Aw, shucks

I'm embarrassed to do this post, because it seems to be too much about me (though, I guess if I took a close look at my blog, I'd see me, me, me, and ... oh, yeah, look ... over there ... it's me again.)

You know how I feel about memes. I get paralyzed.

But, I do want to thank the following extremely kind and generous women for naming me as a part of their "Mathetes"** list:

Christine at The Simple and the Ordinary
Donna at Donna-Marie Cooper O'Boyle
Leticia at Causa Nostrae Laetitiae
Meredith at Sweetness and Light

This is quite humbling. Thank you.

And, ultimately, of course, I hope the point is that it's not about me. It's about Him. He does all the work, and yet I get the memes. Somehow it doesn't seem fair, does it?

So, I'm tagging God.

Just kidding.

As to my own list, it would be too long, and would take me all day. There are so many disciples out there ... those who disciple me in my faith, and in my vocation as a wife and mother, in my work as a writer ... the list is endless and so is the gratitude and admiration.

And so, to all of you (those who blog, and those who don't) a heartfelt thank you for all that you do for me.


**the Mathetes (Greek for disciple) Award, created by Dan King of Management by God is "to recognize those who take to heart the Great Commission and further God’s Kingdom by creating more disciples for Him." Dan continues:

Winners of this award must pick five other “disciples” to pass it on to. As you pass it on, I just ask that you mention and provide links for (1)this post as the originator of the award (Dan King of management by God), (2) the person that awarded it to you, and then (3) name and sites of the five that you believe are fulfilling the role of a disciple of Christ.

We now resume our usual busy-ness

Remember when I said I'd be extremely busy for a few days?

I was.

We:

Drove.

And drove. To Texas (But I was not near any of you, I don't think. Which is why I didn't call you. That and the fact that we did not have a free minute.)

We went to a wedding.

We ate. We danced.

We laughed. We cried.

We slept.

We drove.

And drove. And drove.

We got home.

Mr. Putter was delighted to see us.

We looked in amazement at much laundry.

We collapsed.

Atticus uncollapsed and went in to work an hour after we got home. I dubbed him Super-Atticus.

I retrieved many, many email messages (after proving to myself that I can actually go several days without internet usage even as free wireless stared me in the face at our lovely hotel. Are you proud of me?)

I didn't answer any of those emails.

I wrote this post.

I said good-night.

Light blogging, heavy busy-ness

I'll be extremely busy over the next few days, so visit everyone else in the blog-o-sphere. :-)

The word of the day is "beer"

This is for Atticus.

But, you too can have things like "The Word of the Day is Beer" come to your Inbox, if you sign up for Travlang's free "Word of the Day" thingy. You can sign up here.

Below is an example of the languages we chose to receive. This is "Foreign Language Light" in our homeschool (because usually, the word of the day is more useful to my children than the word "beer") and is a nice little way to expose the kids to various common phrases (not usually "beer" ... did I mention that?)

"Beer"

Hello Karen Edmisten , Below are the languages you requested:

Click on a linked word below to hear it spoken.

Arabic	Bira
French	la bière
German	das Bier
Greek	mbi'ra
Italian	Birra
Japanese	Biiru
Latin	Cerevisia
Mandarin	pí jiuv.
Romanian	Bere
Spanish	la cerveza
Swedish	Öl

Au revoir!

Stuff I love

• Ramona, still asleep at 7:40 a.m.

• the crispness of autumn, which brings me back to life after a summer of wilting

• inviting friends over for dinner and knowing that not one of them is going to say, "Ummm ... do I have to eat this?"

• poetry
  

• our church, so quiet during a holy hour

• that I live in a world in which I can go to a museum for free and see works by Monet and Renoir and Van Gogh and Caravaggio and Degas and El Greco and Bouguereau and countless others

• bullet points

• old houses

• the feeling I have when a child's birthday party is over and I know that the soiree was a success

• coffee cups
  

• our 20-year-old couch (it started out white ... can you imagine?), which has seen much better days but is still the most comfortable thing in the house

• homeschooling my kids

• new books ... and old books ... and looking at books ... and getting catalogs about books ....
  

• Atticus making me laugh

• Atticus making our children laugh

• that life is so completely unpredictable, and that it is the most unpredictable things that make me happy
  

Go on a Book-Walk with Cay

Be sure to stop by and visit Cay Gibson for her latest Book-Walk.

The description of a Book-Walk is here. Cay's latest post on the latest Book-Walk is here.

It all starts Thursday morning, and you don't want to miss it ... Cay's giving away a free copy of her new book, Christmas Mosaic.

Don't Forget Your Medieval Mice

Just for fun, we're also re-reading Redwall by Brian Jacques.

What's a Middle Ages study without the daring deeds of brave mice, rabbits and badgers?

I'm tempted to buy The Redwall Cookbook too. But, I'm done buying books. Right? Right? Yes, I'm done. Done, I tell you.

40 Reasons to Adopt

from a mom who has:

Check out Heidi Hess-Saxton's post on 40 Reasons to Adopt.

Twelve Bright Trumpets and Augustine Came to Kent

We started our Middle Ages reading with Margaret Leighton's Twelve Bright Trumpets. It consists of twelve fictional stories, set in the Middle Ages. Real historical figures drop in and are accurately depicted, but the main action centers on young people of the time. This would, I thought, serve as a nice introductory piece for our reading this year.

We do like the book, and the girls were enjoying the stories. But I felt I'd dropped it into the wrong slot in our reading schedule. There was just enough confusion ("What year are we in again?") that I decided we'll go back to this one at the end of the year. Then, certain stories will make more sense ("Oh, yeah! I remember when we read about Charlemagne!") and Twelve Bright Trumpets will serve to reinforce our other reading, rather than introduce us to it.



From there, we moved on to Augustine Came to Kent by Barbara Willard. We all enjoyed this one quite a lot. Set in the year 597, it follows the life of young Wolf, who is being raised in Rome after his father, a former slave, was freed by Pope Gregory. Now, Wolf longs to accompany his father and the admired monk, Augustine, on a Christian mission to the land of their birth, England. Once they've landed, Wolf encounters foreign speech, strange beliefs and unsettling danger. He also finds a lifelong friend.

Willard has a nice way of roping the young reader in fairly quickly, creating concern for her characters. At the same time, the prominence of Pope Gregory and Augustine (later bishop of Canterbury) in this story helped to fix the time period in the girls' minds. Highly recommended, and the girls' only complaint was that Wolf was not a girl.

We've just begun Son of Charlemagne, also by Barbara Willard. And, though they're enjoying it so far, they're still wishing for a female protagonist.

They'll have to wait, I think, for The Striped Ships by Eloise Jarvis McGraw. According to Kathryn the Bookworm (see the comments of this post), it's told from the perspective of a young Saxon girl. I recently ordered a used copy of it, so my girls will eventually get their wish and might stop asking me, "Why are the Middle Ages all about boys?"

Just one other quick note: the girls are loving their Color Your Own Book of Kells.

Amazing company

Today's saint is St. Peter of Alcantara. According to the short bio on the front page of MyCatholic.com, he was a mystic whose writings were used by St. Francis de Sales and he was a friend and confessor of St. Teresa of Avila.

MyCatholic.com includes the following quote from St. Peter:

"He does much in the sight of God who does his best, be it ever so little."

~~ St. Peter of Alcantara

What I do so often seems little ... may I, with God's grace, do my best with each day.

Blogging for a cancer cure

Visit Lissa at Bonny Glen to find out more.

Ramona keeps me humble

She just called my blog posts "composts."

It's hard to keep up any level of self-importance in this house.

355 More Reasons to Have Kids

First, I read this bit of sadness.

Then, I decided to add some balance to the equation with my "40 Reasons to Have Kids."




Others have jumped in, so I decided to compile all the posts I've found thus far. If I've missed a post, please let me know and I'll add your link!

Sarah at Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering
Kathryn at The Bookworm
Ana Braga-Henebry at Ana Braga-Henebry's Journal (and so nicely divided into four stages of life with children)
Matt at Play the Dad
Christine the Soccer Mom at Domestic Vocation
CMerie at Catholic Wife and Mother
Montessori Lori at Montessori for Everyone (weighing in with 75 reasons)
Kale at un-Muted Mumblings

And, Melissa Wiley sweetly posted "Reason #41: Ramona Stories."

Amen.

Update: See Heidi Hess Saxton's post at Mommy Monsters for 40 Reasons to Adopt.

(Image courtesy of ImageChef.com)

Putty and Poetry Friday

This week, I've been preparing for a masquerade ball (we're having a birthday here) while simultaneously dealing with things such as:

• the Pontiac (a beloved 15-year-old member of the family which the kids named Putty) is acting up

• the van thinks it needs brake work
  

• the furnace has stopped working (we don't really need it, but I want to know it's there)

• the toilet is clogged
  

• Ramona wants to paint. Now.

• there will soon be a wedding in the family which will involve a fair amount of travel, the purchase of new clothes, depression about my hip size and careful route planning.
  

So, my poetry is a bit pedestrian today (and no, I really didn't mean to make such an awful pun.) It's about Putty.

Sigh.


Putty

Putty is fifteen
and he is tired.
He flashes frightening lights at me
randomly
in an effort to get my attention.
I drop him at the local clinic
only to have him sent home,
untreated,
the equivalent of taking
my sick child to the doctor
and being told
she needs only some rest.
I want him medicated
and well.
I want him for another fifteen years
(I love him so)
but know that I may
(one day soon?)
have to let him go.

Alas, poor Putty ...
a car of most infinite jest
most excellent fancy.
He has borne me on his back
a thousand times.

May it be a thousand more.
His flashing light may not
be the end?
For where there is light
there is hope.


The entire Poetry Friday round-up can be found at Kelly Fineman's Writing and Ruminating.

It Must've Been a Water Ballet

When I told Ramona it was time for her to get out of the bath, she said:

"Awwww! I was just about to do my big number!"

Being Open to Life, ala Danielle, Christi, Margaret, and Copycat Me

I'm following the lead of several incomparable moms. It's another chain reaction, a bit like the "40 Reasons to Have Kids" (and I still need to put that whole chain together and do a post linking to lots of other great lists.)

Yesterday, the incomparable Danielle encouraged us to encourage one another in our openness to life. Then, the incomparable Christi at "Mum2Twelve" posted her Family Foundations article on the subject. The incomparable Minnesota Mom did likewise.

And, now, I'm being a copycat.

I was blessed to appear in the same issue of Family Foundations that ran essays by Christi and Margaret. We were all asked to write about how we had discerned family size, how we "decided" to have the number of children we have. And, even though we have such varying numbers of children, ultimately, our answers were the same: God decided.

And we keep letting Him decide. He's the boss of us.

It's not always easy to follow the Boss's orders. But, it's always good. Always best. And always, bottom line, the most joyful road to take.

The Little Way of a Little Family

“How many children should we have?”

When young, Catholic couples marry, do they ask that question?

My husband and I wouldn’t know. We weren’t Catholic when we married (we were, in fact, unbelievers) nor were we particularly young when we started a family. For the first seven years of our marriage, we agreed that we absolutely did not want kids. We thought them too expensive, too consuming, and definitely too sticky.

But time, God’s sense of humor, and conversions to Catholicism led us to embrace parenthood. We’re now the happy parents of three beautiful daughters on earth and a number of (miscarried) souls in heaven.

For us, “How many children should we have?” was never the question. Once we opened our lives to God’s plan, our question became, “How many children does He want us to have?”

He seems to have settled on three. We are, at ages 47 and 50, ridiculously open to more, but that’s in God’s hands. And, I must say that life with three is good. No, let me amend that: it’s great. I dote on my daughters, find endless delight in being a mom, and repeatedly catch myself wondering, “Who was that horrible woman who didn’t want children and how could she not know what jewels they are?” My incredible girls make me laugh every day, cry now and then, and, most of all, thank God constantly for the gift that they are to me.

By Catholic standards, we are certainly a little family, due to our late start and our losses. And while having a small family has brought certain heartaches, perhaps our losses have also helped us appreciate more fully what is unique in each individual child. And, perhaps, they’ve helped us to see that every child (born to us or not) is an eternal blessing. In my journey to accept God’s will for our family, I’ve learned to trust that He gives what’s right for us.

On a more lighthearted note, I’ve also learned to appreciate some practical advantages to being “little.” For example:

• In our small family, I can revel in more one-on-one time with each of my children than perhaps a mom-of-many can. We schedule regular “Mommy/Daughter Nights” out, which usually involve an evening Mass and copious amounts of ice cream.

• Speaking of Mass, when we’re frantically racing around getting ready for it on Sunday morning, I have only three little heads of hair to fuss over (my husband is on his own) and only three pairs of shoes to track down (he’s on his own for that, too.)

• Our whole family still fits in our ’92 Grand Am, a more fuel-efficient vehicle these days than our van (which we broke down and purchased during a particularly strong phase of “Van Envy” that I experienced a couple of years ago.)

• A mom with only three kids and a van (aha -- It was a smart buy!) can tote her kids’ friends around town, making her feel quite magnanimous, and giving her the opportunity to help out the big families, who have no spare vehicle space.

• Our whole family still fits in one hotel room, making traveling a slightly more economical proposition.

Now … would I trade in all of these silly, little worldly benefits in order to have more gifts from heaven?

Oh, yeah. In a minute.

But, God is making that call. And, I firmly believe He wants us to work with what He’s provided, to “bloom where we’re planted.” The Lord allowed our many miscarriages; He gave us only three living children in our little family. In contemplating this, I’m reminded of St. Therese of Lisieux and her “Little Way.”

St. Therese had big dreams. She wanted to be a missionary, evangelizing the whole world. Instead, she was given a short, hidden life, full of mundane little tasks in the convent, tasks she learned to do with great love. And now, this Doctor of the Church is evangelizing the whole world through her intercession from heaven.

It’s true that St. Therese could have asked God, “How many countries should I visit?” but that would have been the wrong question. God answered Therese’s desires and expectations in surprising ways, just as He has done for my husband and me. Our little family here on earth -- our “little way” -- is not the big dream family we’ve often wished for. But, our little domestic church is exactly what God wished for it to be.

It was never up to us. But I know that, like Therese, we will see rewards and beauty in heaven that we cannot begin to imagine here, while we’re still looking through a glass darkly.

Ultimately, the answer to the question, “How many children should we have?” is easy:

Ask God.

In so many ways, big and little, He’ll let you know.

*****

To Live on a Rock

When I was younger (okay, not younger ... young) I wrote a short story about a woman who was restless. It wasn't a particularly good story, although it earned me the absolute best rejection letter I've ever gotten, and I really loved an editor named Keith at the Carolina Quarterly for a number of years, but that's not the point.

The point is restlessness. The protagonist was restless with her life, her marriage, and with the world around her. She was vaguely bored and unhappy, and somewhat worried that her husband might be having an affair. She longed for something good and stable and strong, but the something -- and how to get there -- was a thing she couldn't quite put her finger on.

At the end of the story, she is sitting up, waiting for her husband to come home. She cancelled plans with a friend earlier in the day, in order to go shopping for a new garden hose with her husband, because he'd said it was important. But, at the last minute, he cancelled the shopping plans and told her not to wait up. She's been watching TV, and a rather unsavory commercial has just ended. She says:

"I am glad my son is in bed so that I don't have to explain this. Of course, he will see everything someday. I cannot keep the world from him. But, sometimes, I'm afraid the world will be too much for him. It is so big and poorly planned. I want it to be simpler. I want to shop for a garden hose tonight. I want to live on a rock in the north Atlantic, herd sheep, shun make-up. I want to raise a child who will never see television, and I want men and women to love each other for all the right reasons."

I still think about this story sometimes and about the curious title I chose, which was "To Live on a Rock." As I mentioned earlier, I was young, and I was months away from being baptized Episcopalian, and certainly had no intention of acknowledging the Catholic Church. But, even then, I knew that I longed for something that was solid and true, something uncomplicated and real. I still didn't completely have the means to articulate it to myself, much less to anyone else, but I knew. (And although I was -- in some ways, regarding the searching -- the woman of this story, Atticus was not the man, I feel compelled to point out. Atticus is incapable of betrayal and he's never once canceled a shopping date of any kind with me.)

Back to the story, my story. Something was out there. Something timeless and good, stable and strong. Something that made sense of love and marriage and relationships and promises. It attracted me, beckoned me, and was slowly pulling me closer. Over time, it unfolded, and my path became clear.

And now, I know.

I know what it means to live on a rock. The rock of my faith -- the Catholic Church -- is the thing that is solid, true, uncomplicated, real, stable, strong, and helps me make sense of marriage and promises. It shows me how and why men and women can love each other for all the right reasons.

I am there. Still a work in progress, of course, but I know my address.

I yearned to live on a rock.

And now I do.

Thank you, God, for a happy ending to my story.

St. Teresa of Avila

Today is her feast day, so I must share a few of my favorite quotes:

Let nothing trouble you
Let nothing frighten you
Everything passes
God never changes
Patience obtains all
Whoever has God wants for nothing
God alone is enough


*****
"Oh my Lord! How true it is that whoever works for you is paid in troubles! And what a precious price to those who love you if we understand its value."

*****

Spoken to God during a trial: "If this is how you treat your friends, it is not surprising that You have so few of them."

*****

"God, deliver me from sullen saints."

*****

"Remember that you have only one soul; that you have only one death to die; that you have only one life ... If you do this, there will be many things about which you care nothing."

*****

"Do not dismayed daughters, at the number of things which you have to consider before setting out on this divine journey, which is the royal road to heaven. By taking this road we gain such precious treasures that it is no wonder if the cost seems to us a high one. The time will come when we shall realize that all we have paid has been nothing at all by comparison with the greatness of our prizes."

*****

Great books:
Interior Castle
The Way of Perfection
Fr. Thomas Dubay's Fire Within

Great links:

Women for Faith and Family
Catholic Culture

Flannery O'Connor on writing and faith

Thanks to Barry Michaels, via Catholic Writers Online, for tipping us off to this great quote from Flannery O'Connor:

"I feel that if I were not a Catholic I would have no reason to write, no reason to see, no reason ever to feel horrified or even to enjoy anything."

The quote is from Flannery O'Connor's Vision of Faith, Church and Modern Consciousness, a lecture given recently by the Archbishop of San Francisco, George H. Niederauer. The entire lecture can be read here (pdf file.)

Nocturnal Ramona

We were talking about whether or not we were morning people. Anne and I are definitely not morning people. Atticus and Betsy are usually altogether too chipper in the a.m. for our taste.

"I like to stay up all night long!" said Ramona.

"You do? When have you stayed up all night?" I asked her.

"Well, I haven't yet," she said, "but I'm destined to."

Poetry Friday: Gerard Manley Hopkins

I'm in a Hopkins mood today, so even though I shared this poem just a few months back, this is the perfect time of year to revisit it. It's also one of my favorite Hopkins poems and one of my favorite poems altogether.

So, please pardon my redundancy and enjoy this exquisite piece of work:

Spring and Fall
to a young child

Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By & by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep & know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.

The Poetry Friday round-up can be found here today at Two Writing Teachers.

Flexibility

I like to make my bed every day, but when I find the cat like this:

I can let it go.

I like to tidy up the house each day, but when this is what's making the mess:

I can let it go.

I love autumn in Nebraska, but to love autumn in Nebraska, one has to be flexible, as flip-flops and warm boots sit side-by-side, waiting to see what kind of day it will be:

And speaking of flexibility, Mr. Putter is extremely flexible with the kids, though in the second example below, he's clearly (evident in a close-up view of that expression) in danger of losing the flexibility factor.

Have a lovely and flexible Friday.

The Month of the Rosary

October is
dedicated to the Rosary
and so am I.





A few great things to read:

Women for Faith and Family

Catholic Encyclopedia

Pope Benedict, asking us to pray the Rosary for peace in our families and in our world

Excellent article, "The Past Her Prelude: Marian Imagery in the Old Testament" by Sandra Miesel, at Ignatius Insight

We're nothing if not logical

Ramona, after making her way sleepily into my arms this morning:

"I'm so tired."

Me: "Well, you just woke up."

Ramona: "Oh. Yes. Well, that would explain it."

Sarah's 40 Reasons

Visit Sarah at Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering for her list of 40 Reasons to Have Kids. I especially loved #1, #3, #16 and #27.

Thanks, Sarah!

40 Reasons to Have Kids

(9/13) Updated again to note: People often land on this post after Googling "Reasons to Have Kids." If you're looking for serious discussion about that question, this is not the post you're hoping for, as it was not a serious exploration of the issue.

(6/10) Updated again -- More discussion, in which I begin to tackle the real questions:

Thinking About Having Children, Part 1
Thinking About Having Children, Part 2

Updated to note:

People often land on this post after Googling "Reasons to Have Kids." But many don't read the back story about how this post came about, so here it is.

My original post on this subject is  here. It offers more detail on the book No Kids: 40 Good Reasons Not to Have Children. Based on what the author says about her own reasons for having kids, I thought she clearly had them for the wrong reasons, and that she then projected those feelings (and her own failings) onto her children and the world. Her regrets about her children made me cringe. Not because I think everyone should have children, but because I genuinely felt bad for her kids (who were still young and vulnerable when she wrote her book.)

By way of contrast, my list was written in the spirit of love. In spite of all the challenges of parenting (and I was once part of the "I'll remain child-free forever" contingent), I wouldn't change a thing.  My  "40 Reasons to Have Kids" was a quick counterpoint to an unhappy, mean-spirited book. (An article about the book -- and the original list of "40 Reasons for Not Having Children" on which I based my list  --  is here.)

Let's be clear. The author of No Kids is not  "childfree by choice."  Hers is not the case of someone saying, "I've chosen not to reproduce for the following reasons."  She has two kids. They'll one day read her words, if they haven't already. And though I'm sure she meant to be clever and funny, I feel sorry for her children,  the targets of her cleverness.

I mentioned in a comment below that kids have a way of "not getting it" regarding their parents' humor, especially when it's about wishing them out of existence.

So, perhaps this post sprang from a maternal instinct to protect children in general, even hers.

The real irony is that there was at time when I didn't think I even had a maternal instinct; I vowed to never reproduce.

By age 19, I was firmly convinced I would never want children -- never, ever,  no room for argument. I inquired about sterilization, but my doctor wouldn't consider it, given my age. I was outraged at the him for making such a decision for me.

I was 30 years old before my views on children significantly changed, so I've certainly been on both sides of this issue.

Please keep all of the above in mind when you read this list, which was my spontaneous reaction to a list of  40 silly, petty reasons not to have children. I offer, instead, an account of the completely unpredictable and unbelievable discoveries of parenthood.

At one time in my life, I wouldn't have believed them either.

**********

original post:


So, yesterday I mentioned this woman. She wrote a book detailing her "40 Reasons Not to Have Kids."

Today, I present:

40 Reasons to Have Kids
(based on her reasons not to ....)

1. Desiring children with the man you love is as natural as breathing.

2. The experience of delivering a new life to the world is singularly exhilarating. If you fear pain, there's this lovely thing called an epidural.

3. Breastfeeding: it's not only economical, efficient, and good for the baby, but it releases hormones that relax and calm both mother and child, lulling both of you to sleep. Who wouldn't want a natural nap-inducer?

4. The world doesn't revolve around me and my daily desires.

5. Every human being has dignity and worth.

6. A child is an unbreakable bond between husband and wife. Love breeds love. And more love. And more. There's nothing more desirable than the father of your children.

7. A couple becomes a family -- the whole becomes greater than its parts.

8. Having a child is a cooperation with the sacred.

9. Children are some of the most charming little people I know: full of wonder, curiosity and innate kindness. Properly nurtured, they become equally charming adults.

10. You get to read all the favorite books of your childhood all over again.

11. Children naturally grasp the lesson that people are more important than things.

12. Children teach us the freedom that comes with self-discipline and self-sacrifice.

13. The biggest drudgery is facing no one but myself day after day.

14. I am not ideal ... why should I expect my children to be? Kids teach us the joy of unconditional love and acceptance.

15. I will inevitably disappoint my children because I am not perfect. But, along the way, I'll be able to teach them that -- while nothing on this side of heaven is perfect -- the journey and the perfection that awaits us are worth every moment of trial on earth.

16. To remain or become a self-centered, self-enclosed egotist: what horror!

17. Taking time to care for the gifts I've been given ... yes, thank you.

18. Motherhood is a vocation: fulfilling, rewarding, and full of unpredictable surprises.

19. Families: they are a reflection of the Trinity.

20. Relive childhood and all of its innocent wonder and mirth.

21. To persist in saying "me first" is a sign of immaturity.

22. A child will ignite the fond memories of your own childhood.

23. While you cannot ensure that your child will be happy 100% of the time, the desire for her happiness is a good, admirable and unselfish thing.

24. The enchantment of being with one's children outweighs any and all other difficulties.

25. If you worry about sending them off to school, homeschooling is a delightful, intellectually stimulating option.

26. Do something to change the world. Have a child. Raise a saint.

27. Revel in the simplicity of a child's unconditional love and trust.

28. Parenting will soften your hard edges and sharpen your compassion and empathy.

29. Motherhood is an insight into one's soul. It's better than analysis.

30. Success is not defined only in terms of what one does for money. To succeed as a mother is beyond worldly success.

31. When your husband becomes the father of your children, a new man appears: fiercely loving but practical and still-logical, nurturing but fiercely strong and protective. You will fall in love with him all over again.

32. The child to whom you give life may be the one to fight the culture of death and the notion of a brave new world.

33. "How can there be too many children? That is like saying there are too many flowers." -- Blessed Teresa of Calcutta

34. Children whittle away your time in ways that are ultimately beneficial: they have an uncanny knack for getting rid of the meaningless hobbies that used to consume you.

35. Watching a child grow into a caring, sensitive soul is a reward that cannot be measured in book sales.

36. It's an awe-inspiring thing to have a child and the experience of feeling, "I didn't think I could ever love anyone that much."

37. Already have a child? Have another. Siblings are the best birthday presents, Christmas presents, Father's Day presents, Arbor Day presents ....

38. Baby toes. Need I say more?

39. Okay, I'll say more. Watching your baby sleep: You didn't know that angels could be held in your arms.

40. Worried about money? What's worth more than a soul?

I'm at a loss for a post title

Atticus saw this article (not for children) over at Mark Shea's yesterday. It's the story of a French writer who has told the world, in her bestselling book, that she regrets having children. She and her partner (according to the article, they have a psychiatric practice -- yikes!) are raising two children, ages 13 and 10.

Here she betrays her problem:

"Generally speaking, people who have children have them for the wrong reasons," she says. "They have them because they're afraid of being alone, and they want to grasp a tiny bit of immortality."

She has projected her own mistake -- having children to escape a feeling of loneliness -- onto the world. From earlier in the article:

She is painfully honest, as perhaps only a psychiatrist can be, about her own delusions of motherhood. She had been an only child and had hoped that having children would end her feelings of loneliness. She realized too late, she says, that it simply created new forms of loneliness.

And so, this poor, unhappy woman is trying to justify her own shortcomings by telling the world that her children were a mistake. She thinks she is being hip and funny, but all she's really accomplished is for me to feel pity. Especially for her children. I'm sure she'd find me hopelessly archaic for doing it, but I'll be praying for her.

Betsy gets to the point

Last night, Atticus wasn't home for dinner, so I took the girls to Runza for a nice, artery-clogging meal. Since I had given up meat for the day, I ordered a cup of coffee and proceeded to thoroughly enjoy watching my children consume many artificial colors and flavors.

We had a great time, and at one point laughed so hard that Anne almost lost her slushy through her nose.

As we were getting ready to leave, my stomach was protesting the meager provision I'd provided. I mentioned to the girls that right next door was another establishment that offered more artery clogging fare, as well as generous portions of grease, which I strongly crave about once a year. As we climbed into the car and were buckling up, I mused, "Shall I drive-thru, or just head home?"

Betsy said, "If you get that for your dinner, I know what it'll taste like."

"What?" I asked.

"Guilt," she said.

We headed home.

I had lettuce and cheese on a corn tortilla.

I don't even like Abbott and Costello

Ramona: "Mommy, what's your blog named?"

Me: "Karen Edmisten."

Ramona: "No, I mean your blog."

Me: "Karen Edmisten."

Ramona: "No, that's your name. What's your blog's name?"

Me: "It's Karen Edmisten."

Ramona: "Mommy! I want to know what you named your blog!"

Me: "Karen Edmisten."

Ramona (losing her patience with me): "Mommy. Your name is Karen Edmisten. Blogs are supposed to have other names."

Me (admitting my complete deficiency in this area) : "You're right. Blogs usually do have clever names. But mine doesn't. It's just my name. That's my blog name: Karen Edmisten."

Ramona (walking away, illusions of my cleverness shattered): "Oh."

Poetry Friday

Poetry Friday
is being hosted
today at Whimsy.



And, because I could use another cup of the stuff of which some poetry is made, I'm recycling the coffee poem I posted earlier this week.

How Do I Love Thee, Coffee? Let me count the ways.

(by K.E., with my sincere apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning ....)

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My cup can reach.

I love thee to the level of everyday's
most quiet need (which is to start the day with you.)

I love thee freely (as I strive to awaken.)
I love thee purely (as one who is addicted.)
I love thee with a passion (which is embarrassing.)

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
when I was pregnant
and had morning sickness,
but my love is so strong
it was reclaimed when all sickness had passed.

I love thee with the breath (though coffee breath be not pleasant)
with the Smiles, tears, of all my life!

and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death,
for surely there is coffee in Heaven.

Happy Feast Day of St. Francis!

We love him, as evidenced in past posts.

And, today, we're asking his intercession for my sister's poor puppy, who's very, very sick.

St. Francis, pray for Delilah!

Update on 10/05/07: Thanks so much for your prayers. My sister's sweet puppy dog died early Thursday morning. They're heartbroken, so please say a prayer for them.

Butterflies are free

My apologies for calling to mind the awful 1970s movie.

Yesterday we set our butterflies free, releasing them into the wild of the backyard.

And as the last one flew away, Anne wistfully noted:

"I feel something akin to bereavement."

A movie meme: How many of the hundred have you seen?

AFI: 100 Years, 100 movies

The ones I've seen are in bold (and most of them were probably seen before I had children. I took a couple of classes on old films in college .... But, I think I've seen only 7 and 1/2 movies in the last thirteen years ...)

1. Citizen Kane (1941)
2. Casablanca (1942)
3. The Godfather (1972)
4. Gone With The Wind (1939)
5. Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
6. The Wizard of Oz (1939)
7. The Graduate (1967)
8. On The Waterfront (1954)
9. Schindler's List (1993) (I watched part ... I was too weak to finish ....)
10. Singin' In The Rain (1952)
11. It's A Wonderful Life (1946)
12. Sunset Boulevard (1950)
13. The Bridge On the River Kwai (1957) (parts of it when Atticus has had it on ....)
14. Some Like It Hot (1959)
15. Star Wars (1977)
16. All About Eve (1950)
17. The African Queen (1951)
18. Psycho (1960)
19. Chinatown (1974)
20. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (1975)
21. The Grapes of Wrath (1940)
22. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)
23. The Maltese Falcon (1941)
24. Raging Bull (1980)
25. E. T. The Extra-Terrestrial (1982)
26. Dr. Strangelove (1964)
27. Bonnie and Clyde (1967)
28. Apocalypse Now (1979)
29. Mr. Smith Goes To Washington (1939)
30. The Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948)
31. Annie Hall (1977)
32. The Godfather Part II (1974)
33. High Noon (1952)
34. To Kill a Mockingbird (1962)
35. It Happened One Night (1934)
36. Midnight Cowboy (1969)
37. The Best Years Of Our Lives (1946)
38. Double Indemnity (1944)
39. Doctor Zhivago (1965)
40. North By Northwest (1959)
41. West Side Story (1961)
42. Rear Window (1954)
43. King Kong (1933)
44. The Birth of a Nation (1915)
45. A Streetcar Named Desire (1951)
46. A Clockwork Orange (1971)
47. Taxi Driver (1976)
48. Jaws (1975)
49. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)
50. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)
51. The Philadelphia Story (1940)
52. From Here To Eternity (1953)
53. Amadeus (1984)
54. All Quiet On The Western Front (1930)
55. The Sound Of Music (1965)
56. M*A*S*H (1970)
57. The Third Man (1949)
58. Fantasia (1940)
59. Rebel Without A Cause (1955)
60. Raiders Of The Lost Ark (1981)
61. Vertigo (1958)
62. Tootsie (1982)
63. Stagecoach (1939)
64. Close Encounters Of The Third Kind (1977)
65. The Silence Of The Lambs (1991)
66. Network (1976)
67. The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
68. An American In Paris (1951)
69. Shane (1953)
70. The French Connection (1971)
71. Forrest Gump (1994)
72. Ben-Hur (1959)
73. Wuthering Heights (1939)
74. The Gold Rush (1925)
75. Dances With Wolves (1990)
76. City Lights (1931)
77. American Graffiti (1973)
78. Rocky (1976)
79. The Deer Hunter (1978)
80. The Wild Bunch (1969)
81. Modern Times (1936)
82. Giant (1956)
83. Platoon (1986)
84. Fargo (1996)
85. Duck Soup (1933)
86. Mutiny On The Bounty (1935)
87. Frankenstein (1931)
88. Easy Rider (1969)
90. The Jazz Singer (1927)
91. My Fair Lady (1964)
92. A Place In The Sun (1951)
93. The Apartment (1960)
94. Goodfellas (1994)
95. Pulp Fiction (1994)
96. The Searchers (1956)
97. Bringing Up Baby (1938)
98. Unforgiven (1992)
99. Guess Who's Coming To Dinner (1967)
100. Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)

h/t: Bookworm, Studeo and A Catholic Mom in Hawaii

I'm not either

I've been seeing this clip all over the place: Brandon Heath's I'm Not Who I Was on YouTube.

(h/t to Dawn Eden, by way of Mike Aquilina, and also the CERC.)

The service here is great

After saying goodnight to the girls, thinking they were tucked snugly into their beds, they suddenly reappeared as I was brushing my teeth.

Betsy: "We want goodnight hugs!"

Me: "We already did goodnight hugs, didn't we?"

Anne: "Don't you give refills?"

Who doesn't love Margaret?

We all love Margaret!

So, we should all run, not walk, over to Minnesota Mom's blog and wish her a Happy, Happy Birthday!

Margaret is still on a spiritual retreat from her blog, but you can leave a message, as I happen to know that she does check her email. ;-)

Margaret, may your guardian angel (whose feast day it is!) watch over you today and always.

The happiest of days to you!

The Loveliness of Comfort Drinks

Grab your favorite comforting beverage (unless it's wine, in which case you should save this post for later than 8 a.m. ....) and go visit Nutmeg for her Loveliness of Comfort Drinks fair.


It is, as promised, lovely and comforting.

Bella the Movie

This film looks beautiful and compelling. Unfortunately, it's not opening in Nebraska. I'll have to visit someone out of state. Movie date, anyone? Margaret?

Take a look at the site: Bella the Movie.

It's a Pro-Life morning

But then, isn't every morning a pro-life morning? Which is why I feel bad about running late with this:

Visit 40 Days for Life (it's never too late to start praying and fasting) to find out more about this current pro-life campaign.

And, visit The Elliot Institute for its always-excellent coverage of all things pro-life, including excellent resources for post-abortion healing.