the mommy memoir

Snowy Night

2009-12-19T01:24:00.006-06:00

There is something so pure and peaceful about nighttime snow. After I checked on my sleeping son, I peered out of his window and smiled as hearty flakes fell upon our piece of the dream.

40 Days For Life: Thoughts and Motivations

2009-11-01T23:28:00.019-06:00

What an amazing time. 40 Days for Life has drawn to a close and now we give thanks and rejoice in the amazing strides made as a direct result of this campaign. 534 human beings saved! Eight health care providers and staff members left abortion clinics, citing an inability to continue to partake in the wrongdoing. Living proof (literally) of the power of prayer.

So on this brisk November night, we collectively caught our breath, offered thanks, and by candle light, joined together in song and prayer. This vigil has ended but there will be another. And another. You can count on it.

Of course, there was a bit of name-calling. Loser, psycho, freak, woman hater, nut bag, nut job, and whack job all come to mind. Par for the course, apparently. After a while, the shrill verbal assaults become minor background noise compared to the booming voice of prayer. When you know you're doing right, an angry shriek of contempt becomes small and irrelevant.

Still, by and large, reaction to the vigil has been overwhelmingly positive. Passing cars frequently honked as a show of support. Shouts of praise and encouragement were commonplace. It was clear by the number of people offering support that 40 Days participants were appreciated and welcome. We were clearly viewed as peaceful, unyielding opposition to the great evil occurring at Aanchor Health Services.

And let us not mince words. A great evil it is. This so-called "health center" offers suction abortion until 17 and 1/2 weeks gestation. 17 and 1/2 weeks! And it does so in a manner so cavalier, so brazen, it's nearly unbelievable. With soothing verbiage and evasive terminology, they avoid the brutal reality of their trade. I encourage even the most ardent abortion supporter to view their website and justify the unapologetic marketing of this heinous and unthinkable act.

A pre-born child, 17.5 weeks gestation.

As you might expect, many questions have been asked of me these past 40 days...Don't you have a better use of your time? Why are you so extreme? Why don't you people care about born children? Are you anti-woman? What about cases of rape and incest? What if the mother's life is at stake? Are you willing to take care of an unwanted child? Why are you pushing your religious beliefs on everyone else? How are YOU so sure of when life begins?

In summary, here is where I and millions of others stand. The words are my own:

**Human life is valuable, precious, and God given. Its value is not determined by age, ability or lack thereof, productivity or lack thereof, ethnicity, class, sexual orientation, or even by behavior. Life has worth in and of itself.

**Therefore, life begins when it starts. At conception. All other determinations are arbitrary, subject to interpretation and error. The risk of using gestational markers to define what it means to be human is an absurd and arrogant exercise. Obama was correct when he said that asking him to define when life begins was a request "above his pay grade". It is for all of us. Therefore, we take no chances and accept this gift when it is given. If an error is to be made, let it be on the side of life.

**As a corallary, opposition to abortion is not based upon nebulous, vaguely defined motivations. Nor is it a matter of foisting obscure religious beliefs on our fellow citizens. It literally is a matter of life and death. As such, even our opposition must logically allow that we are compelled to act by defending innocents and seeking to end elective abortion.

**Abortion is harmful to not only the infant, obviously, but to all those involved, especially women. The guilt and regret associated with the act is often life long. Despite cultural norms, most women are innately aware of their responsibility to protect children, not dispose of them. Psychological pain is often profound, despite any initial relief a woman may feel in freeing herself from a perceived burden. Silent No More, an organization comprised of women who regret their elective abortions, bears witness to this reality.

**In the rare but often cited instances where rape or incest results in pregnancy, the child is blameless and innocent. One tragedy should not be compounded by another.

**In the equally rare cases where pregnancy puts the life of the mother in imminent, grave danger, she must defer to her conscience and act accordingly. In my opinion, God does not ask that we die in order to bear a child. We are permitted to defend our own natural life when it is truly at stake. Most religious leaders agree with this perspective.

**Adoption is a realistic and loving alternative for those unable to care for a child. An arsenal of resources exist to assist women in the midst of a crisis pregnancy. The Gabriel Project is but one among countless others.

**The right to unfettered access to abortion nearly eliminates the importance of fatherhood and the inherent rights associated with it.

**We wish no harm to those providing abortion. We pray for their enlightenment and for the conversion of their hearts and minds. Most importantly, we pray for their souls. However misguided, they too are in need of our compassion.

**When it comes to participating in this and other pro-life efforts, my time is always well spent.

*****************

Watch for the next 40 Days For Life campaign...returning to hundreds of communities across America during Lent, Spring 2010. Please join us.

40 Days For Life

2009-07-28T01:33:00.001-05:00

MIA

2009-03-16T01:20:00.003-05:00

Written words are at a premium for me these days. Maybe that's why I've gravitated to Facebook. I spout out a few lines and move on. It's the K-Mart version of blogging but it's all I can muster. Sorry to the folks who check-in frequently.

I'm just not in the mood for this right now.

Lent is Here People: Start Suffering!

2009-02-24T20:41:00.009-06:00

(I'm semi-recycling a post here. I thought it generally got my point across last year. One more time on this one, if you don't mind.)

If suffering is the objective, we've certainly got that covered with these Lenten staples:

Oh well. So be it. I love Lent, actually. Guilt, suffering, and penance are wonderful filters for a dusty soul. Talk about the ultimate in spiritual spring cleaning! When Easter arrives, you just kinda feel scrubbed and spit-shined. On the inside. Deprivation also gives scale to the bounty and abundance in our jam packed lives. When you're doin' without, you just appreciate things more. Even manufactured fish rectangles. Yum yum.

And by the way, Sister Mary Martha, always true to form, summarily put the smack down on a reader last year for querying if abstinence from sugar, fat, and salt qualifies as high-end Lenten deprivation. On the face of it, Sister explained, the gentle reader's suggestion ranks right up there in the domain of self-induced miseries. As long as there is no personal gain from the offering. In other words, if she's doing without those yummy additives for Lent AND for the purpose of looking especially hot in her slammin' size 4 jeans, it's a no go. Your Lenten sacrifice has to be free of material side benefits and kick backs. Even if you're from Illinois.

So start figuring out which form of deprivation makes you the most miserable, and come tomorrow, start suffering. And for the love of Pete...don't look for Lenten loopholes in order to take a break from your wretched 40 days. Buck up and deal. You'll live.

P.S...I Love You Too

2009-01-28T00:12:00.008-06:00

Goal: Secure protection from under-bed/in-closet monsters, boogie men, and various extra-terrestrial life forms.

Strategy: Be cool, stay polite, make it casual. Leave note in very obvious place, like on mom's computer keyboard. Close with the three words that are sure to seal the deal.

Lessons Learned: The Pinewood Derby

2009-01-25T21:01:00.015-06:00

The Pinewood Derby. A time honored tradition among Cub Scouts and their parents. A chance for father and son (in our case father, mother, and son) to create something out of next to nothing, all in the hope that your certain something ends up being the fastest something to roll down a hill. Gravity is your ally. Your foes...friction and air resistance.

Your standard issue, regulation materials: one 5 ounce block of wood, 4 nails, and 4 plastic wheels. There you have it. The possibilities are limited only by your time, talent, and M.I.T. level engineering capabilities.

In the Chicago area, we don't have the luxury of housing production in garages or outside areas--It's just too cold. So the basement it is. Mom is nervous about paint, glue, etc. invariably landing on hardwood floors but trying to stay in the spirit of the thing. In other words, I shut-up.

Drill/carving dry-run. Note E's intensity.

Now, as you can imagine, there are some folks who just go over the top and once over again when it comes to manufacturing the most aerodynamic, friction free, expertly crafted wooden car known to the derby world.

Others opt for form over function...

And then there is E's, which is somewhere in the middle. Unfortunately, I have yet to snap a photo of it and the cars are still impounded. So I'll have to add that later. Suffice it to say, it was something like this:

The night before the big race, cars are officially weighed to ensure that the 5 ounce maximum is not exceeded. Then the tiny vehicles are impounded. These Cub Scout leaders know a thing or two about Cub Scout parents. Surely these cubmasters realize that if they don't confiscate the engineering marvels, moms and dads across the land will engage in all-nighters to perfect their creations. Worse still, parents are famous for showing up late no matter what start time is indicated. Better to impound the car the night before rather than battle it out with dad as to why little Cooper's wonder machine cannot be included. After all, they were "only 45 minutes late". I digress.

After several qualifying races, E placed a very respectable 4th place. Mom and Dad...jumping up and down ecstatic. E...let's just say his reaction was a bit more sedate...

J and I were thrilled that E not only participated but that he received a real, honest to goodness trophy. And guess what? It didn't say, "Honorable Mention for Those With a Pulse". It really, really said 4th place. E, on the other hand, was going for first and was bewildered by his parents' slacker mentality. To his credit, he held it together. But as you can see, he's also not beaming with pride.

So you see friends, we're still learning. We spent so much time on the car and the design ideas and the plans and the whole whoopity do dang dingle, we neglected the most important, most valuable part here. The fun. The joy. And somewhere along the line, E picked up on it. So for the time being, J and I are on an over-achiever moratorium. Call it a self imposed time out for mommy and daddy. Rehab for the results addicted parent.

Because we sure want to see a lot more of his pre-trophy demeanor:

And less of this:

E is pictured fourth, coincidentally.

Yes siree. We're learning, right along with him.

As for the trophy...well, let's just say E had a change of heart. On his way to bed that night, he retrieved the lesser award from where he had nearly discarded it several hours earlier.

"I guess this isn't so bad, huh?", he asked as he polished the trophy adornment with the top of his PJs.

"Not bad at all my sweet little bear. Not bad at all", I reassured him. And I held back a lump as we marched up the stairs to his bedroom, trophy clenched in his still baby-like, chubby hand. There are so many of these every day lessons in store for my little boy. And for us parents. You can always win another trophy. But you can never relive the joy of that exact, particular moment. You just have to hope that a similar opportunity presents itself. And with God's grace, there will be many more.

Enjoying our blessings as they are given instead of lamenting over the prize or the award not received. A goal for the whole family, apparently. And for many others, no doubt.

Inauguration Day...A Letter to My Children

2009-01-20T12:54:00.005-06:00

Dearest E and JoJo,

Today was big. Bigger than you can imagine or even understand right about now. It just so happens that on this day, the country stood together and welcomed that nice man, Barack Obama, as President of the United States! Wowie, wow, wow. He stood on the steps of Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. and promised before God, the country, and the entire world that he will do his very best to lead our country. I believe he takes that promise seriously and that he will work very hard to be a good leader. In other words, his heart is in the right place. And you know mommy thinks that's not such a bad place to start.

But there is a problem. While he was running for president, I'm sure you guys figured out that I didn't agree with Mr. Obama about lots of things. Many other grown-ups in our town and in our part of the country feel the same way. It's just that he does not share some of the same ideas that many of the people you know and love happen to consider very, very important. And so, I can only hope, only pray, that maybe he will change his mind about some stuff. I don't know if this will happen or not. But I'm willing to give him a chance. That's only fair, right?

Just for today, I'm not thinking about what's not going to work. Nor about any danger that we face now and in the future. I'm just proud of our country. And yes, E, his is, as you noticed, a brown man. His ethnic background is referred to as African-American. Because he is the very first African-American to become President of the United States, this is a very big deal. A ginormous, big, honkin' deal. Remember how we talked about something being historical? This event is definitely historical.

And this is exactly what he had to say as soon as he became president (His speech made mommy cry in a good, happy, sad, mommy kind of way):

My fellow citizens:

I stand here today humbled by the task before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed, mindful of the sacrifices borne by our ancestors. I thank President Bush for his service to our nation, as well as the generosity and cooperation he has shown throughout this transition.

Forty-four Americans have now taken the presidential oath. The words have been spoken during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the oath is taken amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, America has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remained faithful to the ideals of our forbearers, and true to our founding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Americans.

That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred. Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; businesses shuttered. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings further evidence that the ways we use energy strengthen our adversaries and threaten our planet.

These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence across our land - a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its sights.

Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America - they will be met.

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.

In reaffirming the greatness of our nation, we understand that greatness is never a given. It must be earned. Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less. It has not been the path for the faint-hearted - for those who prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things - some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their labor, who have carried us up the long, rugged path towards prosperity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the West; endured the lash of the whip and plowed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in places like Concord and Gettysburg; Normandy and Khe Sahn.

Time and again these men and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a better life. They saw America as bigger than the sum of our individual ambitions; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the journey we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began. Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capacity remains undiminished. But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions - that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

For everywhere we look, there is work to be done. The state of the economy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act - not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together. We will restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories. And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.

Now, there are some who question the scale of our ambitions - who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many big plans. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten what this country has already done; what free men and women can achieve when imagination is joined to common purpose, and necessity to courage.

What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them - that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works - whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward. Where the answer is no, programs will end. And those of us who manage the public's dollars will be held to account - to spend wisely, reform bad habits, and do our business in the light of day - because only then can we restore the vital trust between a people and their government.

Nor is the question before us whether the market is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate wealth and expand freedom is unmatched, but this crisis has reminded us that without a watchful eye, the market can spin out of control - and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the prosperous. The success of our economy has always depended not just on the size of our Gross Domestic Product, but on the reach of our prosperity; on our ability to extend opportunity to every willing heart - not out of charity, but because it is the surest route to our common good.

As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals. Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a charter expanded by the blood of generations. Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience's sake. And so to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with sturdy alliances and enduring convictions. They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint.

We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these principles once more, we can meet those new threats that demand even greater effort - even greater cooperation and understanding between nations. We will begin to responsibly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afghanistan. With old friends and former foes, we will work tirelessly to lessen the nuclear threat, and roll back the specter of a warming planet. We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.

To the Muslim world, we seek a new way forward, based on mutual interest and mutual respect. To those leaders around the globe who seek to sow conflict, or blame their society's ills on the West - know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you destroy. To those who cling to power through corruption and deceit and the silencing of dissent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.

As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us today, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment - a moment that will define a generation - it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.

For as much as government can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the American people upon which this nation relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a friend lose their job which sees us through our darkest hours. It is the firefighter's courage to storm a stairway filled with smoke, but also a parent's willingness to nurture a child, that finally decides our fate.

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends - hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism - these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility - a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

This is the price and the promise of citizenship.

This is the source of our confidence - the knowledge that God calls on us to shape an uncertain destiny.

This is the meaning of our liberty and our creed - why men and women and children of every race and every faith can join in celebration across this magnificent mall, and why a man whose father less than sixty years ago might not have been served at a local restaurant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are and how far we have traveled. In the year of America's birth, in the coldest of months, a small band of patriots huddled by dying campfires on the shores of an icy river. The capital was abandoned. The enemy was advancing. The snow was stained with blood. At a moment when the outcome of our revolution was most in doubt, the father of our nation ordered these words be read to the people:

"Let it be told to the future world...that in the depth of winter, when nothing but hope and virtue could survive...that the city and the country, alarmed at one common danger, came forth to meet [it]."

America. In the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words. With hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.

What a time we live in, dear children. What a time, indeed.

Happy 4th Birthday JoJo!

2009-01-06T06:37:00.000-06:00

January 6, 2005

How lucky I am to be your mommy. What do I tell you every single night of your life?? I love, love, love you to the moon, and to the stars, and back again. Plus a little more.

1st Birthday...Chrome dome and power cheeks!

2nd Birthday - First Poofy Dress. Last Poofy Dress. That's the last time you let me put you in one!

3rd Birthday...a bruise and a bink. The t-shirt is so much more your style JoJo!

4th Birthday..A party with some pre-school friends!

Happy, happy birthday!!!!!!

Evil on Four Legs

2009-01-02T11:15:00.021-06:00

"He's ruining our lives and eating all our steak".

Napoleon Dynamite lamented over the misery unleashed by Uncle Rico. Too bad for us that his pithy observation applies in our home as well... In our case, however, the culprit isn't a washed-up high school football player from the 80s. Far more menacing, our foe is a smelly, slobbering, gas emitting soul crusher names Winston. And he's a pug.

I'm told he belongs to us but I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around that particular condemnation. Anyway, the point may very well be mute. Looking at the matter from his perspective, I'm sure this canine playah is assured we're all HIS...His bitches, that is.

At the moment, I'm not convinced that we're dealing with a force of this world. That possibility was explored in Men in Black. Call it a movie, call it fiction if you will. I say it's prophecy. If a creature has the ability to move both bulging eyes simultaneously, in an opposite trajectory, you do start questioning the validity of his earthly origins. My Irish breatheren dismiss the phenomenon as one eye lookin' at ya and the other lookin' for ya. Some call it the east-wester affliction. I, on the other hand, am not so sure. The wandering, googly eyes may be a manifestation of something far more malevolent. Stay tuned.

Oh, by the way, did I fail to mention that if you squeeze his neck, even slightly, one or both of those glassy orbs will pop right out of his head? Here's the kicker: If you insert the displaced eyeball back in its socket, sight resumes in an instant. And you think your retriever's play-dead trick is impressive! Then again, your Rover was sired by a shelter mutt. Maybe even by a show dog. But make no mistake about it. Winston is spawn. Of who or of what is a notion too chilling to fathom.

G.I. Tract of Steel...or Some Unidentifiable Alloy
We're told that there are a host of ingested substances that can kill a dog. Reportedly, pugs are susceptible as any other canine. Uh huh. How then, do I explain Winston's consumption of all manner of flora, fauna, animal, vegetable, and mineral? My friend Eileen once told me that her rotweiler ate two-by-fours like they were potato chips. Not chewed on them, mind you. Gobbled them whole. Long ago, our beagle devoured an entire orange tree. Roots, trunk, branches and fruit. Still, these doggy chew-fests pale compared to Winston's misadventures. Books, computer wires, conduit, drywall, nails, legos, Polly Pockets, pens, crayons, socks, shoes, boots, houseplants, cleaning supplies, dolls, roof tiles, seat cushions. These household items have simply vanished. Poof. And that's just the beginning.

Winston has what appears to be a potato. One of an entire sack that "just disappeared".

How about underwear? Another pug owner mentioned she's convinced that her four legged ham hock positively levitates when he encounters a pile of dirty laundry. I believe it. Around here, Dad's hummin' Calvin's are pug-manna-from-heaven. And my undergarments...Let's just say he can pass bra under wire through the backend while gobbling up some other equally delectable morsel up at the bow. In the bat of one cattywompus, misaligned eye. Two minutes later he unapologetically nudges me for his dinner.

E's Nintendo DS is rumored to have fallen prey although I'm hesitant to mention it. E's yet to complete his grieving process and it's a very touchy subject. To say the least. On a slightly more positive note, my Blackberry was rescued from the mini-beast's slobbering jowls moments before it vanished into his black hole of a gut. But the gelatinous, malodorous goo that remains on the device has rendered it unusable. No solvent nor solution known to man has the ability to decontaminate this phone. May it rest in peace.

To use my friend Monica's favorite phrase, I now present you with the pièce de résistance. There's no way to say this without inducing nausea, so I apologize in advance. Winston's all-time favorite delicacy is cat poo. For him, freshly acquired cat poo is the equivalent of a sublime French truffle. If it's straight out of the cat box, all the better. The added texture only heightens his gastronomic ecstasy. Meanwhile, after recovering from a family barf-o-rama, I concede that this thing, this purported animal, is slowly, insidiously robbing me of my humanity. Surely, Saint Francis himself would give me a high-five if I somehow mustered up the courage to oust hell dog from our semi-peaceful home. But who am I kidding?

Our stick-of-butter-on-four-legs has somehow worked his way into our hearts. Maybe he trampled and pillaged his way there. I don't know. Let's just say we love this incredibly destructive, sometimes amazingly stupid animal. Somehow we overlook the odors that instantly clear a room. His ability to shed like a buffalo--well, that's also part of the deal. Surely, we use sublimation as a way to cope when it comes to his daily frenzy of destruction. Yes, we throw our hands up in total acquiescence. The "dog" is here to stay. As for our family, if we all just disappear, you know who (or what) is to blame.

You've been warned.

Haters, Hecklers, and Sad Sacks

2009-01-02T00:35:00.005-06:00

One of my resolutions this year is to "let go and let God" with a couple of folks who just, well...bum me out. I wish you no harm, I pray for your safety, your health and most certainly for your happiness. 'Cause it sure seems like you missed the happiness bandwagon somehow or other. Truly, If I could magically bestow you with happiness, with peace, with contentment, I'd do it in a heartbeat. If I could replace your missing happiness "chips", I'd run right out to Best Buy, right this very minute, and swoop up the most powerful, the most robust tranquility processors that my money could buy. Or, more correctly, what my MasterCard credit limit would cover.

But muchachas...count me out when it comes to engaging in your pissing contests. Cross me off as a guest at your never ending pity parties. If you do nothing else, grant me this--just let me be. You know those browser bookmarks with mommymemoir.com--hit the delete button. Go be a drag on someone else's time. Keep lurking behind the scenes if you want. But lurking is all you'll ever get to do on this play date.

When you can play nicely, maybe I'll reconsider. In the meantime, go hate somewhere else.

What I'm Reading

2008-12-27T00:13:00.004-06:00

I vowed not to post until after the new year and I'm generally sticking to that commitment. Still, I just couldn't avoid sharing what's on my nightstand.

I'm riveted. After her father's death, Bliss Broyard discovers he hid his black heritage and chose to "pass" as white for most of his life. "One Drop" is part biography, part memoir--and a MUST READ for anyone who has questioned his or her own racial background. Broyard's careful, sometimes tedious genealogical analysis is tempered by a powerful depiction of her father's life and the motivations that shaped his decision to disavow his black heritage. Equally compelling is Broyard's struggle to determine what her newly discovered racial identity means for her personally.

I haven't been able to put it down.

More on this later, no doubt.

Happy Birthday to All Five of You!

2008-12-15T20:29:00.006-06:00

My baby sister Meghan is the 30 today! I still remember seeing her for the first time through the viewing glass at O'Connor Hospital in 1978. Can that really be 30 years ago??

And to those no-longer-little-siblings who all just happened to be born on the same day...Happy 16th birthday Matt, Tim, Sarah, and Ryan. You're goin' mobile kiddos!

Christmas is calling ...See You in '09

2008-12-15T08:27:00.007-06:00

My Christmas preparedness level is less than what it should be. So, I have to lay off the blog and just get it all done. I'll be back shortly after the new year.

As a parting gesture, I leave you with a few memorable Tacky Christmas Yard photos...

Merry Christmas everyone!

Violations: W.T.H.?!?!, Unharmonious Arrangement, Griswold Family, King Kong Complex, Frequent Lighter, More is NOT Less, Multiple Clauses, Intermingling, Snowman Inlaws

Have a Merry Christmas and a Goodyear.

Violation: Less is not more.

The birth of Christ is like a carnival...Violations: Unharmonious Arrangement

Violations: Frequent Lighter Card, More Is NOT Less, Multiple Clauses, Snowman In-Laws, Intermingling

How Do You Rank?

2008-12-12T17:02:00.005-06:00

Sister Mary Martha just posted this and I LOVE IT. Some of you know I have been complaining for years about the way some women CHOOSE to dress, especially at Mass. The ones who sashay up to Communion in attire that is fitting for a night club in Las Vegas. Or dare I say...the street corner. (Yes, I said it.) Anyway, I'm glad Sister decided to weigh in.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm all for stylish, attractive, etc. We don't have to run around in prairie dresses like we're fresh from the compound. I'm not suggesting that bathing suits extend past the knees. I'm just talking about clothes that flatter but don't display everything you have to offer. Or don't..as the case may be. I think of women like Audrey Hepburn and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. Their style epitomized femininity but was never about vulgarity. On the flip side, Pamela Anderson stands out. Sometimes I just shake my head and wonder what she could possibly be thinking?? (As a side note, she really is a beautiful woman who actually looks her best when she's not all tramped up ((Oracle calls it tarted out)). I once saw a photo of Ms. Anderson with very little make-up and wearing casual jeans with a modest t-shirt. She was far prettier that way. Oh well.)

Anyway, I'd like to see the concept of modesty addressed with our Church-at-large. John Paul II alluded to this concept in his Theology of the Body. Check it out sometime.

Bottom line, it's all about respecting our one and only Holy-Spirit-filled-temple.

Just my two cents (and a few from Sister).

Pardon My Appearance

2008-12-12T10:25:00.004-06:00

Blog under holiday construction...Working out the template kinks while trying to do ten other things!

Update: Construction complete. Christmas season is in full swing!

Gangsta Lean

2008-12-04T21:34:00.006-06:00

Is it just me or has anyone else happened to notice that the gangsta lifestyle has completely arrived in middle, suburban America?

Just today, right here in Leave-It-To Beaver-ville, a mom in a mini-van was rollin' down the road with her right hand on the wheel and her seat back waaaaay reclined. Mom's blond head bobbed to a beat that vibrated my dental work. And get this...the kid in the car seat sported sunglasses and mean mugged anyone who happened to look his way. I almost expected him to roll down the window and tell me to "peak this" with his hand held in the gat (gun) pose. 'Sup beeeaaach".

OK, maybe I'm exaggerating. But just a little bit.

It's hardly coincidental that also today, my most mainstream, suburban friend sent me an e-mail which included instructions on how to make your name more gangsta. From here on out, let it be known that I am the Momizzle.

Even my kids, whom I pride for their edited exposure to pop culture hype, are not immune.

You gonna step-to E-Dawg?!!!

I told him to turn his hat around and take a picture like the nice little boy I raised. His reply?

But mom, I'm cool. Ya feel me?

No, I'm not feelin' ya. Cut it out...NOW.

It's fair to say he was feelin' me right about then.

I know he's just thinking he was cool, like many kids try to be at one point or another. Here's my problem: The gangstas of my day were all about fighting, killing, selling drugs, and getting high.

Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice

Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind]

Snoop Dog's words-to-live-by back in the 90's. Not exactly the inspiration most parents desire for their children. Oddly, however, the young ones don't even know about the old-school persona. They just think Snoop's a funny guy with a reality show that they're not allowed to watch. And what about Ice Cube? Isn't he the same hood rat made famous by Death Row Records, who openly bellowed F*** the police? Now he's a family entertainment star, making mad cap, Disney-esque movies with broad based appeal.

Sometimes, it really is a nutty world.

Oh well. I guess it's not unusual for the underground to seep its way above grade. I just hope that anyone of any ethnic background, realizes that some behavior is just not cool, no matter how much pop culture has sanitized or reinvented it. Admittedly, the occasional reference to all things gangsta is nearly impossible to avoid. At this point, I think even I say "It's time to bounce" when we need to leave. Just a few days ago, my mortgage broker was talking about someone having street cred. I'm thinking this guy knows as much about street cred as I know of quantum physics.

I know. I know. The Momizzle can't shield my peeps from everything. But I'll keep watching out for them wherever I can. Yes, I submit to the ranks of the decidedly uncool. I used to think that doing so was a costly premium exacted from once-blissful-hipsters-turned-parents. Now, it's kind of a relief to have the license to just avoid what's in or what's out. You have a lot more time to focus on the stuff that really matters.

Fo' shizzle.

E's Financial Advice

2008-12-01T21:57:00.004-06:00

E approached me today with a look of worry written all over his little six-year old face.

E: "Mom, do we have Nationwide Insurance?"

Mommy: "Uh...no. We don't. We use another company. Why are YOU asking me about INSURANCE anyway? Do you even know what insurance IS?

E: "I just know that you have to have it or you won't have anyone to count on when the going gets tough."

Mommy: "That sounds like something you heard on a commercial, E. Don't worry, honey. Your Daddy and I have got this one covered."

E: "So you mean, if our house burns down, the insurance company that you guys picked will pay for stuff and help us get a new one?"

Mommy: "Right. You've got the idea".

E: "So, which company is it mom?"

Mommy: "Oh for crying out loud E, it's State Farm. Stop worrying about it. We've had them for years. This is nothing you have to worry about!"

E: "OK, OK! But I'm telling you right now, Nationwide is better.

Mommy: "Why do you say that?"

E: "Because if the house burns down, we're not going to need a good neighbor. We're gonna need a lot of cash".

E: "Mom, why are you laughing?"

Date Night

2008-11-29T23:57:00.009-06:00

Maybe we're making the grade as parents but we're seriously blowing it in the life-balance department. We never go out anymore. You know--L and J. The same L and J who were married for seven years before they had children. Who dined at world-class restaurants. The same L & J who traveled the globe together. Indeed, the very same mad cap love birds who were known to fly to Vegas for the weekend on two hours notice.

But lately, we've been two passing ships in the night. And in the day. And every time in between.

So today, on a whim, I took the plunge and made an effort to find a baby sitter so that J and I could have a BADLY needed night out. Nothing fancy, nothing hifalutin. Just nice. C'mon...surely it can't be asking too much to go to a restaurant where there are no pictures on the menus? No Chochkies, Chille's, Fritters, Portillo's, Applebee's, Fudruckers, Tooters, TGI Fridays, Outback, Cheeseburgers in Paradise, WoJos, and for the love of all that is holy...no Chuck E. Cheese.

We had it all planned. A dinner at a small but very nice bistro. You know, the kind of place where you can wear a pair of jeans and a turtleneck but you actually get wine poured from a --bottle (not from the 440z mega box perched on the back counter next to the ketchup packets). Children's menus are non-existent. Alas, there isn't a single food photo anywhere on the menu! This mommy was giddy with anticipation at the thought of our big night out--sans the offspring, of course!

There was only one hitch in the giddy-up. In order to leave said progeny in the care of one whom is not their parent, there is a certain amount of prep work to be done. Such as...ensure that the emergency number list is up-to-date. Feed munchkins early with special take-out fare in order to stifle whining and last ditch protests about being excluded from parents' night out. Document night time routine for sitter. Pick up clutter to the extent that sitter is duped into believing that his employers are not the craziest ones on the block. This process includes removing J's tools, screws, nuts, and bolts from food preparation surfaces, wiping goo of unknown origin from several often used handles, locating at least ONE of the four cordless phones rumored to exist somewhere in the house, and rounding up anywhere from five to fifty-five toys strewn from the basement to the attic. Straighten my office nook so that it doesn't appear as though a lunatic resides in the home. Make sure dog is fed and has gone outside to do his thing. Feed cat. Replenish water. Brush cat as giant mat is forming on his back. Check on dog who is currently consuming shredded, rubber playground material in the back yard. Return dog to kennel. Clean rabbit cage and provide food and water. Notice that six-year old son and his friend have smashed pumpkins in the front yard and have spread dismembered, rotten pumpkin parts on walkway. Listen to husband's conniption about said disaster and aid in the decontamination process. Notice that baby sitter is due in ten minutes. JoJo needs help going potty, dishes are still stacked in the sink, the dog is barking in his kennel, presumably because shredded rubber is not digesting well. Meanwhile, a phone's muffled ring can be heard but its vector remains undetermined. While assisting JoJo with bathroom activity, overhear upset friend caterwaul on answering machine about how we never pick up the phone. "I can't imagine what you're doing! Pick up that phone. I know you're there. Hellloooooo."

Five minutes until baby sitter arrives. Run upstairs to shower/dress. Suddenly recall that E's fish tank needs a partial replenishment. Forget it. In this family, we're living proof that a little clutter never killed anybody. Sorry fish. Just swim around the chunks.

Manage to squeeze in a shower while J greets sitter. He saunters upstairs to shower and dress. Current time: 7:15 pm. While he cleans-up after his twelve hour yard work day, I decide that I can rest my eyes for a few minutes on our bed. Apparently, I made it look rather inviting. J throws on some sweats and decides to join me...you know, "just until she wakes up".

I woke up alright. At 10:30 pm.

Embarrassed and groggy, I skulk downstairs. Pay the sitter, endure his comical smirk, lock the doors. Sigh deeply as I notice that all the toys that were stowed just four hours ago are now hanging from a few lamps, crammed under seat cushions, and piled in various corners in the family room. Jabba the Hut smiles sheepishly from his evil lair atop our fireplace mantle. Two Polly Pockets dangle on a string and are desperately hoping to be saved by Luke Skywalker. Oops. I mean Mr. Incredible. Just yesterday, Luke met an untimely demise. Compliments of the dog.

As far as the next date night--let's just say we'll squeeze one in by the time E's in high school.

Then again, maybe not.

Top Ten Reasons Why I Love Being a Parent

2008-11-25T23:37:00.005-06:00

#10 You get to live your childhood all over again. Sort of. Except this go 'round, you can fashion it the way you want it to be versus the way it actually was. I just have to be careful to remember that kids ultimately do their own thing. My dreams will not necessarily be theirs.

#9 I have an extremely valid reason to talk about super heroes, Polly Pockets, Webkinz, monsters, unicorns, baby penguins, American Girl dolls, fairies, and Transformers.

#8 Dressing and shopping for children's clothing is the best. It is so much fun.

#7 Children are living, breathing proof of God's sense of humor.

#6 I read to them all of the books and stories I adored as a child. E and JoJo have heard the entire Laura Ingalls Wilder collection. E is currently reading my old Peanuts comic strip books by Charles Schulz. We can't forget "Tales of a Forth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume.
Everything written by Shel Silverstein. "The Little Prince" by Antoine de Saint Exupery. I could go on and on.

#5 Kids are warm toasters on cold winter mornings. I love to wake before dawn and snuggle with either one of them.

#4 Children make holidays fun, especially Halloween, Christmas, and Easter.

#3 You meet a whole new circle of friends once you have kids. Between school, sports, scouts, lessons, and play dates, you are destined to meet people who share at least some of your interests.

#2 My kids' belly laughs can crack me up no matter what mood I am in.

#1 When I least expect it, my children express gratitude, empathy, and heartfelt love. No feeling can exceed my pride in them at those moments.

The 80s

2008-11-23T21:22:00.030-06:00

A twenty-something family member recently asked me what it was like to be young in the eighties. OK...just the question makes me feel old. I can clearly remember posing a similar question to some ancient forty-year old; the only difference, of course, is that I was asking about the nineteen fifties! You know--poodle skirts, Wolfman Jack, dice on rear view mirror. Have big hair, overly bright clothing styles, and lace tights received the same type of stereotypical over-exposure? Can it actually be that the era of my young adulthood has attained a pop culture status only attributed to time periods that were, well...A LONG TIME AGO?

Apparently so. (Sigh)

Oh well. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Looking back, I would have to say that my twenties were a precursor to real adulthood. A training ground of sorts. Fun, heartache, attraction, drama, break-ups, enlightenment, rebellion, creativity, introspection, discovery. All of that stuff. Some people don't need that time to become real adults. I did. Boy did I. In fact, a wounded love interest once told me, "You'll be 21 until you're 40"...shortly before he chucked a few bills at the check and unceremoniously left me sitting alone in a Thai restaurant in the Haight. Turns out, he was only off by about a decade. It's fair to say that I had the mindset of a twenty-one year old until I was about, say, 30ish. So I was a late bloomer.

Better late than never.

Anyway, here are some of my standout memories from the eighties:

First year of college. 1984. Broke it off with my high school boyfriend. At the time, he was crushed. Truthfully, I was relieved. I knew enough to know that I wasn't supposed to be making wedding plans at eighteen years old. I handled the break-up very poorly and for that I'll always be sorry. He deserved better and I just didn't have the maturity at the time to do it any differently. Anyway, he went on to marry another girl from our high school class. For all I know, they are still married. I hope they have been blessed with happiness.

Other than this initial drama, the world was my oyster that year. Everything was new, fresh, and enlightening. My first brush with freedom and I loved it. I wanted to know everything I could cram into my head about politics, religion, art, literature, writing, philosophy, and history. Participated in the anti-Apartheid protests on campus. And boys/men. Um...let's just say I had lots of dates, more than a few boyfriends. This is when I discovered that beautiful men, young and old, come in all kinds of diverse packaging. A certain Korean-American wrestler stole my heart early in the year. If I had married him, my first and last name would have been the same. What a lovely, appreciative young gentleman. We weren't intended for the long haul but whomever married him is a lucky woman, I'm sure. And EJ...who still tops my list as one of the all time greatest people ever. (I see 'ya Mr. Morris Day from The Time. You know you did The Bird). LOL. A friendship that endured despite the odds. A friendship of which I am immensely proud. My husband thinks he is "one great guy". And he is. I have to meet that wife of his 'cause if he picked her, she has to be great too.

Summer of 1985. Partied like it was 1999. Actually, considering all of the craziness that summer, it's a feat that I made it to 1999. The Palladium in San Francisco was where we could be found most weekends. Or the I-Beam. Throw in Das Club, The Edge/ Vortex. We CANNOT forget DV8! In San Jose, it was Oasis, Club 47, and Paradise Beach. Worked a temp job which started each weekday morning at 7:05am. Most nights, I was out until 4am. And I made it into the office and on time, fresh as a daisy. Now, I'd be nearly comatose if I attempted that even once. Went to a house party in Woodside, California where the dwelling had suffered a catastrophic fire a few nights before. Only nineteen year-old kids would think it a nifty idea to set up a kegger among smoldering ashes. "Burning Down the House" was played numerous times that warm, summer evening. And of course, we also heard..."The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire, we don't need no water let the motha****** burn. Burn motha******, burrrnnnnnnn....". Oh brother....

1985-1988: Shared a house with three men. (Had my own room, of course.) All of them were quite a bit older than me and had long since graduated from college. I was surely ready for some sanity after a year in the dorms. The owner of the home was especially protective of me. And I got to live in a beautiful, hillside house, relatively close to campus for $250 a month. Kid you not. The owner still lives there and is married. I will forever be thankful to him for the safe haven he provided.

1987: Met and fell head over heels for someone who was great...just not great for me. Learned about art, photography, and much more. Developed my own cultural awareness for the very first time. Began questioning all kinds of things I once believed as immutable truth.

1988: Was called a N***** lover by some random idiot. I can still feel the sting of that insult. For the first time, I really understood what racism must feel like. Internally. I witnessed first hand how it can chip away your willingness to trust others. How it breeds inner suspicion. How it
destroys innocence.

1989: Finished my thesis, graduated from college and blew off the establishment. Became a vegetarian, lived in the Vulcan Warehouse artists' community in Oakland, California and dropped out of mainstream life. Pierced a few body parts. Met people from all walks. Next door neighbors were several members of a Bay Area thrash metal band. Begged them to lower the amp volume one night so that I could finish my senior thesis. To their credit, they turned it down, despite their need to practice for a gig that night. Apparently, even Dirty Rotten Imbeciles can be swayed by a college girl's tearful pleading.

Discovered that a pained, struggling, artist's existence is a romantic notion but not a plausible lifestyle most people can endure for the sake of a craft. More than a few people I knew at that time are now what might be called "high visibility". No names mentioned here, of course.

There is more to tell. Lots, actually.

"The 90's", however, is another post. Duty calls.

Introducing Sir Winston Churchill

2008-11-19T22:23:00.008-06:00

We'll just call him Winston.It fits
somehow...

Antiquity + One More Year = REALLY OLD

2008-11-19T08:08:00.000-06:00

The Wise One is now officially Ancient Wise One.

We look forward to continued advice, counsel, and yes, prophecy.

Happy birthday Oracle!

Premio Dardos

2008-11-18T13:01:00.004-06:00

My blog awards go to (--in no particular order and for varying reasons. New awards in purple):

Stuff White People Do

Opinionated Catholic

Ask Sister Mary Martha

Ironic Catholic

Crummy Church Signs

Every Day Catholic Woman (U.K--Right back at 'ya Joanna)

Thinking Love, No Twaddle (U.K.--FYI Mum...Americans rarely use the word TWADDLE. I think we should use it more. It just fits somehow.)

Velveteen Mind

Zippy Catholic

What Catholics Believe

2008-11-16T22:32:00.002-06:00

Every now and then, I'm going to share a random teaching/tenant of our faith 'cause it sure seems like there is MUCHO confusion out there--among Catholics and non-Catholics alike.

Today's pearl is about death. More specifically: What happens to us when we die? The answer that a knowledgeable Catholic will give you just might fall into your new information category. Turns out, it's a two-part saga. Like Rocky I and II. Or Star Wars and the Empire Strikes back. OK, before I date myself any more, here goes:

First, if you've made the cut, so to speak, your immortal soul goes to Heaven. You experience immeasurable love, joy, and happiness as you commune with God and the angels and saints for all eternity. But wait...it gets better. Sort of.

When we recite the Creed in Church, we speak of Jesus coming back "to judge the living and the dead." We're not joking around on this point. We believe in the resurrection of the body. At the end of time, all of creation will be judged and chosen bodies will join souls in Heaven. So, a word to the wise...If I were you, I would start thinking about taking care of that sacred vessel. Wouldn't it be a letdown to actually make it into Heaven and then, at the end of time, be reunited with an old broken down hoopty of a body? Talk about motivation for an exercise plan!

As a side note...the Church allows cremation. You just can't be cremated BEFORE your funeral Mass. I don't know how the Lord will put all of those cremated body parts back together but then again, He is, you know, God. Who am I to question His engineering capabilities?

If you think I'm off of my rocker, be sure to reference numbers 686, 999-1000 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church. I know--not exactly light reading. Still, I thought I ought to provide a source so you don't think I'm making up stuff as I go along. I'll leave that to the nuns. Just kidding.

*Credit also given to "In the Know With Father Joe"--a column written by Fr. Joseph Krupp.

Truly Inspired

2008-11-13T22:48:00.000-06:00

Click on this image to enlarge.

It's about time someone said it, don't you think?

A New Blog Award!

2008-11-08T12:57:00.009-06:00

This award acknowledges the values that this blogger
shows in his/her effort to transmit cultural, ethical, literary
and personal values every day.

Thanks again Mum!

Next post will be devoted to my list of recipients.

To Obama Supporters... Whom I Call Friends

2008-11-07T16:20:00.010-06:00

Dear Friends and Family...

Congratulations on Obama's unprecedented victory. While I greatly disagree with most of his left-of-center positions, I would be dim indeed if I didn't realize the amazing achievement his election represents. Despite my disappointment over McCain's overwhelming loss, I was moved by Obama's election night speech. Oddly, what struck me the most was the image of Jesse Jackson, openly weeping because of the reality before his him: President-elect Obama. How could Jackson not reflect upon the groundbreaking moment he was witnessing? Who could not appreciate the sacrifice, toil, and bravery demanded of so many African-Americans in order for Obama to achieve the pinnacle of the American dream? I can only imagine the pride and the triumph felt by Jackson and by so many others on that unseasonably warm, historic evening in Grant Park.

Even I became overwhelmed with emotion. Some might be surprised by the degree to which I can relate to the sentiment so prevalent among Obama faithful. The issue of race and the shame surrounding it has had a devastating effect upon many whom I call near and dear. Perhaps Obama's election will finally confirm what so many have known for a long time: Our ethnic heritage, while an important part of how we define ourselves, need not limit our talents, abilities, and achievements. How sad that so many people I have known and loved never discovered the freedom and the esteem that emerges from this essential truth. How limiting and degrading it must be to deny one's own heritage. Barack Obama's election may be just the thing so many need to finally close the book on race as a detracting factor in our beloved country.

If only we conservatives could clone Mr. Obama but reprogram our new "model" with pro-life zeal, laissez faire economic ideals, and more pragmatic foreign policy leanings. What a candidate that would be! I, too, have a dream.

To my friends who also happen to be Obama supporters...I know you are thrilled over this outcome and rightly so. While we part ways on policy, I congratulate you on this well earned victory. And, as I mentioned to my son just today, we don't have to agree with Mr. Obama, but as Americans, we must all respect the soon-to-be President Obama, who will confront numerous challenges upon assuming office. His will certainly not be an enviable position. He will need our support where we are morally able to provide it.

I pray for Barack Obama and his family. The weight of the responsibility and the duties that lay ahead will be great indeed. I hope all of you join me in this prayer.

Special Forces Required

2008-11-05T04:53:00.023-06:00

Even a prayerful Catholic needs an A-Team power assist from time to time.

Now would be one of those times.

Father Corapi tells us that our Blessed Mother keeps her combat boots on stand-by and she's ready for battle. Against sin, that is. We better call her in and ask her to lace 'em up. Looks like she's needed now more than ever.

Blessed Mother Mary...and all the rest of the saints in Heaven...including my dear, late Mother-in-Law Millie. Intercede for us, please. Ask for His grace as we face tremendous opposition to His most basic gift to humanity...LIFE.

I am discouraged and overwhelmed by the mandate bestowed upon our president-elect. I fear that the culture of death has become so insidious, so pervasive that it is no longer even recognized as such. This evil is disguised as "choice", as "freedom", and as a "right". How twisted the notion of liberty has become when an entire class of citizens are expendable in exchange for another class's quest for less encumbered lives. Something tells me that the Framers concept of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" did not provide for murdering undesirable citizenry as a means to that end. But hey, what do I know?

Several years ago, Millie shared this with me: When she was a student nurse in the 1950's, it was a routine practice for lay hospital staff to baptize very young, pre-born children who died as a result of miscarriage or stillbirth. She recalled once creating a small tear in an amniotic sac to sprinkle holy water on a tiny, fallen child. At that time, it was a concern that every life, even in its earliest stage, received Jesus' Sacrament. Now, we're debating whether a child who miraculously survives a failed abortion is entitled to medical care or should be permitted to die in any one of many barbaric, unspeakable ways. If you dare describe these atrocities as anything other than "procedures" or "reproductive freedom", prepare to endure the wrath of the current culture. Anti-woman. Extremist. Right-winger. Hate-monger. Meanwhile, God help you if you're caught purchasing a mascara reportedly tested on boll weevils. Ingrid Newkirk and her PETA henchmen will b-slap you faster than you can whimper, "Going forward, product testing will only be conducted on whiny toddlers and unsightly old-people".

My God, have we lost our way. And while we can't place all the blame in Obama's lap, he has and will be a powerful opponent to right-to-life issues.

So I'm calling on our army of patron-saint-reinforcements this early, Wednesday morning. On behalf of this frustrated, bewildered sinner, pray that I and so many like me, maintain the zeal and the stamina required in the next several years ahead of us. 'Cause we're gonna need all that and more my friends.

*I know you guys will kick in. You always do. Besides, with Millie up there, what choice do you have?

*Disclaimer to my non-Catholic friends and readers: Catholics do not believe that saints are deities with God-like abilities. Nor are we taught, for that matter, that St. Mary, the Blessed Mother, is a deity. Saints, which are all souls residing in Heaven, readily accept requests to pray with us and for us. Saint's prayers have a V.I.P status of sorts-- so it's generally a good thing to have a saint on your prayer team. Most of us need all the help we can get.

More Bishops Weigh In: Say No to Obama

2008-11-03T12:42:00.004-06:00

I keep singing the same old tune--even though it's a song that many friends and family have grown weary of hearing. Here I go again: In good conscience, no Catholic can cast a vote for Obama.

The following is a profound statement from two, prominent American bishops. (I don't know how I missed this one. I'm remiss in posting it so late.) They make it clear that pro-abortion Catholics are in direct opposition to their Church and are placing their eternal salvation in serious jeopardy. (I feel uneasy and sanctimonious even typing this strong statement--but the fact of the matter is--they are voicing the correct and courageous position.)

Our Moral Responsibility as Catholic Citizens
Joint Pastoral Letter – September 8, 2008
Most Reverend Joseph F. Naumann, Archbishop of Kansas City in Kansas
Most Reverend Robert W. Finn, Bishop of Kansas City-St. Joseph

Dear Friends in Christ,

With the approaching general election this November, we believe this to be an important moment for us to address together the responsibility of Catholics to be well informed and well formed voters.

Except for the election of our next President, the people of Northwestern Missouri and Northeastern Kansas will be choosing different candidates for different offices in our two dioceses. Yet the fundamental moral principles that should guide our choices as Catholic voters are the same.

For generations it has been the determination of Catholic Bishops not to endorse political candidates or parties. This approach was initiated by Archbishop John Carroll – the very first Catholic Bishop serving in the United States. It was long before there was an Internal Revenue Service Code, and had nothing to do with a desire to preserve tax-exempt status. Rather the Church in the United States realized early on that it must not tether the credibility of the Church to the uncertain future actions or statements of a particular politician or party. This understanding of the Church’s proper role in society was affirmed in the Second Vatican Council’s Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern Word: “The Church, by reason of her role and competence, is not identified with any political community nor bound by its ties to any political system. It is at once the sign and the safeguard of the transcendental dimension of the human person.”(Gaudium et Spes n.76)

A Right to Speak Out on Issues

At the same time, it is important to note that the Catholic Church in the United States has always cherished its right to speak to the moral issues confronting our nation. The Church has understood its responsibility in a democratic society to do its best to form properly the consciences of her members. In continuity with the long history of the efforts of American Bishops to assist Catholics with the proper formation of their consciences, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) this past November issued a statement: Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship. In that document our brother bishops took care to note: “This statement is intended to reflect and complement, not substitute for, the ongoing teachings of bishops in our own dioceses and states.”

It is in this context that we offer the following reflections to assist the Catholic people of Northwestern Missouri and Northeastern Kansas in forming their consciences in preparation for casting their votes this November.

Many Issues: Prudential Judgments

Every Catholic should be concerned about a wide range of issues. We believe in a consistent ethic that evaluates every issue through the prism of its impact on the life and dignity of the human person. Catholics should care about public policies that:
a) promote a just and lasting peace in the world,
b) protect our nation from terrorism and other security threats,
c) welcome and uphold the rights of immigrants,
d) enable health care to be accessible and affordable,
e) manifest a special concern for the poor by attending to their immediate needs and assisting them to gain economic independence,
f) protect the rights of parents to be the primary educators of their children,
g) create business and employment opportunities making it possible for individuals to be able to provide for their own material needs and the needs of their families,
h) reform the criminal justice system by providing better for the needs of the victims of crimes, protecting the innocent, administering justice fairly, striving to rehabilitate inmates, and eliminating the death penalty,
i) foster a proper stewardship of the earth that God has entrusted to our care.

This is by no means an exhaustive list.

While the above issues, as well as many others, have important moral dimensions, Catholics may and do disagree about the most effective public policies for responding to them. How these issues are best addressed and what particular candidates are best equipped to address them requires prudential judgments – defined as circumstances in which people can ethically reach different conclusions. Catholics have an obligation to study, reflect and pray over the relative merits of the different policy approaches proposed by candidates. Catholics have a special responsibility to be well informed regarding the guidance given by the Church pertaining to the moral dimensions of these matters. In the end, Catholics in good conscience can disagree in their judgments about many aspects of the best policies and the most effective candidates.

The Priority of Rejecting Intrinsic Evil

There are, however, some issues that always involve doing evil, such as legalized abortion, the promotion of same-sex unions and ‘marriages,’ repression of religious liberty, as well as public policies permitting euthanasia, racial discrimination or destructive human embryonic stem cell research. A properly formed conscience must give such issues priority even over other matters with important moral dimensions. To vote for a candidate who supports these intrinsic evils because he or she supports these evils is to participate in a grave moral evil. It can never be justified.

Even if we understand the moral dimensions of the full array of social issues and have correctly prioritized those involving intrinsic evils, we still must make prudential judgments in the selection of candidates. In an ideal situation, we may have a choice between two candidates who both oppose public policies that involve intrinsic evils. In such a case, we need to study their approach on all the other issues that involve the promotion of the dignity of the human person and prayerfully choose the best individual.

Limiting Grave Evil

In another circumstance, we may be confronted with a voting choice between two candidates who support abortion, though one may favor some limitations on it, or he or she may oppose public funding for abortion. In such cases, the appropriate judgment would be to select the candidate whose policies regarding this grave evil will do less harm. We have a responsibility to limit evil if it is not possible at the moment to eradicate it completely.

The same principle would be compelling to a conscientious voter who was confronted with two candidates who both supported same-sex unions, but one opposed abortion and destructive embryonic research while the other was permissive in these regards. The voter, who himself or herself opposed these policies, would have insufficient moral justification voting for the more permissive candidate. However, he or she might justify resorting to a write-in vote or abstaining from voting at all in this case, because of a conscientious objection.

In 2004 a group of United States Bishops, acting on behalf of the USCCB and requesting counsel about the responsibilities of Catholic politicians and voters, received a memo from the office of Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, the future Pope Benedict XVI, which stated: “A Catholic would be guilty of formal cooperation in evil, and so unworthy to present himself for Holy Communion, if he were to deliberately vote for a candidate precisely because of the candidate’s permissive stand on abortion and/or euthanasia. When a Catholic does not share a candidate’s stand in favor of abortion and/or euthanasia, but votes for that candidate for other reasons, it is considered remote material cooperation, which can be permitted in the presence of proportionate reasons.”

Could a Catholic in good conscience vote for a candidate who supports legalized abortion when there is a choice of another candidate who does not support abortion or any other intrinsically evil policy? Could a voter’s preference for the candidate’s positions on the pursuit of peace, economic policies benefiting the poor, support for universal health care, a more just immigration policy, etc. overcome a candidate’s support for legalized abortion? In such a case, the Catholic voter must ask and answer the question: What could possibly be a proportionate reason for the more than 45 million children killed by abortion in the past 35 years? Personally, we cannot conceive of such a proportionate reason.

Time for Catholics to Exercise Moral Leadership

The number of Catholics and the percentage of Catholics in the United States have never been greater. There has never been a moment in our nation’s history when more Catholics served in elective office, presided in our courts or held other positions of power and authority. It would be wrong for us to use our numbers and influence to try to compel others to accept our religious and theological beliefs. However, it would be equally wrong for us to fail to be engaged in the greatest human rights struggle of our time, namely the need to protect the right to life of the weakest and most vulnerable.

We need committed Catholics in both major political parties to insist upon respect for the values they share with so many other people of faith and good will regarding the protection of the sanctity of human life, the upholding of the institution of marriage between a man and a woman as the foundation of family life, as well as the protection of religious liberty and conscience rights. It is particularly disturbing to witness the spectacle of Catholics in public life vocally upset with the Church for teaching what it has always taught on these moral issues for 2,000 years, but silent in objecting to the embrace, by either political party, of the cultural trends of the past few decades that are totally inconsistent with our nation’s history of defending the weakest and most vulnerable.

Thank you for taking time to consider these reflections on applying the moral principles that must guide our choices as voters. We are called to be faithful Catholics and loyal Americans. In fact, we can only be good citizens if we allow ourselves to be informed by the unchanging moral principles of our Catholic faith.

Our Own Horror Story

2008-10-31T22:02:00.002-05:00

JoJo fell out of bed three nights ago and fractured her clavicle (collar bone). And I do mean fractured it. I'm too sleep deprived to go into any more details. Suffice it to say, my darling, easy going three-year old channeled her dark side--an alter ego fueled by pain, frustration, boredom, and several Tylenol-with-codeine-cocktails. Picture the demure little damsel from The Exorcist. I'm pretty sure JoJo's head was spinning when she bellowed (in a voice four octaves lower than usual), "I NEED ANOTHER MOVIE IN MY DVD PLAYER AND I WANT IT NOW!!!!" Who knew she had it in her??

Wisecracks aside, she is in a lot of pain. And it's hard to see. But when we find a position she can endure, she's back to being my precious lamb.

Sorry Halloween 2008 was such a bust for you JoJo. Maybe we'll have a dress-up party with some of your friends when you get all better!

E's Halloween, on the other hand, was picture perfect. Class party, trick-or-treating, family Halloween party with his cousin K. In his world, it doesn't get much better than that!

Thanksgiving, Christmas--here we come!

Mr. Obama: A Few Moments, Please

2008-10-24T22:01:00.032-05:00

Barack Obama has occupied a lion's share of my thoughts these past few days. I've often said that I wish we conservatives had someone like him--someone whom inspires and rallies unprecedented support from every walk of life. While I've vocally disparaged his political and ethical positions, I have never doubted his sincerity. I truly believe that he believes what he says. By his own admission, he's no saint. But I get the sense that he's the type you could probably trust with a secret. Something tells me he's likely to keep his word when it's critical to do so. I'm especially impressed by his commitment to his family, which by every indication, is genuine and unwavering.

As of late, I've often thought about what I would say to Obama if given the chance. Forget about lottery fantasies. My windfall daydreams are all about having a good chat with Barry. You know--the guy. Not the politician. No reporters, no cameras. No calculated talking points or "gotcha" questions. I would, however, bring along a few photos--images that belie the Obama who has justly earned the scorn of conservative America. Here's how it would go...

***********************************************

Mr. Obama. Barack. My fellow American, my brother in Christ...

When I see these clear expressions of tenderness

and of whimsy

reflecting an unfeigned enjoyment of children....

I can only wonder why you have chosen to actively and staunchly support abortion. I ask this not in a rhetorical, argumentative way. I'm not asking for a well crafted, special-interest-group kind of answer. What I genuinely yearn to know is how a man of your intelligence, your empathy, and your compassion, can so obviously display concern for one young life...

and simultaneously reject the worthiness of another?

You've told us that determining the starting point for humanity is "above your pay grade". I'll trust that you simply fumbled with an unintentionally glib response in an attempt to distance yourself from the question that has become the political Achilles' heel of our time: When does life begin?

So, I humbly submit...If you, like so many others, are unsure when human life is deserved of full legal protection, might we agree that there is at least the possibility that our humanity begins at conception? As such, if there is even the slightest possibility that life does indeed begin long before a child leaves her mother's womb, wouldn't the most prudent course of action be determined by a willingness to err on the side of caution--in this case, on the side of life?

If not, help me understand, why not? Please. I've yet to hear a remotely convincing argument when I have posed the question in this manner. So, I hand it to you, Mr. Obama. I know you are capable of great reflection and intellect. I'm told you are a man of character. Please use these gifts when you respond. But first, do me a favor. Remove your presidential candidate armor. Base your answer in the courage you've mustered as a father. Root it in the respect you developed as a grandson. Couch your answer in language that honors the love you have known simply because you are your mother's child.

I can only hope, only pray, that the answer you now provide will reflect far more of the sentiment we see in your mother's loving gaze...

and much less of the political rhetoric we have come to expect...

May God bless you and inspire you to truly hear the pleas spoken on behalf of those with no voice at all.

American Church Leader Weighs In...Finally

2008-10-19T22:00:00.004-05:00

Finally, an American Catholic Church heavyweight, Denver Archbishop Charles J. Chaput,publicly cautions against support of Barack Obama:

"To suggest - as some Catholics do - that Senator Obama is this year's 'real' pro-life candidate requires a peculiar kind of self-hypnosis, or moral confusion, or worse...the work of Democratic-friendly groups like Catholics United and Catholics in Alliance for the Common Good have done a disservice to the Church, confused the natural priorities of Catholic social teaching, undermined the progress pro-lifers have made, and provided an excuse for some Catholics to abandon the abortion issue instead of fighting within their parties and at the ballot box to protect the unborn.Pro-Obama Catholics "seek to contextualize, demote and then counterbalance the evil of abortion with other important but less foundational social issues."

Not surprisingly, Archbishop Chaput chose to qualify his words with the notation that he made this statement, not on behalf of the Church, but as a private citizen. Traditionally, the clergy has been resistant to oppose or support political candidates for fear of losing the IRS tax-exempt status attributed to all qualifying, religious organizations. Still, you have to hand it to him...he used a precarious loophole to unequivocally communicate what is surely the collective conscience of our Church leadership. And you have to believe that the Catholic powers-that-be knew he was going to do it. My guess is even the Holy Father gave at least a tacit approval of the Archbishop's public declaration of these gutsy assertions.

My only criticism is one you might expect: What took you guys so long?? We're in the homestretch, with the McCain campaign flailing as much as 3-4 percentage points in the polls. I am convinced that more Catholics would side with their Church if presented with a clear declaration as to which side this is. On the face of it, one would expect that the appropriate choice in a candidate should be obvious based on Church teaching. But that's just it. Many Catholics are confused on even the basics.

The Church must consistently and repeatedly counter the near endless barrage of hokum spewed by non-Catholics and "new age" Catholics alike--seeking to reinvent traditional tenants of the faith. American Catholics are especially vulnerable to the prolific forces which work long and hard to convince us that a vote for Obama indeed equates to support for the sanctity of life. After all, he opposes the Iraq War. And he seeks to implement universal health care. More than a few Catholics are convinced that his positions amount to a pro-life stance. Throw in Obama's charm, charisma, celebrity status, and all around likability factor and what you have is a Catholic Obama supporter, albeit an errant, Catholic Obama supporter. Unfortunately, however, their errant statuses in no way invalidate their votes. Like any politician, Obama will gladly take 'em where he can get 'em. And I'm pained to say, he'll get 'em from many, many Catholics.

In the last ten years especially, we have seen our Church deftly wield the power of PR. And yet, when it comes to Obama and his unwavering support of abortion, Church communication has been tepid. As such, it does appear that Catholic leaders have been hesitant to put more of their own skin in the game. And because of it, we repeatedly witness Catholic Christians badly losing their way. It is a certainty that any Catholic committed to Obama's campaign has strayed from the core teaching of the Church. The thing is, I'm not at all convinced that these Catholics, brothers and sisters in our own parishes, are even aware that their pro-Obama support is tantamount to a repudiation of Catholic Doctrine. We're told during Lent that a complete refusal to fast and to sacrifice as directed is seriously sinful. And yet, similar direction with regard to withholding our vote from a politician known to actively support the death of hundreds of thousands of human beings, is often voiced in timid and unenthusiastic tones.

I'm thrilled that at least one daring Catholic man-of-the-cloth is willing to make the matter perfectly clear... Better late than never, anyway.

I've often said that we can learn much from our Evangelical friends. We have grown accustomed to their ability to form a united and consistent voting block--one that repeatedly influences and perhaps even sways electoral outcomes at every level. If most American Catholics voted in alignment with Church teaching on the issue of life, Obama's chances for winning in November would be non-existent. This cohesion, this much coveted solidarity, is a worthy goal but has been utterly elusive.

We have much work to do. Let's all put some skin in this game--even if the topic is uncomfortable and perceived as overly controversial. When we remain silent, and I mean any and all of us, the reality is that children die.

Over and over again.

Mommy's One-Liner Hall of Fame

2008-10-19T01:10:00.005-05:00

"This aint no Etch-A-Sketch.That's one doodle that can't be un-done homeskillet!"
-From "Juno", Screenplay by Diablo Cody

The T-Shirt Says It All

2008-10-12T06:06:00.003-05:00

courtesy of Zazzle

Palin Sanctioned ?

2008-10-11T00:42:00.007-05:00

Alaska Panel Says Palin Abused Power In Firing?

To that I say...So what? Frankly, I would have done the same thing. If I knew that my ex-brother-in-law had tasered a 10-year old boy, I too would have done everything in my power to see the guy out-the-door. And if his boss didn't want to oust the creep, he'd be gone too. Apparently, that's the way it happened. Oh well.

I agree with Oracle. Palin's got testicular fortitude. You know...balls. I'm not looking for a squeaky clean do-gooder who follows every rule in the book. For that matter, I'm fairly certain that such a person couldn't accomplish anything in our system of government. If anything, this just further confirms that she does the right thing despite legislative minutia enacted to protect the status quo. ABC News reported that the sanction in question imperiled her status as a reformer. If anything, it seems to me that it CONFIRMED her status has a reformer.

You just have to see past the main stream media's "spin". By the way, is it just me or does this "sanction" seem particularly well timed?

We're in the home stretch. Let's not get side tracked by these trumped-up diversions.

The Most Crucial Election Issue

2008-10-08T21:46:00.006-05:00

I have often heard..."Why do YOU PEOPLE make abortion the number one issue in every election?" I've spoken and blogged about this at length so I won't reinvent that wheel on this post.

This video, however, speaks volumes. It's powerful and unequivocal. Mind you, it is not politically correct. But the piece truly and clearly delineates the position that the Church has taken on this and other issues. As Catholic Christians, we are called to elect leaders who will uphold the basic tenants of our doctrine. It's just that simple.

Getting Down To Business

2008-10-07T17:09:00.006-05:00

Yesterday, Oracle and I were more than a little deflated about the prospects of the upcoming presidential election. McCain has a major hill to climb...largely because many voters are choosing to associate his policies with those of George W.'s train wreck. With Bush leading the charge, the House and Senate passed the mother-of-all economic bail-out bills--with the intent of restoring confidence on Wall Street and re-invigorating grid-locked credit markets across the globe. So far, this hap-hazard, ill-conceived scheme has created a mere ripple in our current cesspool of an economy. For $700 go-zillion, the U.S. tax payer is entitled to a tsunami of relief. C'mon...you and I know that the tidal wave 'aint coming folks. With nearly 100+ leading economists clearly stating that this spending orgy will only delay the economic pain that we must endure anyway, it seems clear that we've been had. What we bought, friends, is what the old timers used to call a pig-in-a-poke. This little piggy is gonna soak us for a long time indeed.

So, out of sheer anger alone, I'm not willing to give up. John McCain has got his detractors among the core base. No doubt. But if you think this latest government boondoggle is a mere stone's throw from a centralized economy, just wait until Barry and Company get a chance to impose their Michael Moore-esque policies on the misty-eyed proletariat. Celebrities who insist on using three names will be downright miffed by the change in cadence when COMRADE is added to their highly crafted monikers. Comrade Evan Rachel Wood. Comrade Robert Downey Jr. Hmm. Not quite the same ring, I dare say.

OK...I'm being snarky. Do I really think Obama is a card carrying communist of the Trotsky ilk? Of course not. But do I think that he has an elitist mentality? Yes! Do I think that he will impose a bevy of burdensome regulations on business and the free economy? Yes! Will he tax everything that moves? Yes! Does he value individual freedom over group think? No. Does he have ANY experience that lends itself to resolving the most fierce economic crisis to be seen in decades, perhaps in our lifetime? No, no. no.

So yes, McCain and Palin have election catch-up work to do. A lot of it. But the race is not over. Not by a long shot.

Four weeks left. A lot can happen.

Let's get crackin'.

World's CUTEST Car

2008-10-07T15:48:00.005-05:00

Y'all know I luvs me some vehicles!

A few forward thinking townsfolk have buzzed by in these cuties.

They're called SmartCars, I'm told.

If you've been to Europe, especially Italy, you know that they have similar cars all over the place. Not sure if the trend will take hold here in the U.S. but something tells me it just might. After all, no one really expected the VW New Beetle nor the Mini Cooper to have the long term appeal that both mega compacts have enjoyed. (I really miss my 2000 New Beetle manual 5-speed turbo. But I sold it to a dear friend in the Bay Area who reports it is still going strong with well over 100K miles!)

We'll have to keep this chunky little car on the mommy radar screen. (FYI: the scaled down coupe starts at around $12K and the cabriolet starts at $16K. When is the last time you heard car numbers that low--for something that has this much style. And, incredibly, the safety ratings are surprisingly high. Amazing.

We love, love, love.

My Crummy Church Sign

2008-10-05T22:54:00.002-05:00

You too can make the church sign of your dreams !

For What It's Worth

2008-10-04T14:59:00.004-05:00

"Loved the wedding. How about inviting me to the marriage?" - God

(author unknown)

Prayers Please

2008-10-02T15:37:00.010-05:00

Dear Friends,

Once again, I ask for your help. Our family faces yet another loss.

...My dear Aunt Melody is quickly losing her battle with ALS/Lou Gehrig's Disease...For the days or hours that remain of her fifty-seven years, please join me in prayer for her journey home. Pray for courage, for peace, and for an end to her suffering...I have no doubt that God is near. When we parted this August, I told her that very, very good things awaited her. I'm not sure she believes this and I cannot imagine enduring a very painful death without the comfort and assurance that our Faith brings. So mostly, I pray that she will feel His Grace and lose her fear...and her doubt.

If you can, take a moment to listen to "Prayer" by Gina Loring. It's a perfect and beautiful sentiment for anyone who feels doubt and needs His reassurance.

(Thanks Gina. Your voice is from Heaven above.)

Update: Melody passed on this evening. Thank you for all of the e-mail and your commitment to prayer. Her children and husband will continue to need our prayers as they cope with this loss.

Taking a Break

2008-05-01T22:50:00.003-05:00

I'm behind on everything. And I mean everything. Not only is mind clutter at an all time high, but so is house clutter, car clutter, basement clutter, garage clutter, body clutter. Once again, I am knee deep in just about anything that you can think of. It's getting me down.

I love to write but the reality is that journaling, blogging, ranting…it's taking up more time than it should. True to form, when I enjoy something, I can't just do it a little bit. I've got to go all out. What began as an online family journal has blossomed into something that takes a great deal of my time. It occurred to me the other day that writing about my mommy life life has somehow become more time consuming than actually participating in it. Meanwhile, a few bills have been late when the money is there to pay them. Phone calls/e-mail go unreturned. Home projects are in a state of indefinite limbo. My exercise routine is non-existent.

Here's the bottom line: Had I conducted my work career with my current level of scattered, disorganized crisis management, I would have been out the door in short order. How sobering it is for me to contemplate that I was once considered a role model of effectiveness. Now, I'm the queen of flying by the seat of my pants. Getting it done, sort of, by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin. (At 41, trust me, there is plenty). Forgetting this, overlooking that. Getting enough done so that we don't have a family implosion. But not doing the necessary things, in a timely manner, to make our home calm and peaceful.

So, I'm taking some time off from this diversion that I so dearly love. I will not be creating any new posts until August. In the meantime, the immediate future is packed with school field trips, First Communion parties, showers, church, two vacations, t-ball games, soccer camp, visits to the zoo, swim lessons, cookouts, get-togethers with friends. And yes…taking better care of ME. Dropping some weight, eating right, exercising.

In my case, I have to make a choice between writing about life and actually living it. Lots of folks can do both and I think I'll be one of them in the not-so-distant future. I'm just not one of them now.

The blog archive will remain online and I will respond to any post comments or blog related e-mail as appropriate.

In the meantime, have an incredible, love-filled, family-focused summer.

John Lennon said it best…

Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.

God bless each and every one of you!

Who Says There's No Free Lunch?

2008-04-30T06:30:00.005-05:00

I do.

But I've got an even better freebee! If you're in the market for a pre-school size backpack monogrammed with "McKenna"--you've hit pay dirt, my friend! Pottery Barn Kids just couldn't get it together and sent me the incorrect size not once, but twice. Because the backpacks are monogrammed, they don't want them back, so they told me to keep them both for free. We like free. Free is our friend.

The free backpack is the smallest one, far right, with whales.

Free can be your friend too. If you have a daughter named McKenna (or know someone) who wants this backpack--it's yours. Yes, for free. Just send me your address and your little McKenna will be toting in style in just a matter of days. If you feel like reimbursing me for the postage, I won't argue with you, but no biggie if you you don't get to it. I just hate to see something this cute sitting around collecting dust.

Please send your address via my e-mail--which is listed in my blog profile. Please, to protect your privacy, do not provide any identifying information in the comments section of this post.

P.S. This isn't some weird scam or promotion. I'm just a mom trying to pay it forward a little bit. If you're a conspiracy theorist, you might think I've created 200+ posts over the last three years to lure you in to something "not on the level". But that would be your alternate reality. Proceed to your space ship.

Yes, Marge...I guess there is a free lunch. Sort of.

UPDATE 5/3/08: One of the two backpacks has been given away. Only one left!!!!

Heroes: Famous and Otherwise

2008-04-29T07:36:00.007-05:00

These are mine. In no particular order.

Jane Austen

(This image is thought to be the only authentic portrait of her likeness in existence. It is believed that she was 14 when she posed for this painting.) She never married and died relatively young at 42. Yet her writing set the standard in her genre for centuries to come; no one before or since has so perfectly captured both the wit and heartache of courtship. Think of her as the Carrie Bradshaw of the pre-Victorian set.

Father Jim Mifsud

This outspoken, blunt, and charismatic priest is no stranger to ruffled feathers.. At ten years old, I was mystified by this larger than life personality. In one breath, he would challenge us fifth graders to devote our lives to the service and care of others. In the other, he would yell about some *&^!@! motorist who cut him off on the *@#!#! freeway. Fill in the expletive of your choice...because he probably used any and all of them. While patience and decorum were not his strong suits (at least they weren't in 1977), no one could ever question his devotion to the core mission of Christ. His commitment to "the least of our brothers" has been nothing short of amazing. But he could lose patience easily and show much consternation over perceived apathy, resignation, or lack of involvement on the part of his parishioners. Let's just say he never appeared to withhold an opinion. From his direct involvement in the care of orphans in Korea to job placement for those with troubled backgrounds, Father Jim never asked anything of others that he wasn't willing to do himself--several times over.

Frida Kahlo

Her life fascinates me. She made an indelible artistic mark despite the very large shadow cast by her husband, Diego Rivera. There are some who credibly argue that she was the more gifted painter of the two. I'm not an art critic but I do find myself drawn to her work--which illustrates a life marred by tragedy and nearly unbearable physical pain. And yet, to relegate her painting to the work of a tormented soul is far too cliche'. You truly get the sense that despite everything, she believed in the rejuvenating power of beauty. A kind of beauty that surrounds us but is not always visible to the dismissive eye and the closed mind.

Cat Stevens aka Yusuf Islam

Gave up the drug called fame at his career pinnacle in 1978 and retreated to the recesses of his faith and its culture. His beautiful, deeply spiritual "Morning Has Broken" is moving and timeless-- as are "Father and Son", "Peace Train", "Wild World", and "Oh Very Young". I don't share his politics but I'm nonetheless convinced that there must be a great deal of good in a man who could compose such lyrics.

JPII

He made it pretty hard NOT to love him. You kinda just knew that under the white vestment was the happy, devoted, hardworking priest who had to pinch himself to make sure this whole papal thing wasn't a dream. Besides his status as national hero in Poland, the once Bishop Karol Wojtyla stood firm against the Soviet's desire to rid Catholicism from the national landscape. He vocally supported Lech Walesa and the Solidarity movement to protect the labor rights of workers. And as Pope John Paul II, he charmed the world with his desire to share the papacy in the form of several world tours. I, like so many others, gasped in horror as Sinead O'Connor shredded his photograph on national, live TV. I'm sure he had his human frailties. But there was nothing to justify such blatant irreverence for a man who exemplified peace and social justice. By the way, would it be disrespectful of me to say that I thought he was an attractive man in his earlier years? I hope not. I'm just saying....

Oscar London, M.D. (aka Arlan Cohn, M.D.)

My former physician, employer, confidant, and friend. I met him as a young adult and he was my first brush with someone truly literary. His patients adored him to the point that he literally had a circle of "groupies". You were never sure just who was going to show up at his office...poets, writers, homeless people, political activists, pundits, students, business leaders. He's the only doctor I know who could wisecrack during a less-than-pleasant exam and actually make patients laugh to the point that they forgot about the discomfort. He came to my aid and provided counsel on countless occasions. And he introduced me to Creme Brulee. How could he not be a hero?

Eleanor Roosevelt

Took lemons and made lemonade more frequently than most people realize. Rather than allow the infidelity of her husband to destroy her, she reinvented the purpose of her life. Not blessed with beauty, she relied on a her intellect, a direct but likable personality, and an acquired self reliance to pursue her goals. While she remained FDR's wife and curiously, his good friend, the discovery of his long standing love affair with Lucy Mercer forever altered her perception of a woman's place in the world. To only devote oneself to the needs and aspirations of a man was foolish in her mind. So she changed her course and discovered she could make a difference. Now that's my kinda woman.

William 'Sandy" Muir, Ph.D.

By way of introduction, he shared with our small class that he was a recovered, compulsive liar. Wow. Nothing like a complete bearing of one's soul to initiate the first-day-of-class meet and greet! He traversed the hilly campus terrain via a golf cart as he was physically impaired due to childhood polio. A Berkeley professor who was...(gasp) conservative. He inspired me to reexamine the liberal indoctrination of my college career. And while my full transformation did not take place until several years later, I often credit him for planting that initial seed. He also gave me the courage and incentive to interview a then, well known politician. That one-hour meeting with a California state senator taught me a lot about the personal nature of politics and human frailty. This topic actually deserves a post all its own. Another time.

My maternal grandfather, Elmer Whistance

WWII veteran, Battle of the Bulge hero, recipient of the Silver Star for gallantry in action. And I never knew any of this until I was an adult. When the war ended, these guys just came home and re-started their lives. He was humble, kind, patient, and generous. I really miss him.

Steve Martin

Most folks still associate Steve Martin with his "wild and crazy guy" persona of the 1970's. Or his performances in a host of family-oriented, feel good movies (some of which I really like, including Parenthood). But if that's all you know about this immense talent, you're really missing out. Yes, he's a comedic giant. He is also an incredible writer of both fiction and prose. His ability to articulate insight with subtlety and yes, humor, really is of the highest caliber. I appreciated his film Shopgirl but I truly loved his novella on which the movie is based. I can't really describe the essence of Martin's appeal except to say that he somehow just "gets" women. That is to say, he describes female weakness, talent, allure, treachery, and magnificence in much the same way a woman might. Somewhere along the line, he learned an awful lot about what makes us girls tick and he tapped a great literary talent to share his spot-on observations. Even at his most cynical, there is a tenderness about him that is endearing.

Anne Frank

Had she not died at Bergen-Belsen, this young girl was undoubtedly destined for greatness. If you have never read "A Diary of a Young Girl", you simply must. It is considered one of the most important written works of the twentieth century. If you knew nothing of her background when you read the book, you would be flabbergasted to learn that its author was a mere teenager. While much of her subject matter is consistent with the concerns of a young girl, the depth of the insight she provides greatly belies her chronological age. Having visited her family's hiding place in Amsterdam, I found myself imagining I was her. I peered from the very window she describes in the diary, my imagination captured by the incomprehensibility of her lengthy and bleak captivity in the annex. And it struck me that the only way she escaped these protective yet suffocating confines was to write. Yes, her real-life story ultimately ended in tragedy. But I, like so many others, still see her with that charming, hesitant smile, penning the latest thought with the skill of an author far more educated, infinitely more seasoned than Anne could ever hope to be. She forever possess the hopefulness that is entirely a product of her eternally preserved youth.

Meryl Streep

An actor's actor. Brilliant, unmatched performances. Dignified yet personable public persona. No tabloids, no controversy. The consummate, professional artist who performs her craft and keeps her private life private. No one could ever, ever be Sophie but Meryl Streep. No one.

Laura Ingalls Wilder

I'm as enthralled with the writer as I am with her "Little House" image. There is a small but vocal contingent of scholars and fans who make the argument that most of the Little House books were heavily ghost written by her daughter, Rose Wilder Lane. After years of my own research and examination, I do not share this opinion. Lane had a strong hand in the editing process, admittedly. But Lane's own work never rivaled the critical nor financial success of her mother's. Most believe, as do I, that they were partners who brought unique skills to the table. Editing is not writing. Writing is not editing. Bottom line: Laura's real life was every bit as interesting as the fictional version which continues to enchant millions of readers. Few other sources provide such a charming, innocent, and surprisingly accurate depiction of the the American pioneer experience.

Sister Helen Prejean

Her life's work is the subject of the film, "Dead Men Walking". Sister Prejean's ministry continues, driven by the mission of abolishing the death penalty. She bases her commitment upon the simple but oddly controversial tenant that life is sacred. Not just innocent, new life but ALL LIFE. Like other Catholic leaders such as Cardinal Bernadin, Sister maintains that a true pro-life position defends not only against abortion but against suicide, euthanasia, embryonic stem cell research, and yes, capital punishment. Her question, "Would Jesus pull the switch?" instantly speaks to the heart of the matter. What's more, she decries the insitutional racism and inherent social injustice that leads to a disproportionate number of poor, disenfranchised men residing on death row. Many conservatives, who are traditionally pro-death penalty and often mitigate the impact of social injustice, find her message troubling. Perhaps it is because so many conservatives quote Jesus freely but can't or won't adhere to the reality of His message--which values compassion, eschews vengeance, without compromise, regardless of circumstance. Sister Prejean says it best, "Is God vengeful, demanding a death for a death? Or is God compassionate, luring souls into love so great that no one can be considered an enemy?"

Modest Earth Day Contribution

2008-04-22T16:11:00.016-05:00

It's not like we're the Sierra Club over here. But we do our part where we can. This year, with the help of the local forestry department, our family planted a new tree in our side parkway. At the moment, it appears to be of the Charlie Brown variety. In fact, a few neighbors have snickered at our humble, bare little addition. That's OK. Charlie Brown didn't care if they laughed at his tree either. They'll see...in a few years, it will be beautiful. And because the planting coincided with the passing of my dear mother-in-law, we're commemorating our plucky sapling in her honor...

After all, she really did have a knack for transforming humble, every day things, including plant life, into lovely adornments. I don't think she believed this about herself but I certainly thought it of her.

In a few short years, with some TLC and a little Divine inspiration, we're hoping our spindly, little transplant will bloom in all her glory and provide us with yet another reason to call our house a home.

What Drives Married People Crazy?

2008-04-21T22:18:00.001-05:00

I am told by a person of some authority in these matters that the number one source of disagreement among married people is...

THE DISHWASHER

I'm not kidding. The bizarre reality is that a significant number of America's wedded sweethearts instantly morph into enemy combatants--all because partner A believes dishes should be scoured, scrubbed, and rinsed BEFORE being placed into the dishwasher. Never mind the pesky rumor that the appliance was designed to, uh... WASH dishes. Partner B crams dishes into the machine with enough caked-on, baked-on food to feed the family all over again. Later that night, partner B prays that partner A sleeps through the melee as a chicken bone pummels grandma's gravy boat and water jets rhythmically hurl the shattered remains throughout the dishwasher, creating a cacophony of glass, ceramic, and metal.

Not that we have any personal experience with this scenario, mind you.

While the dishwasher standoff continues, other, more intrepid forces seek to divide devoted soul mates. Let's start with our closet.

The trend in new home building is the "his and hers" walk-in closets. In our case, we have not been so fortunate. Thankfully, the space known as our closet, is huge and well-appointed. In this case, however, huge is not big enough. Here's why:

J's side

Note the organizational precision, utilizing Dewey decimal methodology

My side

The mystery of the sphinx is more decipherable than the method to this madness.

J's shoe area

Why would you need any more than this?

My shoe area

I could use some more shoes

J's bedside table

Alarm clock discretely hidden behind picture to the left.

My bedside table

Archaeologists may be called in to sift through layers of artifacts.

You could argue that this is a simply a case of neatness vs. messiness. And you may have a point, at least to some degree. But there's more to this story. J tends to value neatness in our private, living spaces while I'm far more cognizant of the areas that "company" sees. J will leave dish washing soap near the kitchen faucet, whereas I always place it under the sink. I can't stand fingerprints and smudges on entry doorways. J never notices them. J get the willies when he sees crumbs between the gaps in the kitchen table and I couldn't care less. I'm very consistent about my coaster usage; J barely knows what a coaster is. Yes, my shoes are housed in the bomb site that is my closet, but at least they're consolidated in one area. J tends to remove shoes, mid stride, and let them fall where they may, which could include conspicuous areas such as our front entry hall, the kitchen, or the stair landings.

What other household realities occasionally tug at the tranquility of our domicile?

J leaves piles of nuts, bolts, string, tin, and plastic ties on any available, flat surface.

I stack extra cookware/bakeware in the oven.

J will only use white towels and washcloths.

I keep five different varieties of shampoo in the shower at all times.

J can't stand the garage to be messy. I couldn't care less.

I can't stand for our cars to be messy. J couldn't care less.

J leaves lights on all the time. I constantly turn them off.

I never perform updates or routine maintenance on my computer. J keeps his in pristine, completely updated condition.

It goes on and on...and yet, we keep chuggin' along. Doing pretty well actually.

As to the hotbed that is the dishwasher, let's just say we retreated to our respective corners.

Sometimes a standoff is the best you can hope for...

Northern Exposure Fans Only...

2008-04-20T00:19:00.012-05:00

I found the final scene from the final episode of my favorite TV show of all time. If you're not a Northern Exposure fan, just skip this post because it won't have any real meaning for you.

After watching this tonight, it came to mind that this show probably wouldn't fly on network TV these days. If you've ever watched the likes of today's network TV dribble...a popular show like CSI:Miami... and, like me, found yourself wondering how such overly-stylized, outlandish, and cheezy entertainment made its way on the airwaves, you are not alone. Compare it to the subtle, textured, and allegorical story lines of Northern Exposure, and you just find yourself wondering...when did entertainment become soooo mediocre and unimaginative; so removed from the unpretentious beauty of day-to-day life?

The first time I watched this episode, I had just met my husband...so everything about this clip makes me smile. Such a happy, hopeful time. When Maggie dances with Chris, you really believe that she's finally, finally found the one. There was hope for me yet...

Missing Her

2008-04-19T00:28:00.004-05:00

Slowly, the reality of life without my mother-in-law is starting to take shape. We're all back to our routines, shuffling our kids to and from school, planning meals, paying our taxes, planting spring flowers. The usual. But we all seem to be a little detached, preoccupied with just how much the day-to-day has changed. Today, I confronted at least a half dozen "missing Millie" moments. As an example…for the last several years, her Friday, weekend check-in call was just another part of my late morning routine.

What do you guys have goin' this weekend? Is Jimmy traveling next week? Oh, that's a long week for you dear. You gotta get out and get a break. Did you watch E.R. this week? What about Gray's Anatomy? How are the kids doin', OK? Me? I'm fine Leigh, OK...Maybe you guys could come over on Sunday. It won't be anything big, OK?. I have a pork roast I got at the IGA. You'll never believe what I paid for it. OK...listen...that's my other line...why don't you just come on Sunday, OK? I don't know who's comin'. Whoever can come, come OK? Love you guys…

How off kilter and lonely the day felt without that call. That's the crazy thing about grief, I suppose. Yesterday, consumed in my world of kid busyness, I managed to avoid the void, so to speak. Today, however, memories emerged with each passing hour. It seemed like the most benign item spurred a recollection, and with it, a pang of sadness. As I pulled out that bent, oxidized strainer to rid the dreaded pulp from E's juice, she was surely right there in my kitchen.

Leigh, that was my grandmother's and I can't tell you how much this old, worn out thing has been used. I can't believe you're still using it. Leigh, if you like this, I got all kinds of stuff in that basement you can have. Oh, it's such a mess down there…who knows where anything is, OK? Oh, I hope the dear Lord takes me first so I don't have to be the one left with it all…

I giggled through my tears. You got your wish on that one, Mil.

Meanwhile JoJo bounces into the kitchen, hoping for a snack. I wipe my tears and attend to my little curly-Q.

"Whats da mattah Chippy?"

"Oh, I'm fine…Just a little sad about Grandma today".

"Oh…I wuv Gwandma!", JoJo says.

I do too, sweetie. I do too.

And so it goes. Life continues.

I miss you Millie. We all do.

JoJo's New Fortified Friend

2008-04-18T21:05:00.001-05:00

Another glimpse into my three-year old daughter's alternate reality...

JoJo made a new three-year old friend at my son's t-ball practice.

"I just love my new friend, Golden Gwaham", she swooned.

"Uh...sweetie, I think his name is just Graham. You might be mixing him up with the breakfast cereal", I cautioned as I chuckled.

"Oh Chippy. You cwack me up. There's no ceweal named Golden Gwaham! His mommy just named him that because he is soooo shiny and new".

Alrighty then.

Golden Graham it is.

More Ethiopia Sponsor Trip Pictures

2008-04-16T11:58:00.004-05:00

photo courtesy of Compassion International (March 08 sponsor trip)

In the comments section of the previous post, Chris from Compassion sent me a link for some more photos from the March sponsor trip. These photos are stunning and I encourage you to look for yourself!

Compassion's March Sponsor Trip Photos

Yet another example of Compassion's incredible work in Ethiopia. I urge you to visit their website and consider sponsoring a child yourself! Just imagine...YOU could be in pictures just like these, providing comfort, aid, spiritual encouragement, and companionship to a child somewhere in the world! What an opportunity and a gift--for you and the child!

Think about it...and join me in Ethiopia next year!

Ethiopia: Next Year, For Sure

2008-04-15T22:32:00.006-05:00

Awassa, Ethiopia... sunset

(All photos courtesy of Ken and Heidi Buckman
--Compassion sponsors and recent travelers to Ethiopia)

Those of you who know me or who follow this blog will recall that I had a trip planned to Ethiopia in March. As many of you are already aware, I decided in January to opt out of the trip due to JoJo's new but worrisome separation anxiety. I knew it was a stage that she would outgrow. On the other hand, the thought of her crying herself to sleep every night for nearly two weeks was more than this mommy could handle. l just could not bring myself to travel across the world to visit my sponsor daughter, knowing all the while, my own little girl would be in a state of constant misery. At three years old, there would be no way she could comprehend such a lengthy separation from me. I cried for a week after I canceled, but I knew, in my heart of hearts, I had made the right decision for me and for my family.

I've come to rely on the whisperings I hear during moments of solitude, soul searching, and yes, prayer. Something tells me that this quiet voice, this barely perceptible yet resonant feeling is truly God's grace. As it happens, had I gone to Ethiopia, I would have been unable to share in the final days of my mother-in-law's life and to support my husband and our family during an agonizing several days in the hospital. How inconsolable I would have been had I not been available for my family during such a time of need.

Thankfully, our sponsor daughter Derebe (pronounced Dair-uh-bay) was able to receive some special attention from another couple who were visiting her area to meet their two, sponsor boys. They were kind enough to send pictures and to share their experiences during the trip. As a sheer coincidence, this couple lives in a suburb only about 25 miles from me! So, I'm looking forward to meeting these kind people in person and to hear more about their impressions of Derebe, her family, and of Ethiopia overall. I owe them tremendous thanks for their willingness to share their truly special experiences and to go out of there way to provide pictures and information. God bless them, indeed.

Here she is...the little shining star...Derebe!

Ken, Derebe, and Heidi

I've learned that their trip was a phenomenal opportunity for all involved and that this very thoughtful husband and wife team have a positive account of Ethiopia in general. Heidi remarked that Americans are bombarded with images of starving children with distended bellies, covered in flies. And while poverty is a major concern in Ethiopia and many other African countries, it is by no means the defining quality of these proud, heritage-rich people. Something tells me that when I finally make this journey, I will be amazed and awe-struck by the beauty of this land and its inhabitants.

Yes...I am planning to go next year. The travel director from Compassion tells me that nearly sixty people were on the waiting list for this year's trip and that they expect a similar interest next year. Jim and I are in agreement that we'll move heaven and earth to get me there next February. And someday, Jim and I would like to take the kids to visit Derebe, their Ethiopian sister.

I would feel remiss if I didn't make yet another plea...Please, please consider sponsoring a child, somewhere in the world, through Compassion International. I continue to be so impressed by the level of commitment and expertise of this truly wonderful organization. While there are many worthy groups who facilitate the financial sponsorship of children, I'm not convinced that many of them foster the type of truly individual, God focused relationship that I and thousands of others sponsors have experienced as a result of Compassion's program. As a sponsor, I have the opportunity to help Derebe and her family with financial and spiritual support. Her letters are so sweet and genuine; my spirit is lifted each time I receive one. JoJo and Ethan contribute to our letter writing and they send pictures, drawings, and mementos. In a very significant way, our children are learning about sharing, sacrifice, and their own relative affluence. My son commented that the children look so happy even though they "don't have a lot of toys". Hmmmmm. I dare say, an observation that many of us would do well to reflect upon.

More lovely, random photos from the trip...

Derebe is front, left

All of these children are precious but the little girl in the front, right corner...what a cutie!

What an incredible photo…for a number of reasons…

Thanks again to Ken and Heidi for so generously sharing your photos and including me in the post-trip loop!

Mammogram Monday

2008-04-14T00:08:00.004-05:00

It sure puts a twist on the manic Monday of Bangles' yesteryear.

Ain't middle age grand?

Then again, considering the alternatives, it's best to just shut up and deal.

I'm just wondering, where do you pick up what the ladies used to call a support undergarment for the post mammogram reshaping?

New Video...My Two Wheeler Boy

2008-04-12T15:11:00.005-05:00

Mommy decided to play around with her new video editing software. Clearly, I haven't mastered film editing and sound mixing. I guess there's a reason people go to FILM SCHOOL, right? The process really gives you a new appreciation for those who win awards for this stuff!

More importantly, Ethan is finito with his training wheels! This is big in these parts. He's (we've) been working on this for a long time. Check it out:

That's How HE Rolls!

Theirs, Mine, Ours

2008-04-09T21:47:00.010-05:00

I could very well be turning into that kind of parent. The type I once smirked at before I had children of my own... My little Johhny can recite the U.S. Constitution from memory. Susie-Q is two and sings within a range of eight octaves. Billy is taking pre-med courses in order to earn his thirty fifth cub scout badge. Oh by the way, he'll be seven this March.

OK, hopefully that's a level of parental lunacy I have not yet attained. But I do find myself spending a lot of time thinking about my kids' success or lack thereof. This topic is especially timely because I recently insisted that E maintain his involvement in a specific activity, despite his repeated requests to drop out. This particular activity is something he is good at and has really enjoyed in the past. Here's the crimp: he's now reached a point where it's not coming naturally. He's got to practice. He's at a level where he is no longer the top dog. He's got to work at it. So, as with any six year old, E would rather just play. Or sit in front of his Nintendo DS.

Not on my watch, buddy... My compromise is that he may quit once he achieves a reasonable level of competence. This level could easily be reached by the end of the Spring if he puts forth a bit of effort. The thought here is that once he attains this new level, he will be re-inspired and want to stick with it. If not, however, he's welcome to call it quits.

But what he may not do is simply give up because it's challenging. Or because he's not the star. After all, isn't accomplishment all the more satisfying if it's hard to achieve? If I permit him to quit the moment he encounters resistance, aren't I allowing him to miss out on an opportunity to learn? To grow? To develop that besmirched yet still secretly revered parental holy grail: childhood self-esteem.

Admittedly, a part of me can't shake the classic stage mother image. Rosalind Russel as Gypsie Rose Lee's maniacal mother, controlling every detail of her daughter's career. Achieving her self worth by way of her daughter's success. Or those tense moms exuding contrived perkiness, who work two jobs to put their daughters on the beauty pageant circuit. You've seen their gritted teach under strained smiles. Coaching their ridiculously coiffed little girl through song and dance routines. Every misstep will surely result in endless do-overs and reprimands. Mom assures the interviewer that the child can quit any time she wants as the camera pans to the child's nervous, tentative smile. Meanwhile, you're almost sure you caught a twitch in mom's left eye as she surely fathoms the possibility of her daughter leaving the pageant without a crown or a title. Mom struggles to hide a cringe as she remembers her job as check-out supervisor at the Piggly Wiggly. Back to Bud Light Friday nights and juggling the light bill with the car note. Just so the rent gets paid.

Scary.

Granted, I'm not placing myself among the ranks of these tortured souls. But I have to admit that I love it when my kids do well. At anything. And when they fall behind or miss the mark, I'm a little nervous. Will this affect them later on? Will they be excluded because they don't know how to do a, b, or c? Can I do more to help them succeed?

I'm just voicing an inner reality check. The fact is that kids are going to blow it. Sometimes, when you least expect it, they rock your world with victories both large and small. You just have to make sure that you don't measure your parental worth by the rising and falling meter of kid accomplishment. We moms, including this one, will do well to divest ourselves just a bit from children's successes and failures. And if at all possible, we can and should make our mark in ways unrelated to our children. A mom who feels good about who she is and what she has to offer just may be less concerned about her children's achievement and have more capacity to focus on the most important goals: her children's ability to show kindness and compassion. To display grace under pressure. To be resilient in the face of loss. To show character in times of crisis. A mom who feels a sense of accomplishment independent of her children won't be crushed by every childhood pitfall. And she allows her children to own their successes, independent of her.

Turns out, distinguishing your own life from that of your children benefits not only the mommy, but the kiddos as well.

I'm learning friends. I'm learning.

In Like a Lion

2008-04-03T23:18:00.005-05:00

...and out like a lion. What happened to our much anticipated, end-of-March lamb?

While I'm not generally superstitious, I have to give Oracle her due. She reminded me several days ago that loss and tragedy tend to befall us in sets of three. Suffice it to say that the third one hit and it has leveled my equilibrium. I'm needed now in ways that overwhelm me. I'm called to help another in a manner that tests my strength, my character. Currently, I feel like that wide-eyed deer in a headlight that everyone always talks about.

Is it possible to give what you do not have? Or do you, by the grace of God, find a way to build it up, so that you do, in fact, have what it takes to help another in a time of peril? And how much do you risk in the process?

Hand wringing and elusive generalizations aside, suffice it to say that this blogger, this mommy, is very happy to say goodbye to March.

I'm thinking April will be this family's time to find that lost lamb. If you've seen him, let me know.

In the meantime, Spring is here. Amen.

Two Hundred Mommy Facts

2008-03-29T23:18:00.005-05:00

I have two children. My son is 6 and my daughter is 3.
I am 41 and my husband is 44.
I met my husband, on the phone, while we worked for the same company.
We had a long distance relationship for two years until we married in 1995.
Biting on cotton is nearly unbearable for me.
I love the smell of books, especially new books.
I miss my maternal grandmother every single day.
I have very dry skin.
I hate it when people talk or ask questions during a movie.
I love being with people in short bursts.
I recharge my batteries by being alone.
The song "It's Not Easy Being Green" by Kermit the Frog always makes me cry.
I love my mother.
Airplane take-offs make my heart race.
I have dieted, with varying degrees of success, since I was 19 years old.
Parochial schools were my saving grace.
When I was 15, I thought Brooke Shields was the prettiest girl on the planet.
My closet is almost always a total disaster.
I officially joined the Catholic Church in 2002.
I love cars.
Long before I met my husband, I lived in a warehouse among many artists.
I am proud of and thankful for my life as it is now.
I lost my mother-in-law two weeks ago and it still does not seem real.
I love to dress children.
I can be very outgoing but being so does not come naturally.
My eighth-grade teacher changed my life for the better.
I think women should dress modestly.
I occasionally regret not going to law school.
Some of my friends I have had for over thirty-five years.
My son's sense of humor amazes me.
My daughter's empathy amazes me.
I know how to drive a stick-shift.
I feel more comfortable leading than following.
l drove across the country by myself—twice.
An ex-boyfriend is now a recognized photographer who works with many celebrities.
I love fresh flowers.
My freshman year in college was incredibly fun and liberating.
The art of chit chat is not one of my strong points.
I regret my treatment of a friend from young adulthood.
Walking barefoot gives me the willies.
I love really nice purses.
I am thankful to my parents for giving me life.
I detest smoking.
Sometimes being a SAHM/homemaker is really boring.
I wish I could play an instrument.
I graduated from U.C. Berkeley.
I have the best aunt on the planet.
I love my children so much it makes my heart hurt.
A reference is made about me in a published work of fiction.
My husband has a very high tolerance for my faults.
The world is so beautiful to me sometimes.
I have won a lot of money playing blackjack.
I love Coca-Cola.
My hair is naturally curly.
I have bungee jumped.
Lovely is my favorite fragrance.
I wash my face before bed time, without fail, every night.
I met and had a conversation with Mariel Hemingway at a party.
My favorite actor is Ralph Fiennes.
I'm mildly curious about botox.
I never thought I would love living in the Midwest as much as I do.
I love Jane Austen's work.
I wear a lot less make-up than I did when I was younger.
I watch very little network TV.
NPR bores me to tears.
I am fascinated by certain aspects of politics.
I want to take horseback riding lessons with my daughter.
I wish I had a closer relationship with my brothers and sisters.
I plan to visit the home of Laura Ingalls Wilder in the next few months.
When I go back to California to see friends and family, I feel like a visitor.
I'm less materialistic than I used to be.
I don't like to stay overnight at people's houses.
I sometimes wonder what I would be doing right now had I never married.
I used to be "pro-choice".
Cooking does not come naturally to me.
I currently know of someone who needs my friendship very badly.
I want to be more generous with my time.
I marvel at both the talent and the stupidity in the blogging community.
I would love to have a restaurant style soda machine in my house.
I would like to curse less.
Eating raw carrots gives me the hiccups.
I wish I could have one more child.
I love Disneyworld.
I don't wear nail polish.
Chinese food no longer appeals to me.
I procrastinate over certain things.
I can't sleep at night unless I've checked that the entry doors are locked.
Underneath the hair coloring and highlights, I am more than 50% gray.
I'll go without many things before I give up my cleaning lady.
I love Super Nanny.
I'll take a bath over a shower if I have the time.
I love a well stocked, organized linen closet.
I adore Sting.
FOX News gives me a headache.
I'm more lenient as a parent than I imagined I would be.
I'm a hair/beauty product addict.
I like our cars to be clean.
Writing is therapy for me.
I have googled my own name.
I find some Catholic bloggers to be sanctimonious.
I drink alcohol very infrequently.
I don't like coffee.
I would be lost without my computer.
I love to send Christmas cards.
Perky people make me ill at ease.
I have very little tanning ability.
I ask the Lord for His forgiveness nearly every day.
I love to read to my children at night.
I laugh every time I watch "Four Weddings and a Funeral".
There are a handful of people whose approval I seek.
I survived years of childhood abuse at the hands of an entrusted caregiver.
My visit to the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam made a lasting impression on me.
I hoard hotel toiletries.
I have a Pez collection.
I can't use butter that has a single crumb in it.
I would like to be more disciplined.
Scrapbooking holds no interest for me.
I listen to talk radio every day.
I no longer hear Midwestern accents.
I find my attention span is not what it used to be.
My children's academic success is very important to me.
I don't really enjoy the beach.
I'm sincere.
I love to use our fireplaces.
One of my favorite shops is American Girl in downtown Chicago.
I used to be a vegetarian.
I love Roseanne reruns.
I have no desire to home school my children.
I'm very consistent about changing linens on my family's beds.
I never realized that one needs seven different kinds of coats to live in our region's climate.
I love snowy, blustery days.
It is a big relief to know that my daughter will not be physically challenged.
I often think of my sponsor daughter in Ethiopia.
I don't like anything that is gelatinous.
I love my Princess Diana doll.
I get in moods where I don't like to talk on the phone.
I get in moods where all I want to do is talk on the phone.
I admire Oprah but she's starting to bug me.
When I was twenty I promised myself I would never wear "mom clothes".
I wear mom clothes.
I don't like hot dogs.
I love Crocs.
I wish my kitchen was just a little bigger.
I'm not a fanatic about my kids' diet.
A visit to Kennedy Space Center made me wonder how we ever made it to the moon.
Mackinac Island is a little slice of heaven.
I miss Carmel, California.
No one's lemon squares will ever rival my mother-in-law's
I have purchased underwear when I didn't feel like doing laundry.
I have a very sensitive sense of smell.
I need to drink more water.
I have a very good memory for phone numbers.
I constantly lose my keys.
I love Amy Winehouse's music.
My willpower is not what it once was.
I hope my daughter never has to struggle with her weight.
I'm surprisingly decent at softball.
I think people are surprised by how religious I am.
I do have moments of absolute contentment.
I firmly believe in the concept of evil as a reality in the world.
I love the Yankee Candle store but I get a headache if stay too long.
Downtown shopping is loads of fun.
The generosity of many of my friends is amazing.
I'm due for a mammogram.
I have never misplaced my watch.
I love spending time with my family.
I want to learn how to snowboard.
Sometimes I wish I weren't so serious.
I'm a suburban girl; I was not meant to live in the city.
I have been a SAHM longer than I worked outside the home.
I recognize that my husband works tirelessly for our family.
One friend's family disharmony breaks my heart.
I recently met a new friend who I think is right-up-my-alley.
I'm an avid reader.
I wish my neighborhood was more ethnically diverse.
I need to be better about returning phone calls.
I have a friend who is over 90 years old.
My father-in-law's stories are often very interesting to me.
I really like "American Experience" on PBS.
I'm not entirely convinced that jazz is all it's cracked up to be.
We pay a disproportionate amount of taxes.
I like going to Las Vegas.
I love my father.
Cocktail parties are not really my thing.
I wonder what heaven is like.
I feel sad that my third grade teacher wore the same outfit every day of the school year.
Sometimes I feel at a loss as to how to keep my kids busy.
I don't like caramel.
Modern art doesn't hold the same appeal for me as it used to.
I was crazy for MTV when it first aired in 1982.
My wedding was beautiful.
I wish they still made Chick-o-Sticks.
I developed a new respect for Madonna once I saw her perform live.
I worked for Clinique way, way back when.
There are a few people with whom I avoid confrontation at all cost.
My cat is cute but dumber than dirt.
Watching a loved one die peacefully is both heart wrenching and beautiful.
I don't really like casseroles.
I'm getting tired of going to the grocery store.
I am the age my mother was when I graduated from college.

Slacker Church Behavior

2008-03-28T10:07:00.012-05:00

The great thing about Catholic converts is that we tend to be pretty enthusiastic about our faith. We can recite the Nicene Creed in our sleep. Sacramentals adorn every room in our homes. We will gladly tell you everything you ever wanted to know about Lourdes, Fatima, and Majegoria. How about a Novena? We can crank one out like nobody's business.

So imagine, if you will, how deflated we must feel when a fellow Catholic gives a blank look and asks, "What's a Novena?"

After recovering from exasperation and disbelief, we methodically explain about the practice of praying (often the Rosary) for nine consecutive days. To which you might hear,

"Oh, I think my great-grandmother did something like that back in the day. We just thought she was senile".

As Charlie Brown used to say, "Good grief". In fact , a little of Lucy's 5 cent psychiatric care might ease my impulse to pull out a ruler and inflict the proper penance for such a dim response.

I know, I know. There is nothing worse than a convert when it comes to telling everyone else what they're supposed to be doing. And it's true, we RCIA cadets emerge from our discernment with convictions that are freshly honed and admittedly, perhaps just a wee over zealous. You know, preachy. But grant me this...we converts chose our faith, as adults, and unlike "cradle Catholics", we learned the practices and teachings of the Church with an adult intellect and from an experienced perspective. I think this gives us a degree of credibility when it comes to professing our faith and justifying the intentions that drive such an eager commitment. We also tend to notice more of the "routine" aspects of worship than do our "lifer" brothers and sisters.

So, at the risk of sounding like the Church Lady, here is some less-than-spirited Church conduct that I've noticed over the years:

Half-Hearted Mass Participation:
Genuflection requires that you lower yourself, on one knee, to the ground. Curtsies, knee twitches, and leg stretches do not count. The disabled and elderly get a pass, apparently.

When bowing to the alter or before the Blessed Sacrament, try to make it appear as more than a flinch or a nod to a distant acquaintance on the street. We should not have to wonder if your bow was actually a brief neck spasm.

When blessing yourself before the Gospel of the Word, you are reminding yourself to keep the Word in your mind, on your lips, and in your heart. I’m not sure that making the gesture on your temple, your nose, and on your shoulder blade makes the same statement. Is it really that hard to locate your forehead, lips, and the general location of your heart?

Prayer Slackers:
Unless you are younger than five, learn the prayers of our faith. Don’t lip sync your way through and hope that your pew neighbor’s loud voice obscures your befuddled lack of participation. Avoid whining about the Nicene Creed taking too long to recite. The Apostles Creed works but it is the Reader’s Digest version, friends.

Try to recite prayers with more enthusiasm than that which you would give to a chore list. Somehow, “Hosanna in the highest” loses its impact when you’re also wiping your kid’s nose or mentally compiling your weekly grocery list. Don’t think people notice your prayer distraction? They do. More importantly, I'm thinking God notices too. I'm not speaking for Him, mind you. Just a leap on my part.

Bad Church Etiquette:
Avoid club wear to Mass. I doubt God cares how hot you are. Save the low-rise jeans, skin tight tops, and micro-minis for a location other than church. You should probably avoid this attire altogether but that one is your call. I can't be everyone's mommy.

Have your kids change out of their sports uniforms for Mass. Unless it’s a dire hardship, just put the darlings in proper street clothes. Somehow, hobbling to receive Communion in soccer cleats doesn’t seem particularly reverent. A gi clad Karate chopper or a padded, jersey wearing football player may be slightly distracting to those of us in the stands. I mean pews.

Wear your Sunday best. If this is a laundered pair of jeans and an unwrinkled t-shirt...great. You don't have to put on airs for the Lord. But I think a little respect is on order, don’t you? How about avoiding the cargo pants that have been rolled up in a ball, on the floor, and under your cat? Ladies, how about trading in the yoga pants for a skirt or a dress?

Wait until Mass has ended before assembling babies, coats, hats, mittens, scarves, electronic devices, snacks, children’s books and all the rest of it. FYI: Mass isn’t over as soon as you’ve received Communion. Who knew?

It’s probably not a great idea to flip the Body of Christ around on your tongue like a lifesaver. Think about what’s in your mouth. It’s not bubble gum and it’s not an after-dinner mint.

**************************

OK...I'm done. For now, anyway. Admittedly, I'm guilty of at least a few of these from time to time.

Let's all remember what it is that we're celebrating, commemorating, and honoring. Life has an uncanny way of getting in the way of all we hold most dear.

Assume It's a Sin

2008-03-25T22:00:00.044-05:00

My favorite blogging nun, Sister Mary Martha, recently posted on what she considers to be "sins of the new millennium". These "sins" are actually what the rest of us would describe as obnoxious behavior. You know...irritating realities that have somehow infiltrated our daily lives. Take, for example, the endless, rambling cell phone banter we hear from perfect strangers. Constantly. In a taxi. At the grocery store. Fast food workers wearing Bluetooth earpieces. Yapping about last night’s party-at-the-club while keying in food items that in no way approximate anything you actually ordered.

You might wonder which other random vexations Sister MM extols to the full-fledged rank of SIN...

Deep fried macaroni and cheese. Self-righteous cable talk show hosts. Tooth bling. I'll even throw in a few on her behalf: A lone sales clerk for a line of 28 at a fabric store close-out sale. Brain-dead bank tellers. Naming your newborn child Blueberry Jade instead of her Church sanctioned saint name, Agnes Scholastica. Baptizing your child when he/she wears a size 6X. Even THINKING about missing Mass to catch that Bears game. Failing to return your pew kneeler to the upright and locked position. Got the gist?

These life irritations may not fall under the heading of sin in our world, but all of the above clearly register on Sister’s transgression radar. Call it creative license in the condemnation department. And while you might dismiss her extended sin criteria as the ravings of a crusty, worn out nun, you can be sure that generations of scheme-hatching munchkins were subjected to similar world views from equally observant, habit-wearing arbiters of all things sinful.

This shouldn’t come as a surprise, you know. I, for one, just assumed that nuns took a liberty-or-two when it came to characterizing sin. Not an altogether bad strategy to maintain a shred of order among their numerous, young charges. I'm not sure it did much for the Church's ultimate credibility, but hey, it's what some of these overworked women had to do to keep untold numbers of miniature heathens in line.

More nun manufactured sinfulness:

poor penmanship

wrinkled pleats on uniform jumpers

edge of pleats on uniform jumpers which do not create paper cuts

untucked, Peter Pan collared blouses

tardiness

uniforms that reveal any indication of the female form

dog-eared textbook pages

dirty chalk board erasers

dirty desk tops

glossy Chapstick (dangerously close to appearing like make-up)

failing to volunteer at the rectory to staple church bulletins

bringing store bought cupcakes to the bake sale

using the edge of the pew to support your backside while kneeling

singing at Mass with Baptist-like enthusiasm

singing at Mass with any enthusiasm

engaging in activities that seem too “Protestant”. Bible camps, holding hands in church, etc.

laughter of any kind during the retirement mass of an archbishop. (Not that I had any personal experience with this, mind you.)

anything or anyone not deemed specifically holy or pure

As a kid you might have thought twice about arriving 1.5 minutes late from recess if your punishment was certain, eternal damnation to the fires of you-know-where. A slightly more persuasive deterrent than the obligatory 150-word essay, no doubt.

So give the nuns a little leeway in the sin definition department. They're still pulling out all the stops to get a maximum number of souls into Heaven. Overkill, in this case, never actually killed anyone. It kept generations of children on the straight and narrow. (And afforded financial security to countless mental health practitioners.)

P.S. I adore Sister Mary Martha. And several other nuns for that matter. All in good fun, right?

Philippians, You Say?

2008-03-24T23:19:00.017-05:00

When asked if I would be willing to give a reading at my mother-in-law's recent funeral mass, I had no qualms. Of course. Anything I could do to contribute to the celebration of her life would be an honor and a privilege.

I wasn't particularly worried about reading a paragraph of scripture to what would surely be a large but loving group of friends and relatives. After all, most of these people I have known or known of for many years. It was my plan to read the passage a few times in the morning before the mass and that would be ample preparation. No worries. Right?

Enter my prankster brother-in-law. As my mother-in-law's wake began to wind down, he mischievously cautioned me to not mistakenly designate the reading as "A Letter From St. Paul To the Filipinos". I assured him with a twinge of irritation that I was well aware that Paul was addressing the Philippians.

"I'm just sayin'. You just might get it twisted", he warned. Eyes twinkling.

"Thanks for the tip. There is no way I could make that mistake", I humorlessly huffed.

After collapsing that night in the hotel bed, I was on the verge of drifting off when the thought of the word Filipinos flashed thought my mind. Filipinos. Philippians. Philippians. Filipinos. Filipinos. Filipinos. Filipinos. Philippians. Philippians. Philippians. OK, Leigh. Stop thinking about this. Oh dear God. Filipinos, Philippians. Filipinos, Philippians. I might actually hose this thing!

I was panic stricken for several minutes before I talked myself out of my brain short circuit. Thankfully, the need for sleep prevailed. But I awoke in the morning to the distinct memory of a dream in which I aimlessly wandered in Vallejo, California, from one nondescript restaurant to another, increasingly distraught because none of them were serving Lumpia or Chicken Adobo.

My brother-in-law doomed me. My fate was sealed. I was going to flub-up this thing. (You can use your imagination and replace flub with another expletive, if your mind goes there. Believe me--mine went there!)

Well, I didn't. Flub it up, that is. By the grace of God.

My husband smiled as I read to the crowded church,

"A reading from St. Paul to the....(slight pause) Philippians."

I want you to be happy, always happy in the Lord; I repeat, what I want is your happiness. Let your tolerance be evident to everyone; the Lord is very near. There is no need to worry; but if there is anything you need, pray for it, asking God for it with prayer and thanksgiving, and that piece of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus. Finally, fill your minds with everything that is true, everything that is noble, everything that is good and pure, everything that we love and honor, and everything that can be thought virtuous or worthy of praise. Keep doing all things that you learned from me and have been taught by me and have heard or seen that I do. Then the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4: 4-9)

Philippians or Filipinos. Mexicans or Moldavians. Any way you shake it, Millie was smiling, even chuckling, I bet. I can hear her now...

"It's fine Leigh, OK?. It's about what you're saying, not about being perfect, OK? And that swearing, it's not the first time I've heard it, OK? Just say flub, if you can..."

Got it Millie. I got it.

Apparently, there really is no need to worry. Or curse, for that matter. Both are habits I can do without.

Life goes on. Flub-ups and all.

For Once....

2008-03-19T23:34:00.005-05:00

I just don't feel like putting words to thoughts. Thoughts to words. Whatever... The noggin is tightly packed, as usual, but I wouldn't know where to start, where to end.

Sometimes you just have to let it all stew.

She is Home....

2008-03-15T13:22:00.008-05:00

My dearest mother-in-law Millie passed away very early this morning. She was surrounded by her family.

In keeping with my father-in-law's wish for expedited services, a wake will be held tomorrow (Sunday) and her funeral Mass will be performed on Monday.

All will be welcome. (Would Millie have it any other way?)

Prayers For the Journey

2008-03-14T10:06:00.011-05:00

You will be home soon, my dear Millie. I see our Father, arms open wide, waiting with all the love that any one could ever imagine.

In the meantime, you are loved right here, right now. For the hours or days that remain.

Flowers ALWAYS Work For Me!

2008-03-12T21:52:00.004-05:00

Virtual flowers from my U.K. blogger-in-kind.
Why thank you!

She has six of these people we call children. The fact that she maintains a blog, raises a team of kids, and HOMESCHOOLS is nothing short of a feat.

Visit her site to take a peek "across the pond" at the life of a homeschooling mum of six. Very charming.

JoJo's Alter Ego

2008-03-11T20:20:00.021-05:00

...more than a passing resemblance if you ask me...

Currently, JoJo's favorite bedtime book. You know the drill. I've read it no less than 94 times. She doesn't read but she knows every word. On really busy nights, I'll try to pull a fast one and skip a few phrases.

"Oh, chippy! I know what yuwa twying to do! Yuwa twying to twick me!" (Speech clarification: think "Tweety Bird".)

Well, actually, yes, I was. Out of guilt, I finish every word of "Alice". Then, as more restitution, I
grab another book. (Who's running this operation, anyway?)

Anything by David Shannon wins mommy big points. The kid adores this guy's books. I do too, for that matter. E, on the other hand, says Shannon "draws boys and girls all scary and weird".

Hmmm. He may have a point, although I think Shannon's illustrations are enchanting. They're the most interesting mix of child-like drawing and inspired artistry.

I guess his figures are a little creepy, huh?

The "Rules" ?

2008-03-07T14:04:00.002-06:00

A fellow Catholic mom blogger posted the following:

Ten Rules for a Happy & Successful Wife

1.) Avoid arguments. Your husband has his share from other sources.

2.) Don't nag.

3.) Don't drink or eat to excess.

4.) If you offend your husband, always ask forgiveness before you retire.

5.) Compliment your husband liberally. It makes him a better husband.

6.) Budget wisely together. Live within your income.

7.) Be sociable and go out with your husband.

8.) Dress neatly and attractively for your husband, and keep your home clean and cheerful.

9.) Keep your household troubles to yourself.

10.) Pray together and stay together.

To which I replied (slightly edited from my original comments to correct grammar and improve content):

Something tells me that this list was originally composed by a woman. Good Lord, we are often so hard on each other.

Do these "rules" apply to husbands as well? I'm not a "feminist" as popular culture defines such a label. And no single "rule" is offensive or even necessarily "wrong". In aggregate, however, the "rules" seem more than a little oppressive. Your list just smacks of retrograde marriage/motherhood from the 1950s. During that era, Valium use/abuse by married women of childbearing age reached epidemic levels. Imagine that.

This list is similar to the "wife/mother doctrine" espoused by Mormons, by the way. It's not coincidental that Utah's women are considered the most depressed in the nation and have the highest rate of antidepressant usage in America. I think it's important to remember that we're human beings, not servile robots. When we live ONLY to meet someone else's practical and emotional needs, we eventually whither. Or worse.

As a Catholic mother and wife, I strive to bear my cross and offer up my weaknesses. On the other hand, I don't think my husband wants or expects a long suffering martyr. Can we dispense with mandates and just focus on being loving, supportive spouses in the context of a partnership? Please?

California Homeschooling Ruling

2008-03-06T09:02:00.004-06:00

I just heard this morning that in California, it has been ruled that parents are no longer permitted to home school unless the teaching parent is credentialed accordingly. Wow. This will have a sweeping impact since it's my understanding that 100,000+ children are taught at home in that state. (My birthplace and home for 34 years).

I can only imagine what some of the blogging moms will think of this ruling. You have to think that other like-minded states will follow suite (i.e., New York, Massachusetts, Oregon, Vermont, Michigan, Washington, perhaps even Illinois).

As for me, I'm torn. For once, I'm on the fence. I see the merit of both sides of the argument. I'll have to stew on this one. Part of me thinks the teacher's union had a hand in this somehow...Still, if anyone can effectively instruct, why do paid teachers receive undergraduate and post graduate degrees?

200th Post

2008-03-05T20:41:00.010-06:00

I just noticed that my last post was my 200th (for this blog alone). That's a whole lotta dribble if you ask me.

Sometimes people ask me why I blog. Where do I get the time? Am I an aspiring writer? Am I at all concerned about my family's privacy? What's the fascination with documenting silly details, occurrences, observations? Do I really think anyone else cares about my life's minutia?

I can't say with any real certainty how much or how little people care about my world. But I can say with absolute conviction that blogging has become a habit. I, like many others, have found that writing allows me to clear the hard drive, so to speak. If I put words to thoughts, I feel like my tightly packed noggin becomes a little less cluttered.

The blog started entirely as a way to journal my life as a mother and to chronicle the goings-on of my children. What a gift it will be to one day bestow them with their mother's narrative. How I wish that my mother and grandmothers had done it for me. After all, so much is forgotten as time passes. And I believe that adult children can benefit from understanding their parents' past elations, motivations, challenges, convictions, and yes, disappointments. My hope is that my story will give some context to their childhood memories and insight into my (and my husband's) parental choices.

Admittedly, I have other, less lofty reasons for keeping a blog. I like the relationships I have fostered with other bloggers. We learn from each other by engaging in a level of discourse that is generally supportive, often creative, and almost always engaging. Motherhood is often a confining and lonely endeavor, no matter how many children surround us. Face-to-face friendships are important but lets face it...it's tough to coordinate schedules to carve out that quality time together. I don't mean squeezing in a few sentences with friends during a play date or over a soccer game. There is plenty of that. I'm talking about taking the time to sit down with someone and have a distraction free, relaxed conversation. Not easy to come by, that is for sure. In the blogosphere, however, you blog when you can, read other blogs from all over the world, and comment on posts that strike a chord. When you feel like it. On your schedule.

And I love to write. I have ever since I was a teenager. The arrangement of words is endlessly fascinating to me. Even the most prosaic discourse can have a certain elegance to it. Does the sentence overstate the case? Is that metaphor overly trite? Does my purposeful misuse of grammar appear as such or does it just seem like I failed sixth grade English? Have I aptly conveyed what I was really thinking or did I somehow miss the mark? Do I really need that "Dom Perignon " caliber word when the "Two-Buck-Chuck" suffices nicely?

While my posts do not often meet a literary standard, there are many which make me happy and a handful that even elicit a bit of pride. Some were written in a matter of minutes and others took hours. It is true that I easily lose track of time when composing a new post or editing an old one. And when I'm not writing, my thoughts often wander to old posts. I frequently think of words or phrases that better depict my intent or convey my point with greater subtlety. I just love the way a single comma can completely change an idea's meaning. How the artful choice of words can create a sentence that perfectly reflects the complexity of a thought. Or how uninspired composition makes the very same sentence appear pretentious and contrived.

I would really feel like something was askew if I suddenly stopped blogging. Ultimately, I find great comfort in capturing life's moments in words. And by sharing convictions with those who express an interest (or with the poor sap who unwittingly stumbles upon my site). On some days, only a few die hards check in and on others, I receive hundreds of hits. Either way, I will be blogging into the foreseeable future.

Let's see how the next two hundred posts unfold. God willing.

The Song Says It All

2008-03-04T23:00:00.010-06:00

"For Good"

This beautiful song from the Broadway musical "Wicked" almost always brings me to tears.

Especially tonight.

(P.S. Every girl, young and old, should see this show.)

(Elphaba) I'm limited
Just look at me - I'm limited
And just look at you
You can do all I couldn't do, Glinda
So now it's up to you
For both of us - now it's up to you...

(Glinda) I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you

Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good

(Elphaba) It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...

Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you

(Glinda) Because I knew you

(Both) I have been changed for good

(Elphaba) And just to clear the air
I ask forgiveness
For the thing I've done you blame me for

(Glinda) But then, I guess we know
There's blame to share

(Both) And none of it seems to matter anymore

(Glinda) Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes a sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood

(Elphaba) Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a bird in the wood

(Both) Who can say if I've been
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better

(Glinda) And because I knew you...

(Elphaba) Because I knew you...

(Both) Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good.

Prayers, please

2008-03-04T11:54:00.002-06:00

My beloved mother-in-law is very ill and is being admitted to the hospital yet again. Please, faithful friends, pray for this incredible lady who is having a very hard go of it. None of us can imagine the world without her, and if it should come to that, we will need your prayers as well.

My mother-in-law has a special devotion to the Blessed Mother. If you could also join me in praying for our Blessed Mother's intercession, I would be truly grateful.

Again, our thanks, in Christ,

Leigh

Kidspeak

2008-03-02T22:05:00.032-06:00

Kidspeak. Toddler talk. We parents get pretty good at deciphering our kids' muddled attempts to speak everyday English. Just today my son asked me when we could go visit cousin "Domino" (he meant Dominic). That got me thinking about a few memorable words and phrases that my two little people have unwittingly bungled (or improved upon, you decide).

corn-on-the-bob

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your tree, Jesus.

God's outfit

money card

Abraham Lickin'

Communion waiver

How can I get one of those money machines?

Darth Tater
(The toy really exists but little man referred to the movie character as such for at least a year.)

Are we having cow bones for dinner?

Block and Buster

I'll have a Friday sandwich.

pokey

The guy who brings stuff from ebay

Freaky Fried Chicken

lellow

Missy Mouse

butcakes

movie heaters

Jennifer Grievous

Owivia

hot log

"In the name of the Father, the fun, and the Holy Spirit..."

The Wisdom of Beloved Leaders

2008-03-01T10:18:00.004-06:00

A New Addition

2008-02-29T23:56:00.005-06:00

I've added another blog to themommymemoir family:

My new home for all things political. The first post is complete. Enjoy (or not).

Click here to take a look.

Thankful

2008-02-25T14:39:00.000-06:00

When I'm feeling kind of "blah", it always helps to tally a few blessings . I'm convinced that it is a singular grace to appreciate what you have, while you have it. I, like so many, fall into the trap of living in the future..."If I accomplish x,y,and z, then I will be satisfied". Worse yet, I occasionally look to the past and recount bounty that was unappreciated, presumed, perhaps even squandered. Sometimes, it helps to acknowledge that the here-and-now just might be as good as it gets. And that 'aint half bad.

I am thankful for:

My parents: Who gave me life, despite less-than-ideal circumstances. They did the best they could. For the major parenting screw-ups, all if forgiven. And that forgiveness is a gift, in and of itself. A gift for all of us.

Family. I married the right guy who is just crazy enough to put up with me. Still. I had children at the right time, built my own life, and fashioned the family I had always envisioned. I take note of this not to boast, but rather, to acknowledge that I'm blessed and honored to have these three wonderful people in my life, every day of my life. This may not be the case tomorrow and it most certainly will not be like this forever. Life is fragile. Life changes.

My husband's family. Which is now my family. It has been an adventure to be part of this loving, compassionate, giving, sometimes unruly, mega-social bunch of crazy Catholics. They truly are wonderful. And living satire to boot.

Faith. Living without faith is to have no true direction, no rudder. To not experience the abundant love and strength given to us by God is to feel abandoned, much like an orphan. When faith becomes a reality and not an abstraction, your life is transformed.

My Aunt M. She's more like a sister than an aunt. I can't imagine this world without her. My guess is that many people feel this way about her. She lights up a room.

Friends. I'm not a collector of people. That is to say, I'm not one to have hoards of acquaintances hanging about nor do I seek the company of others simply to avoid being alone. When I do call someone a friend, they have my complete loyalty. I'm blessed to have a number of incredible women in my life whom I consider "lifers". In one way or another, I'll know them as long as I'm living. And I do not take that gift for granted.

Art: I'm not a connoisseur nor am I an artist. But the world would be very bland without art. I don't think God intended us to lead purely practical lives. Everyone should produce at least one thing that achieves no prudent aim whatsoever. I'm thankful for this tiny, Bohemian inner voice of mine.

Home. It's more than my house, although the dwelling itself is nice and we worked hard to have it. It's everything else. Our photos, the children's artwork, my collections, our pets, our flowers, plants, shrubs. My little office right off of the kitchen. The children's growth marks in each of their closets. Toys. The kids' bedrooms--they're magical and they make me happy every time I enter either of them. Our books. It really does take so much to make a house a home. To make it your own.

Neighbors. Many of whom are also friends. Salt of the earth. Kind, generous, thoughtful. Within a few weeks of living here (back in 03), I knew the names of 15 neighbors. In California, in our first home, I never knew the name of our next-door-neighbor! After two years! Your neighborhood is, in many respects, more important than your house itself.

Love of words. Reading, writing. Writing, reading.

Simplicity. Despite my weakness for the occasional luxury, I also really appreciate the goofiest things. The way flowers make a hospital entrance seem so welcoming. Post-it Notes. William-Sonoma hand soap. Freshly laundered bed linens. Johnson's Baby Lotion. Baths. Crayons. The Zoo. Fireplaces. Crisp, new magazines. #2 pencils.

Turns out...I feel better.
Told you it works.

Give this blessing tally a shot. You might just be amazed once you see the words on the page.

An Obama Supporter Weighs In

2008-02-23T23:13:00.011-06:00

A friend from my Berkeley days is an ardent Obama supporter. As you can imagine, I've taken him to task in the comments section of his newly created blog. I've said many times, I'm always willing to listen to any well-formed opinion. If you're interested, click here to take a look.

Side note: Can it really be true that I graduated from college 20 years ago?? Yikes.

Through His Eyes

2008-02-22T07:11:00.008-06:00

A few weeks past, I made mention of an African-American friend to my husband and for some reason that I do not recall, I described my friend as "black". Ethan must have heard this and tucked it away into his five-year old memory bank somewhere. While preparing dinner a few days ago, Ethan asked me why I described friend A as "black".

With flour up-to-my elbows, my first impulse was to simply respond with, "Because that's what he is" and proceed with my chicken piccata. But in a rare moment of parental clarity, I thought better of that curt response. My little boy, who understands nothing about ethnicity and race, deserved a better answer. So, I took a moment to translate my response into his 5-year old language.

"But Mommmm...Why is he called black? He's brown!!"

Good question.

My response was spattered with "uh" and "well" and then some lame analogy about me being "white". His response,

"Mommm you're not white. You're peach".

He's got me there.

After a short but deliberate explanation about why it's just better to use the more accurate description of "African American", he looked at me blankly and declared,

"Whatever. I just like calling him by his name. When's dinner gonna be ready mommmm?"

Point taken, little man. Point taken.

Three Cheers For Dr. Alveda King!

2008-02-21T13:12:00.003-06:00

While vast numbers of liberal and centrist Americans are in the process of canonizing Barack Obama for political sainthood, I continue to shake my head in dismay. In moments of exasperation, I wonder why there is not more of an outcry with respect to Obama's unfettered pro-abortion stance. Despite the reality that respect-for-life is the central focus of the American Catholic Church's social justice agenda, we have heard little in the way of protest where Obama is concerned. Where are our Catholic leaders' voices in this matter? What, if anything, are they afraid of?

Enter Dr. Alveda King. The niece of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., she is vocal in her criticism of Obama. Obama's asserted that a “quiet riot” is building among black people "from New Orleans and the Gulf Coast" [out of frustration for the displacement and perceived lack of assistance after hurricane Katrina]. Dr. Alveda King minced no words in her response,

“Senator Obama may know of the ‘quiet riots’ coming from the black community but he doesn’t understand their source...The cries of those children, their mothers, and their families are what Senator Obama is hearing...I invite him to listen to those cries more clearly and compassionately. I pray he will realize that hopelessness and despair are only deepened by aborting those who are the future.”

Finally. It is heartening to hear of a notable public figure bearing clear witness to her Catholic faith. Furthermore, it's refreshing that she, an African American of prominence and distinction, is willing to shine light on the tragedy that indeed, surpasses Katrina.

"Over 500,000 babies were aborted in 2006 in the African American community – a number of unborn lives that could have populated a whole city"-- Pastor Luke J. Robinson.

At a recent pro-life march in San Francisco, Dr. King made a salient, pointed observation,

If the dream of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is to live, our babies must live. Our mothers must choose life...The greatest injustice we face is the denial of the right to life. Without life, no other rights exist...

God bless this woman of courage and conviction. I can only imagine that she has encountered criticism for a perceived break of ranks, so to speak.

I'm thoroughly impressed and inspired.

Cabin Fever-- Suburban Style

2008-02-19T21:23:00.014-06:00

The four seasons in my neck of the woods are:

Pre-Winter
Almost Winter
Winter
Home Improvement Season

To one degree or another, most everyone I know has cabin fever. When so much time is spent indoors, the walls seem to literally close in on you. Mild household irritations evolve into tortuous demons. Every closet, drawer, and cabinet seems unbearably messy. Paint dings, molding cracks, and wall smudges glare at me like menacing creatures from The Spiderwick Chronicles. Mocking my winter blahs, taunting me to engage in home repair battle. I'm compelled to redecorate every room--change the paint, rugs, furniture, artwork, window treatments. Rip this out, add something else. Call the carpenter, the painter, the plumber, the electrician, the interior designer... and anyone else who can possibly contribute to an extreme makeover.

Of my four-year old home.

Maybe the only service professional I truly need is a S-H-R-I-N-K.

At least I'm in good company. Several of my neighbors have conscripted their husbands to home repair duty every weekend until June. Another friend confessed she is going to remove and hand wash all window blinds in every room of her home. Wiping them down while still hanging is not at all sufficient. Upon completion of this momentous achievement, she will then proceed to hand scour every piece of base board on all three levels of her spacious abode.

I stood in awe. I'm not worthy. And then it dawned on me. Just yesterday, I singlehandedly eliminated all of the crud build-up from the tops of each and every tube of toothpaste in the house! And how could I forget that I used a Sonicare to clean the mystery goo in the crevices of every household faucet? We're talking kitchen, wet bar, bathrooms, and laundry room. Not bad. There is hope. But I have to face facts. I'm still not in her league.

Not yet anyway.

She kicked my compulsion into high gear. Much like an alcoholic triggered by a frosty, cold pint in a beer ad.....Break out the design books, blueprints, floor plans! Revisit all Martha Stuart publication archives. Brave the tundra to obtain a bevy of cleaning supplies, tools, sprays, candles, organizing bins, pillows, linens, picture frames. Fabric swatches, tassles, beads, and frindge. Potpourri, tart burners, scented oils, fragrance rings. Swiffer, Dirt Devil, Roomba, and Scoomba. A complete arsenal for the home spruce-up offensive. Not unlike Jack Nicholson's possessed rage as he chopped down the doorway in "The Shining". I'll be equally unhinged as I bash-in the door to my bedroom closet, armed not with an ax, but with a vacuum nozzle and a bottle of Fabreeze.

Heeere's mommy!

all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away all work and no play gets mom locked away

Check on me when the ice thaws.

The house will be pristine. My electro shock therapy will have kicked in.

Hopefully.

Happy Valentine's Day!

2008-02-14T13:29:00.002-06:00

How 'bout them apples?

Bye Bye Gussy Gus...

2008-02-13T22:30:00.009-06:00

Ethan discovered that his six-year old pet guinea pig "Gus" died today. My son was beyond consolation. And because of this, I was beyond consolation. In a small but significant way, Ethan learned his first lesson about loss. And about my inability to spare him from certain sadnesses.

Before we handed the yellow shoebox "casket" to the technician at the vet's office, my son said,

"You were a great friend Gussy. All the children loved you. I loved you. Sometimes I took a long time to feed you or give you water or clean your cage all perfect. You never really got that mad. You were a good friend for lots and lots of years. All the children will be really sad tomorrow when I tell them you are gone. I really, really love you and I'm sorry that I don't get to tell you that on Valentine's Day. I'm going to miss you. You were my buddy".

click on photos to enlarge

Rest peacefully sweet creature.

Rise and Shine

2008-02-13T09:13:00.004-06:00

Click here to check out our balmy

morning school day routine!

Obama--Still Waiting...

2008-02-12T22:38:00.016-06:00

Several weeks ago, I challenged someone, anyone, to name a single, substantive accomplishment of Barack Obama's. I'm talking about tangible, legislative achievement while he has held political office. His penchant to wax poetic, befriend celebrities, and give great speeches does not constitute proof of presidential acumen. You gotta think that someone, somewhere, will pony-up one credible achievement.

So, I'll wait. Some more...

While the vigil continues, I thought I would share the highlights of a recent Obama supporter gathering, where several minions were asked to name ONE accomplishment which demonstrated Obama's readiness to become president. (This, by the way, is not an exact transcript. I'm relying on memory here. A word or two may be off but the substance is accurate.)

Interviewer: Hey, can you name an accomplishment of Mr. Obama's?
Devotee #1: Uhhhhh...He's a great speaker!

Interviewer: What about you? What do you think Barack Obama has done that qualifies him for the presidency?
Devotee#2: Well, he's the only black man in the U.S. Senate.

Interviewer: And you...what do you have to say? What Barack accomplishment has especially wowed you?
Devotee #3: Uhhhh...I'll take a pass.

Interviewer: C'mon...you've got one!
Devotee #4: Well...He just won a Grammy!

On an on it went. And this was among Obama supporters. Not a single, wide-eyed, fresh-faced sole could muster one achievement in keeping with presidential readiness.

Scary.

And we may very well find ourselves calling him Mr. President in less than a year.

Mommy caveat: This is a rhetorical exercise for me. Obama's positions on abortion and national security eliminate my vote, despite anything that he has or has not done. But I just think a little intellectual honesty is on order here. Eliminating celebrity, packaging, delivery, and image...

What has he done?

Prayers For Victims, Their Families, and Friends

2008-02-09T11:43:00.000-06:00

One of the Lane Bryant shooting victims, Sarah Szafranski, 22, was well known to our dear friend M. Sarah lived in M's community and was a babysitter to M's children in years past. Sarah was also a graduate of the Catholic grammar school that M's children now attend. She was buried yesterday.

Sarah is pictured in the middle. She was a recent college graduate.

Needless to say, the close-knit community of Oak Forest, Illinois is devastated. And bewildered at this senseless, horrific crime. The perpetrator is still at large.

To M, B, and the kids...we're here for you!

Please keep Sarah and the other victims, their families, and friends in your prayers.

Cultivating Faith

2008-02-06T14:41:00.000-06:00

Photos taken at home-- today.

Lent is here. For us, Ash Wednesday arrives in the heart of winter, when Midwestern skies hide the sun for weeks at a time.

Each winter, I'm convinced that every single perennial, shrub, and tree in my yard will surely die. How can any living thing re-emerge from this brutal, unrelenting exposure? All of that fertilizing, pruning, and mulching--well, it just won't be enough to sustain our beloved flora. Yes, the plants made it though last year's snow, wind, and ice, but the current winter always seems more menacing than that of the previous year.

I mentally bid a sad farewell to the tree-form hydrangeas, black-eyed susans, lilacs, gardenias, and star gazers. Surely this will be the year that my cherished "knockout" rose bushes succumb.

Of course, my imagined botanical calamity never comes to pass.

In a few, short months all of these beautiful, hand chosen plants will bloom in full glory. And every Spring, I stand in awe of this miraculous renewal. All that was bleak becomes glorious--and stronger, weightier. More resilient to face the inevitable winters to come.

Not at all unlike our own potential for renewal.

Blessings to all of you as we refresh mind, body, and soul this Lenten season.

Time to Celebrate!

2008-02-06T09:07:00.001-06:00

Great news...

Grandpa Dave (my Dad) is certifiably CANCER FREE!

How's that for a Lenten opener?
Amen!

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

2008-02-04T23:46:00.000-06:00

As I turned to leave the room after tucking Kindergarten boy into bed tonight, he sat up, signaled a Hawaiian "hang loose" gesture, and offered this charming, bed time send off:

Rock on freaky fro!!

Would someone like to tell me why my five-year old boy is channeling Jeff Spicoli?

I informed Mr. Little Man that "freaky" is not a description to which most moms aspire. Luckily, I made it out of the room before I lost it. I laughed so hard I cried. Or did I cry so hard I laughed?

Passing It On...

2008-02-04T21:58:00.000-06:00

Thanks to mum6kids, author of

Thinking Love, No Twaddle

Time to pay it forward...I'm a little late in the game, admittedly.

If you receive this award from me, find ten other blogs that meet your criteria for excellence and present accordingly.

Here are my various criteria for the rated "E" award (awarded blogs meet one or more of the following):

inspirational
artful presentation, writing, and/or style )
informative
solid composition (unintentional, poor grammar is a pet peeve)
creative
creates literary envy in me
multi-dimensional
humorous, ironic
full-of-heart

(1) Et Tu? The Diary of a Former Atheist
Powerful. She is a skillful, poised writer who conveys immense wisdom and inspiration. Her graphics and artwork are captivating. What else can I say? Run, don't walk. Wow.

(2) Ask Sister Mary Martha
She has brought me to tears (of laughter) with her glib retorts and tell-it-like-is advice for the hoards and masses. There is significant debate in the blogging world as to whether she truly is a nun. I'm going to suspend disbelief here and go with the "she is" camp. It just makes me so happy to think so. Whomever or whatever she is, or is not, Sister Mary Martha is not to be missed.

(3) Middle-Aged, Not Muddle-Headed
No nonsense, joyful ruminations that just make me smile.

(4) M.O.M.S. Mothers of Many Saints
Hope was born to write. And inspire. If she's not published somewhere, it's a shame. Her post about mothers' focus on the image of a loving home humbled me. And made me re-examine my own m.o..

(5) Ten Reasons The Observations of a Seditious Catechist
All things Catholic from a father's vantage point. Rich is literary and uber-poised in his delivery. It's erudite prose for sure, so don't expect any fluff. It's impossible to leave his site and not feel educated.

(6) "And Miles Go Go Before We Sleep..."
Very good blog but I have to tell you, she gets my props for the header photo alone! Beautiful! Lovely imagery which perfectly embodies the spirit of her blog.

(7) The Mac & Cheese Chronicles
Great presentation, imagery, and content. Inspiring in her ability to work through grief and loss.

(8) Zany Life & Crazy Faith
Talk about rising from the ashes! Gives the hope to us early middle agers that there is a lot more on the horizon --if you make it happen. Makes this mommy re-evaluate the glass-half-empty perspective!

(9) Laura The Crazy Mama
No pretense--all heart! Great blog without the hoopla. The bells and whistles aren't necessary if your content is strong. Self-effacing, funny, and to-the-point.

(10) The Ironic Catholic
Lots of chuckles, good natured snark, and a touch of highbrow cynicism. The author is clearly faithful and committed so no worries about offensive or disrespectful content. Poking-fun-at-ourselves commentary without rancor.

Lent Is Almost Here!

2008-02-01T13:09:00.002-06:00

If suffering is the objective, we've certainly got that covered with these Lenten staples:

Oh well. So be it. I love Lent, actually. Guilt, suffering, and penance are wonderful filters for a dusty soul. The ultimate in spiritual spring cleaning. When Easter arrives, you feel cleansed and in your best form. Deprivation also gives scale to the bounty and abundance in our lives. You just appreciate things more. Even manufactured fish rectangles. Yum yum.

So start figuring out which form of deprivation makes you the most miserable, and come next Wednesday, start suffering. And don't look for Lent loopholes in order to take a break from your misery. Buck up and deal. You'll live.

More on Lent next week. Have a great weekend!

Voting: A Vocation and a Duty

2008-01-31T11:18:00.000-06:00

How many times have you heard a politician recite the following?:

"I'm personally opposed to abortion but...I support the law of the land as affirmed by Roe V. Wade."

To this I respond: Sorry. That dog won't hunt. Not any more.

Our elected officials no longer get it both ways. The pro-life position requires proponents to bear witness through action and results. It means using talent and power to protect human beings in all stages of life. Womb to the tomb. A true pro-life stance is not championed by a tepid, conditional declaration and a tacit acceptance of the status quo. Take, for instance, Rudolph Giuliani's flimsy, non-committal position:

"...in a country like ours, where people of good faith, people who are equally decent, equally moral, and equally religious, where they come to different conclusions about this, ... I believe you have to respect their viewpoint. ... I would grant women the right to make that choice (to have an abortion.)"-- Fox News interview

Skillful verbiage, to be sure. The success of moral relativism always depends on a masterful delivery. But how is it that so many fellow Catholics fall for this centrist wish-wash? And are our clergy holding Giuliani and other Catholic leaders (such as Ted Kennedy and Nancy Pelosi) responsible for these shameful, do-nothing positions?

As for our part...We, the laity, have a responsibility to battle sin. One of the most effective ways to do this is by voting in alignment with the doctrine of our Church. If the candidate is not absolutely pro-life, then we must withhold our vote. Even if said candidate is "the lesser of two evils". Even if they hold admirable positions on other, key issues. What's more, we must vote for the pro-life candidate whenever the opportunity presents itself. We can learn much from Evangelical Christians in this regard. Their voting power is united, consistent, and powerful. Father John Corapi, a respected and nationally recognized speaker weighs in with this:

"Catholics today in the United States represent the single largest religious voting block in the country, yet we have had relatively little effect in recent years. The reason is that an enormous number of Catholics are not faithful to their lay state in life."

In this time of political discernment and potential change, we are called to witness our faith and to give voices to those who have none. If we, a faith community, are not willing to protect the very young, the very old, and the infirmed, why bother concerning ourselves with border control, national security, education, the economy or even the environment? Why are so many Catholics, of all people, standing mute, while human beings, the presumed beneficiaries of government and politics, are willfully destroyed? Father Corapi makes a salient point about the untapped power, the sheer opportunity within our grasp:

"Abortion...could never exist in this once great country if the Catholic lay faithful were witnessing their faith powerfully and without compromise."

Let these words be our guide in the upcoming primary elections and all others to follow.

The Party Is Over. Isn't It?

2008-01-29T21:41:00.000-06:00

My 5-year old received this in the mail today:

Playing games? Eating brownies? You don't have to ask him twice!

I have to give this little boy's mother themommymemoir All Heart-No Pretense Award. How wonderful to just let this be what it is--a kid's birthday party... When I witness this type of simple, in-the-moment parenting, I feel humbled. And inspired.

By the way, don't you wish that adult parties had an end-time? No awkward clanking-of-dishes or the "gee, I sure do have a lot going on this week" declaration in order to mozy your mirth-makers toward the front door. No wondering if you've overstayed your welcome or, conversely, if you have offended the host by leaving prematurely. There's none of that social guesswork at kids' parties. It's all stipulated from the get-go.

For my husband, there is never such a quandary. For him, it's party 'till the break 'o dawn or his wife's break down, whichever comes first...This is not to say that I don't enjoy parties--I do. Really. But I get my fill and then, well, I'm wondering what's on the Drudge Report. Or what books are on my nightstand. Or just how far I can extend Pi.

Jim just shakes his head in resignation. In his world, the merriment continues as long as even one hang-dog soul remains in an upright position. And do not get me started on his family's goodbye ritual. Suffice it to say, I've learned after thirteen years of marriage that if I want to leave, I need to give him a head's up at least one hour out. In fact, my husband's (and most of my in-law's) rite-of-goodbye often rivals the duration and festivity of the party itself. God love these talk-crazy people.

I love 'em too, actually. A lot.

And as far as a party-end time... I know it's never going to happen...I guess it really is a social convention for the less-than-four-feet crowd. In the meantime, I've always got Pi.

P.S. So far, I've made it to 3.14159265

A Keeper

2008-01-28T20:52:00.000-06:00

Found this post-it note on my computer today...

Totally unsolicited--complements of my little Kindergarten man. In the words of his favorite fictional heroine--Junie B. Jones, "Wowie, wow, wow".

On "E" Tonight

2008-01-27T23:45:00.000-06:00

It was a long weekend capping off an equally long week. Time to start over tomorrow. I feel a little war torn after a night of defending my faith and my Church to a family member who is utterly disenchanted with Catholicism. It always saddens me when the Church sustains yet another casualty as a result of the priest/pedophile nightmare. It's doubly upsetting when the casualty is someone known to me. I understand her frustration when she says cannot bear the thought of one dime of her tithe being appropriated to suit settlements associated with the scandal. I've often thought the very same thing.

Just over six years ago, my RCIA instructor imparted a thought that has helped me through my moments of doubt where the Church is concerned. She said that we must think of our Church as a family. A very good, kind, loving family. But an imperfect one. And simply because a family has problems does not mean that you up and leave. You stay, you work it out, you make it better. You do the best you can. Because ultimately, no person or thing can ever replace your family.

In the meantime, this convert, this mommy, this wife, needs some sleep. Badly. More thoughts on this later.

Hey Chippy!

2008-01-24T16:28:00.000-06:00

Chippy Gillespie?

My three-year old JoJo has decided that the mommy's new name is Chippy. Recent example:

Mommy: Hurry! We're late. Get your shoes on now!
JoJo: OK mommy, in a minute...
Mommy: No, now! Let's get a move on.
JoJo: OOOOOHKAAAYYYY CHIPPY!!!!!

Fish and chippy?

?

I should correct her but I have a hard time keeping a straight face when she says it. Where she got this? Absolutely no idea.

That Number We Don't Like

2008-01-24T16:15:00.000-06:00

You know---the number. And it's not 777. It's the number before 7 and after 5. Three of them in a row. That's as much as you're going to get me to type. I can't help it. I'm spooky like that.

I'll just cut-and-paste this chart so that I don't have to type that number. Take a look. It's awfully funny, even if the author is toying with disaster, scoffing at the dark side's company logo. Said author, by the way, is unknown.

A Fun Collection of Beastly Numbers

Click to enlarge

Over-The-Top You Say?

2008-01-24T00:02:00.000-06:00

For those of you who think this mommy is just a wee over zealous in her religious convictions... I've got a reality check for you. And yes, I do think the Catholic quips are funny.

YOU KNOW YOU'RE BECOMING TOO FUNDAMENTAL WHEN...

* You think Jesus is too liberal.
* You enjoy talking to people in King James English.
* You have your application in for the Trinity.
* You are building your own pulpit for your living room.
* You think hair tonic is Biblical.
* You believe Moses could have shaved.
* You thought Naked Gun was a Clint Eastwood movie.
* You built your own ark model.
* You pointed out all the errors in Jurassic Park according to Genesis.
* You think Monopoly teaches greed.
* You support Hare Krishna's in the airport because it means your denomination can have a booth across the hall.
* You think Mormons are mistaken but they sure do dress nice.
* You think genuflect is a type of mirror.
* You wish you could preach like Louis Farrakhan.
* You can prove that unscrambling "Santa" is "Satan."
* You know that Jesus was born in April but probably would have liked a tree anyway.
* You exchange any currency that has three 6's in a row.
* You think credit cards are a tool of the devil to identify you to the Anti-Christ.
* You think that bar codes are demonic.
* You enjoy Wal Mart.
* You take National Geographic and draw bikinis on all the naked people.
* You think People Magazine is pornography.
* You found back masking on Amy Grant's albums that chant.
* You think that Gregorian Chants are a tool of the devil
* You think laughter is a tool of the devil.
* You think that tools are tools of the devil.
* you think that tools are devils.
* You think the J. C. Penny catalog is pretty snappy.
* You think Victoria's Secret is an Illuminati conspiracy.
* You know the writing on the statue of liberty's tablet was put there by a Mason.
* You have a chart of the hidden symbols of the dollar bill.
* You thought Jerry Falwell was liberal.
* You think Mother Theresa was stocking away all her money and getting away on wild weekends at Cannes.
* You say "Darn."
* You have all of your radio buttons tuned into religious stations.
* You enjoy Muzak.
* Your idea of a hot weekend is to attend an anti-Catholic seminar.
* If you've ever helped in a baptism and you thought they should stay under water longer.
* You won't wear a robe even in the bathroom.
* You won't wear colored underwear.
* You think the guy with the hair and John 3:16 sign at golf tournaments is liberal.
* You think Deviled ham is a conspiracy of the Illumnati.
* You think Bingo was a pretty good game until the Catholics took it over.
* You think Charlton Heston was great in the Ten Commandments. . .but you repent of watching it because movies are a tool of the devil.
* You say Amen more than once an hour.
* You pray so long your food gets cold.
* You think doctors are a tool of the devil.
* You think teachers are a tool of the devil.
* You think science is a tool of the devil.
* You think Burt Reynolds was great in Smoky and the Bandit. . . but you repent of watching it because movies are a tool of the devil.
* You have a fish on the back of your car, your boat, your bicycle and your briefcase.
* You become an Amway dealer to evangelize in disguise.
* You like being an Amway dealer.
* You think A.A. is liberal.
* You have your name stamped on all your Bibles.
* You have more than 10 Bibles.
* You think that Catholics actually pray to little plaster statues.
* You think Notre Dame football team are all secretly Jesuit priests in an Illuminati conspiracy.
* You think Amy Grant is a tool of the devil.
* You think underneath the Pope's skull cap is the mark of the beast.
* You have evidence "They" are rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem.
* You name your children after the apostles.
* You name your child Ichabod, Shalmaneser, Jeremiah or Ezekiel.
* You have a Bible Cover that looks like a doily.
* You won't own a credit card because "they" might use to give you a "mark of the beast."
* You rail against Catholics for statues but wear a cross around your own neck.
* You always bring bean casserole to a church pot-luck.

--author unknown.