Note to my Nosy Kids Upon Reading My Stuff

{Forget the NSA Listening in on the Phone:
What if the Kids find my Texts?!}

Dear Nosy Kids,

You found my old Facebook, or my old text-ing history, or this blog, or some old Gmail chat session that I thought disappeared into the Internet netherworld 27 years ago: congratulations!

You now know just *how* frustrated I was when you whined at me *all* day, or how hurt I really was when you said that awful thing, or just *how* judge-y I was of that one friend's news.  It's true.  I am a real live person with thoughts and feelings that I've shared with a few people, that may be surprising to you.

You see, back a long time ago, people didn't have text-ing and Facebook, or any kind of *instant* messaging...except of course actually talking to someone, face-to-face, or over the phone (which wasn't recorded either!).  Folks wrote letters, and that can make a very interesting and wonderful record of a life, but what one writes in a letter is very, very different from what one will say directly to a close friend.  And what one says to a close friend directly didn't see the light of day, much less the eyes of prying children.

All this being said, I know that times have changed, and we adjust. I hope that you don't think less of me from whatever it is you find, but I'm not going to censor myself (too much!) in my private conversations just to save face after I'm gone.

I do want you to know a few things though.

1. I love you very, very, very much. You are my best thing, my happy thoughts, my joys and my hopes. I pray for all the best in you.  I have tried to bring you up correctly and to give you the tools to succeed. May you know that you are loved, and seek always to love.

2. I hope whatever you read of me and my past reflects something good on me (of course!), but if it does not, I hope that it teaches you something about life, about relationships, or just makes you laugh.  Motherhood has been (so far!) the hardest-best-easiest-worst job I've ever had. Life in general has been difficult and wonderful. May whatever I've said reflect all this to you.

3. Wash your face and your clothes, brush your teeth, and make your bed.  Pray every day; seek the Lord and trust Him.  Love your family with all you've got. 

...and if I'm still around, but I'm old and don't remember much: don't leave me alone, read funny things to me, and bring me old pictures to look at.  All will be well.   I love you all so much.

All my love, 

Mom

Does Jesus Have a Superman Shirt?

Theology from a Three Year-Old

I really wonder sometimes how parents *actually* pass along their religious beliefs. I mean, I guess eventually Leo and Daniel will get old enough to understand some things, and I honestly pray that they grow up to be happy-holy-healthy-and-handsome all of the time, but the logistics of getting there? I dunno. Right now, I'm pretty sure Leo thinks this is what Jesus looks like:

source

Except, he may have a sword like St. Paul.  Jury's still out on that part.

Leo had all kinds of questions yesterday about Jesus.  He was holding a small crucifix that I have from my grandmother's house, and asking about if Jesus had died, and who had done that to him.  This got Leo thinking about other Jesus statues he'd seen, particularly this one we saw at Franciscan the other day, when I dragged the boyos down for the Kelly Roggansack Memorial 5K race:

source

Let's just say, this one's a fountain, and for a boy who's potty training...one gets certain ideas.

Then he wanted to know where Jesus lives...

Mom: "In Heaven"

Leo: "With Fr. Batt?"

Mom: "Umm...well, we see Fr. Batt at church, and Jesus is there too..."

Leo: "Does Jesus have a Superman shirt?"

That is probably the central question of doctrine for three year-olds everywhere. I am simply not equipped to answer that one. I suggested calling Grampa. ...and good thing too, because here's what came next...

Leo: "Does Jesus have a sword"
Mom: "Hmm...? Well, I guess sometimes He could have a sword"

Turns out Leo was remembering all the statues at church; there's Jesus, there's Mary, there's the guy with the sword...

source

Oh....Saint Paul. Yes, he's got a sword. This lead to watching YouTube videos of Saint Paul's conversion...(yea, there's video of it--who knew?).

Let's just hope my catechesis stays this stellar (ahem.) as the boyos get older. ;)

{W4W} "Things I Hate"

*Wit for Your Wednesday*

Brought to you by the color tangerine and the letter J.

Disclaimer: I know it's not Wednesday. Don't you find that witty?
Or ironic in an Alanis Morisette kind of way? Whatever. 

Another edition of {W4W} guest-posting glam from the gorgeous and witty big-sister Mags, the loveliest attorney Maine has been graced with since Maine was graced  with my Aunt Liz and my Nana. 

This is Mags w/ her husband and HER LAW SCHOOL DIPLOMA.
Maybe it's old news that she got that last year,
but...w/evs. I still think it's pretty friekin' awsome.

With much more ado than necessary, here it is now:

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The one about the SNAKE!

Wherein I am la-la-la-ing along
...and there is a SNAKE in MY HOUSE!

     So, last night I am calmly typing up my Fashion-ista blog post, staying up late (it's about midnight at this point...the proverbial witching hour of blog writers), because the boyos are *finally* in bed after a looong afternoon of self-induced Momma-torture (aka trying to get errands done), and Steven is out of town for work, when out of the corner of my eye I see a slithery thing. A thick-snakey-looking-tail thing. Oh. My. Lord. (Repeat this last line about 7 times for effect and truthfulness).

Like the millenial I am, what did I do? I texted my sister:

Me: THERE IS A FRIEKING SNAKE IN MY HOUSE.

Mags: Oh God. Oh dear God. What kind?
Me: IDK!! Slithery

Mags: Put a bucket over it.
Me: AHHHHHH

Mags: Ahhhhhhh
Me: It is hiding. Under the couch?
Mags: Oh no.
Me: Ahhhhhh...It looked fat. AHHHHH! WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS?
...and then also...
Mags: Are there poisonous snakes in Ohio? Is it green?
Me: I am going to arm myself with something heavy...

Eventually my sister got my brother to call me and talk me through it/down. He was a very good Eagle Scout. He got me to put on my rubber boots, and get the dog to come in and have a look. Max was useless, and he probably had ticks on him. I hate ticks probably more than I hated the snake in the house. So, Max was kicked out, but Charlie, beautiful black whiney-cat that he is, found the snake for me. ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM BEHIND ME!
So, I chased the snake around and underneath and behind heavy furniture,

Actual photo of the real snake in the house that I took
for identification/bragging rights purposes.
Mostly bragging rights, who am I kidding?

wielding a broom and a flashlight and a cast-iron skillet. Wearing the outfit from my fashion-ista blog post, and my rubber boots. I'm so stylish. I looked like this:

GET ALL THE SNAKES!!!

But I felt more like..."umm...no thanks." Meanwhile, Jono is asking me key identification questions, and confirming for me that this is probably a harmless Black Rat Snake that likes to eat mice. Wonderful.  

http://www.oplin.org/snake/fact%20pages/rat_snake_black/rat_snake_black.html
"For people who have mastered their surprise or fear of
seeing snakes free in nature, this is a very graceful and attractive animal."
Yeah. Right.

 So what happened? I chickened out on my 2-3 chances to step. on. the. snake. and catch it...and then it slithered away through a heating vent opening in my floor. Right. It's probably just hanging out in the vents...climbing all over the house, ready to pop out at any moment...all I can say is:

Bring it, Snakey.

Wit for Your Wednesday (vol. 4): Fancy Guest Post Edition

*Wit for Your Wednesday*

Brought to you by the color mauve and the letter O.

Once again entertaining you with a guest post from my sister, the beautiful Margaret: 

Mags with J at Portland Head Light.
That is, the light at Portland Head.
One of the top ten most photographed lighthouses in the country.
Right near where I grew up.
Yup, we're basically famous.

She wrote about The Bachelor again.
Draw what metaphysical or existential conclusions you will. 

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Tales of a Lazy Gourmet/Impatient Food Lover:

This Girl is on Fire

by Margaret

Almost all my household chores would be or already are better with television.  

Last night I wanted to continue my marathon of Fox's New Girl but there was dinner to be made.  J was at the store shopping cause lets face it I am basically lazy.  So I needed to justify myself a little and actually start dinner.  

I brought my onions and garlic into the living room on a cutting board and continued to watch TV while I sliced.

Problem solved.  

Speaking of first world problems, our favorite show Castle was supplanted by what must have been the third hour of the Bachelor season finale.  Having watched a total of 4 and 1/2 minutes of this reality show I feel more than qualified to give commentary.  

He kissed a lot of women and still we (excluding me of course) are sent into some sort of romantic feel-good state when he proposes to the wide-eyed brunette and they ride off on an elephant.  I have concerns about the elephant.  They were on some sort of seat that seemed to be attached to the elephants hind quarters.  Like stapled on.  I was very distracted.  This is when I thought that maybe Castle was going to be late, but then the "After the Rose Ceremony - Live" came on and dashed my hopes.  

It disturbs me more to think that we actually care about this manufactured, fake, and gag-inducing tripe.  We are tricked into thinking that we care for these people.  This show represents much of what is wrong with our view on gender roles.  Women are literally falling over themselves to trick some fame-hungry man into sleeping with them the most.  Hurrah for feminism.  Hurrah for getting the vote.  Better get back in the darn kitchen and not forget to put on our fake eyelashes.  

Blah.  It trivializes relationships.  It makes women look stupid and men look one-dimensional.  Also, we should demand more from our television.  These reality shows are like the cheap toys in a Happy Meal.  They initially excite, but then we realize that they only have one moving part.  I demand wit, excitement, and a larger production budget.  Those are the shows that will get me to cut my produce in the living room.  

I need a TV in the kitchen.  

Wit for your Wednesday: Inaugural Edition with Special Guest Star

Introducing...

**WIT FOR YOUR WEDNESDAY**

Brought to you by the color pink and the letter B.

For the inaugural edition of this (potentially) weekly blog (but more likely weak-ly, aka whenever I get around to it or feel like it, as with the rest my posting...), I introduce our guest star, my beautiful sister Margaret, pictured here with one of her favorite nephews,

with (drum-roll please):

Reasons I would never be on The Bachelorette 

(besides the happily married thing)

·         I have an education.

·         My dad would be mad at me.
·         I am 27, and therefore probably too old.
·         I had enough of a living with a bunch of drama-filled girls when I was an RA in college.
·         I have self respect.
·         I decided early on in life not to prostitute myself.
·         I am higher than a size 6, and therefore also too fat.
·         My mom would be mad at me.
·         I don’t kiss on the first date.
·         Or maybe even the 2^nd.
·         I don’t really like the objectifying of people.
·         I find the men suspicious.  (You fly a plane and have a stable job with perfect teeth and  you can’t find love even though you really just want to settle down?  Yea, ok...)
·         My dad told me I could do anything, and he didn't mean make a fool of myself on national TV, he meant be a lawyer.  Or whatever.
·         I have read more than 5 books written before 1700, and 1800, and 1900…

There are several more reasons I am sure, and my useless rant against almighty reality television will amount to almost nothing.  However, this list is also why I don't watch the show....

NFP Awareness Week...

Betcha didn't know there was a week for NFP. Then again, there's a week for everything. Anyways, I'm impressed with the folks over at www.1flesh.org and www.iuseNFP.com, check them out. They are witty and fun and have lots of science and cool graphics going for them.

One-Liners

Prelude
Often I am struck with the Blogging-Muse...but only lightly; a Muse tap you could say.  I'll think of a topic, and think, wow, yea, that would make a great blog post.  But then I never get to it, or it would be too short once I thought it through, or...whatever!

So, drum-roll please, here it is ladies and gents: the One-Liner Blog!

Now, you mustn't just read through for your own amusement, you've got a job!  You have to vote on your favorite one OR the one that you would most like to see as an actual blog posting.  The winning one-liner gets graduated to official blog status in the next posting.  Ja?

Now, just in case you clicked here because you were looking for some actual one-liners, I have included a few here below courtesy of One Linerz' Top 100 List (**disclaimer: NOT rated G**).

9 - Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

12 - We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.

14 - Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

16 - Politicians and diapers have one thing in common. They should both be changed regularly, and for the same reason.

19 - The early bird might get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

100 - Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

OK, now the Offical One-Liner Blogs! (First Edition)

Folks, it's ante pasta, not anti pasta, it comes before, not against the noodles!

Things I found in the register-vent floor-grate courtesy of my son: 3 spoons, a pen and  a key chain.

Giving report at the end of shift is necessary for the psychological well-being of nurses.  Also bragging rights.


Why does "Stop, don't, come back!" translate into "As soon as I stop talking go right back to eating/touching that dangerous/disgusting object" in baby language?

There is something philosophical or theological to be said of the fact that mothers are often described as having their hands full.

I just was told, a little over 4 months after starting work at the nursing home, that there is an entire quality control task (read: useless paperwork invented by state inspectors) that I have never done.

Leo likes to help with the laundry.  He helps the folded ones onto the floor.


Often when I write on the back of family photos I act as though that particular photo were going to be the only one surviving the next great Ice Age, and thus I proceed to write down everything thereon.

Leo pushes his toy truck faster than you can run.  And makes truck noises whilst doing it.

Bramble the goat can hop her fence.

There are people in my Facebook news feed whom I don't know if I know.

I secretly (not anymore!) hope that one day a collection of all of the letters I write to people will become a published best-selling book.

"...because God's gifts put man's best dreams to shame." --Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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Now, don't forget to VOTE!