Family Book Group

So last month, Sarah and I could not get to a book club we've joined; we held a book discussion on The Pearl by John Steinbeck at home, just we two. (I downloaded discussion questions.) We had so much fun together! Sarah suggested we have a family book study - some of our other people were game, so we chose a book and a date for the discussion and began reading.

The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester was our choice to read together...our discussion was last night. What a treat! Again, discussion questions were available on line (these just spur further talk about the book). There were four of us: Bill, Sarah, Christopher, and I. It generated sharing, and laughter, and philosophical ramblings.

In furthering a point, Bill read an excerpt from another book; Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. We enjoyed that snippet so much, we chose it for our next book. Then we set a discussion date for next month. Everyone is free to jump in or out at any time. It's a great reason to come together; to hear what our adult children think; to get more parental love into their tanks. A great idea - thank you Sarah!

The Providence of God

 Our car had to be in the shop three times in three successive months - and it was not cheap. As a result we got behind on other bills...we're still trying to catch up. Yet through it all we were reminded of God's providence, for we did not go hungry. Ate a lot of rice and pasta, but did not go hungry. We were able to have a modest Christmas. We were able to visit my parents in January. We learned the importance of margin; without a car we weren't able to go,go,go - a relief, actually. That part taught us to forgo good things in favor of better; time with each other. We were enabled to pay the internet bill so Bill could keep working. It prompted a reassessment of areas we could cut back even more or eliminate entirely. And we learned of resources available near us; so many more than we were aware of before our absolute poverty was set before us.

Only in America are we poor; three-fourths of the world dream of having what we have. Running water; heat in the coldest part of the year; an actual house with an actual roof which keeps out the rain; family to love and be loved. Riches beyond measure - the incomparable riches of God!

The Providence of God made us aware that in Him we live and move and have our being. From gravity holding us upon the Earth to the very air we breathe: everything is a gift from Him. His immeasurable love gives us everything, and we take it for granted! We don't deserve it, and we can't earn it, yet we have it all - everything - simply because He loves us! Loves us unreservedly, unconditionally, providentially. He asks only that we love Him in return. I can't come close to loving Him in the same way, yet I'm trying. In the meantime, I'm - we're relying on His providence and are so grateful.

Women in the Far-Right Movement

I recently subscribed to The Guardian, thinking a British news source would give more unbiased reporting of US news. I was vastly incorrect. Take this article, for example: it is implied in the first paragraph by MacKenzie Ryan, the author of this "unbiased" account of alt-right women which The Guardian chose to file under "US Politics", that she will be reporting information from people who track how the far right mobilizes, self-reports, and recruits. Yet nowhere in her article does she give actual qualifications in this area of the people she cites. We have a Professor of Media and Communications; an Assistant Professor of Philosophy; and a PhD student who is also a researcher (subject[s] researched is not shared with us). Nor does she include any interviews with actual women she considers to be far/alt-right.

"[Far-right women] have a lot more power than you think". That's Dr. Sandra Jeppesen, Prof of Media, etc. at Lakehead University in Ontario. Yep, Canada. At least she, presumably on the liberal side of things, recognizes that conservative women are not "held down" or "submissive". There's power there!

Ryan says alt-right women are mobilizing against inclusive education. I think she's been misinformed. Women (and men) of a more rational bent are not against inclusion, but against the forced infliction of a deeply flawed theory of education. 

We're told some women on the far-right are wealthy and in social media production, because, as Tracy Llanera (Assistant Prof of Philosohy, University of Connecticut) is quoted, they are "the acceptable faces of conservative propaganda". I'm sure there are no wealthy, social media producers on the far-left at all; least of all those that might be the faces of liberal propaganda. Or if there are, we're not told of them; perhaps the other side of the story comes in a following article? Although that hoped for balancing article isn't mentioned either.

Jeppesen claims alt-right women don't go into politics for altruistic reasons. Alt-left women do, I suppose. No hidden agendas with them. She says women, like men in the far-right "movement", believe there's a crisis and they have to commit to extraordinary action. Surely this is true of all people who see a crisis? And the action may be "extraordinary" in different ways. My husband and I saw several crises in the world. We responded by: remaining true to our faith; staying married through adversity; having more than 2.4 children; keeping one spouse at home with our children; homeschooling our children; teaching our sons how to respect women as something precious without denying their own masculinity; teaching our daughters how to be independent without ditching their own femininity; never using credit; living within our means; reducing, reusing, recycling; continuing to grow, do, and think for ourselves. In other words, when we saw the culture of the United States, we became "counter-cultural".  

Ashli Babbit was killed in the Jan 6th debacle on Capitol Hill (that would be the one in 2021, not the one that happens annually in the Capitol). Jeppesen says Babbit was promoted as a "martyr" to the conservative cause. "Women make better martyrs in 'the alt-right'." ?? Was Breonna Taylor a lesser martyr to the "alt-left"? And why are we quantifying martyrs? One person dead for any cause other than Christ is one person too many.

Ryan then begins to "discuss" Moms for Liberty; a group with "a fervent membership of conservative mothers". Llanera is quoted, "Mothers protect their offspring, out of the private sphere where they are most relevant." What?! Every woman is most relevant in their private sphere! Unless they don't have a private sphere. Emily Dickinson:

          How dreary - to be - Somebody!

          How public - like a Frog -

          To tell one's name - the livelong June -

          To an admiring Bog!

The Bog doesn't love you like a "private sphere" would. To the Bog, you are...irrelevant.

The PhD student Ryan cites, Iowyth Ulthiin, is working toward her doctorate at Toronto Metropolitan University and researches...something...at Lakehead University. Canada again; even the same institution. I don't understand how this article can be filed in US politics when two of her three sources are Canadian? I don't understand how this can be classified as US news at all. It's clearly an opinion piece. An editorial from someone who neither did any real research nor any active, clear reflection on her subject at all.

So long, Guardian! I'll have to keep searching for truly balanced articles about the US. It's a shame I can't get unbiased reporting about my country within my country.

Rain in the first world

 A couple of weeks ago, we got rain. Deluge, build-an-ark rain. The water table was already high; flood warnings out for the nearby Sangamon River. The front stalled above our house and dropped inches of rain. Epic proportions. 

Our basement flooded. The two lowest boards of our staircase dropped; disappeared. Not just under the water - no longer part of the stair. There was now a two-foot drop at the end of the staircase, though we didn't know this at first. Bill went down to explore, scraped his leg badly as his foot dropped into nothing. Bill is prone to cellulitis infections; it was obvious he couldn't go down again.

My turn. I put on my pink camo rain boots and headed down. Held tight to the rails and cautiously lowered my left leg down into the water. My boot instantly filled. Hmm. These boots are calf-high. Time for a different tack. I backed up the stairs, emptied my boot, and steeled my courage. In swimsuit and water shoes, armed with a walking stick, I tried again. Down the stairs and into the abyss. Shocking cold water. Up to my hips! Oh my!

It's never flooded this badly before. We have a submersible sump pump and a back-up; neither seemed to be working. In fact, the back-up was also submerged. Worse, the water was half-way up our furnace/air conditioner (which sits in a lower recess) and 2/3 of the way up our hot water heater. Bill had already turned the electricity off to the basement, of course. As I made my way slowly through the water by flashlight, hunched over from the low ceiling, growing increasingly chilled, my throat started to close. I could feel panic rising in my chest as I inspected the damage. I finally turned and rushed through the drag of the water from a full-blown panic attack, banging my head on some duct-work on the way out. The walking stick helped lift me to the now-bottom step, though I painfully wrenched my knee in my haste.

It took a week or so for the water to recede; but we're still using fans (no air conditioning) and washing dishes and showering in cold water (no hot water). We don't have money at the moment to have someone check the appliances out before bringing them back online, and didn't have a safe way for them to access the machines even if we had the extra funds.

Enter my parents. More specifically, my Dad. An industrial engineer by trade, he can fix anything. In my naivete, I thought all men had this gift. Bill didn't even bring tools into our marriage. I was gifted a tool kit at one of my bridal showers; we had that and a socket set Bill inherited from a great-uncle that neither of us knew how to use. He has since gained knowledge from on-line videos and we've slowly amassed more tools, however... My Dad is a Godsend. Thanks to him, we now have two sturdy new steps on the basement staircase. The back-up sump pump has been repaired; the submersible sump-pump has been replaced. My Mom has offered great comfort and distracting chatter. They've bailed us out more than once and we love them beyond measure. We  thank God for them daily.

And each time I take a cold shower I think of those who would love to have a shower, no matter what the temperature. Or those who have to carry water; they have no ready tap in the house. I think of my first world problems, and am grateful. 

Dark Lava

A Lei Crime novel by Toby Neal, book 7 of the series. Lieutenant Michael Stevens is investigating disappearing petroglyphs, rare rock carvings on Maui. Someone is taking them out of their rocks with a hand held jackhammer. Stevens is married to Lei Texeira, also a police officer on Maui. She is training for the bomb squad - and not doing well. This book features Stevens' ex-wife, Anchara; Lei's dad Wayne; someone who uses shrouds to let Stevens and Lei know he wants them dead... It's an interesting police procedural that gives information on Hawaiin customs at the same time.

No Trace of Christmas?

Discovering Advent in the Old Testament. This is a slim but packed book written in German by Christoph Dohmen and translated into English by Linda M. Maloney. Much of the imagery and many of the Biblical texts we associate with Advent and Christmas can only be understood in their full depth in the light of their Old Testament roots. I read this book as Advent reading this year; it was so thought - provoking that I slowed down and stretched it through the Christmas season. It is less than a hundred pages, yet delves deeply into the Old Testament to find the basis of Advent. St. Jerome once said, "Not to know Scripture is not to know Christ." He was not speaking of the New Testament. This little book is a good place to begin at the beginning of the Liturgical year.

I'm REALLY Imperfect - Buy This Book Now

There are no perfect moms. I'm more imperfect than most. I have faulty genes; also known as bipolar disorder NOS. My challenging  mental condition is usually controlled quite well by the medication I take. However, this week has been a rough one - full of rage and tears. My poor children have borne the brunt of these emotional excesses. They don't understand the disorder; but they understand me. My eldest daughter has read up on my illness and we've all spoken about it when I'm calm; she's able to remind them it's not personal when I lash out or when I piteously sob and can't tell them why because I don't know why. But it still hurts. I know. I've been there. The tendency is hereditary and I know precisely where it came from and after a week like this there's always crushing guilt that maybe I, too, have passed it on to one or more of my beautiful ones. And they gather round me with open arms and brimming eyes, ever ready to extend mercy and incredible love.

From the introduction of No More Perfect Moms: "While we're pursuing perfection, we're missing out on the most precious parts of life: the laughter of silliness, the joy of spontaneity, the lessons found in failure, and the freedom found in grace." (Italics mine.)

On a brighter note...this is the week! Buy this wonderful book this week. Why?  Moody Publishing and Hearts at Home have teamed up to provide you with over $100 of free resources! Six presentations in Mp3 format (can't wait to hear Jennifer Rothschild, and as a homeschooling mama "Multiple Intelligences" presented by Dr. Kathy Koch will be invaluable, I'm thinking!); some inspirational printables; and three (3!) e-books! Who doesn't need to live free, have more grateful kids, and read another offering by Jill Savage? And that's not all! You'll also be entered into a drawing to win hotel accommodations and two Hearts at Home Conference registrations for you and a friend. Too cool! Can I use any more exclamation points!!!

I am registered for the conference; I have a ride lined up with two wonderful Mom's Group friends; I'm looking forward to the recharging of my Mission. In the meantime, there is calming breaths. There is the arms of my family. Their whispered love. There is grace. Thank God.

Embrace Authentic

I really blew it last night. I didn't feel well at all yesterday; didn't even go to Mass. I REALLY did not feel well. But I did laundry. My husband and I just traded rooms with our youngest daughters, so I did a little bit of cleaning there. I came downstairs to see how things were going to find our artificial Christmas tree's base had broken; the tree had fallen. It was now propped against the stair rail. Taking down the tree had not been on my agenda, but I began wrapping ornaments and boxing them up. For the most part I worked alone. My husband fixed supper; we watched "Lorenzo's Oil"; and I went back to work on it. I had let our youngest three decorate the tree and it was LOADED. Hubby and my eldest were on computers; three children were upstairs; the 8 yr old was unwinding ribbon from the tree while I was trying to remove the lights. They were tangled. Tightly. I was huffing. No one got the hint. I started taking the tree apart to get the lights off - throwing the pieces in front of my husband's open office door. I was ticked. My self-talk had me with "never anything nice - this broken, old tree - have to take it down by myself - he's always on the computer - I feel so ill and no one cares or helps...." On and on. Bill finally came out of his office to ask what was going on. "I can't get these lights off and you care more about that #*%@ computer than you do me!"

A lie. And a petulant one at that. I regretted the words the instant they flew out of my mouth. Not only did I basely accuse my husband of not caring for me, but I did it within earshot of three of my children. My teenager ran upstairs, he was so upset by my outburst. I apologized, of course. I am so not where I want to be in this journey of Christianity, marriage, motherhood.

Time was when I would mull this mistake over and over in my mind; castigating myself. Sliding into a depression
because I am so not perfect.  Guess what? None of us are.

Jill Savage's new book No More Perfect Moms has hope for all of us striving to be better Christians, wives, and mothers. Starting tomorrow there will be a 31-day Email Challenge for which you do not need the book. Simply sign up! Check out the No More Perfect Moms website for great resources and the authentic stories of other moms. Finally, buy the book, but wait to do so until Feb 4-9. We're hoping enough people will buy the book in this first week of its release to get No More Perfect Moms on the New York Times Bestseller list. This will serve the purpose of getting the book into the hands of even MORE women who desperately need this message.

I have read the book through once as a member of the Launch Team for this wonderful book. I am now reading through it a second time and taking notes so I can blog my way through it. Check back often. Until then - embrace authentic!

No More Perfect Moms

This is the title of Jill Savage's newest book, to be released in February. I've been looking forward to reading it since I first heard it was in the "birthing" process because I am, face it, a Mom who needs these words of wisdom. I have felt a flat-out failure before when I have blown it with my kids. I am very, VERY guilty of the comparison game; and I always come up WAY short. Of course, as Jill points out, I'm comparing my insides (which I know are dark and squirmy) with other women's bright, shiny outsides. The sides they only show to the world. I have several friends who have it all together - or so it seems - and I so want to be like them! But I have no idea what they may be hiding in their dark and squirmy insides. On the outside they're...perfect. And I'm...not. I am so not perfect. So I waited anxiously for Jill's book to be released.

Guess what? I no longer have to wait! I've been chosen to be part of the launch team for No More Perfect Moms! How exciting is that?! I get to pre-read the book and write a review to be published wherever I can send it. I get to pre-read the book and present it to my Mom's Group, because it contains a message we all need to hear. I get to pre-read the book! I am looking forward to the blessings God will bring from Jill's writing.

If my friends are interested in No More Perfect Moms (as well you should be!), please do not pre-order the book. Wait until it is released in February. Let's see if we can get Jill on the best-seller list! More to come from me about this topic!

Overcoming the World

"These things I have spoken to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you shall have distress: but have confidence, I have overcome the world."
--John 16:33

"Live like no one else so you can live (and give) like no one else."
--Dave Ramsey

"It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year!" Sometimes. "Walking in a Winter Wonderland." Actually, it's been one of the warmest Holiday seasons I can remember (I'm not complaining, mind you). "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." It's barely Advent! In the course of general, every-day errands, I've had occasion to hear all these songs and more in the last two weeks; frantically urging me to get in the "Holiday Spirit" and SPEND already! Give, Give, GIVE to everyone I know, the bigger (i.e. more expensive) present the better, so they will be sure to they're loved.

Guess what? Love cannot be bought.

I have been struggling with the world's notion of the Holiday season this year. Everything is so rushed, so materialistic, so meaningless. Our consumer-driven society simply adds to this sense.

My husband and I recently completed Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University. We are valiantly trying to get our fiscal house in order. This time of year is especially tough for me to do that because I am by nature a generous, giving person. I LOVE to find just the right gift(s) for the special people in my life; imagining their joy in receiving this well-thought-out choice. So the frenetic pace of Christmas-upon-us and the turtle-speed of our Baby Steps is discouraging to me. And we're trying to have a less expensive Christmas; so I'm left with a general enviousness. A dis-satisfaction. Not good. After all, that's not what this season is about, anyway.

I really like celebrating Advent. A time of waiting, anticipation, looking forward to the birth of the Lord. And to His second-coming. We "build-a-tree"; putting a few purple ornaments per evening on it (one per child). On Gaudete Sunday we start putting pink ornaments on the tree. Usually we cannot wait until Christmas Eve to fully decorate the tree, but it's always the last week of Advent. We light our wreath, with readings and "O Come, O Come Emmanuel". We do a few service projects as a family (we can always give, even if not monetarily).

Our family is getting used to being... counter-cultural. We are a "large" nuclear-family who truly enjoys the company of each other. We homeschool. We live on one income. We make nearly all our meals (including bread, yogurt, etc.) from scratch. We are faithful Catholics. We celebrate Advent before Christmas. We do not have credit cards. This list could probably go on...we do not want to be like the world at large.

With God's grace, we don't have to be like the world. Christ has overcome the world. Our goal is to model Christ. This has been extremely comforting to me as I try to stop struggling with what "I" want to do, to give, to buy and focus instead on the true meaning of and pace of this season.

Happy Advent!

Last

I've been remembering an incident at church camp when I was maybe a Sophomore in high school. It was summer camp and we were dividing into teams for a softball game. I loved playing softball and wasn't bad at it, so I was looking forward to the game. At the same time I dreaded choosing up sides; I was plain and overweight and was always chosen last. But this time I thought I had an ace in the hole - a friend of mine from school was one of the team captains. I figured I'd be chosen well before last. But teen after teen was chosen and I remained in the dwindling pool of "wanna-be's". Finally it was just me and another girl even more plain and overweight than I was. My friend looked at me and then did a really nice thing. He chose the other girl.

Of course, in the myopic self-interest only a teen-ager can have, I didn't see this as a really nice thing. On top of the once-again-being-chosen-last angst, I felt betrayed. I turned and ran blindly, crying, to the dorm. No one followed me. I was alone, as always. I threw myself on my bunk and cried myself to sleep. I didn't emerge until it was time to go to the dining hall for supper. I didn't miss meals - food was my best friend. That one incident tells pretty much how church camp, school, youth group, anything was for me. I had ZERO self-esteem.

Fast-forward. I have learned to make Christ my best friend. (For a long while I depended on my husband for that; and he is still my second-best friend. But to fill your deepest longings you have to be head-over-heels with Christ FIRST.) I still easily turn to food when I'm lonely or bored. As a result, I still struggle with my weight. I can't miss meals now, because when I do I get a migraine. (So I have to be creative when I want to fast and pray.)

Unfortunately, I still have self-esteem issues, too. You can't go through life thinking one way and change it overnight. Even though I know nothing can separate me from the love of God, I still feel unworthy of that love. Not only His love,either. My amazing husband just shouldn't love me the way he does (so goes my twisted thinking). The wonderful ladies in the Mom's Group are just "pretending" to like me. That's what my brain (or the Enemy) tells me in dark moments. I still feel chosen last. But maybe that's not so bad."For behold, some are last who will be first...." Luke 13:30a

A Manly Car

I drove my Beloved Bill to the emergency room recently; he had a rough-looking eye infection. The hospital seemed busier than usual, judging by the parking lot. I had to park our van quite a ways from the door, on the far side of a small sports car. This car was parked in the middle of two spaces so as not to be dinged, I suppose.

I made some disparaging remarks about the owner and his mid-life-crisis car. My wise husband replied, "What people like that don't understand is that a mini-van full of kids is the most manly vehicle you can drive."

Queen of the Holy Ordinary

An excellent article about the most wonderful, least recognized job in the world.

Lent

My Lenten sacrifice, the main one, is not going well this year. I'm a hypersomniac, and I'm trying to give up my daily naps. It is not going well. I'm just so fatigued - and besides, I like naps.

Last year I gave up shouting for Lent. That worked very well. My children were the chief beneficiaries of that "sacrifice". But I was highly motivated to change that behavior; I didn't like it. Our Father, in His wisdom, gives us the long winter days of Lent to make a habit of our little sacrifices. However, I caught myself shouting at my children just this week. I wish I could say it was a momentary lapse.

Perhaps, I'm trying to stretch this year's sacrifice too far. I'm giving up naps for Lent, but I'm also putting them toward my husband's intentions. Did I mention it's not going well?

Lent does begin with long winter days when things seem gray and cheerless. It also includes spring days, when hope rises with the sun. The Triduum is Lent in a nutshell: except on Easter our hope rises with the Son.

I need to just keep trying to make my bit of sacrifice; it will get easier to face just as the days get easier to face. I'm hopeful that what isn't going so well at the moment will be time I can spend in the Word and with my family as Lent continues.

I love Lent...I love Lent...I love Lent...

Political Position

Where I stand:

My Political Views
I am a right moderate social libertarian
Right: 4.56, Libertarian: 1.31

Political Spectrum Quiz


Political Spectrum Quiz from Bill, from Dylan.

Dismissed Dreams

I found a great quote by Sue Monk Kidd, in an interview with her detailed in her book The Secret Life of Bees (which I just finished reading).

"Ah, but never underestimate the power of a dismissed dream. I think there must be a place inside of us where dreams go and wait their turn."

This quote gives me hope. The things I've put on hold will someday demand an audience. My dreams deferred will become dreams realized. I might just surprise myself and become a writer or a textile artist or a saint. My dreams are just waiting their turn.

Next in Line

As I peruse the long list of who's next in line for the office of the presidency, I find myself fervently hoping President Obama did not contract pneumonia by being too long in the cold today.

iPlod, too

To Kill A Mockingbird has always been one of my favorite books. Now I hear Oprah has scored quite a coup. http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,19613041-2703,00.html She has convinced the very private Harper Lee to write an article for her magazine "O". An excerpt of the article: "Now, 75 years later in an abundant society where people have laptops, cell phones, iPods, and minds like empty rooms, I still plod along with books." Me too.