This Love We Share

Waiting for the dentist...

We're a day away from being gone for two weeks, visiting homes and spending time with loved ones. It's a small consolation prize that Will's shift schedule is very busy while the girls and I share a room every night. (Not as terrible as it could be; not always ideal either!) I'm surprised how much routine we're able to keep going, though bed times are significantly later, which the grandparents all love.

The absence of Will is palpable to me. Staying in his parents's home could be hard; so many memories, and pictures around. (This is also a good thing!) My parents have pictures of Will up as well, and even with more hands on ship to care for and love the girls, my mind naturally wonders what Will is up to without our little attention-seekers in the house, and I'm pleasantly surprised to realize that I never stop missing Will. I always thought our long distance relationship would help mellow those feelings in time. Rather, now, it is our shared work as parents that makes me know a stronger love.

It is not just the love we feel as much as the love we share that matters in this world. While talking to Will over FaceTime this morning, I thought about sharing. We are mostly independent entities - my work as a teacher and his work as an intern do not overlap. Still- we share this work. One of us takes over girls duty if the other needs to play catch-up. I discuss ways he could improve efficiency with his hospital responsibilities (charting and logging, etc.), and he encourages me in the same (with grading). Today, he made a phone call to check on Grace's secondary insurance for therapies before running a couple errands, and I told him how the girls and I spent our morning, and what we plan to do this evening.

I miss Will. Five more days till we are home again, where we will share the same space just as we share in this life. For Will and I, our marriage seems to fall into very traditional roles - I stay at home with the girls (and teach, etc.), and Will goes to the hospital nearly every day. And still, what we encounter in an everydayness that must be shared: laundry, cleaning, appointments, therapies, consistency, meal times, food prep, and routine.

Parenthood feels like mission impossible, and the purposefulness of it is growing on me. A person cannot survive on love alone. People need purpose, want interdependence, and are always looking for ways to create community because it is in this sharing of purpose that true love, in the selfless ways, comes to fruition.

Leo Tolstoy wrote in Anna Karenina,

Levin looked more attentively at Ivan Parmenov and his wife. They were loading a haycock onto the cart not far from him. Ivan Parmenov was standing on the cart, taking, laying in place, and stamping down the huge bundles of hay, which his pretty young wife deftly handed up to him, at first in armfuls, and then on the pitchfork. The young wife worked easily, merrily, and dexterously. The close-packed hay did not once break away off her fork. First she gathered it together, stuck the fork into it, then with a rapid, supple movement leaned the whole weight of her body on it, and at once with a bend of her back under the red belt she drew herself up, and arching her full bosom under the white smock, with a smart turn swung the fork in her arms, and flung the bundle of hay high onto the cart. Ivan, obviously doing his best to save her every minute of unnecessary labor, made haste, opening his arms to clutch the bundle and lay it in the cart. As she raked together what was left of the hay, the young wife shook off the bits of hay that had fallen on her neck, and straightening the red kerchief that had dropped forward over her white brow, not browned like her face by the sun, she crept under the cart to tie up the load. Ivan directed her how to fasten the cord to the cross-piece, and at something she said he laughed aloud. In the expressions of both faces was to be seen vigorous, young, freshly awakened love.

How do you share in love?

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Remembering Donna, My Friend

Today, I missed a funeral service because I do not live in (or near) my hometown. A friend has died this week. A good friend, Donna, who always made me feel loved and like family.

My friend had one last beautiful day: Easter 2015. I sent her flowers, not knowing she would pass before their arrival.

I cried for her passing, and rejoice in her life. I am a better person for knowing her.

Donna was the grandmother of the kids I nannied a few years ago. My nanny job was my most favorite post-college job (rivaled by this current one, perhaps) and that is because I fell in love with the family I worked for - they became good friends of mine. The son and I were especially close because he did not attend school like his sister. We would spend most of the 10 hour work day together, sans a few hours of nap time, and we genuinely enjoyed each other's company.

Donna was one of my favorite parts of the job - seeing her and talking to her was delightful. She was very active in her grandchildren's lives, and I loved watching their interactions. Kindness was her voice.

She took the time to get to know me and keep up with my life. When I was engaged, she gave Will and I a wedding present which was extremely personal and generous - and that was her essence. She sincerely cared for people, and because she cared for them, she invested in them. I saw this many times in her interactions with others.

A few months after I got married, the family went on a month-long trip. I spent the month living at Donna's house, taking full care of my young charge. I was also - as some of you remember - in my first trimester with Grace. I was pretty miserable, nausea-wise. Donna made sure the house was always stocked with my four main food groups: Cream of Wheat, Progresso vegetable soup, saltines and Graeter's raspberry sorbet. She insisted I sleep in till 8 a.m. (I was usually at work by 7:30!), gave me 40 hours off on the weekend to go home to Will, and was an extremely gracious hostess. It might seem awkward to live at your employer's mother's house for a month, but it wasn't. That is a very rare quality - to put people at ease, to welcome them, and to accept them. Donna had that quality, and more.

Donna, I will never forget the conversations we had. I appreciate the way you interacted with everyone around you with respect, and I admired your generosity of spirit, a real giving of self. You taught me so much about the beauty of the human spirit, and I love you.

Thank you for loving me too.

Introducing Bebe Deux

Presenting, the newest member of the Baldwin Babes... Laura Kathleen

After a long saga (which I will detail later), she arrived on February 28, 2015 at 9:33 p.m.

She is 8 lbs, 2 oz and 20 inches long; blue eyes, black (?) hair and APGAR scores of 9 and 9

She was 41 weeks, 2 days at birth; very serious, snuggly and sleepy in first 24 hours out

Her nicknames currently include: Lady Laura, Ladybug, Concerned Citizen of the World, Grumpy Cat

Mother and Father are ecstatic! Sister is mildly ambivalent.

Welcome, darling Laura! You are dearly, dearly loved!

10 Ways To Celebrate Valentine's Day Without Presents

My husband never remembers Valentine's Day.

It's a mind block. It bothers me. It shouldn't, and I shake it off, but it does.

My mom always gave us kids special Valentines and lovin' (she's a gifts person) and we grew up helping Dad pick out a card, oo-and-ahh over them getting dressed up to go out, and admiring the present/ flowers my dad gave her.

A girl can dream, right?

I never minded being single on Valentine's Day because I knew, if I got married, my spouse would surprise me each year! Well, reality checks happen in life. The last time Will voluntarily remembered Valentine's Day was 2011, when we first started dating. Well, not even dating. We had two dates, and he was replying to a message. (I was thrilled he replied on Valentine's Day!)

The next year, we didn't celebrate Valentine's Day as an engaged couple. I don't remember why. Then, we got married. I got pregnant. That elusive date rolled around and... he didn't notice, even though I left him a note and cookies before I drove back to Cincinnati for work*.

Nothing. No message or acknowledgement. I felt super-duper sad. I called him back after our nightly chat and prayers. I remained calm and heartbroken. He was apologetic and confused.

We had never celebrated it before. I'm always finding a reason to make something into a special occasion. He's not into holidays. I know this.

I'm always looking for a reason to make something into a special occasion. ("You're home earlier than expected! Yay!!!")

This year, he's working on Valentine's Day, which is a relief. My expectations automatically dropped upon reading his schedule. Instead, I'll be hanging with my best girl, Grace Harriet, and my MIL, watching Jane Austen (or something British/ romantic) and not going into labor (yet). Will and I do have plans to go out the next night and I'm really excited for that.

My Valentine (2014)

This is part of really accepting the other person as they are, for better and for worse. Will is an incredibly thoughtful and loving husband. He's thoughtful and loving on holidays too, just not in a holiday-specific, gift-giving way.

Here are ten "gifts" Will gives to me each day, sans presents:

10. He's patient. We don't fight. This isn't to say I don't get mad at him or he doesn't get irritated with me - but he stays calm, and I stay calm-ish. We talk it out. He listens to my side, I listen to his side, and we give each other space (especially if the irritation feels palpable). We have a No Yelling rule in our family, and it's held strong.

9. In this same vein, he's honest and direct with me. He does not avoid topics. It made me very uncomfortable at first, and now, it gives me strength to be as direct and honest with him.

8. He puts me first. He puts me before our families, our work, our children, our to-do list, his fun activities. Now, this should have an asterisk by it, perhaps - he does not skip work for me, or neglect Grace - but I know I am his Most Important Person, period.

7. He encourages me! While we were dating, I decided to stop working for the family business full-time and becomes a nanny. He told me how proud he was of me to make the new leap. When I got my teaching job, he would brag about me. When he gets home from work, he thanks me for taking such good care of Grace (and sometimes, how great the house looks!) and always asks about my day and/or what I've been writing lately (since I don't always hit 'publish').

6. He respects me. My feelings, my thoughts, my body, my needs, my concerns - there's nothing he doesn't ask about or takes into consideration. When I get crabby, he makes sure I eat a snack or take a nap. He doesn't take my time for granted, and says it's okay if I don't get all the chores done because he'll help me when he gets home.

5. He motivates me. Will loves being active, playing games, reading interesting articles; moreover, he loves sharing things he loves with me, and even teaching me. He went rock climbing recently, and is excited to introduce it to me once I am more in shape/ less pregnant.

4. He's hilarious. I should really start writing down all the pithy things Will says. He brightens my day with his wit, especially when I'm over Grace's temper tantrum or frustrated or just really, really tired.

3. All the small things. His gestures are small and spontaneous. He prays with me. His kindness, his smile, the way he loves Grace.

2. He loves me - and says so. I am a words of affirmation person and just hearing how much he appreciates me or misses me or is thinking about me - it means a lot, and often carries he through the days he's hardly home.

1. He makes me want to be the best version of myself. Even when I'm grumpy.

Happy Valentine's Day to all!

*We lived apart our first six months because of my job and his school, in case you're new here.

St. Elizabeth of Hungary and Me

Happy feast day to my patron saint, whose name I took at Confirmation - St. Elizabeth of Hungary!

'St. Elizabeth of Hungary Spinning for the Poor' (1895) by Marianne Stokes

I wrote on her choosing me - "Saint of Hungary and the Homeless" - may she continue to intercede in my life!

Do you have a patron saint? How did he or she choose you?

Relationship Lites and Wrongs

Superman should have a trigger warning on it for me.

For many years, when I saw Superman, I thought of the night I saw the movie with a sweet, funny guy the summer before college; he put his arm around me and made me blush in the pitch black theater with glee. It was our second "date" (get together? meet-and-greet?).

Annnnnd, in the beginning, it was over. I didn't get it: it went so well. I kept in touch: I should have just let it go. But I thought communication was key in relationships?

Oh, the drama llamas of high school dating had nothing on college courtship. At my college,  people "courted"... what the heck was that?? Talk about marriage? I just met you! I'm 18! Let's go eat ice cream and talk about something other than our classes!

Needless to say, dating was frustrating if non-existent. I went on dates, but I did not date anyone exclusively. In retrospect, it was much better that way. I made plenty of mistakes, and learned more about myself, what I wanted, what I do not want, and the importance of trusting in God to help see me through many dark days.

A beach in South Korea... on a cloudy day

I did, eventually, see the light. It took a lot of heartbreak. It took a lot rejected feelings. It took meeting guys and thinking, We don't mesh even though we sort of like each other. It was the unrequited likes.

It was with the guys whom I really matched with -- temperament, likes, our sense of humor and sensibilities ... only to know that liking a person and moving into a relationship [towards marriage, possibly] was not a good idea. The emotional attachments were there. The taste of growing more mature often had the satisfaction of swallowing pea soup.

It can seem hard to imagine liking a person (and being liked in return) and knowing that dating should not be a possibility. Square peg, round hole.

I call these "relationship lites": good practice in how to be a good friend.

But I also know how a "relationship lite" can be all wrong. The respect wasn't there. The feelings were, and so was the trust - undeservingly. In my own experiences, I can only say that it was my love of God who protected me and guided me from making mistakes. The Lord will hear my praises all my days because I sincerely believed I was saved from myself, weak and tempted.

For people who wish they were in a relationship - this is a good desire. Companionship with love is one of the highest goods.

There must be a foundation. I used to think friendship first was a necessary requisite, before I met my husband. We would have never been friends without romance - he doesn't keep in touch, most of our hobbies differ, and our schedules are tough to match.

Halloween 2013

We built our love through philosophical conversations during hikes, my willingness to play tennis and lose badly (he is much much better), his deep respect of me and my personhood, our mutual interest in knowing each other, and our shared temperament, beliefs and faith.

He was the light who turned on in my head. He made me realize that all the relationship lites were good, and that building good relationship with males without the entanglements of physicality only added new depth to our romance. He knows about my mistakes, prideful and shallow, and he trusts me with his.

The wait is worth it -- and not just the wait for sex. Sex is important and over-glorified. There is more intimacy in knowing who a person is, having the hard conversations with them, sharing in pain and disappointment, glowing in joy and happiness, being content with who you are, and accepting them for who they are - loving in the light of knowing, not the darkness of disguise. Love, true and selfless, is worth the wait.

When you go on dates, have fun. Laugh. Tell funny stories and listen to the other person. Dating is getting to know another person. Do not worry about the next date until it has arrived. Trust that you are enough, and know that you are worthy of the highest love.

Leaving My Parents and Clinging to My Spouse

Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and cleaves to his wife, and they become one flesh. (Genesis 2:24)

Just the beginning of our walk through life together
Photo credit: 808 Studio

He answered, “Have you not read that he who made them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’? (Matthew 19:4-5)

The one thing I have been hands down struggling with the most these past two (three?) weeks is the absence of my husband. He is in PA, working odd and long shift hours; I am home in the Midwest with Grace.

Cleaving to one's spouse means forming a new family - and it was possibly the hardest and best thing that happened in our first year of marriage. Our first six months had me still living in my parents' house during the week and Will continuing his bachelor ways. Then we moved South and we only had each other. That was the best part of New Orleans: us, together, facing the world.

The world isn't so bad, either: buying groceries for the week. Making sure we paid our bills on time. Fixing coffee in the morning. Fixing dinner at night. Bed time routine with Grace. Sharing funny cartoons or news articles. Picking each other's brains. Eating together for meals. Playing and reading with Grace. PT with Grace. Walks with Grace! Netflix marathons. Reading days. Night time prayers. Popsicles as treats and therapy.

The best part about the past year was the amount of "us" time - and now that we're entering into a limited time together three years, I still feel so optimistic about us, and making time for each other, and making life better because we do things together. I used to be so timid at the idea of "leaving" my family - my plentiful number of relations for one, single person. And that one person took me on too, for better and worse.

And that's why I miss us. I just hung up the phone with him, as he gets off his shift almost two hours later. He's going to study, then bed; he has Grand Rounds in the morning, then works 11 p.m. till morning time. I get another round of Grace-wakes-up-all-night-and-day, and maybe I'll read more of my Agatha Christie too. It would be so nice to be reading in our own bed while he studies, with Grace across the hall, instead of me needing to tiptoe back into the guest room.

I'm ready to go home to PA. I love my family - both sides! - and seeing them and spending time with them has been so special. But I am officially cleaved. I miss my much better half. It's such a strange notion to me, that I could ever adore someone like I do Will. I mean, it's almost irrational. Love is. Some parts, it makes sense: we work together well, we want the same things, we have similar temperments, we complement each other. Other parts are a mystery: we have few common interests, he's much funnier than I am, I'm more talkative about everything, and our pursuits are different.

And still, we fit. We choose to fit. We want to fit.



That's possibly the thing I've realized most these past few weeks (two more to go!): the transition from getting married because, logically, we love each other/ we respect each other/ we enjoy each other's company/ we want the same things to we are married and for this healthy relationship to continue so happily, we must continue to appreciate and need the other person.

I think it's so nice to be needed. Will and I are in it for the long haul, and we're in it for the short haul too. The freeing realization that I do not have to hide my emotions for fear of teasing or rejection: that I'm always accepted by him. That I can openly miss him and not feel like I am being silly: that missing a part of myself is perfectly natural.

Let the countdown continue - Michigan vacation starts this weekend (and for the next week!), and then home again, home again, jiggity-jig.

10 Things To Do Before Having Kids

I stumbled on one of these gems of a list the other day - you know, the TEN ZILLION THINGS TO DO BEFORE YOU HAVE KIDS - and decided to make my own. My first boss out of college lamented to me and another co-worker one day how he and his wife were not able to do fun activities any more since the birth of their three kids. I didn't get it: my parents always had so much fun with us!

That's a pretty modern implication: after X life event, your life - as you know it - is over. Fun is dead.

Here are practical things to do before having kids so that life continues to feel fun and not dead-like.

10. Start a savings account.

Okay, boring. But having a bebe is much better when you're serious about money. They do cost money, but not too much, if you budget well. {Special circumstances withstanding.} Be diligent about putting aside 10-15 percent every month. While you're at it, write a budget too. Based on your income and current assets, this may change over six month periods, and learn how to handle money! This is possibly the single most important skill to have as a single person, married person, and parent person. Expenses pop up! Be prepared {and don't overthink it}.

9. Choose patience.

Patience is hard. Showing your child patience over anger is possibly the most sincere form of love. Showing patience to your spouse is equally rewarding. Behaviors build off each other! Start with the person who cuts you off in traffic!

8. Work on your prayer life and relationship with Christ.

There are few things that will bring you to your knees faster than having a child. Will and I began praying as a couple when we were engaged, and now we pray with each other and with Grace each night. I also pray on my own each day, for special intentions and strength to persevere.

Life with the hope of Christ gives me strength when times are tough, and gives me such a view of God's beauty. Prayer is a conversation with Christ - sometimes our talks are short; other times earnest; and, my favorite, is leisurely. The best way to pass on our faith to Grace and future littles is to show them my faith, explain our faith, and experience it with them. We must get to know Christ before we can debate him.

7. Work on how to disagree actively and calmly.

Not everyone is born with a calm disposition, but everyone is capable of having a reasonable disagreement - even if it means taking a break or going on a walk. Say "I'm sorry" and mean it. Value the feelings of the other person just as much as your own. This is especially important for children to witness - and to have their feelings validated too.

6. Know thyself.

The best way to parent is to become a parent unique to you. I'm not going to use cloth diapers just because other moms do. I'm not going to make my own baby food (I tried, sigh), and I'm going to indulge Grace by sleeping with her during nap time (currently the only way I can get her to sleep with all the traveling). Know what is good for your baby, and know what is good for you. Be the best parent version of you! (Not the mom you want to be!)

5. Explore new skills.

What I love about babies is how much they absorb from the environment around them, and how they are constantly learning. How encouraging to me! I am continuing to hone my culinary skills, but I am also loving learning more interior design theory, tennis, fishing, and yoga. I've thought about gardening, but let's not get too crazy here.

4. Buy a sense of humor

If you don't have one, that is. There are so many things with kids that can make you want to cry. But why cry when you can laugh? Life is fun, and so are kids. We can be a little less serious about annoyances and more serious about laughing at them.


3. Keep up a good relationship with your family and friends, and know boundaries.

A friend of mine recently told me I am a great "mom advocate" for Grace, and I was really touched by that. I'm a naturally timid person, and my husband has been my number one advocate. He helps me deal with personal frustrations and I help him keep in touch with loved ones. But most importantly, we have learned to prioritize our family above all. We've had to miss family get-togethers (sniff), and we've missed friends' weddings, but we did what was right for us, and that has helped me truly center in on doing what is right for Grace as well - not to make other people happy.

2. Read!

You must read to your child. Okay, now that we've agreed on that, you must keep reading too. It doesn't have to be deep: it needs to be what you like. I love murder mysteries, British lit, and Southern lit, with rhyming poetry thrown in there. (T.S. Eliot too!) I love the Little House on the Praire series (re-reading now), the Anne of Green Gables series, anything by Flannery O'Connor and Pope Benedict XVI, and essays.

Reading expands your mind. Reading keeps life interesting. Reading keeps your soul reaching upwards in the hidden worlds of good stories. Reading renews a sense of wonder found in childhood and often lost by the cement truck of reality.

1. Love yourself, be happy.

This is possibly the most important thing a person can do in life. We all struggle and we all hope to be better, and those can be turned for the good. The inecurities we face are not who we are: we are children of God; his beloved. We were made this way for a purpose - it is up for us to create fruit in our own gardens. Sometimes, that is being content in our single days. For me, I am still wrapping my head around my motherhood. I love Grace, and I love my work. But I don't love when I feel like I am not giving 110 percent to both.

But it's just not possible, for me, at this point. And I'm accepting that! This is my season of life, and I choose to be happy about it. I love myself because I am not my work.

One may not always feel happy, but we can always choose to be happy. This is the secret of life, in my book, and I hope to pass this on to my children.

**

The most important thing to do before having kids is to be open to them. Be open to the adventure life is with them. Be open to the hardships, and be open to the laughs. Life can be as boring as your imagine it, or it can brim with possibility. It really is up to you.

Perfect Detox

Starting this week, I'm forcing myself into detox. Computer time detox.

I do most of my work online, so I find myself at the computer often - and it's starting to really drain me. When Grace goes down for a nap, I open up my computer to type-type-type till I hear the familiar Call of the Awakened Beast. More often than not, however, I find myself reading home improvement and interior design sites. I find them fascinating. They're so organized! They're so original!

I read words like "decor scheme" and I think, What is my decor scheme?!?

Our apartment is cozy - it's big enough for us three, and a little snug when company comes over - we invite everyone anyways. Part of the Christian life is hospitality, and I want our house to be as inviting as it is beautiful.

But first, something we each must answer is the call of the present. We must do the dishes; take a shower; complete our work; attend mass; love our family, friends, neighbors and self; eat; sleep.

As the move approacheth, I've been overwhelmed by the piles I create around me. In my efforts to organize, I create more work. The logic is, the more I organize, the more organized I will be! Instead, I am exhausted by the ring-around-the-rosy activity. So, yesterday, I started conquering piles. It was also exhausting. But more satisfying - thank you notes, check. Packing up three boxes, check.

As I enter my real, grown-up life, I still feel my sea legs wobbling when it comes to meal planning or laundry or decorating or organizing. I suppose the reason I am most excited about our new home is that it will be just Will's and mine, and we'll both have income, and we'll have more space to grow as a family.

Still: the move looms. The computer distracts. And as I prayed to God, begging him to help me be more organized, I recognized a voice distinctly God's: Julie, stop procrastinating. You're not going to pack perfectly or complete your to-do list on time. Get over it and get moving.

Perfection is the opposite of progress.  

Today in the Gospel, we were told that God would never (ever!) orphan us. We are his family - he created us to love, out of love. This is essential to faith - the knowledge that, even when we do not feel loved, we are. Mightily loved. He even loves people who try to be perfect not as our Heavenly Father is perfect, but as HGTV Magazine is perfect.

Pretty perfect, but earthly standards.

This morning's Scripture passage was especially apt: "Be firm and steadfast; go to work without fear or discouragement, for the Lord God, my God, is with you. He will not abandon you. He will not fail you or abandon you before you have completed all the work for the service of the house of the Lord" (1 Chronicles 28:20).

Sometimes, what we have now is enough to carry us forward. Packing boxes is less glamorous than perusing the interwebz, but infinitely more rewarding and helpful. Say yes to love and less to self - it's a good way to serve God by DIY, y'all.

Because You Can't Plan Perfect

I am in super planner mode. I love this mode. It means I get to write lists and then cross the things off the lists, and make more lists, and then re-write the lists in fancy ways. It's fun, because that's the kind of fun I like to do.

I get in this mode when I am:

A) avoiding work
B) stressed about work
C) reality is staring at me in the face and not blinking
D) coping
E) overly excited about something that clearly needs to be planned

(Cough moving again cough)

And so, it should be said that when I was pregnant with my dearest and loveliest Grace Harriet, I did not plan for her arrival. I continued to work 40 hours a week; I pushed through my morning sickness the best I could [I had the best and most understanding employers ever-ever too]; and, honestly, I had the best time being married, while also going through three tough major life events with him.

I was strong for him and with him, and that felt good. It felt very married.

I love this picture - my perfect new baby!

We moved to New Orleans and I spent a majority of my time getting settled and unpacking, writing for my Story Sessions writing workshop, napping, binging on mystery shows of Netflix (specifically, Rosemary & Thyme, Poirot, and Monk if you need awesome show ideas), learning my way around New Orleans, getting my appetite back, swimming with Will, and more sleeping.

I channelled Will and decorated her nursery with our love. I tried to get really excited about meeting her. I daydreamed about what having a baby would be like.

Fast-forward to Grace Harriet's birth: awesome. Steady pace, epidural, no complications, and life-giving. I did not take any birthing classes beforehand (besides a free basics one at the hospital), and while it was mildly informative, I enjoyed seeing other pregnant woman and eating the complimentary cheese.

And I'm tearing up as I type this because I love Grace so much. She is my baby, and she is perfect. She is social and lovely and sassy. She smiles for almost all of my pictures, and we like to laugh together. I've never been so smitten. Grace has legitimately changed my life for the better.

Since Grace was three months, we've noticed that her right arm does not move as intentionally as her left, and she likes to keep her right hand fisted. In a possibly related note, her right leg is a bit weaker than her left. We've brought it up to her doctors, and by six months, we got the go ahead for physical therapy. Thus began a month-ish of interviews and multiple evaluations. Yes, a healthy pregnancy. No, nothing abnormal. Yes, she does have the most beautiful blue eyes.

My beach bum bebe

Finally, we met Grace's therapist - a vivacious woman who has been doing this for over 20 years, and has a young daughter with cerebral palsy. Ms. Lisa is an amazing resource of information. She is gentle and firm with Grace as she stretches her and helps her gain more muscle mass (needed for her fine motor skills as well as her gross), and teaches us how to ESTIM her, since we'll need to buy our own and do it twice (or more) a day to help Grace recognize and use those muscles more (she is responding so well to this treatment!). She'll get a tiny hand splint to help keep her right hand open more.

There are a lot of positives - whatever Grace has, with persistence and lots of therapy, she should do just fine. She has great range of motion, moves her arm and hand voluntarily, and is very flexible. She is able to withstand long PT sessions, and is generally in a good mood as we contort her body and during ESTIM sessions. We're seeing a specialist on Thursday - a physiologist who is triple board certified in pediatrics and sports medicine; the doctor himself also has cerebral palsy and a reputation for diagnosing hard cases.

Ms. Lisa working with GHB

But when Ms. Lisa and Will are talking during a session, and words like cerebral palsy and hemiparesis are being said towards Grace, I want to cry. They are not life-threatening conditions, and for that I am sososososo grateful. I suppose I am just in shock, of sorts - and it is the confirmation that my gut told me everytime someone said, Maybe she's just going to be a lefty.

No! It's something more. Something we did not plan on; or expect, for that matter.

At mass yesterday, I stopped feeling anxiety for Grace. It was temporary, and a good reminder to go to God. God, who loves perfectly. God, who gave his only Son. God, the Alpha and the Omega and the one who loves us and carries us and knows us each intimately. God has the best plans for Grace. I need to trust in him, and talk to him, and avoid the company of scary thoughts. It is Satan who plants doubts. Satan spreads sadness. Satan hates the hope Love gives me.

Mama Mary, full of Grace, guide me to be the best mother to GHB.
{statue at St. Patrick's on Camp Street, NOLA}

Grace is going to be okay. Struggle is okay. The most important things are to continue loving her wholly, doing PT with her, teaching her cheerfulness instead of shame, and continuing to praise and go to the God who made us, who knew each of us before the womb (Jeremiah 1:5). It's amazing to me how babies thrive in the love of their parents. I need to learn to thrive better in the light of God's love of me.

May I continue to be open to his plans, and plan along with God, the Great Creator.

When People Make Mistakes (But Not You!)

Life, in all its glory, is pretty messy. Sin skips and trips us through life as we try to be faithful and nothing halts us up more than the compare and contrast game.

You know the game: Why did she do that? Can you believe he said that? I would never…

You would never… lie or cheat, commit adultery or covet your neighbor’s good fortune, speak poorly about another to the advantage of your own reputation?

The golden rule — to love our neighbors as ourselves — is not a friendly suggestion:  It is a commandment of God, and it teaches our heart to love until it hurts. And it will hurt, sometimes. Loving another does not mean liking them. It means giving them the benefit of the doubt, holding your own tongue from a harsh rebuke, gentle counseling when they are taking the wrong path, and forgiving.

It means training your mind to combat the vices planted by jealousy: why not me?

Instead of why-not-me, try, What does God have planned for me?

We all have a different story to tell, a different vocation to fulfill, and our own life to lead. None of us are in charted waters all our life; mistakes will happen. Things will not go as planned; but do not give up hope! God wants the kind of relationship where you wrestle together through the rough patches, like Jacob, unwilling to let go until he received his blessing.

As Holy Week approaches, let us remember that Christ died for us and our sins, and your neighbor and his sins, and that lady who honked her horn at you, and the co-worker whose jokes rub you the wrong way, and the guy who would not just take a hint. Instead of stewing, turn toward prayer. The Book of Lamentations, Job and the Psalms are full of frustrations.

Saint Ambrose wrote in Explanatio Psalmorum (XII, 1, 4, 7-12),

“In the book of Psalms, the way for progress for all men is to be found, and there lies the medicine for the health of all. Whoever reads it, will find the way to cure the wounds of one’s own defects with a specific prescription. Whoever takes the trouble to look at it will find, as on a training ground for virtues, various kinds of exhibitions. And one can choose for oneself, whatever one considers most suitable. The prize is thus more easily within one’s grasp.”

The reality is, we are humans prone to sin. Only God is infallible, and it is wisdom that recognizes our own fallibility as well as that of others’. Instead to dismissing or condemning, we should see others’ weaknesses as an opportunity to be a non-judgmental listener, a support system, and/or, someone to pray with and for them, and hope that they see our own weaknesses in a similar merciful light.

It does no good to say or think: If I had been in that situation, I would have acted differently. We can only learn, and lean more on God. Jesus, I trust in you. Holy Spirit, fill me with courage – give me the words to say.

The sooner we remember that we are responsible for loving God above all and our neighbors as ourselves, the sooner we can forgive as our Heavenly Father forgives, and love as our Heavenly Father loves.

Originally post at Ignitum Today.

#7QT: Love What You Do

Joining Jen - Happy Friday!

{one}

New adventures: typing one-handed while your baby has your left index finger in a Chinese finger trap, except that attempts to squeeze out results in tears. But, this is good for me. As the perpetual planner, I'm learning to enjoy the moment more and jump ahead less. I like it.

Waking up snuggles

{two}

Last day of Black History month - shout-out to Dr. Mildred Jefferson, the first black woman to graduate from Harvard Medical School, the first woman in the Boston Surgical Society, and a leader in the National Right to Life movement. She died in October 2010.

{three}

Here she is giving an awesome talk about the National Right to Life movement:



Real, honest, charming.

{four}

Another awesome woman: Mayim Bialik. From PolicyMic:

During a red carpet interview at the SAG awards this January, the actress was forced into an awkward situation after Bono's doppelganger tried to asked her if people assume that she can do advanced math because she plays a smart character on TV. As it turns out, she can do calculus in her sleep because she's secretly a neuroscientist. And by secretly, I mean she publicly taught for several years, wrote a book about the science of hormones for parenting and has given several public (and very recent) lectures about the importance of investing in STEM careers and research. Oh and she's also the official spokesperson for Texas Instruments graphing calculators.

Her author bio is pretty rockin' too:

Mayim Bialik, Ph.D., is perhaps best known for her lead role as Blossom Russo in the 1990s television sitcom Blossom, and she currently appears on the top-rated comedy The Big Bang Theory. Bialik earned a B.S. from UCLA in 2000 in neuroscience and Hebrew and Jewish studies, and a Ph.D. in neuroscience from UCLA in 2007. She designed a neuroscience curriculum for homeschoolers in Southern California, where she also teaches middle and high school students. Married to her college sweetheart with two young sons, Bialik is also a Certified Lactation Education Counselor. Visit her at MayimBialik.net.

You go, girl!

{five}

Verily's Life Style Editor wrote a "Love What You Do" article, and it is so well-said.

While there’s nothing wrong with doing what you love, I have a more universal mantra to propose: “Love what you do.” Turning the DWYL mantra around can help see through the false liberty that our culture maintains as true—that happiness can only be attained if you do what you love. On the contrary, it’s a journey to love—not merely doing things you enjoy—that leads to true happiness.

Read the whole thing.

{six}

"Chasing after the DWYL [Do What You Love] mentality can easily transform into a sense of entitlement (“I deserve to do something more,” “I’m too good for this,” “If only I were happy in my job, then I could . . . “) which leads to self-centeredness and bitterness toward others." --Krizia Liquodo

I think it is natural to have these feelings as we people search for our likes and dislikes; but it's also easy to form resentments, and start comparing lives.

Why does she get that job? I've been job searching forever!
He got engaged? But he's so weird! I want to be engaged too.
Why does she keep posting pictures of her dog/ baby/ new purse/ cool location where she lives?
He always posts the coolest posts. Why don't I find those kind of interesting posts?

Like it or not, you're you, and there is a reason. That's why we're on this earth - to pursue our adventures!

• You want to be in love; nay! Be married! Yes, the snuggles are great - but married people do not sit around snuggling each other all day. They continue living their lives, and some days are great, and some days are hard, and every day is a choice to love. And the harder thing is often loving yourself as much as you love the ones you care about - learn to love yourself today so you can best know how to love another when the time comes.
• So you don't have your dream job? Keep working towards it. No one should want to peak early - keep earning it. 
• Lonely? So are a lot of people. Start volunteering at an older people's home - give companionship to people who can't get out like you can.

Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I say that because I do it all the time. Moping occasionally, whatever. But when I get sleep deprived, I get silly. The demons have a play day, and poke me: I'm so far from family, Will is gone at school, Grace take-yer-nap-right-now, I have to stop reading about residency, and, and, and... God has blessed me. I am blessed. I take life one moment at a time. In fact, I should do so much more with my life! Life is not a series of social media posts; life is real, and a struggle, and delicious, and active.

#GraceADay keeps the thugs at bay...

{seven}

But then I read posts about cats that go missing and I laugh. Life is goofy.This article on Jane Austen re-writing the history of England is gold too.

Oh, and The View (vol. 2) is going up tomorrow - join me!

Love and Sunshine and Sex and Poop

Happy Thursday from New Orleans, where it's winter, but never snowing. Instead, my nemesis, ice, reigns on the colder days. They shut down two highways over it. At least it's sunnier now, and we can take walks up to St. Charles Street, where we always talk about going to the Trolley Stop Cafe, and always seem to forget around meal times. Besides, even though we live in a foodie dream center, we hardly eat out.

St. Valentine's feast day is tomorrow, as are the more sombering feast days of Sts. Cyril and Methodius and St. Maro. I toyed with surprising Will with Fisherman's Stew, but I'll more than likely plan it for another day, since I do not see the need to do budget maneuvering to celebrate Valentine's Day.

This does not mean I do not appreciate it as a holiday; I am always looking for an excuse to bake dessert and when Grace is older and knows what is going on in the world, I want to give her (and the future littles) a big Valentine's Day balloon and put an enormous red or pink bow on her head.

But there will be no present exchanging, no special dinner, and no hype. There will only be extra kisses and a baby to fuss over, and hopefully mass in the morning, if ice stays away.

It is true that Valentine's Day-at-large celebrate general love, and is not merely for romantic love, and to look at Valentine's Day as such is narrow vision. I loved making and giving cards away to my classmates in grade school, and creating my very own mailbox out of a shoebox. And it is equally true how ridiculous it is to go to the grocery store in January and see stuffed bears holding hearts, and dozens of balloons, and dozens of roses, and all for one day. I would rather see those bears and hearts and balloons and roses available every day, rather than marked up drastically and dropped into the pit-of-sale! sale! sale! on February 15.

But is what we're looking for general love in society? Our openness to love seems to only be on certain terms: give and take.

Last year, I cried when my husband did not wish me a happy Valentine's day. I laugh now, and maybe I should blame it on the pregnancy hormones, but we were apart and he forgot. We had never celebrated it when we were dating or engaged, and I suppose I expected to celebrate it because St. Valentine is the patron saint of married couples, and finally, I felt like my time had come.

And what changed? you might ask. In my case, it was a reality check of sorts. A decision of what we celebrate and why. My husband the rationalist believes that if you do anything or believe anything, you must have a reason why. My whimsical mind likes to jump into the future, into possibility, and into loving everyone and everything around me.

I don't have a good reason for celebrating the secular Valentine's Day, except the want/need to eat heart-shaped cookies or red velvet cupcakes, buy balloons and dress Grace and myself in bright colors. And while I wouldn't mind flowers, what I mostly want to do on Valentine's Day is to acknowledge the gift of sex between married couples.

The Planned Parenthood signs twirling around the internet of #WhatWomenNeed for St. Valentine's Day had a lovely assortment provided to the organization Women Speak for Themselves, and here's mine:

Proper Education and Factual Information About Their Body

This post isn't about having babies or saying you should all have one (now! right now!); it's about natural family planning. It's about knowing your body and trusting yourself over a pill (a class 1 carcinogen), the only medication people take when their body is working correctly. It's about the best thing you can do in your marriage, together.

Before you roll your eyes and say that everyone who practices that are parents, you should know that I believe the strongest cause for objection is out of fear; and while I understand those fears, I also know that NFP is the best thing for marriage. Even when I give you the reasons, perhaps you'll think, I already have those down pat with my spouse. And maybe you do. But organic sex is like eating organic food - once you know the taste, anything else seems second-rate.

Firstly, nothing says "I love you, all of you" like NFP. Women's fertility is a cycle, and one that can be clearly charted if you take the time to learn the signs. It is an opinion to say cervical mucus is gross - it is a fact to say cervical mucus is the body's way of telling you when you can (or cannot, if you abstain) get pregnant. Ditto goes for temperature, sensation and peeing in a cup (all other methods of NFP).

Hey girl... I love you just the way you are.

There is no need to take cough medicine every day to prevent a cough, just like there is no reason to take birth control every day (or have is physically present in your body) to prevent pregnancy. A woman can only become pregnant 5-6 days a month. She is not constantly fertile like a man; and yet the woman has to take the drug to suppress her fertility.

More than the clinical side, though, there is a freedom in the mutual love-making, and the mutual giving. There is an intimacy and warmth of a couple who shares equally in knowledge and decision-making. There is love in valuing the fertility of both parties - loving the whole person. There is nothing contraceptive in mindset or in actions when participating in NFP; each person is totally open in love, in understanding, and in generosity.

Then, there's the abstinence, if you're TTA (trying to avoid). Will and I did that over our honeymoon, and it provided us with a lot of time to discuss why we were avoiding. NFP is not a default - married couples, in their vows, promise to be open to children. Will and I decided that we did not have a serious reason to avoid becoming pregnant; and we did, even though it was a 20 percent chance.

Natural, no health-risks and a 98.6 percent effectiveness rating aside, Will and I practice NFP because couples who do have a less than 5 percent divorce rate. The reason for that is the amazing communication skills a couple must develop. It's not just about already having the necessary "skills" - it's a willingness and an openness to having a tough conversation, to being honest, and to giving and accepting love, not giving and taking. NFP is pure vulnerability, and it's pushed me and tried me and helped me love Will the best way I can, and for the best reasons. NFP is not a good in itself, but it is walk worth taking, and a discussion worth having.

Valentine's Day is one day out of the year; in the scheme of things, it seems like a fine day to remind ourselves to love a little more. But love looks different in the lens of marriage and parenthood when there is more on the line - when your heart surges because your baby just pooped and your husband is going to change it so you can keep type-type-typing. Fixing dinner to nourish your loved ones; decorating the town house because it's our home; sweet kisses and a gurgling baby who has discovered how to make loud bubbles using her tongue and lips.

This year, when you're celebrating love, start celebrating an openness to love, and toast to the grand adventure that is an ordinary, beautiful life.

**
Tweet, tweet

Life Is Pain, Highness!

A few weeks ago, at Grace's four month appointment, she received five vaccines, four of which were shots into her chunky thighs. As she braved the doubly shots per legs, crying out and trusting her mother as I cooed, held her head and stroked her belly, I thought of the part in Princess Bride when the Man in Black (Wesley) says, "Life is pain, highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something!"

In Jen Fulwiler's article on "The 7 Habits People Who Place Radical Trust in God", I was struck by the first one - they accept suffering.

Suffering takes on many faces - the physically suffering, through maladies and disease and addiction; the emotional suffering of the lonely, sad and uncared for; the perceived suffering of injustice and abuse; the suffering of staring at a wall and not know which direction one should go.

I vaccinate my child because there are some things I can prevent, namely, diseases which used to routinely kill people. For everything else, I can only teach Grace and be there for her. I cannot, for instance, take away her teething pain. I cannot take away her sobs when she's scared and alone in her crib, even when I lean in to rub her belly and coo. Will and I are in the beginning stages of teaching Grace self-soothing.

Self-soothing "is the ability to provide comfort to yourself when you are in pain or in an uncomfortable emotional state," writes Julianna Lyddon, in her small book "Raising A Happy Spirit: The Inner Wisdom of Parenting". She goes on to say,

"Parents want to control the situation because they don't want to see their child in pain or discomfort. Life is painful at times and the best way to support children is by teaching them to calm themselves. Children who learn self-soothing behaviors will have a life with less stress and anxiety because they know how to calm themselves in difficult situations."

I remember the weight of realizing I had lost a friend because he was dating his now-wife; I remember realizing that I was not supposed to be living in Columbus - it was not where God wanted me; I remember when I almost did not return to college because of unexpected financial problems - or before that, of my loneliness while surrounded by friends, and how I didn't want to go back; I remember when my aunt died, and I couldn't go home for the funeral, and how I had to cry hundreds of miles away; I remember the misery of spiritual attacks; I remember facing two roads with Will, and having to pick one and not look back.

Self-soothing is more than helping a baby sleep at night, or picking a child up after they fell down and saying, "Okay! Not too bad. Let's keep playing!" It's us too, the adults. The adults who also have trouble sleeping, still cry, still get hangry (angry when hungry), still want to be held, still want to be told "It's all going to be okay!", still want to be unconditionally loved even if we make a mess of things.

Perhaps the bravest thing we can each do is live our life as ourselves. Have boundaries with people who tempt us into conformity. Respect everyone, even when you do not like them. And do not suffer needlessly - when you are in pain, look to the crucifix. When you are lonely, talk to Jesus. When you are overwhelmed, pray for peace.

Edith Stein (St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross) wrote, "And when night comes, and retrospect shows that everything was patchwork and much which one had planned left undone, when so many things rouse shame and regret, then take all as it is, lay it in God's hands, and offer it up to him, actually to rest, and to begin the new day like a new life."

Life is not so two-dimensional that this world alone can satisfy. There is always going to be suffering, even if it's bleary-eyed days and a teething baby (for me). It is in my suffering that I most know it is time to ask for help, time to turn off social media, time to take a walk outside, and time to listen more than I speak. It is in my suffering that I understand what it means to be human: to feel, to know, to love, to cheer and comfort, and to soothe, when necessary, ourselves and others. 

Showing Up: Santa and the Saints

TBM Topic #36: Feast Days and Holidays

Growing up, I remember Christmas Eves of past, staring out the window of my bedroom, waiting to see the silhouette of Santa and his reindeer cross over the moon. Then Christmas would happen, Santa would eat all the cookies, there would be family all around, and we'd keep the tree up for another couple weeks, until the approach of Lent shamed us into taking all the holly down.

The real fun, however, was in Advent. The grand preparations for the feast of Christ's birth as we set up the Nativity scene, lit the Advent candles, said our prayers and ate our meals. We celebrated the feast of St. Nick and read from the gospel of Luke. We fixed plates upon plates of white chocolate and festive M&Ms covered pretzels for our teachers.

After watching Bonnie's video, I realized that my holidays I had growing up were minimal on the liturgical living scale and perhaps more focused on Santa and his crew, but my parents taught me the importance of Christ's coming, the story of the Nativity, the unimportance of presents, the gift of gratitude, and a thankful heart.

Santa Does Not Take Away from Jesus

Santa Claus, whether he is in the form of St. Nick the Heresy Puncher or the Jolly Fat Man Who Delivers Gifts, is part of our culture. As Mary (our Lord's mother) is frequently a red herring for idolatry, so Santa is a red herring for a lack of reverence at Christmas. Is it Santa's fault that people sing "Here Comes Santa Claus" and not "Here Comes the Christ Child (right down Christ Child Lane)!"? Santa appeals to a wider audience because of his inherent goodness and generosity. He freely gives presents away to boys and girls of the world -- and it is us consumers who have made him an idol of the season.

As I've written before, I do not think there is a dichotomy between Santa and Jesus the Infant, because they are on two different levels of the season. Santa Claus is part of a child's imagination, the personification of goodness. Jesus Christ is love, and for those who do not know him, Santa Claus can be a gateway. Is Santa a substitute for Christ? Absolutely not. A harmless addition to a Christian feast day which has also become a cultural holiday? Yes. Let Santa be the gift-giver who keeps on giving, and share the message of Christ to help him better permeate the culture.

A Saint's Feast Day = Mini Fourth of July

Think of the holidays, as a country, we celebrate. There are three days of obligation between the start of Advent and the Epiphany: the Immaculate Conception (December 8), Christmas (December 25) and Mary, the Mother of God (January 1).

Other feast days:
December 3 - St. Francis Xavier
December 6 - St. Nicholas
December 9 - Blessed Juan Diego 
December 12 - Our Lady of Guadalupe 
December 13 - St. Lucy
December 14 - St. John of the Cross 
December 26 - St. Stephen 
December 27 - St. John the Evangelist
December 28 - The Holy Innocents 
December 30 - The Holy Family 
January 4 - St. Elizabeth Ann Seton 
January 6 - The Epiphany

First Sunday after the Epiphany - The Baptism of Our Lord (end of the Christmas season)

The saints of Advent are more brothers and sisters to invite to your holiday parties. They have awesome stories to tell, they give assistance in our times of need, and we can celebrate their lives just as we celebrate birthdays, the birth of our country, the birth of our Lord, and new years and beginnings.

The Importance of Showing Up

The shepherds came to see Jesus; the Magi came to see Jesus; the practicing and the lackadaisical go to Mass to see our Lord. And that's important. In Brene Brown's Daring Greatly, she tells the story of her daughter not wanting to swim in the heat her coach put her in; her daughter didn't think she could win, and everyone would be watching:

This was an opportunity to move the levers--to refine what's important to her. To make our family culture more influential that the swim meet, her friends, and the ultracompetitive sports culture that is rampant in our community. I looked at her and said, "You can scratch that event. I'd probably consider that option too. But what if that race isn't to win or even to get out of the water at the same time as the other girls? What if your goal is to show up and get wet? ... Sometimes the bravest and most important thing you can do is show up."

I used to wonder at the end of Harry Potter, when J.K. Rowling wrote that Harry and Dudley sat with each other tersely every holiday, and it's beautiful. Hospitality and the opening of one's heart towards the welfare of others can only be fulfilled when another sees the good in that time spent together.

For many, when it comes to Mass and spending time with the Lord, it can be a struggle. Maybe it's boring. Maybe there's too much singing. But mostly, I suspect, the relationship is weak. We cannot expect to feel a strong connection with God if we do not show up and spend time with him; if we do not pray and talk to him; if we focus on negativity and not on the possibility of falling in love.

The opportunity to spend time with the Lord is here, and Christmas is when we celebrate his entrance into the world as a baby, completely vulnerable. Christmas is a time for us all to show up.

Gratitude and Thanks-giving

But let us not forget the presents in the midst of his Presence. Feast days and holidays are opportunities for food sharing and gift giving. There can be excess of both, and a belittlement of thoughtfulness. If we learn anything from the saints, it is the ability to accept the gifts God has given us. Be they spiritual, physical or cultivated virtues, the gifts one has should be regularly appreciated.

Nothing is guaranteed in this life, and the holidays seem to be prime ground for pettiness and poking our loved ones. Instead of reassuring one another of our love and building the walls of trust higher, we look for cracks and find reasons to grumble. Instead of replying back to a "funny joke" with a biting jab, think, "Is this the hill I wish to die on?"

One way to fight back against bitterness is to count your blessings - literally. Embrace your inner Pollyanna, smile to show your gratitude, say "thank you" often, have an accountability partner, and pray. When we start to consciously focus on the positives, the negatives fade faster and neatly away.

The reason for the season is renewal - the birth of the Lord, the bringing peace into the world. There will never be an end of conflict as sin continues to ravage this weary world, but we can love at home, as Blessed Mother Teresa said in her Nobel Peace prize acceptance speech:

"You too try to bring that presence of God in your family, for the family that prays together stays together. And I think that we in our family don't need bombs and guns, to destroy to bring peace - just get together, love one another, bring that peace, that joy, that strength of presence of each other in the home. And we will be able to overcome all the evil that is in the world. 

There is so much suffering, so much hatred, so much misery, and we with our prayer, with our sacrifice are beginning at home. Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do, but how much love we put in the action that we do. It is to God Almighty - how much we do it does not matter, because He is infinite, but how much love we put in that action. How much we do to Him in the person that we are serving."

In perspective, whether we celebrate Santa or only discuss Christ; whether we make cookies or buy them from the store; whether we live liturgically or just try to live in imitation of Christ -- if we do not live in love, if we do not love our families, and if we do not forgive ourselves to failing to live up to our own standards, then we miss the opportunity to know Christ better, which is what every day alive is really about.

{See the FB page for more! Happy feast of the Holy Family!}

Do You Try Too?

From Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury (Douglas' best friend has just moved away): 

"Tom," said Douglas, "just promise me one thing, okay?"
"It's a promise. What?"
"You may be my brother and maybe I hate you sometimes, but stick around, all right?"
"You mean you'll let me follow you and the older guys when you go on hikes?"
"Well... sure... even that. What I mean is, don't go away, huh? Don't let any cars run over you or fall off a cliff."
"I should say not! Whatta you think I am, anyway?"

"'Cause if worst comes to worst, and both of us are real old - say
forty or forty-five some day - we can own a gold mine out West and sit
there smoking corn silk and growing beards."
"Growing beards! Boy!"
"Like I say, you stick around and don't let nothing happen."
"You can depend on me," said Tom.
"It's not you I worry about," said Douglas. "It's the way God runs the world."
Tom thought about this for a moment.
"He's all right, Doug," said Tom. "He tries."