank you for getting up early to share your stories with us. They deeply matter.