Ginny Kochis

Ginny Kochis is a Catholic wife, homeschooling mother of three and owner of The Writing Well, a home based reading and writing tutoring service in Northern Virginia. She blogs about faith, homeschooling, cooking and writing at http://www.notsoformulaic.com.

Latest Articles By Ginny Kochis
Five reasons to evangelize, even when you don't want to
Five reasons to evangelize, even when you don't want to
Evangelization is not my cup of tea. I don’t like conflict. I don’t like to be challenged. I also don’t like to appear weak or misinformed, and while I’m definitely knowledgeable when it comes to Church teaching,
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How the Impostor Syndrome hurts Catholic women, and what to do about it
How the Impostor Syndrome hurts Catholic women, and what to do about it
In the range of Catholic family size, ours is relatively small. Three children can seem like a lot to the rest of the world, though, so when I take my circus into town, someone inevitably tells me I’ve got my hands full.
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How to do small things with great love, even when we are tired
How to do small things with great love, even when we are tired
Wrestling a toddler into his diaper is the worst time to consider one’s current status. And yet there I was, attempting to stave off my son’s third Huggie death roll, staring darkly out the window at the hydrangeas below. I was done. Done with the diapering. Done with the nagging. Done with the unmade beds, the cluttered countertops, the constant wave of stuff threatening to overtake my home.
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The Gifts of the Spirit for Mothers
The Gifts of the Spirit for Mothers
I was confirmed in the Catholic Church at thirteen. My sponsor had been in a car accident a week or so prior, so my father stood in as a proxy. He placed his hand on my shoulder during the rite of confirmation, its heft a testament of an earthly and heavenly father’s love.
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On ambulance rides, St. John of the Cross, and learning how to love
On ambulance rides, St. John of the Cross, and learning how to love
I was supposed to host Junior Book Club that Friday. I’d spent most of the week trying to shorten my miles-long to-do list. It never seemed to get any shorter, and by the end of the week I was fixated on it. So much so that Thursday afternoon found me crafting a last minute plan of action.
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Finding God's will in the novena
Finding God's will in the novena
The first time I prayed a novena I was 24 and on my way to work. My father was in the hospital, a semi-annual occurrence for a heart patient with a medical history longer than the Mississippi and twice as wide. One week prior, I had driven past the entrance to my parents’ neighborhood, only to come upon an ambulance on the side of the road.
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Quiet miracles: lessons learned in grief
Quiet miracles: lessons learned in grief
I was three years old the first time my father had open heart surgery, a quadruple bypass that saved him from a widow maker. My memory of that event comes from a photograph. We’re in a wheelchair outside the hospital’s main entrance, he with his trademark goofy grin and dark hair; me in a blue and white pinafore perched comfortably in his lap.
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The Other Side of the Fall: Humility and Postpartum Depression
The Other Side of the Fall: Humility and Postpartum Depression
Writing about postpartum depression is sticky, and I've erased more versions of this post than I can count. Why? Probably this little issue I have with pride. You know that saying, "pride goeth before a fall"? For me, pride has consistently goneth before all. I don't like being wrong.
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A Mother's Rule of Lent
A Mother's Rule of Lent
When my middle child was about six months old, I decided that attending daily Mass would be part of our Lenten efforts. Dear reader, I am sure you can tell where this is going.
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Pondering in my Heart
Pondering in my Heart
Twenty weeks into my third pregnancy, I found myself crying hysterically as the ultrasound technician glided a magic wand over my swollen belly. She had just told me I was having a boy. I crumbled.
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Whispers in the Wind
Whispers in the Wind
Since the day started, I’ve stepped on a Lego, an oddly shaped block, one 1980s vintage Fisher Price Little Person and a pet rock. The poor little person got chucked across the living room in a fit of quiet rage, his blue cap pinging every so satisfyingly off the front door frame. The other items fared much better, my foot getting the worst of our confrontations.
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