Martha, Martha, Martha

Ever since this past weekend, I've been thinking about Martha. On Saturday morning's retreat, our deacon/retreat director/fellow Secular Franciscan asked us to consider the "Mary and Martha" story, since St. Martha's feast is this week. An interesting discussion resulted. Our wise-beyond-her-91-years senior member, whose name actually IS Martha, reminded everyone that while Jesus criticized Martha in that famous story, Martha was the one who showed so much faith and trust when she approached Jesus after her brother died.

That led me to think about Jesus' criticism of Martha. Read the story carefully. Many times people assume that this story meant that everyone should just drop everything they're doing and sit down at the feet of Jesus. That's pretty unrealistic, and that's not what Jesus told Martha to do. The problem he had with Martha was not with the fact that she was doing the kitchen work. He was an honored guest, a good friend, and someone had to get dinner on the table! Jesus didn't criticize Martha for cooking instead of visiting. Instead, his words were, "You are anxious about many things."

It wasn't a problem that Martha was cooking for her guests. The problem was that she was stressing out about it.

I sure can relate to that.  My whole family has been subjected to my "white tornado moments" when I panic about having the house clean or the meal cooked before we have guests or (even worse) a big party.  I'm not pleasant to be around, that's for sure.

So today I will try to listen to the words of Jesus and be a little less anxious.  Anxiety, after all, cancels out hospitality.

Mary, her sister, might have chosen "the better part," but Martha's the one who ultimately became a saint. Go figure.

Saint Martha, pray for us that we might serve Jesus better. Help us to overcome our distractions and worries to listen to his words and be present to him this day.

Neat and Tidy

Here's my MESSY desk as it usually looks!

My desk is always a mess. I think what I really need is one of those desks the size of a twin bed; failing that, one with a hutch on top of it that reaches about as high as I can without leaving my chair. I'm a visual person, so I like the stuff I need to be on top of the desk and easily at hand.

Since I don't have my desk in a room where I can shut the door and hide the mess, but rather in the family room, right by the front door, where anyone who walks in can see just how cluttered my desk can be, I knew that I had to do something about it.  But there's just nowhere to put all the things I like to keep within easy reach.

So I started hunting around for a desktop organizer that would leave me enough room for my laptop, iPod speakers, planner and coffee cup.   And I found this cool organizer at CSN Stores:  the Safco Products Three-Way Radius Front Corner Organizer.  You can set this organizer three different ways on your desk, depending on the space you want to create.  Assembly was required, but it took only about 15 minutes and required NO tools:  the whole thing is put together with glue-coated pegs that needed only water to activate.  (I did find a rubber mallet useful to get the larger sides inserted all the way.)

Nice and neat!

This desk organizer has space for everything!  I tried it all three ways before I decided on the way it fits my desk best, and if I ever move this desk to a different space, I can adjust the orientation of the organizer to fit that location.  There's room to keep all those little things like Post-it pads and iPod cords, and a flat surface on top where I keep my phone when it's charging, a little jar of candy, my mug of small change, and the cup of chore sticks, which deserve a post of their own.

I've got a neat desk now, and it's pretty easy to keep it that way!

Full disclosure: I was provided with a credit to CSN Stores and chose this product for my review. I was not compensated for the review in any other fashion other than the free product.

I Have Been to Church

Tonight was our "away game" for the folk group. Once a month, we play at the 5:00 Mass at our parish's other Worship Site.

I found out during the morning retreat I attended that this weekend's Gospel was the Lord's Prayer. Our folk group loves the Lord's Prayer. We used to sing it every Sunday during Mass. It was kind of a signature of the group. It's a peppy arrangement and we'd sing it with gusto, matched with similar enthusiasm from the congregation.

Our current pastor is not a fan of the sung Lord's Prayer, at least not the way we sing it. For him, it's chant during certain seasons or just recite it. Chant really doesn't mix well with our particular blend of instruments (guitars, bass, mandolin, the occasional harmonica or didgeridoo when Big Brother is so moved) but we'll do that when we have to. We were all sad when Father pulled the plug on our favorite arrangement of the Lord's Prayer. We're not allowed to sing it during Mass. Period. No reason given.

People protested to us about it and we told them to ask Father. It wasn't our choice but we are doing as we're told.

Anyway, we're also required to sing a Prelude and Father wants that to be peppy. So we came up with the idea of pitching the Prelude song we'd practiced for tonight and putting in the Lord's Prayer. None of us have taken it out of our music binders--hope springs eternal.

We sang it for Prelude. The congregation at this Worship Site (I hate that term!) wasn't familiar with it, but we were beyond happy to be singing it and did so with our usual gusto. The Prelude is not a song where assembly participation is expected anyway.

After the song was over, we had a few moments' breather before beginning the entrance procession. But at that point, the rest of the songs were an afterthought to me. I had BEEN TO CHURCH.

Never underestimate the power of music to move someone's soul.

Multitasking FAIL

In the interest of keeping to an absolute minimum the time the oven would be turned on, I got started on a baking session this evening. I needed a batch of blueberry muffins for tomorrow morning's Secular Franciscan retreat, and I also wanted to make a pan of brownies for Middle Sister. She's leaving for a week at the beach with a friend's family, and I thought it would be nice if she brought along a little treat to share.

So I got out my two big batter bowls and got started on the ingredients. Right off the bat I made my first mistake by putting the wet ingredients for the muffins in the big batter bowl (dry's supposed to go in there first!) But I figured I could make it work. And then I took the Hershey's syrup out of the fridge--it's the secret ingredient in my box-mix brownies. I poured a generous shot of syrup into the wrong batter bowl: the one meant for the blueberry muffins.

I'd finished off the carton of eggs in the kitchen, so I went to our spare fridge and retrieved the carton I had out there. Note to self: that was the last of the eggs. After dumping out the ruined batter, I went to crack an egg and discovered that those eggs were frozen.

My kind neighbor talked me down from the ledge, handed me two eggs to borrow, and told me that while she completely understood my reasons for attempting to bake two things at once, I shouldn't try it again this evening. Gratefully, I accepted the eggs and the advice.

There are things that just require your full attention. Fortunately, tonight, all that was lost was a couple of eggs, some milk and some vegetable oil. But multitasking can have its price. Just ask a parent who has lost a teenage child who texted while driving.

And what about the spiritual cost? Our attention is divided enough these days. I know that when I'm trying to pray, I struggle with intruding thoughts of shopping lists, chore charts, and what I'll be making for dinner tonight. Multitasking in other areas will only make us less and less able to lend our full attention to what really matters.

It beats Bakugan.

Except for the commercials.

Ever since vuvuzela World Cup Soccer has been on TV, Little Brother has been hooked on ESPN. Each morning he wanders downstairs and turns on Sportscenter. Then I have to listen to Mr. Sports Encyclopedia (otherwise known as Little Brother) spout statistics about sports in which I have zero interest while I make his cinnamon toast.

The end of men's World Cup Soccer did not spell the end of Sportscenter around here. He loves that show. He'll sit under his Snuggie and watch it for hours, then run outside and kick his soccer ball around the yard. Once it gets really hot, he finishes up with a jump in the pool.

Sounds like a perfect summer--and it sure beats the Bakugan cartoons he wanted to watch every morning during the school year. But the advertising on Sportscenter is not geared toward your average eight-year-old. At eight-thirty in the morning one day, I nearly dropped a full basket of laundry when I heard a male voice bragging, "And my libido has never been better!"

I do not want to have to answer the inevitable question, "What's a libido?" after Little Brother hears that!

No, I don't know what product was being advertised. I didn't stick around to find out. But I'm sure that if Little Brother ever sees it in the CVS, he'll be the first one to loudly tell everyone what this product can do for someone's libido. Even though he doesn't know what that means.

Tweety Bird and Jesus

This morning I opened up my email and found yet another "forward" from an acquaintance of mine. She has my email address because we both belong to the same organization, but I rarely get any email from her related to that. However, a few days a week she sends me a "forward."

In general, I'm not a big fan of "forwards." They're like the chain letters of the Internet world. I've been told in "forwards" that if I don't forward them to nine people, I don't love Jesus. Other times I've learned that deleting this "forward" means I'm not patriotic.

The email I received this morning opened up with a cute picture of Tweety Bird and then the telltale all-caps, 3-different-font, brightly-colored text. (At least this time the sender cared enough to delete the email address that had sent it to her and to address it to a BCC list!) The email described an encounter with Jesus, as if he had come into the room with the sender, and then informed me that He was being sent to my house. I should not allow Him to sleep there, I was told, but instead I should send Him on to other people.

I just don't have patience for these things. Even though the sentiment is nice, I don't feel like there's a personal connection when one of these is passed along. And while I might have my reasons for being a little cranky this morning, which may make my reaction to this email a little over the top, it was a long time coming. I've used the internet long enough that I've seen (over and over again) most of the "forwards" that are going around.

My love for God, my country, and my family and friends has nothing to do with whether I forward an email. And I think the inspiration in the story about Jesus was more than a little diluted by the Tweety-bird opener.

It Ain't Over

...till it's over.

This morning I'm heading to the hospital for an outpatient procedure to drain a large cyst that has developed on (or near) my left ovary. Apparently it's the size of a softball.

The doctor hopes that one it's drained it will be done and I won't have to worry about it anymore. There will be ultrasound followups periodically, and if the cyst returns I will have to have it surgically removed.

This all should be easy, but prayers will be appreciated!

UPDATE: Thank you! 1/2 liter of fluid (that's a water bottle, folks) has been removed. I can no longer feel a lump in my abdomen. I'm sleepy, but definitely happy to be home and grateful for the prayers and my comfy couch.

Free Amazon Prime for Students

I found out tonight that Amazon.com is offering a free year of Amazon Prime for college students! Big Brother will definitely be signing up for this.

You can't miss with this deal.  Pass the info along to any students you know.

A Snuggie for All Seasons

Whoever thought that Snuggies were just for winter use has never met Little Brother.

It's nice to have air conditioning, especially with the weather this hot. But the family room (on the lower level of the house) gets pretty chilly when the air's on. If we turn it down, it's too toasty in the bedrooms upstairs.

So Little Brother has come in from the pool, dried off, and refuses to put on a shirt. Instead, he's wrapped his chilly self in his Snuggie and is happily sitting on the floor with a big bag of grapes.

He's making quite the fashion statement with his Snuggie and his "goggle tan."

Keeping an Eye on Things

With the pool in the yard up, running and, as predicted, attracting all the neighborhood kids (as well as some who live outside our zip code), I am in full Multitasking Mom mode. That means that in addition to being Kool-Aid Mom, Towel Mom (but only for people who live here), Snack Mom, and Referee Mom, I'm also Lifeguard Mom.

As I'm not much of a swimmer, that takes some doing.

It's not too hard when Little Brother and his friends are in the pool, since it's always daylight then. But in the after-dark hours when Middle Sister has friends over, things get a little more complicated.

I'm not sure that the outdoor lighting we have is going to do the job. We've got one little bulb on the back porch that barely lights up the porch, and one floodlight that's great for the fire pit area (though with this hot, dry weather we've banned fires for the time being, much to the Boy Scouts' chagrin.) I'd love to hang about ten of these around the perimeter of the back porch, so no matter where in the yard (or pool) the kids hang out, it would be bright as day.  I wouldn't even have to turn on the lights--the motion sensors would do it for me.

Yeah, I'd be popular with the neighbors (about as popular as I'd be with the teenagers.)  But that's a small price for me to pay to have peace of mind!

Disclaimer: The FTC requires me to tell you that this post is related to an upcoming review for which I will be compensated with a free product.

Book Review: Saint Clare - beyond the legend

One thing that was lacking in my formation as a Secular Franciscan was learning anything about Saint Clare.  As the first woman Franciscan, certainly there are many ways in which she can inspire those who wish to follow in the footsteps of the saint.  But I hadn't had much of an opportunity to learn about her life.

Author Marco Bartoli dissects the writings of early Franciscan biographer Thomas of Celano, who wrote a life of Clare as well as much about Francis and the Franciscan.  In Saint Clare - beyond the legend, Bartoli describes the differences in how Clare is depicted in various works by the same author.

This book is not a "birth to death" biography of Saint Clare, but instead a topical treatment of her life.  Some topics include Penitence, Conversion, War and Peace, and the Papacy.  This is a scholarly book; it demands attention and concentration (and sometimes a dictionary!)  It draws on history, both secular and sacred, as well as etymology and spirituality.

I'd recommend this book to readers who are interested in learning more about a fascinating Franciscan woman and who want to avoid "fluff" in favor of meatier reading.

This review was written as part of The Catholic Company product reviewer program. Visit The Catholic Company to find more information on Saint Clare - beyond the legend. I received a review copy of this book, but no other compensation, for the purposes of this review.

A Good Deal

It always gives me a little lift when I get a great deal on something. And today's Walgreen shopping trip: SCORE!
I did this in two transactions so I could roll over some Register Rewards on the second purchase.

First purchase:
3 10-packs Papermate pens, 19 cents each
3 5-packs Papermate automatic pencils, 19 cents each
1 Milky Way, 49 cents (with store coupon)
1 pack looseleaf reinforcements, on clearance for 60 cents
Gillette Fusion razor, on sale for 9.89

less a $4 coupon for that razor brought the total to:  8.97 with tax.

And I got a $5 Register Reward, which I rolled over to buy:

1 4-cup coffeemaker for Big Brother to take to college, on sale for $7.99.  After that $5 RR, I paid $3.55 out of pocket for the coffeepot.

My total OOP was  $12.52

My total savings including Register Reward, manufacturer coupon, and store sale was $18.19

Except for the Milky Way (mine!) and the reinforcements (needed for my sheet music for church), all of that went right into Big Brother's Box of Stuff to Take to College.  Not bad!

Happy Birthday, America!

We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Take that statistic with a grain of salt

I've been going through some back issues of magazines this evening, since the recycling truck will be by next week and I need to get them out of the living room. Of course, I want to grab the recipes and coupons out of the magazines before I pitch them.

In the process, I skimmed a few articles I'd missed the first time through. And I noticed just how much magazines love statistics. "Recent studies show," or phrases like it, regularly appear in sidebars.

It takes a little discernment to deal with those statistics. If 31% of women prefer perfume as a birthday present, that means that 69% don't. But it's the 31% that gets the column inches, because that number proves some point.

Magazines seem to be about as reliable as Wikipedia when it comes to real information. Sure, they're entertaining; they sometimes have good tips, great recipes and, of course, coupons. But do a little fact-checking on your own before you believe a lot of what you read.

Overheard

in my family room:

Middle Sister's friend: "Hey, can I get on facebook from this computer?"

Middle Sister: "Sure."

Me: "Hey, if you're on facebook in here, you've gotta keep it friendly."

Middle Sister's friend: "What does that mean?"

(Sheesh.)

Middle Sister's other friend: "That means you can't say any mean stuff."

Me: "Right, and keep it G-rated, guys."

It might be time to install that keystroke logger...

The Kool-Aid Mom and the Kid Magnet

So here we are, 10 days into summer vacation for Little Brother, 17 for Middle Sister, and 6 business days into summer job for Big Brother.

Summer's getting old already, I have to say.

TheDad is home from work this week and the big project has been the installation of an above-ground swimming pool, AKA Kid Magnet.

That makes me the Kool-Aid Mom.

The pool's not quite up and running just yet; we need electricity for the filter and the ladder is not assembled completely. But already the neighborhood kids are looking to swim.

One of the eighth-grade Boy Scouts who hangs around here in the hopes that one of Middle Sister's friends will visit has already threatened promised that he'd be here swimming often. Oh, joy. Between the pool, the fire pit, and the never-ending supply of eighth-grade girls, there's plenty to attract those Boy Scouts.

And then there are the Three Musketeers who live down the street, whose number includes Adventure Boy. I imagine that once the pool opens, they'll be here with nothing but a bathing suit (no shoes, no shirt, no towel) and expect to stay the day. Every day. If I let them swim on nice days, can I ask them to stay home when it rains?

Advice on a pool-rules policy would be most welcome. (I've already decided that if you live on this block and you show up without a towel, you can go home and get it.) Of course, invited nonswimmers need to bring their own parent and flotation devices.

I like that my kids are playing here and they want to invite their friends over. But the under-18 crowd needs to be supervised (the 14-year-olds even more so than the 8-year-olds, for different reasons) and that can be plenty exhausting.

How many more weeks until school starts?

A Final Resting Place

Little Brother wandered outside to kick his soccer ball, but came running in after only a minute or two. "Big Brother, you ran over a bird," he declared.

Big Brother hadn't driven anywhere today, and we hadn't seen a dead bird in the driveway earlier (though three birds have flown into the front window already today. They could make one of those Windex commercials here!)

Middle Sister convinced Little Brother that since Big Brother will be off to college soon, Little Brother is going to have to be "the man of the house." So he grabbed Big Brother's army shovel from the back seat of his car (do I want to know why that's there?) and set out on a bird-removal mission.

The next thing I knew, Little Brother was walking toward the house, carefully balancing a dead sparrow on the end of the shovel blade. "Don't bring it in here," we yelled.

Middle Sister told him to put the bird under the big tree out front and bury it. Instead, Little Brother dumped the bird under the bird feeder and tossed a couple of shovelfuls of mulch on top of it, then banged on the whole thing a few times with the shovel.

Lovely. Just wait until the mailman trips over it tomorrow.

Going Underground

We got some new furniture for the living room last week. I've been getting used to it (translation: I've been falling asleep in the new love seat a lot). But what has taken even more getting used to is the fact that my desk no longer fits into the living room.

Middle Sister, you see, talked me into investing in a "chair and a half" which is about the size of the old love seat. Plus we got a love seat and a couch. There's lots of seating in that room now, which is great. But there's no room for my desk.

That's OK, in a way...I like that the living room seems less cluttered without my desk. But putting it in the family room means that I am right in the middle of all the action--rather than close to the action, where I can see and hear it, but not in a spot where Nerf basketballs regularly rebound off my laptop screen (note to self: close laptop when not in use).

Summer's coming--two kids are already out of school and Little Brother only has three half-days left. I'm not yet used to having kids at home during the day--and the combination of one child who leaves the radio on in one room and the TV on in another, which happens to be the room I'm in, and another child's musical experimentation with a homemade didgeridoo is making me crazy. I can hardly wait to add an eight-year-old boy, who's in motion so much that he's blurry in nearly every picture he poses for, to the mix.

I'm jealous of Barb's "teacher's meetings" at Panera. I think I'm going to have to work in one of those every week or so. Middle Sister can babysit, since Big Brother starts work on Monday. (What are the odds that he'll be taking that didgeridoo with him?)

We have an empty desk in the basement that my husband was going to use for his home business. He doesn't use it--ever. So I may be taking my laptop downstairs, at least to get my work done (see "Blogging for Coupons" in the sidebar). I'll see how that goes.

What Kids Think About in Church

Grownups are not the only ones prone to distraction in church. Case in point:

As Father H began his homily today, he mentioned that he was going to use a Really Big Word: Transubstantiation. Little Brother's eyes opened wide. That's a BIG word! I grabbed a pen and wrote it on the front of his "Magnifikid" so he could see just how big it is.

He pondered the word for a few seconds, then poked Big Brother to show it to him. Then he appeared to be sitting and listening nicely--until he tapped me on the arm and whispered, "Do cones have vertices?"

Hermit would be a better word

Middle Sister has this pet peeve: she can't stand to be around anyone else when they're chewing. Little Brother with bubble gum can chase her out of a room in record time.

Mealtimes are not pretty around here with all of this going on.

Right now Little Brother is eating a toasted bagel. Middle Sister flew off the handle again: "You chew so weird! I can't stand it."

I commented, "You know, it's going to be really hard for you to live with other people when you grow up if you're going to be like that."

Little Brother suggested, "Maybe she'll be a nun!"

Orientation

Now that graduation's out of the way, Big Brother and I are heading over to LaSalle on Monday for orientation. Yes--this early. That's good, I guess; it will help me to get his shopping list together.

It's been a long time since I went to college--almost 30 years--yikes. And students' needs have changed in those 30 years. So if you have any kids in college or have recently been there yourself, what are some things he'll need--or need to ask about?

So far on my list to find out:
--what stores are in the shopping center across the street from campus? I know there's a branch of the bank that we use at home, so that makes cash-flow stuff easy. I think there's a drugstore, some sort of supermarket, and a few others.
--twin sheets, or twin XL?
--does his cell phone work in the college buildings? (Does anyone's? Do we need to switch providers?)
--what furniture is provided in each dorm room?
--does he need his own tp, cleaning supplies, etc?
--does he need his own printer for his laptop? Or are there school printers around for student use? If so, how does that work?
--what cooking items are allowed in the dorms? What ones are available for common use?

And I've got Barbara's pack-for-college list to work from, so that's a big help.

Mom Gets Sentimental

It's Graduation Day, which ranks right up there behind flu season and the DVD release of a tearjerker chick flick in total tissue sales.

This is the first of two graduations in our family in a span of eight days, so the tissues will be in short supply indeed.

Tonight Big Brother will graduate high school and will be launched into the big, exciting, and even a little scary world of college and beyond. I couldn't be more thrilled.

He'll be attending LaSalle University in the fall, which I believe is a wonderful choice for him. When we went to the school's open house, I was impressed by the level of personal attention the students and prospective students received. I don't want my kid falling through the cracks, and I loved the environment the university created. The university's neighborhood, not so much...I'll worry about that part of it, but moms need something to worry about.

Big Brother has really grown a lot during his school career. During his primary-school years, he was a very cautious kid. He wasn't one to take risks or go on "scary" amusement-park rides. And when presented with a choice of doing two fun things that happened to be mutually exclusive due to schedule constraints, he'd agonize over which thing to pick.

This same kid was voted "Most Likely to Become a Pirate" by the senior class. On the class trips, he rode every roller coaster at least once. There's a full-page picture of him in the yearbook dangling from a rock-climbing wall, and he's learned that he loves whitewater rafting and canoeing.  He took flying lessons for a while, earned his Eagle Scout rank, and in the span of one short year learned to play the guitar well enough to secure a music ministry scholarship for college.  Now he's working on the mandolin, bass, and banjo, and is figuring out how to build his own didgeridoo.  (I don't know if that one's going to college with him, though!)

Over the years, Big Brother has grown in many ways.  His lawn-mowing skills have progressed from decapitating a forgotten Fisher-Price person to completely shredding the cap to our sewer-drain cleanout pipe, as well as at least one tennis ball.   His artistic achievements include stamping, in 6-foot letters in the snow, "PANTS ON THE GROUND" in front of his school (yes, that made the yearbook too).   He has built couch-cushion "bunkers," snow forts, cardboard-box forts for Little Brother and for his own friends when they participated in the 30-Hour Famine, Homecoming floats, stage sets, and Habitat houses in Philadelphia and post-Katrina Mississippi.   He has made toast over the flame of an Advent candle and helped his Boy Scout troop win the Iron Camp Chef competition.

I'm very proud of Big Brother and looking forward to seeing what the next few years will hold for him.  I'm going to miss him when he is off at school, but I'm very excited for him at the same time.  (And think of all the money I'll save when I don't have to constantly stock up on pretzels and Dr. Pepper!)  Congratulations to him and to the whole class of 2010!

Happy?

I am mystified by all the people who have wished others "Happy Memorial Day" on facebook, twitter, store signs and more.

This is not the kind of holiday I think of in the same vein as Halloween, Thanksgiving, Easter, or New Year's.

Like Veteran's Day, it is a day to remember service and sacrifice. And while it is absolutely right to celebrate the fact that so many in this country have been willing to serve--even to the point of the ultimate sacrifice--so that all of us Americans, no matter who we are, can enjoy the same freedoms, it is wrong to celebrate without remembering.

People died in the service of this country. That's what today is all about--that's who we are remembering.

Is it a happy day? Yes, because we are able to enjoy those hard-earned freedoms. But that happiness is bittersweet. It came at a great personal price for a great many people. When the flag passed you by at the parade today, carried by proud veterans, did you bother getting up from your chair and saluting or clapping or singing along to the band playing "God Bless America?" An awful lot of people at the parade I attended couldn't be bothered.

So I'm just not sure that "Happy Memorial Day" is the way I want to be greeted.

Sigh

It's Prom night for Big Brother.

Due to a multiple-schedule conflict, I am unable to attend "Promenade," the two-hour-plus pre-prom event at his school. I was not invited to stop at the house where the bus that his group of friends rented would be picking them all up.

So I have no pictures. I wasn't even here to see him leave.

I hope he remembered the flowers--the ones I had to order yesterday because he hadn't remembered the flowers.

I was hoping to be able to show up at his school around the time that the prom bus did, so I could at least see him and his friends as they headed in the door.

For that, I have to depend on a text message from my son regarding the timing of said arrival. I haven't gotten that text yet. And I have to go get Little Brother at his friend's house in 15 minutes, get him and Middle Sister fed, and then take Little Brother to the cemetery where the Cub Scouts will be placing flags to honor veterans, in advance of Memorial Day.

Big Brother doesn't seem to care that I'll be missing this. He seems to prefer it. And I can understand that, because I'm like him, playing many things close to the vest--especially big rites of passage.

However, now that I'm on the other side of the fence, I know just how hurt my parents were when I excluded them, in whatever way, from my own rites of passage.

Growing up is tough. Even when you're 44.

Reconsidered

So I'm working on a spotlight article on the Power Wheels Escalade for the product blog I write over at The New Parents Guide. It'll be live on Thursday.

And I wanted to think of a catchy title.  Those are important in this line of work.

However, I didn't think it was a wise move to go with my first idea.  Something tells me that it's not smart to title a post on a baby-products blog "Pimp My Ride."

It's just a hunch...

More Study Needed

I'm not sure Little Brother has a future ahead of him as a meteorologist.

"There's a 40% chance of rain today," he told us this morning. "Mom, how much percent do you think it's going to rain?"

Middle Sister told him that it doesn't work that way, but he's insisting that the possibility of rain is somehow related to the percentage of people who think it's going to.

So Much for Idealism

There's a song from the musical Barnum that goes, in part:

Bigger isn't better,
Taller isn't smarter,
Stronger isn't always wise.

It's a lesson I've always tried to teach my kids--all of whom started out as little "peanuts."

But last night my kids learned, without a shadow of a doubt, that the one with the memory foam pillow wins the pillow fight.

Suddenly, it all makes sense

Little Brother is on his third lunchbox of this school year, and I'm hoping it will make it through four more weeks.

He doesn't lose them; he beats them to death.

And I had no idea how that was happening, until yesterday. When I arrive for my library volunteer time, the primary and intermediate age groups are out playing after lunch. I always go onto the playground and get a hug from Little Brother before heading into the school.

Yesterday they were playing kickball. It looked like a fun game, and I was watching Little Brother as he had his turn to kick. Another boy was jumping up and down on first base--also known as little Brother's lunchbox.

That explains it.

Guess I'll be buying lunchboxes in bulk next year.

Translation, Please

What the Panera "barista" says when she hands you a latte with no lid on it: "I'll just pass you the lid. This way you can enjoy the beauty of the latte."

What she means: "I put too much whipped cream on this latte, and I won't be able to put the lid on without making a huge mess and spilling all over the place. I'll let it be your problem."

Honestly. "The beauty of the latte?!" Yes, for $3.59 it had better be beautiful. But don't think I'm snowed by all that. I'm happy if it tastes good (and doesn't make a mess.)

Communion Practice

Poor Little Brother.

Since his First Holy Communion weekend (May 1) he has only received Communion twice--once on First Friday and again on Ascension Thursday.

On Mother's Day, he sat with the folk group at church. He was very well-behaved and sang along enthusiastically. But in our parish, the musicians receive Communion last. It was the last Mass of the weekend, and they ran out of hosts. Or as Big Brother put it, "They ran out of Jesus."

The deacon apologized after Mass; he said that by the time they realized they had to start breaking the hosts in half, it was too late for the ten or so of us in the choir who still needed to receive.

I felt a little deprived myself; it was Mother's Day, after all.

Then this Sunday, Little Brother had a fever, so we pulled a "Divide and Conquer." TheDad and Middle Sister attended Mass at a different time. So once again, no Communion for Little Brother (though he did read the readings in his Magnifikid.)

I hope it will work out for him this weekend, though I am a little nervous about what will happen when he goes to receive from the cup. At the parish where he attends school, the wine is suspiciously like grape juice; at the parish where we generally attend on Sundays, it's definitely wine. He has practiced receiving from the cup at school, but I'm wondering if there's going to be a grimace when he tastes the wine at our parish!

That's a Relief

I went for that followup mammogram this morning and the radiologist gave me the results right then and there. I'm fine. Everything is normal. Come back next year for my regularly-scheduled scan.

So it's all back to what passes for normal around here--shuttling kids around, avoiding dust bunnies, trying to clean off my desk, and ordering a pizza for dinner tonight because the kitchen-sink drain is pouring water into the cabinet below.

Fortunately, we keep our "recycle bucket" there, so the only thing that got wet was a bunch of empty cans. Now there's an empty bucket there. But hey, it's an excuse not to cook (or clean up) when I'm feeling lazy. Yes, I have called for a plumber.

Just Routine

Last week I went for my routine annual GYN visit. The doctor sent me along for a routine mammogram and an ultrasound to follow up on a few minor issues related to January's surgery.

I've had a mammogram before, so I knew what to expect. And I didn't expect to worry. I was more concerned about the ultrasound, especially when the technician called in a second technician to view the images.

But today I had put all of it out of my mind. I got everyone off to school. I made my grocery list, went to daily Mass, stopped at Dunkin' Donuts to get my free iced coffee, then went food shopping. As I opened the front door juggling my keys, purse and half a cup of iced coffee, I heard the phone ringing and dropped the coffee just inside the door.

It was the imaging center, calling to let me know that I needed to schedule a followup mammogram as well as a breast ultrasound. And I get to wait until Friday to have this done--and who knows how long before I'll have the results.

Good luck putting that out of my mind.

I think my new rosary will be getting quite the workout these next few days!

The Real Thing

Grabbing the milk when we were ready to sit down to dinner, I noticed some writing on the red cap. After I poured my glass of milk I flipped over the cap to read it.

"Organic."

"Drat, I bought organic milk," I complained, turning the milk bottle around to see if the label matched the cap. (It did.)

"So what's wrong with that?" Big Brother inquired.

"I paid twice as much for the same gallon of milk," I explained.

He responded, "At least you know it came from real cows."

Beetles and Orchids

Like Barbara, I am not much of a flowers person.

Must go with the name.

But yesterday morning, when I was heading outside to put my guitar, my music bag, and the amplifier and electric bass that Big Brother is borrowing into the car so we'd be ready to leave for church, I found a little box sitting next to the front door.

A pink paper was sticking out of it.

The box contained an orchid corsage, and the paper was a homemade card featuring a colorful flower and Herbie "The Love Bug" and signed "Sincerely Adventure Boy your god son."

Adventure Boy thinks that Herbie is the coolest EVER. He's been Herbie for Halloween, and his cars in the last two Pinewood Derbies have both been Herbie variations.  So it's no surprise that Herbie was featured on my card.

I'm not a flowers person, but I proudly wore that corsage to Mass and to the diner afterward, because it was so sweet of Adventure Boy, my godson, to tiptoe over here early in the morning and leave it for me.  I think the real treasure is the card, though.

Shiny New Learning Curve

Happy Mother's Day!

I had little doubt in my mind that my family would give me a Mother's Day gift of some electronic item. There's a history here...it's either electronics or a gift card.

My husband went a lot overboard this year and presented me with a shiny new laptop. Brand-spanking-new with a whole different operating system and everything. Hello, Windows 7!

I was instructed to go to the store sometime soon and purchase a book about how to use Windows 7. My husband has dealt with my frustration over learning new operating sytems in the past (cough, cough...Windows XP...Windows 98...Windows 95...) and while he loves giving techie gifts, he doesn't love it when I'm stuck in that learning curve.

Right now he is in the middle of backing up all my pictures and documents and what-have-you from the old computer, which my mom will inherit. I, on the other hand, am getting used to a keyboard with things in different places (where are you, DELETE key?) and these flat keys. Ooops. I keep hitting the wrong things and turning on the caps lock when I want the shift, and...oh my, what are THOSE keys for?

If I'm late for tomorrow's routine mammogram, it's because I was busy playing.

Question du Jour

Sometimes on my way to church for daily Mass, I hear the readings of the day on Sirius/XM radio's Catholic Channel.

And then I get to church, and I hear the same first reading, same responsorial pslam, and a completely different Gospel.

If it happened just once in a blue moon, I'd think that Father had just turned one page too many in the Lectionary. Mistakes happen, after all. But I'm beginning to suspect, as one of the Blues Brothers band members famously observed, "these lights are off on purpose." Father's reading a certain Gospel because he wants to.

This only happens at weekday Masses. And based on the homily that's delivered after the Gospel reading, he came prepared to read that Gospel and preach about it afterward.

But it's kind of weird, and it definitely bothers me. I just don't know what to do with it. Just attend daily Mass at some other parish? Speak to the pastor, who hardly ever celebrates daily Mass at our church, leaving Father to his own devices each morning? Just let it go?

Spiritual Exercise

All that recuperating I've been doing this year hasn't been so great for my waistline. So with the beautiful weather today, I knew that I had to just get out and get walking.

Walking by itself, though, is pretty boring. Unfortunately, there's no one around to be my walking buddy, so I decided that this would be a good opportunity for me to get caught up on the podcasts I keep downloading but don't always get a chance to listen to. So I grabbed a string bag to hold my cell phone, ID, house key and iPod, as well as a bottle of water, and I cued up a two-week-old edition of Among Women, since I've gotten a little behind in listening lately.

Boy, did I luck out. Pat Gohn began the podcast with a discussion about St. Bernadette--how appropriate that I'm listening to her story in May, the month of Mary! And then I got to hear an interview with Laraine Bennett, whose books on temperament are both fascinating and useful. In fact, I want to dive back into them, because I think that a little refresher course will help me understand my kids better. A little awareness of temperament is a really good thing in family relationships.

So now, I'm looking forward to tomorrow's walk! I wonder what I'll get to hear next.

Sarah's on the same page as me--last week she had a guest blogger, the author of The Rosary Workout. Sounds intriguing--especially in May!

A Sick Sense of Humor

Someone at Fox29 in Philadelphia has a pretty sick sense of humor. I love it!

When the local news returns after a commercial break, they play a quick clip of a song while showing video of some local sight--a park, William Penn atop City Hall, someone rowing on the Schuylkill River.

A few minutes ago they played a bit of Van Halen's "Jump!" while panning the camera up a large building with many balconies on the side. Turns out they were watching a goose that was pacing up and down the railing of one of the balconies on an upper floor.

I have the feeling we'll be seeing more of this goose this morning, unless he flies away before the news show goes off the air. The anchors have been speculating on whether he'll poop on anyone walking on the sidewalk below. Lovely.

A Little Chant

You might think that just because I play guitar in church, my favorite religious music consists of tunes like "They'll Know We Are Christians By Our Love" and "Abba, Father."

You'd be wrong. (Actually, I'm not a big fan of either of those tunes, and I call them "tunes" on purpose. There's much better church music for guitar out there.)

One hymn that really sticks with me is the Salve Regina. I learned it in college; Father Campbell, the chaplain, held Night Prayer and Benediction each Sunday night. He "guilted" a few of us campus-ministry "folk groupies" into going, so that there'd be somebody there.

Father Campbell was smart. He knew that he'd only have to use the guilt trip once or twice. After that, we were hooked--we wanted to be there.

Having grown up on guitar Masses, Sunday Night Prayer was the first time I ever heard Gregorian chant. We concluded Night Prayer with the Salve Regina. It is so simple, spare but beautiful. I know all the words, and I love to pray it by singing it.

In honor of Mary's month, here is the Salve Regina:


Thanks go to Barb at Praying for Grace, who is hosting a whole month of Marian topics on her blog.

Blessed!

Today, Little Brother received his First Holy Communion. He has been waiting and waiting and waiting for this day. And I was pleased to see that Father put this day into excellent perspective.

At the beginning of Mass and during the homily, Father reminded everyone that today is a very special day for the Church. The boys and girls who received their First Holy Communion today are welcomed--and always welcome. They are welcoming Jesus into their hearts and lives, and they are following the words of Jesus, "Do this in remembrance of Me."

I noticed that Father was careful not to tell the children (and their parents) that this is their special day. It seems that he doesn't buy into that kind of thing. WTG Father!

He also began his homily by talking about how bread has many forms: bread, rolls, bagels, donuts...and how even though the Host looks like just another form of bread, it is not bread--it is Jesus. We can't see the change happen during the Consecration, but we believe that it does.

I'm thankful for Father's words today (and his words last night as he helped the children with their last-minute preparations at practice.) I'm thankful for Little Brother's wonderful teacher who had her class on fire to receive the sacraments this year. Those kids were ready, and they knew what to do. You could pick the parochial-school kids out of the lineup at practice last night, because they were the ones who knew that the correct response to the words "The Body of Christ" was not just to stand there with their hands at their sides, but to say "Amen" and joyfully receive the Lord.

God bless Little Brother and all of this season's First Communicants!