Do you believe in miracles?

June 25, 2009 at 1:02 pm (Uncategorized)

How lovely to read about a miracle… What a nice change from the rest of it.


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Food for thought: priests and celibacy, take 8,765,433

June 23, 2009 at 2:11 am (Uncategorized)

Here ya go…

That ought to give you something to chew on…

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Thou shalt not…

June 20, 2009 at 3:38 am (Uncategorized)

There’s a story brewing here in the Cream City (heh) about our police chief having an affair with a journalist who did a story on him.
And you know what I can’t figure out? Why is it any of our business? Honestly, tell me, why on earth should I care who is sleeping with whom, other than trying to keep the dog we’re puppy-sitting out of my four-year-old’s room, when said four-year-old refuses to have the door shut?
So yeah, I’m going to be skipping that article in tomorrow’s paper…

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Deo gratias

June 18, 2009 at 2:20 am (Uncategorized)

There’s a song Riley learned at kindergarten.  I’ll teach it to you.  “Friends, friends, friends.  Thank you God for friends.  Food, food, food.  Thank you God for food.  Family, family, family.  Thank you God for family.”  The tune is do mi so, so fa mi re do.

I’d like to add a verse.  It doesn’t scan very well, but luckily I have it on good authority that the Lord is kind and merciful, so:  “Chocolate chip cookies, chocolate chip cookies, chocolate chip cookies.  Thank you God for chocolate chip cookies.”

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To sleep, perchance to dream…

June 17, 2009 at 3:35 am (Uncategorized)

As all parents of young children know, there are myriad, perhaps infinite, bedtime-delaying tactics. “I need a drink of water,”  followed shortly by “I have to pee,” which in turn precedes, “The flush is too loud – will you do it?”

These pre-sleep rituals are not always plumbing related of course.  “I’m worried about a tornado.” (See previous post.) “I’m lonely.” “I’m not YAWN tired.”  “One more book/kiss/hug/cuddle.”  “The door isn’t open wide enough – is it touching the wall?  It should be touching the wall.”

Many of these requests can be dealt with quite quickly, but currently, Henry’s complaint, regular as Old Faithful, is “I don’t want to die.”  Uttered very solemnly, with his preternaturally large brown eyes welling up with tears, this one doesn’t get brushed aside.  My husband tried very manfully to shoulder the blame for Henry’s sudden realization of his own mortality…he and Henry were reading the comic book encyclopedia and evidently The Flash dies?  But much as I’d LIKE to blame my husband, I can’t.  I’m pretty sure this is developmental.  I can VIVIDLY remember being in our house in Topeka, which makes me six-ish, I suppose, in our bathtub, which had these blue-y purple velvet drapes with gold chains to tie them back.  (I thought that they were just the be-all, end-all of glamour…so glamorous I have to add the “u”).  Anyway.  I would pull the curtains closed and lie there in the dark, thinking about the fact that someday I would be dead.  The world in fact would go on without me in it.

It was terrifying.

So no, I don’t take Henry’s fears about death lightly.  But what can you say?  Everything that lives, dies, true, but it’s not much comfort to a kindergartner.  So we talk about how he won’t die until he’s very, very old, maybe 116 (please, Jesus, pretty please).  How heaven is supposed to be even nicer than Earth.  How we’ll meet God there.  Henry thinks that’s pretty cool.  He wants to ask God how He did it, how He made the Earth and the sun and the stars and the universe.

So we talk about it for a while until he gets calmed down and then Henry trots back up the stairs to bed, the fleshy balls of his feet, seemingly the only part of his body that has any babyfat anymore, making a deeply satisfying “thwack, thwack, thwack” up the wooden stairs.

And I think to myself, I don’t really need to know how God made us, and I even think in moments like this that I might have an inkling of “why.”  And I say, “thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.”

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Protect us from all anxiety…

June 3, 2009 at 3:29 am (Uncategorized)

This parenting thing is FRAUGHT with pitfalls, I tell you. My six-year-old is having a lot of “scary thoughts” lately. She’s worried about tornados, hurricanes, fires, volcanos, and earthquakes, among other natural disasters. (She was terrified to learn that we had a layover in Kansas on the way to LA…”but there are TORNADOS in Kansas!!!!” Of course my contrary nature wanted to say, “well, what about the earthquakes, wildfires, and mudslides in LA?” Luckily, I refrained.)
Her fears strike at any time, but are the worst at night right before bed, of course. She’s a wreck, poor thing.
We visited the pediatrician this morning for our four-year-old’s annual check-up, and I suggested that we ask Dr. Sarah if she had any thoughts about Riley’s anxieties. “Oooh, GOOD idea, Mommy!” Splendid Dr. Sarah indeed had some terrific suggestions: 1) make sure that Riley knows what to do in the event of an emergency. We did a dry run of a 911 phone call this evening. It was a great exercise, except for the weeping mother. “Good ACTING, Mommy!” 2) have Riley keep a journal. On one page she can write, or draw a picture of her fear. On the facing page, she can draw a hope. So this evening, she drew a picture of a tornado (with a sad face next to it) and opposite that a picture of her outside playing in the sunshine (happy face!) 3) Sarah’s last suggestion was one that she uses with her own son. Before bed, say a prayer to your guardian angel. Fantastic, and totally in the “but why didn’t I think of that?” category…A quick google on my iPhone turned up a plethora of options, so as I tucked Riley into bed, we said this prayer together:

Angel of God, my Guardian dear,
To whom God’s love commits me here,
Ever this night be at my side
To light and guard, to rule and guide.


Yup, parenting is TOTALLY fraught with pitfalls. Luckily, I feel like I’ve got a couple of aces in the hole. One is our spectacular pediatrician. The other is, well, you know. Sweet dreams, girlie.

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Something to ponder…

June 2, 2009 at 3:11 am (Uncategorized)

We’re just back from a trip to California, and I’m ready to get back into this little blog…once I catch up on sleep…

I’m trying to brew up a post about this tremendously thought-provoking article, but in the meantime, I’ll just leave this link:

Is it wrong to murder an abortionist? by William Saletan

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