Alex brought this home from school this week. They had to write a song based on the blues.

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Julianna’s language can be killingly funny. She tries so hard to tell us something, and we listen, we have her repeat, but we are so lost. So we take a stab at it. “Bacon?”

“Doh doh doh doh doh!” she says, rapid fire, with deeply tolerant impatience and an exact imitation of Mommy’s inflection when saying “no” repeatedly.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t translate well to the blogosphere.

Random unrelated cute picture

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We went to a (wwwwwwayyyyyy overpriced) Mothers Day buffet on Sunday. Nicholas brought back his first plate. “This,” he said solemnly, holding up a white square, “is squished cheese.”

___4___

Michael has another ear infection. So for the first time in our parenting career we are having the tubes discussion.

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Michael has also developed a not-so-cute habit of banging his head on things when he’s not happy. It seems a rather self-destructive way to embark on the tantrum stage. Unfortunately, Alex and Nicholas think it’s funny. I’m having to tell them not to laugh at him. I can already see my least favorite stage of parenting; it’s no longer around the bend, it’s just down the stretch a little way. Blech.

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Because I’m pathetic, the news story about Angelina Jolie’s preventive double mastectomy this week was the last nudge I needed to make a couple of doctor appointments I’ve been procrastinating. One of them is minor, the other not so much: I will be getting tested for BHD next week. It’s a genetic condition that runs in families and impacts 50% of people in any family that has it. Except mine, where every single person who has been tested has been positive. It doesn’t have major everyday implications, but certain conditions will be treated differently if you have it, and there are long-term health risks to be watched. So off I go at last.

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I had procrastinated on this decision in part because I didn’t want insurance to have any excuse to deny coverage at any point for anything, with that “pre-existing condition” thing. When I was at my primary care doctor’s office yesterday, we talked about it. “Well,” she said, “the universal health care law took care of that. That’s the best thing about the new health care law–that and free contraceptives.”

I thought: There’s a lot I like about the national health care law, but free contraceptives are on the “what I DON’T like” list. Am I supposed to witness right about now, as to all the practical, non-religious reasons why I think contraceptives are bad for women?

I didn’t. I didn’t have the energy. Or the time. I failed. I know. One of these days I simply must buck up the courage and have the conversation. It’s so weird, the difference between my primary care doctor and my NFP-only OB/gyn. I like my p.c.–I like her a lot, actually. She said “gosh darn” yesterday and I wanted to hug her. But it’s such a different world between her office and his. Hers is fancy, his is…home. Hers, I am always on my guard, because I know my world view is so different and I have to be careful about what I say and what I hear. At his office, I feel completely, totally safe. At home, as I said. It’s just interesting. I know this has got to be a peculiarly “traditional Catholic” kind of difficulty. How do you guys deal with this?

]]> http://kathleenbasi.com/2013/05/17/7-quick-takes-33/feed/ 1 ckbasi Alex Sings The Blues Picnic, playground, Pinnacles 002 7_quick_takes_sm http://kathleenbasi.com/2013/05/15/blessed-are-the-peacemakers-tll-review-and-excerpt/ http://kathleenbasi.com/2013/05/15/blessed-are-the-peacemakers-tll-review-and-excerpt/#comments Wed, 15 May 2013 14:08:22 +0000 Kathleen http://kathleenbasi.com/?p=14442 ]]> This Little Light of Mine: Living the Beatitudes is written not only for use with children, but to help form the faith of the adults who work with them. Today’s excerpt, from Chapter 7: Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God (Celebrating the Saints), comes from the section for children.

Even though our bodies die, our souls live forever. That means we can still pray for people after they’ve left the earth–and they can still pray for us. That’s what we mean when we talk about the “communion of saints.” (Do you remember that phrase from the Creed we pray on Sundays?)

…

Different saints are known as “patrons” of certain things because of the way they lived their lives. St. Valentine, for instance, became patron of lovers because he helped Christian couples get married when they were being persecuted in ancient Rome. Learning about the saints helps us understand what other Christians did to stay faithful when they came up against the same kinds of problems we face.

Just Live It:

2. Choose a patron saint for your family–someone you admire, whose work you would like to continue. Keep in mind that whatever you do, it has to be able to weave into the fabric of ball practices, music lessons, and other commitments. Do some digging. Find out about the person–what he was known for; what her background was. Then think creatively about how to celebrate the feast day and–even more importantly–how to incorporate the saint’s example.

(From This Little Light of Mine, Chapter 7)

Because we’re all about building excitement, this week we have TWO reviews to post: one from Leanne of “Life Happens When” and the other by Dorian Speed of Scrutinies.

*

When I hear the Beatitude, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they are the children of God,” I often flash back to my days as a peace activist in the late 60s and early 70s. I participated in anti-war marches, volunteered at the Syracuse Peace Council, and managed the local War Tax Resistance Fund.  We certainly had “saints” to whom we looked for inspiration:  Jesuit priest and poet Dan Berrigan and his brother Phil, Trappist monk Thomas Merton, Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh, and especially for me, Loretto sisters Mary Luke Tobin, Cecily Jones, and many others. We had secular saints who inspired us as well: singers such as Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger, Joan Baez, and so many others; movie stars such as Jane Fonda, Martin Sheen and Paul Newman. These folks created lots of energy and enthusiasm for the peace movement, probably much like the energy and enthusiasm of children.

Over the years, I have participated at various levels in the anti-nuclear movement, the women’s movement, the protests against the Iraqi War, and the protests to close the School of the Americas (SOA). Mostly though, I had to figure out how to be peaceful in my own life, amidst the stresses of being a wife, mother, teacher, daughter, sister, etc. That to me seemed much more immediate and far more challenging! I really felt far less successful at establishing peace in these personal realms than I did at working for peace on a global level.

Thankfully, I am now retired, my children are grown, and I face far fewer personal challenges to living a somewhat peaceful life than I used to. When I look at issues of peace in the larger world, however, they seem more challenging than ever, both within our own country and within the world, and even within the universe. We don’t really seem to have the inspiring saints that we had during the Civil Rights movement, the anti-Vietnam war days, or even the days of the women’s movement. How do we work for peace in the current age?

Many of us in the Loretto Community have been reading a book by James O’Dea entitled Cultivating Peace:  Becoming a 21^st-Century Peace Ambassador. He believes that we must go beyond the traditional ways we have worked for peace—with protests, marches, demonstrations, and even conflict resolution. He is not disheartened by the apparent lack of charismatic leaders because he believes that at this time, each of us is capable of being a global leader. Like Jesus says in the Beatitudes, we must cultivate peace in our own lives first, but with advances in our understanding of culture, psychology, spirituality, mental and physical health, we perhaps have better tools with which to accomplish this. He is also convinced that our own interactions with ourselves and others have an influence on the rest of the world, much like the flapping of butterfly wings can affect the weather in a far off location. Although O’Dea’s work has a bit of a New Age sound to it, it seems to me that this is actually quite similar to our belief about prayer. It turns out that my struggles to figure out how to be peaceful amidst the daily stresses of life may have been more important than my direct work for peace! Certainly this makes it possible for each of us to help create a more peaceful world—and perhaps each of us has a chance to become a saint!

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Barb Mecker and her husband Brian Hammond are co-members of the Loretto Community (Sisters of Loretto and co-members). Barb coordinated the Loretto Volunteer Program for eight years after retiring from a teaching career. She and Brian have four children and nine grandchildren.

About 2/3 of my mother’s family, eight years ago, before all my cousins started having kids. Note: some of the kids in the picture ARE my cousins.

Can I just say how annoying I find the American obsession with poll-taking? They’ve become so institutionalized, we have come to regard polls as truth: not a reflection of people’s opinions, but a representation of reality.

For instance, last week I ran across an article about a survey in which parents identified their own stress level. The conclusion? The most stressful number of kids is three. This was not a scientific study–just a survey.

There are so many problems with this survey. A friend blogged a whole bunch of them last week, and did a fabulous job, but I have others.

1. This is completely useless “information.” How does it help anyone to know that people with three children self-identify as more stressed than parents of other numbers?

2. It undercuts anyone who is not in the “most stressful” category. Obviously they should just chill, because their life isn’t as bad as they think.

3. Because we are lemmings, we will use useless information like this to “help” us make important decisions on family size. Obviously we should quit at two children, because if we have a third our life is over. We are doomed to be a bundle of stress all the time. (Yeah, I know. You think other people’s opinions don’t influence you, but be honest. When you see a poll that relates to some decision you’re contemplating, course it weighs into the decision!)

4. There is stress in all stages of family-building.

Those who don’t have kids yet are stressing because they are trying to have them, or trying not to have them, and worrying about whether their decision is the right one: is this the right time? What if I put it off too long? Why can’t I get pregnant NOW?

In short: stress.

When you have one child, you’re obsessively worried about said child. You have to do everything right, and you know for sure if you screw up, your kid’s entire future will be shot, permanently and irretrievably lost. You worry about whether you’re reading the right number of minutes, teaching enough signs and attending the right enrichment programs. Why? Because you’ve never done this before, and it’s a big responsibility!

In short: stress.

When you have two kids, you have to split yourself in two for the first time. All that energy you devoted to one now has to make do for two. There’s guilt, because the older child took a hit in Mommy (or Daddy) attention.

In short: stress.

When you have three children,  you are always outnumbered. At least one of the older kids is virtually guaranteed to be going through some really hard stage while you’re also dealing with the time-intensive baby stage.

In short: stress.

When you have four or more, all the above applies, although you’re used to it. But you get so busy helping older kids with homework and driving them to activities that the youngest gets a paltry shadow of the intensive parent interaction that child #1 got. Kids bicker: there’s the “he’s touching me” “she’s watching me play” bit, the minding everyone’s business but their own, the every time you turn around the thing you just put away is out again, and there isn’t enough of you to go around and you know it’s your own fault that the house is a mess because you’re not willing to take the time to make the kids clean up themselves but for Heaven’s sake, it’s just easier to do it yourself most of the time, because you know what battles ensue in getting kids to do it!

In short: stress.

The point is, it doesn’t matter whether you have no kids or twenty, you’re going to be stressed, because that’s what human beings do to ourselves. Asking people to identify their own stress level, with no further breakdown of situation, is nonsense. Certain stages are more stressful than others, and sometimes it’s a shift in type rather than intensity. All these people have kids of different ages, and a different spread between their kids.

Besides, each person’s unique life circumstances play into the stress dynamic. Your mood on a given day affects how you answer those questions, for crying out loud–to say nothing of job stress, house hunting, kids’ projects, health, whether your kids are having trouble in school or sailing through–even whether toilet training is going well or poorly on the day they asked. To reduce all that complexity to a simple, bald statement like “three is the most stressful number of children”…that’s just a load of crap.

Opinion polls tell you nothing about reality. They tell you only people’s perception of it. I just wish we’d all keep that in mind, instead of running over the cliff of public opinion like a bunch of lemmings.

(Note: yes, I know lemmings don’t actually follow each other over cliffs. It’s a figure of speech.)

On the heels of Julianna’s spring festival, I talked about school fundraisers.

This week’s “This Little Light” blog tour guest post was written by a youth minister friend of mine on the topic of sacramentals. Last week I hosted the inimitable Sarah Reinhard, who talked about the rubber meeting the road in your faith life.

This week’s 7QTs were devoted to Julianna’s education, specifically the decision not to move her to Catholic school. (As an aside, I should write about Julianna all the time. My hits always go through the roof. )

And one more post, because it’s particularly Catholic: Did Mary Suffer From Powdered Butt Syndrome? (Already several good comments on that one.)

The decision was made at the end of last week: Julianna will remain in public schools. I would like to say we made it, but the truth is that the Catholic school decided they simply couldn’t serve her. I was relieved, because for quite some time I’ve been moving toward the conclusion that she is where she should be, and I was dreading having to make the decision ourselves. Christian, however, was not so sanguine.

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As much as anything I think our disappointment stems from the lack that the Catholic school kids suffer by not having her in their midst. Ugh, I sound like one of those insufferable moms who think their kid’s very existence enriches the universe around them, right? Well, I can only plead guilty, but I do have a reason.

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I’ve said before how not-diverse my childhood was, and how difficult that made it for me to translate lessons of equality before God into action. My mom says I have a tendency toward “scrupulosity.” In this case, that means I’ve spent my entire life worrying about whether I’m treating people the same regardless of skin color–or, I discovered later, disability. Knowing something in theory is not the same as having the chance to put it into practice when the lessons are being formed. For this reason I say that kids need to be around my daughter at least as much as she needs to be around them. Other kids need that interaction.

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Our local Catholic school isn’t quite as homogenous as the one I grew up in, but it’s close enough. And last fall, we had a rather disheartening experience at the cub scout family campout, which is entirely Catholic kids. Exhibit A: during Mass out on the lawn, Julianna was reciting prayers loudly and not clearly, as she always does. She got several of those “looks” from the kids. You know, the “you are so weird, what is wrong with you?” looks. Afterward, there were a few little girls running around hand in hand. They were so cute, and Julianna went running over to join them. They, too, gave her The Look and gave her the cold shoulder.

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Understand that nothing like that has ever happened around the public school kids. The only explanation that makes any sense to me is exposure to diversity, or lack thereof.

Take a bow, girly girl

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I read something recently that said that although people with Down syndrome have a low intelligence quotient (Julianna’s IQ was measured at 60), they have an emotional quotient that’s much, much higher. That rings true; Julianna is enormously empathetic, sensitive to mood, and seems to be able to pick out the person in the room who most needs loving. As a society we are so focused on intelligence as the primary value, we’ve failed to recognize the contribution that a high emotional quotient has to offer.

___7___

Although Julianna is reading at “level 2.” Level 4 is considered end of kindergarten. Not too shabby, methinks.

___7b___

Yesterday her school had a Mothers Tea. It was a concert followed by cookies and fruit punch. The kids were “warming up” with the music teacher when I arrived and sat down. I was just beyond the music teacher, and Julianna was so fixed on her, she didn’t see me at first. But when she did…well, those of you who have met Julianna know how she reacts to delight. Christian says her entire face expands to make room for the size of that smile. “BAH-EE!” she screamed, drowning out the other sixty kindergarteners. So stinking cute. They were doing songs about mothers, and every time they said the word “mom” during the performance, she pointed with her entire arm at me.

___7c___

I will not, however, pretend that she’s an angel. She is not. There is way too much brother-torment and button-pushing and deliberate obtuseness in my girl to justify that label. But I’m shredding the idea of seven quick takes now, and I need to mow the lawn. Have a great weekend!

]]> http://kathleenbasi.com/2013/05/10/julianna-a-7qt-post/feed/ 16 ckbasi Picnic, playground, Pinnacles 097 Take a bow, girly girl 7_quick_takes_sm http://kathleenbasi.com/2013/05/08/14414/ http://kathleenbasi.com/2013/05/08/14414/#comments Wed, 08 May 2013 13:14:26 +0000 Kathleen http://kathleenbasi.com/?p=14414 ]]> This Little Light of Mine: Living the Beatitudes is written not only for use with children, but to help form the faith of the adults who work with them. Today’s excerpt, from Chapter 6: Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God (Sacraments and Private Devotion), comes from the section for adults.

Most of us spend our whole lives searching for the meaning of life. Every time we think we get close to an answer, something knocks us off course again. We hunger and thirst for–what? All we really know is we’re incomplete, and nothing we pursue quite fills the emptiness, because it’s God we ache for, God we need. But God can feel far away at times; and the journey to reach him long and uncertain. Along that road, we need sustenance: tangible, physical touch points to strengthen us on the way. We find that sustenance in the sacraments and in a rich heritage of private devotions.

Just Live It:

Try celebrating a Passover meal with your family. Look up the traditional foods online, or keep it simple, with lamb and a loaf of unleavened bread…

During the meal, ask all in attendance to think about what it is they need Jesus to deliver them from. What is the habitual sin that you can’t overcome on your own? As you pass the bread around the table, have all people break off a piece to eat, and if they feel comfortable, share their thoughts aloud. But don’t force it. Conversion happens inside and manifests outside in different ways for different people. It would be easy for an exercise like this to turn into an opportunity to be self-righteous, which defeats the whole purpose. (From This Little Light of Mine, chapter 6)

Hop on over to Alicia’s place for this week’s review and giveaway!

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If you would ask your Catholic grandparents and especially great-grandparents about sacramentals and devotions you would hear about their affection for rosaries, medals, saints, saint feast days, etc. Today’s Catholics do not seem to have the same affection for sacramentals. How can the Catholic traditions of so many years ago apply to us and our society? Maybe our grandparents and great-grandparents are out of touch with our society? That was a different time – a different morality.

Truth be told, the past generation is out of touch with today’s society. Just look at the difference between the forms of entertainment then and now. They watched TV shows like Leave it to Beaver and The Andy Griffith Show while we watch sexually charged shows like Friends and Two and Half Men. For movies they watched Gone with the Wind while we watch Magic Mike. The elderly think that Fifty Shades of Gray must have something to do with the color palate. Maybe we should join our elderly and become out of touch with today’s society.

It appears to me that the gradual decrease of the devotion to sacramentals coincided with the increase of immorality in our society. Whether or not you accept this analogy between immorality and sacramentals, let us first understand how sacramentals help protect us against immorality.

The lack of devotion shown to sacramentals by today’s Catholics may be due to a lack of education.  Sacramentals are blessed objects like rosaries, medals, crucifixes, scapulars or sacred signs such as the sign of the cross, sprinkling holy water, bowing, pilgrimages, etc. The major importance of sacramentals is they “prepare you to receive grace” and direct us to “sanctification of men and the praise of God.” [CCC 1670]

Some Christians and even some Catholics do not understand why we should utilize sacraments when you can go straight to Jesus. It is important to note that sacramentals are not to replace our relationship with Jesus, sacraments or the liturgy, all of which are far superior. [CCC 1675]. The fact that they “prepare us to receive grace” flows from the Paschal mystery of the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of Christ. [1670] Sacramentals have always been an important part of Christian and biblical faith. Here is just one biblical example:

“So extraordinary were the mighty deeds God accomplished at the hand of Paul that when face cloths or aprons [sacramentals] that touched his skin were applied to the sick, their diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them.” (Acts 19:11-12).

It is said that we should learn from our past and our past was devoted to sacramentals. Maybe it’s time our society places less importance on the latest iPhone and place more importance on sacramentals such as the miraculous Medal. Sacramentals help us by preparing us to live a sanctified or holy life. A sanctified life spiritually puts us in a better position to receive the fruits of the Holy Spirit. Our immoral society would see more joy, peace, charity, patience, kindness, goodness, generosity, gentleness, faithfulness, modesty, self-control, and chastity. I am confident that we all could use more of all of these.

My favorite sacramental is the Miraculous Medal and the Immaculate Conception of Mary. I know this has deepened my relationship with Jesus and I encourage you to find your devotion to a sacramental. Pray this Prayer of the Immaculate Heart of Mary and ask for help finding your sacramental devotion.

O God, who by the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary, didst prepare a worthy dwelling place for thy Son, we beseech thee that, as by the foreseen death of this, thy Son, thou didst preserve her from all stain, so too thou wouldst permit us, purified through her intercession, to come unto thee. Through the same Lord Jesus Christ, thy Son, who livest and reignest with thee in the unity of the Holy Ghost, God, world without end. Amen.

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Dan Quinn and his twin brother, John, are the authors of the Marion Amazon best seller The Ultimate Saint Guide to the Immaculate Conception. He is administrator of the Immaculate Conception of Mary Facebook page.

It was a community event, and utterly magical. We looked forward to it every year. My parents have a set of six huge globe goblets that my sisters and I won piecemeal over the course of years by throwing ping pong balls into them. (As a parent, I can now shake my head and imagine their reaction: “Oh, great, just what I wanted. More of those tacky goblets.”)

I thought of this about an hour into Julianna’s school spring festival on Friday night. It was supposed to be outside, but–big surprise, this ridiculous weather year–it was too cold and rainy. In keeping with modern America’s abysmal eating habits, the meal was hot dog, chips and a cookie instead of the pork chop, green beans & homemade desserts of my youth. There wasn’t a country store or a white elephant–but the classrooms were set up for bean bag toss, lollipop tree, and the like. Including a photo booth, where I volunteered for half an hour.

It was a bit chaotic. Michael was getting tired, and our whole family (except Christian) has been fighting the sore throat/cough bug. Michael began hurling himself to the floor and rolling around long before we ran out of tickets. Until he discovered a water fountain with a stool in front of it, that is. After that, he was in heaven.

It was such a fun evening. Crazy, yes, because the halls were crowded and it was tough to keep track of the kids. My memories of Mayfest involve us being cut loose, but of course we were older.

What struck me about the juxtaposition of memory on present is the rarity of events like these nowadays. Even my parochial school has abandoned Mayfest for the more profitable “auction” format. And I don’t like that format. I feel locked out of auction events, because we will never, ever be in the market for large ticket items, especially not at auction prices. And although there is a community aspect to an auction evening, it’s not the same. Auctions are adults only. Now, don’t misunderstand: I can certainly sympathize with the desire to spend time with other adults. But at the same time, it feels wrong to me somehow to remove the kids from the quotient. After all, we’re fundraising for the kids’ school. Why not make them part of it? Let them be invested? Make fundraising an event that not only raises money and builds community, but also gives families the chance to have fun together?

Maybe it’s not an either/or situation. The auctions certainly serve their function; they raise a ton of money. But wouldn’t it be wonderful to have those family events that bind communities together, too?

I guess the obstacle is that a spring festival requires a higher commitment level from the community. The need for volunteers is greater, the need for donations is greater; people need to take time to bake goods and make crafts and prepare homemade desserts and spend shifts in the kitchen and the game booths. You have to go through your closets looking for white elephants to donate. All the way around, a festival is a bigger commitment from the non-committee members, and the larger the school, the more unwieldy the practicalities. And the reality of urban life in the modern world is that it’s hard to get people to volunteer to the needed level. I’m as guilty as anyone else.

So maybe my idealized version of a school fundraiser is doomed to failure. But when I remember the festivals of my childhood, and when I see my kids enjoying the one at Julianna’s school, it makes me sad.

A couple of years ago, I read about a study that had concluded that boys’ brains, in particular, don’t finish developing the part that allows them to make good judgment calls until very late…like, sometime into the college years, if my memory is correct.

I often think of that when surveying the “what were you THINKING????” moments in my household. Right now, that’s mostly Nicholas. So I thought today I’d share all about my third-born, second son.

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He can’t seem to remember…or more likely, he chooses not to remember…the things he’s been repeatedly yelled at for. Like jumping on the couch. He’s absolutely determined that he MUST remove the cushions, use them to build steps, and pretend that the couch is his Jazzercise stage. And he keeps drawing on the table and the floor with marker, despite multiple warnings and punishments. (I don’t know if I ever wrote about the day he got his hands on a SHARPIE and defaced the Amish-made oak table. Christian and I worked for an hour to get that off.) He also can’t seem to remember that Mommy gets really ticked off when he puts glasses and washcloths on the edge of the tub and pours water over them, which cascades onto the floor. But the best (worst?) one was the day I found him with his hands in the big water pitcher I had just filled with filtered water for the family to drink at dinner. I mean, seriously, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, boy? Why would you even think that was okay, as many times as you’ve seen me yell at your baby brother for similar infractions?????

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Even so, he has such a personality. As a parent, you tend to collect and organize the comments people make about your kids. Alex is complimented on his maturity and love and caring for his siblings. Julianna, well, Julianna’s Julianna. Michael gets the “he’s so cute” in equal parts with “wow, he wears me out!” (Yeah, me too.) But Nicholas is the one people adore. Teachers, sitters, even my next door neighbor, always say, “He’s got such a personality!” He’s the one they remember. The one who stands out most as having the strongest-developed character at the youngest age. Julianna could give him a run for the money on this, but her extra chromosome gives her an unfair advantage, so we’ll set all that aside for right now. He’s got a great, unselfconscious, warbling laugh, and he’s dying to be like the big kids. Which could get him into trouble, because Big Brother’s friends are learning how to make him say and do things…so far relatively innocuous, but inevitably that’s going to change.

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Nicholas is funny about following directions. We’ve learned more or less how to handle him, and it’s not the way I’d choose to handle a situation; it involves too much backpedaling and feeling like we’re allowing the child to take charge. But he’s unbelievably strong-willed, so I am coming to the conclusion that this is the only way to parent him successfully. You have to start any conversation/decision making process early enough for him to say “No,” forcefully, several times. Then you have to give him lots of time to change his mind, because if you don’t, he’ll pitch all manner of fits, and act like he’s the victim because you made preparations based on the preference he gave you in the first place. At nap time he’ll push me away: “I don’t want a hug!” He’s trying to punish me for making him take a nap. But if I say, “Okay, fine,” and head out of the room, he’ll immediately scream, “I WANT A HUG!” And if I try to teach the lesson that you don’t get to change your mind repeatedly, he’ll scream and cry for ten minutes, as if he’s being mistreated. So I’ve learned to  ask, “Do you want a hug?” I rein in my impatience while he screws up his face–you can see the gears spinning, working out scenarios. “Do you want a hug?” I repeat.

“I’m trying to think,” he says. (Face palm.)

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He will also banish himself to his room when told to eat a food he doesn’t like or apologize for bad behavior–and he’ll sit upstairs having periodic conversations with you about how he’s not ready to come down and do what he’s told. But in the end, he always does. Sometimes it takes five minutes, sometimes fifteen. But he always comes around in the end.

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Note: I forgot to include his absolute, complete, debilitating terror of monsters. No matter how many times I tell him monsters don’t exist, he is now terrified of being by himself. This morning (Saturday) I was awakened by a screaming child running into my room and vaulting on top of me, his heart pounding like a rabbit’s.

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Well, a couple of non-Nicholas things. This week something happened to me that has never happened to me before. I completely lost my voice on the day of a gig. I’ve had weak and sore throats, but never none. I didn’t really believe it. I was supposed to lead a Mass for the diocesan principals, and I enlisted last-minute help, but when it came time for the chant Mass parts, which I never play, I told them I’d come up and help them get started singing. Only I opened my mouth and nothing came out. Just a little hiss of air. I tried three times, and…nothing.

Voice is beginning recovery today…good thing, b/c I have to sing a wedding tomorrow.

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Christian reminded  me of a funny memory this week as we were watching the “new” Star Trek movie again. It came out in the theaters when Julianna was in the hospital–on a bi-pap she didn’t like AT ALL. When we reached the :27 mark of this clip…..

Christian leaned over to me and said, “Look! It’s Julianna!”