As I missed doing my “7 Quick Takes Friday” and my “Monday Morning Miscellany” last week, today I find myself overflowing with tidbits to share with you good people. I may even have to split them into a couple of posts, because too much miscellany is just… silly. We’ll see.

— 1 —

Brennan and I attended a wedding on Friday evening, which was held at the same waterfront location as our own wedding reception. It was so much fun to be back to the place where, four years ago, we had our first dance and our first meal as a married couple, and where we enjoyed the company of our family and friends on that momentous day.

This go-round was much more relaxing, I’ll have you know. It was great to get to enjoy the view and the delicious food (Lobster bisque served in martini glasses! Woo-hoo!) and laughs with friends, minus all the logistics swirling around in my brain. I love hosting, but sometimes it’s really nice to just be a guest.

— 2 —

Aren’t new babies the absolute sweetest? Yesterday we visited my best friend Catey and her crew to meet their newest addition. My almost-two-year-old threw a rather impressive meltdown and reacted with wild cries of “No baby!” when I held the tiny bundle. And my three-year-old made enough noise to make Catey’s downstairs neighbors likely want to evict her. But other than that, the visit was great.

I captured the one moment of their play that was peaceful.

He finally warmed up to the little guy.

Sweetness

— 3 —

Oh, just one more thing about the new-baby visit. As per custom and the bonds of friendship and Auntie Leila’s advice, I brought with me a dinner for Catey’s family. It was a homemade lasagna, which I lovingly prepared at my place the night before and assembled at Catey’s. It’s a delicious recipe, if I do say so myself. (Not that I can take credit for the recipe, which is “Hearty Meat Lasagna” from “The New Best Recipe” from the editors of Cook’s Illustrated.) Anyway, normally I hand it over and smile and say, “Enjoy!” But this time I had to temper my “Enjoy!” with, “But please look carefully at each bite you’re taking because it might contain bits of plastic.”

When I was preparing the lasagna the night before, I made a double batch so we could have one at my house too. As my husband eagerly dug into it at dinnertime, he found two small pieces of plastic. And then when I was eating leftovers on Sunday night, I found a third. They resemble the plastic that covered the meat or the ricotta containers, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out how that could have made it into the lasagna. I’m stumped! And I worry for all of our digestive systems! (But not so much that I’ve considered throwing the lasagna out. It’s way too good for that.) My only comfort is that, so far, Catey reports that their lasagna has been plastic-free.

— 4 —

Warning: This is one that probably no one will care about but myself. Nobody wants to read about other people’s aches and pains, right? So feel free to skip right over. I only include it because I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about this problem. So, on the blog it goes!

While lying in bed the other night, trying to get comfortable, I had an idea for an invention that would improve my life dramatically. You see, I have these two stupid, stubborn physical flaws/defects/problems/whatever that get in my way:

On the one hand (literally), I have this pinched nerve in my neck, which travels all the way down my arm to my hand. When I lie on my right side, or trap my right arm under myself in any way, or even hold my arm in anything but the one most ideal, relaxing position for it, my hand falls asleep. And if I don’t catch it in time, my whole arm falls asleep. Which is really painful. The only way I can avoid this is to lie on my left side, with my right arm stretched out just right.

But on the other hand, I have this stupid hip thing. The joint at the base of my spine, between my hips, is very easily put out of whack. Which is also really painful. During the day (per my old physical therapist’s instructions), I put a lot of effort into protecting the joint by moving around in a very deliberate, balanced way. (Which makes me look rather geriatric, I’m sure.)

The sleeping on the left side thing, however, is messing up my hips! The pressure from sleeping on that one side, all night, every night, is affecting the joint in such a way that I have difficulty walking when I wake up. And I have pain. Not from doing something irresponsible with my back, mind you – but from sleeping. It’s maddening! I suppose I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

That’s where the invention (the out-there, weirdo invention) comes in. What if I could sleep in some device that supported me in a cushion of air? What if I could program it with the exact position I wanted to sleep in, and then it could – seemingly like magic – keep me there, without causing undue pressure on my arms or my hips, etc.? I have no real idea as to how such a thing would actually be accomplished, but I do know that if it were, my body would be supremely grateful. Wouldn’t it be amazing to not be woken every night by the pain of my arm and hand falling asleep – and also to be able to walk without pain every morning? A girl can dream…

— 5 —

That was long. Here’s a cute picture from last night to make up for it. They’re giving each other rides on top of the cooler.

— 6 —

Speaking of “damned” (it’s up there toward the end of #4), we went to visit my parents a week ago and took an alternate route to get to them. It involved driving over a dam, so I explained to the boys what a dam was and told them to look out for the different levels of water on each side of it. Our three-year-old was fascinated. He loved it. And he went on to talk about it (on and on and on) as “that dam bwidge.” Days later it was still popping up in his conversation, innocent little mentions of “that dam bwidge” at random times. I won’t deny giggling every time he said it.

— 7 —

And speaking of inventions (also in #4), I have one more idea to share with you. I’ve been thinking about this one for a long time. You know how nice-ish housing developments (at least in this part of the country) seem to always have some kind of unnecessary room on their floor plans, which look great on paper, but nobody seems to use (at least not for their intended purpose)? Maybe it’s a breakfast room when there’s already an eat-in kitchen; maybe it’s a sun room; maybe it’s a sitting room in the master bedroom; maybe it’s a home theater. Maybe it’s as simple as the formal living room or dining room. Whatever it is, the designated purpose for the room is rather unnecessary and the room often gets left by the wayside.

You know what would be so much better for families with children, at least? A padded room. A padded, bouncy room where mom can send the kids at 5pm while she’s making dinner. Or where the kiddos can go for exercise when it’s too rainy/snowy/cold to send them outside. A place for the children to just go and be as wild and crazy as they like, with minimal chances of hurting themselves or the contents of the house. Wouldn’t that be amazing? I’ve spent an obscene amount of time fantasizing about it.

And the padded/bouncy room wouldn’t just have to be for new construction homes. You know those commercials where companies advertise their ability to add a sunroom to your house in a ridiculously short period of time, for not much money? Let’s start seeing the ads for padded/bouncy rooms! They can’t be too difficult to construct, can they? Air the ads every ten minutes during the witching hour – you’ll have parents racing to the phone to sign up.

— 8 —

Our big guy starts preschool tomorrow! Here’s what he looked like when he woke up at ten minutes before ten this morning. Yep, we’ve done a really good job of adjusting our schedule in advance of the big first day.

— 9 —

Believe it or not, I still have more miscellany to share. But I’ll save it for another post. I think we’ve passed the point of silly. Happy Labor Day to you all! Have a great (and hopefully short) work-week!

In my neck of the woods, today is The First Day Of School. (Perhaps I should have put that in all caps.) My Facebook feed is alight with pictures of smiling/nervous children, all of them super cute. None of them are from our household – our 3-year-old doesn’t start preschool until next week. To mark the occasion, though, I thought I’d write up a few my thoughts, provide a couple of links, and ask all you good people for a little advice on sending off my own little one next week.

1) I never gave too much thought to it before, but now that I’m looking at this first-day-of-school thing from a parent’s perspective, it’s dawning on me that it sometimes if not most-of-the-times has a greater impact on the parents than it does on the child. I know, all of you experienced parents out there are saying, “Umm… of course it does. How could you have missed something so obvious?” But I did. I’m having a little “aha” moment right now and wondering how I’ll be feeling in two year’s time when my big boy goes off to kindergarten.

2) Given all the angst and worrying that my friends seem to be going through right now, I think someone should initiate the tradition of the First-Day-Of-School-Brunchtime-Happy-Hour. Who’s in?

3) Kathryn Whitaker over at Team Whitaker had a post last week called To The First-Time School Mom. She offers some great words of advice/comfort, which can be boiled down to two phrases: “Be proud of your kid.” and “Chill.” And she also confesses that she messed up her own first child’s first day of school – by dropping him off at school 30 whole minutes late. And crying about it to her mother on the phone as she drove him in. So, perk up, friends! From what I’ve seen so far on Facebook, your kids all got there in time.

4) My friend Krista, who just sent her first child off to kindergarten, had a sweet post yesterday on the momentous occasion. The Soldiers Marched to War – check it out.

5) Given all the Facebook chatter about the beginning of the school year, our own preparations for preschool, and all my Catholic mommy blog reading, I’ve been thinking a lot about what kind of educational experiences I want for my boys. My husband and I have a lot of thinking to do in the next couple of years: public schools, Catholic schools, homeschooling? Which is going to be right for us? So much to think about…

6) For the past month, my own little guy has been insisting just about every single day that this is the day he gets to go to “freefool.” “No, not yet,” I’ve had to reply each time: “Not for another month,” or “Not for a few more weeks.” But now that I’m saying, “Next week!” I’m starting to get a little jittery. Is he ready? In some ways, he’s readier than most – he’s dying to go, he loves being surrounded by people, and he’s not afraid of new experiences. But in other ways, I’m not so sure. Does the kid have his ABC’s and numbers down pat? Nope, but I’m not too worried about that. He’ll figure it out.

What’s worrying me more is, how will he handle unpleasant interactions with his classmates? The child is pretty sensitive, and though he regularly engages in vigorous tussles with his brother over toys and games and me, he’s had very little experience of conflict with other children. The few times that other children on the playground have spurned his efforts to play with them, he’s burst into heartbreaking, pathetic tears. So yes, I’m a little nervous about how this is going to go.

7) On a more practical level, I’m looking for some ideas and words of wisdom from you more experienced parents on the things that we need to work on this week, in anticipation of next week. Here’s what we’re already working on:

1. His name. We call both of our boys by their middle names, so the poor kids hardly (or don’t at all, in the case of the little guy) know what their real first names are. Lately we’ve been pounding away at it with our 3-year-old: “What is your whole name? No, your whole name?” I’m sure somebody’s going to call out his first name at some point and he’ll think to himself, “John? Who’s that guy?”
2. Our names. It’s occurred to me that as he’ll be spending his first regular, substantial time away from us, he should know what his parents’ non-“Mommy” and “Daddy” names are. So we’ve been doing a lot of “What’s Mommy’s name? What’s Daddy’s name?”
3. Our address. What do you think about this one? I’ve done a bit of it, but I’m not convinced it’s as important as the above.
4. Morning routine. We’re late risers here. Apologies to all of you whose children get up at ungodly hours, but my boys regularly don’t rise until 8 or 9 or (ahem) 10:00. As school will start at 9:00, we have a major adjustment to make. This week we’re practicing getting up at 7:00 and being ready to leave by 8:30.
5. Bathroom routine. The little guy is potty-trained at this point, but we’re working on the (shall I say) finishing touches. He’s got to know how to do everything by himself and he’s almost there. Almost. But not quite.
6. Eating. My friends and family already know that my boys have a strange gagging thing that prevents them from eating the types of foods/sizes of bites that 12-month-old babies in other families have already mastered. I can’t tell you how worried I am that somebody will give my boy a carrot stick at snack time and he’ll proceed to choke on it. So I’m working on teaching him to chew, chew, chew; to take small bites; and to refuse foods that are too difficult for him to eat.

8) That’s it! That’s all I can think to work on. Oh, you more experienced parents, what else should we be working on right now?

Thanks for your input! Have a great first week of school, everyone! (And let me know, anybody who wants to take part in the First-Day-Of-School-Brunchtime-Happy-Hour, 2015. We’ll start planning now.)

Surely, he must still be this little. He can’t really be old enough to start preschool!

— 1 —

I finally got my abortion post up yesterday. (On Abortion: Paul Ryan and Two Simple Questions) You know, that one I was trying to write three weeks ago when my 3-year-old thwarted my efforts, pushing me over the edge and into anger-induced, flabby laps across the backyard to blow off steam? The crabbiness of the event lingered, attaching itself to the piece, so I stepped away from it for a week or so. Then I opened it up and tweaked, and waited, and tweaked some more, and then I finally just said to myself, “Enough! Post the thing already!” It’s a brilliant method of writing, don’t you think?

— 2 —

As I did last week, I’d like to pause for a moment to recognize those killed in the horrible fighting in Egypt. And, sadly, those who were killed by or who are suffering the effects of the chemical attack(s) in Syria. I hope you’ll join me in praying for these and other victims of violence, wherever they may be.

— 3 —

I normally try to share a couple of compelling/interesting/challenging NPR segments from my weekly kitchen listening, but this week I don’t have much to offer you in that department. I haven’t been listening to the radio as much lately and it seems like whenever I do turn it on, they’re talking about Bradley Manning. I am so tired of Bradley Manning…

But I do have one sweet little segment to share with you. Nice and sweet – Journey Of The Ring: Lost In WWII, Now Back With POW’s Son. Enjoy!

— 4 —

We have a pretty large house and one of the questions I get most frequently about it is, “How do you keep it clean?” The honest answer is: I don’t. We pretty much only clean when we’re expecting company. I wish that were an exaggeration, but it’s not.

Until a couple of months ago, I did a decently good job of keeping the house (or at least the main floor) tidy – toys picked up, dishes done, etc. (And we all know there’s a big difference between tidy and clean, right?) But since summer hit, all bets have been off: bags lying around partially unpacked for weeks, papers (And receipts! Why are there always so many stupid receipts?!) piling up on every kitchen surface, ever-growing seas of dusty toys lodged under the sofas, and an ever-present mix of more and more toys waiting around to be stepped on.

It’s gotten really bad.

But. Last weekend we had a party at our house for my husband’s friends. So we cleaned. Or rather, Brennan cleaned. (He’s good at it.) I tidied. (I’m good at that.) We got the house looking pretty darned good. And like I do every time our house looks nice from hosting a party, I said to myself, “I’m never going to let the house get dirty, ever again.”

Um… need I spell out what happened next?

No complaints about this. This kind of clutter, I love.

— 5 —

I rarely run out of things to say, so I’m always like, “Seven Quick Takes? How about a dozen? Haha!” But this week, I’m running through what we did, what I thought, what interested me, and… coming up short. Hm.

— 6 —

How about some funny sayings from my 3-year-old? Will that do?

One morning after he ran onto the porch, stopped in the doorway, and ran back in: “Da sun said, You weady to come outside? I said, nope! I need some cwoves!” (clothes)

Another morning, he kept pointing at the top of the previous night’s pizza box and repeatedly shout/asked, “What dem goin’ have for bweakfast?!” When I finally realized he was talking about the drawings of two people on the box, I told him, “They’re just drawings. Why don’t you imagine what they’re going to have for breakfast?” He replied, “Wine. Dem goin’ have wine.” (I swear he does not know that by example!)

One evening when I told Brennan that our little guy been a good boy that day, he told his father that “Mommy was a good boy too.”

One meal when he was messing around and caused his cup to fall off the table (a perpetual problem in our household), I told him, “You are not allowed to drop your cup off the table! Do Daddy and I drop our cups off the table?” He replied, “But we’re boys! We wash our hands and bwush our teef every night!” (Perfect logic, hm?)

One afternoon, I put him in time-out for throwing a train at his little brother’s head. (His aim is good.) As usual, I had him apologize when I brought him out of time-out. But as I was walking away, I heard him tell his brother, “I so NOT sowwy, Jude.”

The victim

Now that I think about it, these lines represent the arc of our week pretty well. Monday and Tuesday, the boys were really good, oh-my-goodness-my-children-are-so-good good. And sweet and gentle… And then? Wednesday and Thursday hit along with a big dose of Bad Boy for the older one, at least. By Thursday evening I was sorely tempted to throw them in the car and just drive and drive and ignore everything (including their yelling and whining and roars) but the road. No destination in mind. How will Friday end up? It didn’t start so well, but my threat to the bigger boy that he’d be spending the day in bed if he didn’t shape up seems to be bearing fruit. So far. We’ll see!

The culprit

— 7 —

Number 5 aside, I purposefully saved the best news for last: On Wednesday afternoon my best friend Catey and her husband Eric welcomed their newest bundle of joy into the world. Little Owen Casimir Williams weighed in at a lucky 7lbs, 11 oz. (I say lucky because 7/11 happens to be my anniversary.) He and his lovely Mommy appear to be doing well. Welcome to the world, little O! We’re so happy you’re here!

Now, go see Jen and all the rest of the Quick Takes crew!

— 1 —

A childhood friend posted a link to this painting on my Facebook Timeline the other day, saying that it reminded her of a young me:

Certainly, I’m very flattered by the comparison. (Thanks, Sarah!) Especially after that whole weight insecurity thing. But it also gave me a little laugh, because it reminded me of an exchange I had my freshman year of college with a classmate whom I didn’t know well at the time. It went something like this:

Her: (From halfway across a public space at the college, with a few other people milling around) “You know, Julie, you look like an old painting.”
Me:
Her: “I mean, in a good way – you know, the old Flemish masters and stuff.”
Me: “Oh, thanks. That’s… that’s very nice of you.”
Me: (Internally) “I’m 18 years old and I was just compared to an old painting. Not exactly what I was going for. But… those paintings are really very beautiful… I’ll take it.”

— 2 —

Can you believe that it’s mid-August and my boys and I were all wearing long pants and long-sleeved shirts to the park the other evening? And we were comfortable? Crazy stuff. It should be, like 100 degrees and oppressively muggy right now. But instead we’ve got this gloriousness:

Clear and cool (I don’t know, maybe it was in the low ‘70’s while we were out?), with this lovely low-humidity thing going on. I know that plenty of you want some more beach/pool weather before the summer’s out, but I’m really enjoying this little October preview. I mean, we got to go to the park without being terrorized by mosquitos! In August!

— 3 —

Yesterday my friends Betsy and Kristina came over for a little playdate and we sang to our four little boys who celebrate summer(ish) birthdays. Between the three of us we have two boys who just turned three, two who just (about) turned two… and then two more who will turn one in about six months’ time. Isn’t fun to have little ones who pair off like that? And aren’t they just so darned cute?

— 4 —

One of my Facebook friends, a Lutheran minister with whom I’ve been friends since we were children, posted the following the other day:

Tonight I am supremely grateful for the gift of reconciliation, and for the transformative power of forgiveness.

I don’t know her post’s context (and I hope she won’t mind me stealing it!), but I think it bears remembering. How often do we really think about reconciliation and forgiveness? Perhaps we Catholics think of it in the context of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, but do we think of it when it comes to our relationships with the people in our lives? Do we think of it in a broader sense, insofar as it relates to our differences and difficulties with people of other communities, faiths, nations, etc.?

— 5 —

Speaking of differences and difficulties, can we just stop for a moment and say a prayer for the people of Egypt? And perhaps another one for the Egyptians who have been targeted for their Coptic Christian faith? More than 600 people were killed on Wednesday, thousands were injured, important Coptic churches were destroyed… Such sadness, such heartache, such a waste. Let’s not let it go by unacknowledged.

— 6 —

Two of my dearest friends are on the cusp of welcoming their second little boy into their families. (And coincidentally, they have both chosen the same first name for their sons – which I won’t write here, because I can’t remember whether they’ve announced it publicly!) My best friend Catey is due to have her baby boy this weekend or the beginning of next week. My friend Diana will leave this weekend with her family to fly to South Korea to adopt their newest little guy. It’s been interesting to talk with them both over the many months they have been awaiting their sons’ arrival, noting the similarities between pregnancy and the adoption process.

There is, of course, the eagerness to become pregnant or to be matched with a child in the first place. There is anxiety over whether the pregnancy will last and be healthy, whether the adoption will proceed successfully. Sometimes there are setbacks; there are nearly always discomforts. But there is also an abiding love for the child in question and an eagerness to take him into your arms, your home, your life. As you near the end of your wait, fear creeps in: Will all go according to plan? Will this child really arrive safely? Will we be able to bring him home? How will we all (perhaps especially our older child) adjust to having a new member of the family? How will our new child adjust to us?

Here’s to both of you, Catey and Diana. Here’s an anticipatory little “Congratulations!” Here’s a pat on the back for a job very well done, a big hug, a wish of good luck, and many prayers. You are both fabulous mothers to your darling little guys and you’ll be fabulous mothers to their very lucky little brothers too. I send gobs of love to you and your families.

— 7 —

As I do so many weeks, I’m going to wrap up with some humor courtesy of my three-year-old:

(Pointing at his little brother) “Dat’s my chicken. He’s a superhero wit me.”

After I realized that he’d just leapt from the coffee table onto the bare hardwood floor, some five feet away:
Me: “WHAT are you DOING?!? You are not allowed on the table! You are not allowed to jump off it!”
Him: “But I want to fwy yike a bird!”
Me: “You are NOT a bird, you are a HUMAN! You cannot fly!”
Him: “I just pwetendin’ be a bird. I pwetendin’ be a woodpepper.”

“I’m a farmer who takes care of cows! And bunnies, too. And twees in da forest.”

Him: “I’m not a big kid! I’m a gwown-up!”
Me: “You’re not a grown-up until you’re, like, twenty. You are only three.”
Him: “I NOT free!”
Me: “Well then, how old are you?”
Him: “Twenty.”

“I’m makin’ sure I’m healfy and safe!”

After I walked into the family room in response to his little brother’s screams: “I’d better go in time out.”

Now go see Jen and the rest of the Quick Takes Crew!

— 1 —

As my Facebook friends might have noticed, (“Thank goodness she’s no longer posting links to her stupid blog every day!”) I crashed hard on the blogging front after last week’s Epic Blogging Challenge. I eked out a little wrap-up by way of my Monday Morning Miscellany, and then I took a break. I’d been hoping to fit in at least one post before 7 Quick Takes Friday, but no go. “No-go” in a dramatic Julie meltdown kind of way:

Wednesday I found myself with some unexpected quiet time due to two little boys being such tired messes that I put them both down for naps. (The 3-year-old almost never naps anymore; I only succeeded in getting him to sleep this time because I bribed him with ice cream.) So I used part of my break to start writing a post I’ve been planning in my head for some time, on… (do you hear the ominous thunder?) …abortion. It’s a topic that requires some careful, quiet consideration, is it not?

But do little boys care about writing that requires quiet, concentration, and more quiet? Absolutely not.  So on Thursday, when I’d planned to spend a couple of hours finishing and posting the piece, my 3-year-old very slyly ruined my plans in that most maddening of ways: bit by bit. The 22-month-old went down without a hitch and slept for FOUR hours! (What a tease!) But his older brother got to stay up because he was behaving decently and promised to play quietly (HA!) so I could write in peace.

I won’t bore you with the details; I’ll just say that all the noise and the sporadic interruptions and the questions and the following me from room-to-room and the unwillingness to just be quiet, already drove me up the wall. In that slow, simmering way that leads you (or maybe just me) to finally boil over all at once. After getting done in three hours what I should have gotten done in 30 minutes, I lost it: I banished the kid to the parlor (Yep, we have a “parlor;” I’ll explain another time), realized I was too angry to keep writing, and went outside to take some of my own mommy advice and run laps across the backyard. Or rather, I dashed one way across the yard and then dragged my sorry, out-of-shape self slowly back the other way. Several times. It must have been quite a sight to see.

Then I came inside, sat the kid in front of the TV, and poured myself a glass of wine.

— 2 —

Oh, and do you know what he proceeded to do just minutes later? Yep, fall asleep at the table.

It was like there was this big neon sign flashing at me: YOU SHOULD HAVE PUT HIM DOWN FOR A NAP!

— 3 —

Have I mentioned about a million times that my boys are wrestlers? Like, every day, everywhere, with everyone wrestlers. Here are some recent examples:

So now do you see why I feel like I deserve some quiet time every once in a while?!?!

— 4 —

Usually when we go grocery shopping, the three-year-old gets to hand over my Safeway card. It makes him happy and the checkers think it’s cute. But the other day I made a quick trip to the grocery store sans children. (Cue heavenly chorus.) After I loaded up the belt, I handed the very polite, clean-cut, shy-looking teenage boy my card. And then I proceeded to load it back into my wallet, search my purse for my keys, and… walk away. “Umm, Ma’am? You need to pay.”

I was pretty embarrassed. I mean, how ridiculous is it that my excuse was that I did not have my two toddlers with me at the time? That handing the checker my Safeway card by myself tricked my feeble little brain into thinking I’d actually paid the guy?

— 5 —

I thought this article (“How to keep Millennials in the church? Let’s keep church un-cool.”) from Wednesday’s Washington Post was interesting, and the last paragraph especially so:

As a Millennial, if I’m truly honest with myself, what I really need from the church is not another yes-man entity enabling my hubris and giving me what I want. Rather, what I need is something bigger than me, older than me, bound by a truth that transcends me and a story that will outlast me; basically, something that doesn’t change to fit me and my whims, but changes me to be the Christ-like person I was created to be.

The author seems to have been writing with evangelical Protestants in mind, but his sentiment certainly fits with most of the (practicing) Catholic young adults I know. (And yes, with my own viewpoint.) I keep hearing anecdotally that the faiths that are attracting and retaining young people are the ones with more orthodox teachings and traditional liturgical styles. I would be interested in reading any studies on the topic that might be out there. (Know of any? Send them my way!)

— 6 —

As per usual, I have an NPR program to point you to, though this week’s recommendation comes with the caveat that I haven’t actually heard it yet: The radio signal was going all crazy Wednesday night when I was trying to listen to listen to the program. I heard part of the introduction (which sounded super interesting), but the static ended up being too much to ignore. Maybe later I’ll pull it up on the computer while I wash all those dishes I’ve got sitting around.

The program, “What Would Lawrence Of Arabia Say Today?” was on NPR’s On Point:

Much of the Arab world looks like a terrible mess these days. And much of the mess goes back a century. To the end of the Ottoman Empire. The end of World War I.  Britain and France drawing imperial lines across a desert map.

And in the midst of it all, young T.E. Lawrence — Lawrence of Arabia. He did not like what he saw coming in the victor’s boundaries laid across tribes and sects.

It’s all come back to haunt.

This hour, On Point: A new biography puts the lens of Lawrence of Arabia on the Arab world today.

I track the news from the Middle East with so much sadness these days. Syria, Egypt: what impossible, tragic situations. I am generally a very optimistic person, but there… I just don’t see a lot of hope for real and lasting improvements in those countries. It seems like one possible “solution” is worse than the next.  And there’s always Afghanistan… and now Iraq is making its way back into the news… I look forward to listening to this program for some more perspective on the region; maybe I’ll check out the book too.

— 7 —

Here’s a random, funny little note to leave you on – one of my favorite little tactics/tricks for getting the boys to willingly eat their breakfast and cut down on my breakfast prep work: Hand them a waffle and tell them it’s a cookie. (Or rather, because I’m supremely honest and I can’t bear to tell even that small of a white lie, I say the following with much excitement: “Do you want to eat your waffle whole, like it’s a cookie?”) They fall for it hook, line, and sinker.

Have a great weekend! Go visit Jen and the rest of the Quick Takes crew!

— 1 —

Well, I did it! I completed Jen’s 7 Posts in 7 Days: An Epic Blogging Challenge. As tired as I was upon our return from Minnesota, I think I did pretty well for the first five days. (I even wrote two posts on Tuesday.)

But then Saturday hit. I was just two posts shy of completing the Challenge and I was burnt out. I’m a slow writer, a perfectionist, and pretty much unable to think when I’m surrounded by noise and activity. (Which is just about every waking hour with two toddler boys in the house). So my boys watched a lot of television last week and I did not get much sleep. By the time the weekend rolled around, I really had to push myself through. I waited until the boys were in bed (or nearly so) to write, because I felt like they had reached their limit of mommy-in-front-of-the-computer time. (So I got even less sleep.) Last week’s pattern is most definitely not sustainable.

But on the bright side, the Challenge showed me that I’m capable of more writing than I’ve gotten in the habit of undertaking lately. It was easily the most I’ve written in one week since I left my job three years ago. And honestly, it felt great. So thanks, Jen, for encouraging everybody to undertake the Challenge. Maybe I’ll do it again someday. But, um… not anytime soon. Three to four posts a week? I think I can swing that.

— 2 —

I thought I’d list out the posts I wrote during the Challenge so you can see if there’s anything you missed. (Though maybe that’s not really why I’m listing them. It could be just because I like lists. And because I always feel more accomplished when I’ve written out what I’ve done.)

Monday – Monday Morning Miscellany, Vol. 2 — (Mostly a recap of our trip to Minnesota, but oddly enough, also a description of how we sold our house last year.)

Tuesday – On Authority — (An essay on, yes, authority. Its alternate titles were, “On Authority, Influence, Rebellion, And Obedience” or, “Why I Reject Fads But Accept Rules” or, “Okay, Fine – I Guess I Really Am A Dork.”)

Tuesday – A Tale of Two Soldiers — (A story of two WWII veterans from opposing sides: my stepfather-in-law and a perfect stranger whom I met years ago on a train platform in Germany.)

Wednesday – Five Favorites, Vol 3: Minnesota Edition — (Minnesota trip recap, part two.)

Thursday – A “Crazy” Good Night — (Musings on an evening of ideas and conversation with Auntie Leila of Like Mother, Like Daughter.)

Friday – 7 Quick Takes Friday, Vol. 8 — (An odd jumble of blog love, new babies, post-WWII horror, nursing homes, parades… and vomit. Sorry for the last one.)

Saturday – Friends Who Blog — (In which I talk about some of my friends and how we help each other… and how a bunch of them blog, too.)

Sunday – My World Youth Day — (Remembering my experience at the 2005 WYD in Cologne, Germany.)

— 3 —

If I had to pick just one of those posts for you to read, I’d go with A Tale of Two Soldiers.

— 4 —

I made one of our favorite dinners last night: Perfect Roast Chicken (with carrots, onion, thyme, and fennel). It is amazing. Amazing! I was clued in to the recipe by a brief mention Rachel Balducci made of it on her blog. I bless whatever impulse caused her to post it, because it became one of our favorites from the very first bites we tasted.

Sorry — no pretty platter last night. It was too late and we were too tired!

— 5 —

Here’s another of our current favorites: Slow Cooker Thai Pork With Peanut Sauce. (I was clued into this one by my friend Kristina.) The only drawback is that it’s so easy to make that I do so a little too frequently and my husband is starting to tire of it. I don’t want to, but I may need to give it a break for a while.

— 6 —

My 3-year-old, who has just finished potty training and is about to start preschool in September, has said a number of funny things this week:

While using the restroom after vociferously insisting that he didn’t need to: “Oh, I did need to go pee-pee! I sowwy, Daddy!” (This one has happened many times in the past couple of weeks.)

Sitting on the toilet for an extended period of time: “Watch out, Mommy! Es goin’ be dwangewous.”

In a public restroom, balling up a piece of toilet paper and preparing to throw it into the toilet that I was using at the moment: “Es for your pwactice, Mommy!” Me: “Sweetie, Mommy doesn’t need target practice.”

Every morning for the past 3-4 days: “I’m ready to go to school now!”

After (barely) bumping his head: “I huwt my head an I need to go in da ambwance!”

Walking along the many, many brick walls in our yard and along our driveway: “Don worry, Mommy. I’m in compwete contwol.”

Sorry it’s fuzzy — it’s the best I’ve got!

Have a great week, everyone!