Monday Morning Miscellany (Vol. 4)

— 1 —

Remember when I wrote about my Friends Who Blog a couple of weeks ago? Well, my friend Mary, this lovely lady:

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Sorry it’s fuzzy. Cell phone pic.

She has finally launched her blog. It’s called Quite Contrary. (Get it? Isn’t that cute?) Mary is a former journalist and communications professional, so it pretty much goes without saying that she’s a talented writer. She’s also super smart and observant and savvy, so she’s an excellent person to talk to on the Topics of Great Importance I mentioned here. And Mary is also a wonderful mother to her two lovely little girls. (Whom I won’t deny having my eye on for my little guys someday.) Wink, wink.

I hope you’ll go pay her a visit!

— 2 —

Any of you who are Conversion Diary readers likely already know about the gem of blog Jen shared last week: Mama Knows, Honeychild. If you aren’t, or if you somehow missed her recommendation, oh my gosh, you have to check it out. It’s the funniest thing I’ve come across in a long time. I’m not a “laugh out loud” kind of person, but I totally was LOL’ing while I read Heather’s posts. The blog is a hilarious take on motherhood, family life, trying to live the Catholic faith and instill it in your children, etc. Oh, and it’s illustrated with the blogger’s own stick figure drawings, which are as if not more funny than the writing itself. Case in point:

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The fruits of an over-active imagination, an impending beach vacation, and Shark Week on TV.

— 3 —

Speaking of gems, last week I stumbled onto another, very different kind of blog gem. Nella at Is There McDonald’s in Heaven? commented on my Motherhood On The Kitchen Floor post, so I checked out her blog. I read one post, then another, then came back for another, and before I knew it, I’d read just about her entire blog. (She started it in April.)

Earlier this year, Nella figured out that she had cancer around the same time she discovered she was pregnant with her sixth child. She was formally diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma when she was 19 weeks pregnant. So, understandably, she writes about the challenges of having cancer. And the challenges of having cancer while pregnant. With five older children to care for. Now that her baby has been born, she’s writing about the challenges of having a premie in the NICU. (And, family with lots of NICU experience, it looks like Nella could use some words of comfort on that count. Comment on her blog if you have any wisdom to share with her.)

I tell you, she seems like quite a lady. Not only is she super open and honest about the whole thing, but she’s so funny. How in the world can anyone make cancer treatment seem funny? Like this:

It’s easy as humans to forget that we are animals.  Well let me tell you, regardless of the fact that you intellectually understand that this procedure will lead to life saving information, regardless of the fact that you give your consent, and regardless of the fact that the whole situation is dressed up with civilized medical behavior, when someone is coming at your outstretched neck with a sharp object…well, everything deep in side the most primordial core of your being starts screaming out “AWWW HELLZZ NO!!!”.  My primordial core is urban.  Anyhoo, you’d be amazed how perplexing it is to medical professionals that a normal person might find being stabbed in the neck, even with your consent, a tad disconcerting.  Seriously doctor, it’s not personal, I’m sure you’re very competent and compassionate, BUT YOU ARE STABBING ME IN THE NECK.  Now lest you think I was flopping around like a fish on the table screaming for my Mom, I was not.  I have birthed 5 children.  4 of them with no pharmaceutical assistance.  I am a bad ass.  But I did startle a bit when they started the procedure.  Sue me.  YOU WERE STABBING ME IN THE NECK.

There’s also this post on not being able to nurse her new baby because of her cancer treatment.  (Which, by the way, I think is a good post to read in tandem with my friend Krista’s How ‘Bout Them Apples? post the other day.)

I know I only have like five readers, but I sure hope each and every one of you will pop over to Nella’s blog. You’ll be richer for it. (If maybe a little sniffly. Yes, the blog is super funny at times. But it’s still heartbreaking. It’s still cancer.)

— 4 —

One more link. You know how, a little over a week ago, I found myself running ridiculous laps across the backyard because my 3-year-old destroyed my chance at having some quiet time to write? About abortion? I set the post aside for a while. But I revisited it last night and I think I can get it up a little later this week. ‘Till then, I thought this quote from Simcha Fisher was hilarious.

News flash.  The Church is against abortion.  Everyone knows this.  Everyone, everyone, everyone.  Find me some stoner kid living under the boardwalk and ask him what the Church teaches about abortion.  He’ll know.  Find me some juiced up Wall Street executive taking a four minute lunch before he dives back into the money pit, and ask him what the Church teaches about abortion.  He’ll know.  Find me some half demented grandpa shuffling down the hall in a nursing home and ask him what the Church teaches about abortion.  He’ll know.  And so will the nurse on call, and the secretary in the office, and the maintenance guy working on the drains, and the high school sophomore gloomily fulfilling his community service hours.  Ask the Planned Parenthood escort.  Ask the talking head who reads the news, or the nastiest combox troll.  The one thing that everybody knows is that the Church is against abortion.

What the world doesn’t know is why the Church is against abortion.  What the world doesn’t know is what the Church can offer instead of abortion.  The world doesn’t know why life is worth living. This is the message that every pope in recent memory has been preaching — that life is good!

“Some stoner kid living under the boardwalk”? I love her. I love her. I love her.

— 5 —

We got to visit with my brand new baby niece two times last week. On Thursday the boys and I drove up to my brother and sister-in-law’s house to visit for a few hours. On Sunday we gathered at my grandparents’ house for swimming and a little game of pass-the-new-baby-around. Here are some pics. Isn’t she sweet?

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Meeting one of her great-grandmas…

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… and meeting another great-grandma!

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They were enjoying the cicada shells attached to their shirts. We named the bugs Crunchy and Crispy. Surprise, surprise, it wasn’t long before Crunchy got, er… crunched.

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At the ripe old ages of 4 and 3, they’re turning into the daring big kids.

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— 6 —

Here’s some extreme randomness for you: I have very wavy/curly/FRIZZY hair. Hair that’s full of body, but that has zero desire to cooperate with any of my ideas for it. So let me tell you, I have some hilarious bed head in the morning. So hilarious, that were I a little more confident in my appearance, I would post a collage of all the crazy things my hair does in the morning. This morning it was almost entirely made up of wiry, frizzy little curlicues close to my head. But I also had one big wing of wavy frizz heading up and away off the top of my head, at a diagonal. My husband must be pretty darned used to it at this point, because I honestly can’t see why he doesn’t startle or snort with laughter when he first sees me in the morning. That’s pretty much what I do when I look in the bathroom mirror.

— 7 —

Why don’t you start your week off right with a couple of toddler jokes? (My three-year-old’s FIRST! He entertained us with them a few days ago, laughing his little head off.)

Set-up: “How do trains have hands?”
Punchline: “Why dey have bats!”

Set-up: “How do trains don’t have wheels?”
Punchline: “A baby!”

Oh, and then he said this, which was also great:
“What’s dat again? Sowwy, I have wax in my ear.”

Cute little stinker…

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He decided to eat his cookie under the table. I have no idea why.

Have  a great week!