Happy Mother's Day to the Many

Dang, now I want some of my mom's AWESOME meatloaf. Here's the Kid President on Moms and their special day!


This morning I prayed a rosary on my drive back from home with my husband to home with my family (well, to my cousins' first for lunch!), and I prayed for all the wonderful women in my life. It seems to me that women can be mothers to each other, spiritually, as well as physically mothers.

When Pope John Paul II's mother died when he was young, he adopted Mary as his mother on earth as well as in heaven. It is something I have been trying to do more of - taking her my burdens, offering up my frustrations with a 'Hail Mary' and trying to really understand what it is to be gentle and meek, without losing the necessary assertion Mary had as well.

As I review books, so many of the women characters are told to be "strong" - but in reality, I often see a woman downtrodden with their own anger and blindness to the needs of others when her own are so apparent. I see those women as human, yes, and in desperate need of grace. We all need more grace, and I hope on Mother's Day we can all humbly go before our Lady and ask for more, and until we feel nourished, imitate her goodness.

In this modern day, I hope women can see their inner value and worth before making demands upon society to do so. It is only in the goodness we ourselves radiate and cultivate, only in the love we share and give, that we can truly "liberate" one another from the bonds and chains of false promises and subsequent sorrow. (And yes, White House: bringing up birth control in honor of Mother's Day is very, very poor taste and judgement.)

Special prayers for women who have given up their babies for adoption, are struggling with infertility, and are raising their child without support from the father.

Many thanks to the so many second moms, spiritual moms, and aunts in my life... and an extra special thanks to these ladies: my mom, my grandmother, and my aunt/ godmother/ Confirmation sponsor:

Mom, me, Mema and Aunt Kathy at my bridal shower last June!

"And of course, the 'Hail Mary' is biblical: we are simply repeating Gabriel's salutation to this woman--we are one of the many generations who want to call her blessed, as she herself sang in the Magnificat... Insofar as we increasingly unite our own aspirations with hers, we move closer and closer into intimate union with the Lord. 'Behold the handmaid of the Lord': if only I can learn to say that, in a thousand situations all day long when irritation, or resentment, or lust, or impatience surge up in me. 'Be it done unto me according to Thy word.' It is a wonderful frame of mind for a Christian to aspire to. The Rosary, day by day, presents to us those events upon which our souls ought to be habitually dwelling and helps us to tarry in those Gospel precincts." --Thomas Howard, from his essay, "Catholic Spirituality" in the book "The Night Is Far Spent"

And a big hug to my new mom, my wonderful mother-in-law:

She is the sweetest lady and mother EVER-EVER.

“If parents surrender responsibility to their children, the state will take up the slack. State power is the effect of the breakdown of family authority. Mothers, more than politicians, are the preservers of freedom and democracy.” --Venerable Fulton J. Sheen

In other news, I'm being kicked in the stomach on Mother's Day. Thanks, Bebe Baldwin!

Post of Shame

Last Sunday, my husband asked me if I was still doing 7 Quick Takes... which shamed me into not waiting till the last minute to blog, per my usual route.

This one is for all my fellow slackers! (Thanks to Jen for hosting!) Some awesome reads:

ONE

"When you're born, you don't really know what you're getting into," a resident of mine observed. "I'm not sure how I would have reacted if I had known I would be a 98-year-old old maid in a nursing home."
I knew what she meant. "Yeah," I said, "If I had known what I was getting into, I would have quit then and there."
"Don't quit!" Eula suddenly responded, "If you quit, who will help me get into bed?"
Somehow those unexpected words--spoken in a state of mild confusion--cut me to the quick.

Bethanie Ryan at Sacred Dignity, "Don't Quit!"

TWO

But Jesus in the confessional is not a dry cleaner: it is an encounter with Jesus, but with this Jesus who waits for us, who waits for us just as we are. “But, Lord, look ... this is how I am”, we are often ashamed to tell the truth: 'I did this, I thought this'. But shame is a true Christian virtue, and even human ... the ability to be ashamed: I do not know if there is a similar saying in Italian, but in our country to those who are never ashamed are called “sin vergüenza’: this means ‘the unashamed ', because they are people who do not have the ability to be ashamed and to be ashamed is a virtue of the humble, of the man and the woman who are humble.

Pope Francis, as reported by Vatican Radio - "Pope: Shame is a true Christian virtue"

THREE

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!

The quote on the left is from President Obama's address to this year's graduates at OSU... as telling as when he told the press (at the White House Correspondents' Dinner) that he prefers to get his news from whitehouse.gov! Which, as we all know, is as trust-worthy as Jay Carney himself.

FOUR

We live in a country where if a six-months-pregnant woman started downing shots of vodka in a bar or lit up a cigarette, people might want her arrested. But that same woman could walk into an abortion clinic, no questions asked, and be injected with a drug that would stop her baby’s heart. 

I’ll put my cards on the table: I think life begins at conception and would love to live in a world where no women ever felt she needed to get an abortion. However, I know enough people who are pro-abortion rights—indeed, I was one of them for most of my life—to know that reasonable and sincere people can disagree about when meaningful life begins. They also can disagree about how to weigh that moral uncertainty against a woman’s right to control her body—and her own life. I have only ever voted for Democrats, so overturning Roe v. Wade is not one of my priorities. I never want to return to the days of gruesome back-alley abortions. 

But medical advances since Roe v. Wade have made it clear to me that late-term abortion is not a moral gray area, and we need to stop pretending it is. No six-months-pregnant woman is picking out names for her “fetus.” It’s a baby. Let’s stop playing Orwellian word games. We are talking about human beings here. 

How is this OK? Even liberal Europe gets this. In France, Germany, Italy, and Norway, abortion is illegal after 12 weeks. In addition to the life-of-mother exception, they provide narrow health exceptions that require approval from multiple doctors or in some cases going before a board. In the U.S., if you suggest such stringent regulation and oversight of later-term abortions, you are tarred within seconds by the abortion rights movement as a misogynist who doesn’t “trust women.”

Kirsten Powers at The Daily Beast, "Abortion Rights Community Has Become the NRA of the Left"

FIVE

My "baby" sister's May Crowning was this past Tuesday! I just love these songs:



"Oh Mary, we crown thee with blossoms today! Queen of the angels! Queen of the May!"


"You were chosen by the Father. You were chosen for the Son. You were chosen from all women, and for woman shining one... Teach us wisdom, teach us love."

SIX

For everyone having a tough day, week, month, year...

SEVEN

My bebe is gettin' so big!

13.6 cm and 12 oz.!

Happy Friday y'all!!! I hope you enjoy it and all of life's little blessings -- in disguise and otherwise!

May the Force Be With You

A follow-up, perhaps, on the Vatican's symposium with non-believers:

“Everything that is moved is moved by another. That some things are in motion—for example, the sun—is evident from sense. Therefore, it is moved by something else that moves it. This mover is itself either moved or not moved. If it is not, we have reached our conclusion—namely, that we must posit some unmoved mover. This we call God. If it is moved, it is moved by another mover. We must, consequently, either proceed to infinity, or we must arrive at some unmoved mover. Now, it is not possible to proceed to infinity. Hence, we must posit some prime unmoved mover. Both statements can be proved.” 

--Stacy Trasancos, Ph.D., writes over at the new Atheist-Catholic dialogue website Strange Notions

In conversations I've had with Atheists and Agnostics, I am reminded of the importance of "defining one's terms." It's one thing to not believe in God; it's another to turn the argument to unicorns. Unicorns have never properly defended their arguments through words or action or history for that matter, so I think they can be properly left out of the conversation. The tendency towards the absurd makes talking into babble, and logic into lessening of real thought.

What I like so much about the Big Bang theory, for instance, is the fascinating argument that order can come from the chaos. BOOM! The world, y'all. But if the Big Bang happened, then as Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI says, God is behind it. Because the bang didn't just "happen." There is always a force propelling motion forward. And even if you don't believe it's God, is the other force so hard to believe? 

Beauty in the rubble of life.

"This life is far too much trouble, far too strange, to arrive at the end of it and then be asked what you make of it and have to answer, 'Scientific Humanism.' That won't do. A poor show. Life is a mystery, love is a delight. Therefore, I take it as axiomatic that one should settle for nothing less than the infinite mystery and the infinite delight; i.e., God. In fact, I demand it. I refuse to settle for anything less. I don't see why anyone should settle for less than Jacob, who actually grabbed aholt of God and wouldn't let go until God identified himself and blessed him." -Walker Percy

Bestest Chocolate Chip Cookies Evah

After craving chocolate chip cookies and reading 5 different cookbooks (Joy of Cooking is pictured below; also, The New Best Recipe from the Editors of Cook's Illustrated; Mad Hungry by Lucinda Scala Quinn; Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book; The Newlywed Cookbook by Sarah Copeland) to discern the best way to make my favorite type of cookies -- thick and chewy -- I have made an awesome batch of chocolate chip cookies. My very own variation on the classic recipe and a date night adventure in the culinary arts starts here, at the ingredients:

Please ignore the baking powder - I decided not to use it this time around!

Helpers: mixing bowl 1, a mixer + mixing bowl 2, measuring cup, 1/2 teaspoon, 1 tablespoon, 2 dining spoons, parchment paper (optional but SO AWESOME - cut with scissors), cookie sheet, and cooling rack.

So, let's start at the very beginning (a very good place to start):

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees

Mixing bowl 1 - whisk it, whisk it good (or don't, like me):
1 cup and 2 tablespoons of flour 
1/2 teaspoon of baking soda

Mixing bowl 2 (under mixing stand, or using much stronger arms than mine); beat until well-blended:
1/2 cup (1 stick) of butter (many recipes recommend unsalted; I only had salted and so used that); best if softened beforehand
1 cup light brown sugar (I used brown instead of 1/2 granulated, 1/2 brown because granulated helps give cookies the crispier edge, and I wanted softer. Dark brown sugar makes them even softer, apparently... may experiment one day for softness and flavor.)

Once mixing bowl 2 is well-blended, add in:
1 [large] egg + 1 egg yolk (carefully crack egg, then transfer the yolk back and forth between the two egg shells while the albumen (egg whites) leaks out, preferably into the sink)
1/4 teaspoon of salt (I just shook salt into the bowl)
1 1/2 teaspoons of vanilla extract

Once those three ingredients are well-blended as well, add in the flour and baking soda mixture. Continue to mix, mix, mix! Then add in 1 cup of chocolate chips! I used regular semi-sweet - may go for mini next time (preference). Mix, mix, mix!

After scraping the ginormous amount of batter off the mixer, grab your parchment paper and cut to fit your cookie sheet. 

Use one dining spoon (the bigger one) to scoop the batter, and the other spoon (smaller helps) to help plop it on the parchment paper/ cookie sheet. This kind of batter is sticky on your fingers - the more you touch it, the more it connects! Don't worry about making the batter look pretty or spread wider on your pan. The baking process will help the cookies flatten out. 

Keep the batter an inch or two apart.

Pop into the oven for 8:30 to 9 minutes, depending on the color you like.

These are at 9 minutes; I prefer the 8:30 myself - both chewy-soft!

Let the cookies cool for a few minutes before transferring to the cooling rack, and then plopping more batter onto that amazing parchment paper. (Clean-up? Done. Cookies come right off!)

These cookies are fantastic. I have three recipients who all praise their deliciousness, and I myself have had to shut myself into another room to avoid walking into the kitchen for another... which I will do as soon as I publish this!

I'm sure there are ways I can improve this recipe. Any ideas?

Bon appetit!

That evening after the strangest day of their lives

"Beauty" (Part IV) by B.H. Fairchild

So there they are, as I will always remember them, 
the men who were once fullbacks or tackles or guards 
in their three-point stances knuckling into the mud, 
hungry for high school glory and the pride of their fathers, 
eager to gallop terribly against each other's bodies, 
each man in his body looking out now at the nakedness 
of a body like his, men who each autumn had followed 
their fathers into the pheasant-rich fields of Kansas 
and as boys had climbed down from the Allis-Chalmers 
after plowing their first straight furrow, licking the dirt 
from their lips, the hand of the father resting lightly 
upon their shoulder, men who in the oven-warm winter 
kitchens of Baptist households saw after a bath the body 
of the father and felt diminished by it, who that same 
winter in the abandoned schoolyard felt the odd intimacy 
of their fist against the larger boy's cheekbone 
but kept hitting, ferociously, and walked away 
feeling for the first time the strength, the abundance, 
of their own bodies. And I imagine the men 
that evening after the strangest day of their lives, 
after they have left the shop without speaking 
and made the long drive home alone in their pickups,
I see them in their little white frame houses on the edge 
of town adrift in the long silence of the evening turning 
finally to their wives, touching without speaking the hair 
which she has learned to let fall about her shoulders 
at this hour of the night, lifting the white nightgown 
from her body as she in turn unbuttons his work shirt 
heavy with the sweat and grease of the day's labor until 
they stand naked before each other and begin to touch 
in a slow choreography of familiar gestures their bodies, 
she touching his chest, his hand brushing her breasts, 
and he does not say the word "beautiful" because 
he cannot and never has, and she does not say it 
because it would embarrass him or any other man 
she has ever known, though it is precisely the word 
I am thinking now as I stand before Donatello's David

Donatello's David

with my wife touching my sleeve, what are you thinking? 
and I think of the letter from my father years ago 
describing the death of Bobby Sudduth, a single shot 
from a twelve-gauge which he held against his chest, 
the death of the heart, I suppose, a kind of terrible beauty, 
as someone said of the death of Hart Crane, though that is 
surely a perverse use of the word, and I was stunned then, 
thinking of the damage men will visit upon their bodies, 
what are you thinking? she asks again, and so I begin 
to tell her about a strange afternoon in Kansas, 
about something I have never spoken of, and we walk 
to a window where the shifting light spreads a sheen 
along the casement, and looking out, we see the city 
blazing like miles of uncut wheat, the farthest buildings 
taken in their turn, and the great dome, the way 
the metal roof of the machine shop, I tell her, 
would break into flame late on an autumn day, with such beauty.

((I love, love, love this poem. This is only the fourth - and last - part of the poem, but in its wholeness, it is a real work of beauty. I'm not sure where I first read him -- I perhaps heard him as a visiting poet to Hillsdale? Either way, I was enchanted. This poem is from his book The Art of the Lathe.))

Good Intentions Pave the Road

Yes, it really is Friday. And the last one in April, to boot!

Thanks for hosting Jen!

ONE

My awesome editor at Ignitum Today, Stacy "The Boss" Trasancos, is the best. These past few months for me have been trying, especially from the personal stand point that I've hardly had time to edit/ publish my scribblings - particularly ones I've been asked to do, like book reviews.

She's given this piece of advice so many times, it almost hit me in the head once I realized it applied to me too: whenever one of the writers freaks out because deadline is looming and something else has come up, she tells them,

Don't worry. Life and family comes first.

Huh. That certainly isn't rocket science. (Her Ph.D. is in Chemistry, anyways.)

But when I was feeling bogged down by work and pregnancy nausea and trying to support my husband while we lived an hour and a half apart most of the week, I remembered what she said and decided to give my two weeks notice at my part-time job. It's the first time I've put my new family before any sort of job before (in a big way, at least), and it feels really right. Begone stress!

TWO

Do you follow Pope Francis on Twitter? WHY NOT?! The man is our spiritual leader, and gives us daily tidbits (in multiple languages too!). Today's tweet is: Dear young people, do not bury your talents, the gifts God has given you! Do not be afraid to dream of great things!

Oh, and THIS: 

Totes does: https://www.facebook.com/CatholicMemebase

THREE

Did I say "pregnancy nausea"? Whoops. Nausea so bad I've been on medicine, naps and 64 oz of water a day since February? Okay, yes. I am pregnant!! Here's a picture of me at 17 weeks:

Baby bumpin'.

You can't tell -- as much -- when I'm with all my siblings:

What a good looking bunch!

FOUR

Looking for a super awesome cookbook to use? I highly recommend Cheap. Fast. Good. by Beverly Mills and Alicia Ross. My mom bought it for me when I was first living on my own as a statehouse reporter, but I've really put it to use in married life. The recipes are delicious, they use every day ingredients plus tell you how much it will cost to make per serving, and the authors give tons of newbie advice, especially great for those new-ish to navigating the grocery store on a budget (but also for people in general!).

FIVE

I'm also reading Bringing Up Bebe: One American Mother Discovers the Wisdom of French Parenting by Pamela Druckerman. No, I'm not a Francophile - but neither is the author, which is what makes the book work so well. She was a WSJ journalist who met her English husband on assignment, stopped working for the paper, moved to France and married her beau, and - lo and behold! - had herself some bebes. This book is creative nonfiction and a fascinating study of French parenting. The biggest thing I've taken away is that I will also teach my bebe to sleep through the night by four months, and I can eat sushi and brie if I'm really careful. Yes, my stomach is reading this book too. I really recommend it; read with a grain of sea salt... what am I saying. Read it while eating a baguette!

SIX

That book is also encouraging my love of cheese.

Oui-oui, s'il vous plait!

SEVEN

Reminder that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month! I'll be publishing something by the end of the month, and if any of you have a story or post, please share it with us on the Bright Maidens FB page. Four days left!

Have a wonderful Friday, y'all! I'm finishing up my part-time job work and then I start a weekend babysitting job tomorrow at 8 a.m. The fun don't stop!!

2013 GPA Redistribution Video

My alma mater won the contest. Obviously.