Month: February 2010

Coming to My City

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OK, my ZIP code, but let’s not get picky.

The convent at one of the churches in my newly-merged parish has been vacant for a year and a half. On Monday night, the town council where the convent is located approved a variance so that the former convent can now become a Good Counsel Home.

There had been a good deal of opposition in town when this idea was first introduced. Fortunately, the town council was convinced that a home that would aid about ten young women in crisis pregnancies would not pose a danger to the town.

What a wonderful opportunity for the people in our parish to really stand up for life.

Book Review: The Handbook for Catholic Moms

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As soon as I found out that The Handbook for Catholic Moms was available for pre-order, I immediately put my name on the list.  I’m a big fan of author Lisa Hendey’s website, CatholicMom.com, and when I saw the list of contributors to this book, I knew it was going to be a winner.

I was not disappointed.

I’ve only got one wish–that this book had been written eighteen years ago when I was a new mom and needed the kind of encouragement that Lisa Hendey offers.  But that’s just not possible.  Lisa’s oldest child is right around the same age as my oldest child–and this book is the fruit of her eighteen years of experience in living the vocation of Catholic motherhood.

That’s not to say that there was nothing in this book for the “seasoned” mom.  In fact, this book can touch moms at any point in their mothering lives.

Lisa begins each chapter with an anecdote from her own life, and includes encouraging essays from other moms including Danielle Bean, Donna-Marie Cooper-O’Boyle, Heidi Hess Saxton, and Rebecca Teti and advice from experts like Phil Lenahan, Deacon Tom Fox and Father Jay Finelli–to name just a few!  The book is full of ways to nurture your heart, mind, body and soul–and seeks to help moms take care of themselves so that they will be better able to take care of their families.   Each chapter ends with a “Mom’s Homework” section that gives moms concrete ways to do just that.

Here’s one nugget from the book that falls into the “I wish I’d known this” category:  “Rather than joining existing (mom’s support) groups at neighborhood churches from other denominations, please consider being the brave soul who starts something new and special at your own parish.”  When Big Brother was a baby, I needed the support of other moms–and our parish had nothing of that sort.  Being new to the area and knowing no one, I was afraid to try to start something at our parish.  I did find a wonderful group at a fundamentalist church 20 minutes away, and I participated in that group for about four years.  But while it was a very encouraging group, I always felt like I did not quite belong, as I was not a part of that particular church.  As a Catholic, my experience of some things was different, and I could not share that experience there.

I’d like to encourage any mom to read this book.  There are treasures on every page of The Handbook for Catholic Moms.  It’s going to be part of any future christening gift that my family gives!

Disclaimer:  I purchased a copy of this book with my own money.  I was not compensated financially for this book review.

Completely Altruistic

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Every morning when I wake up Big Brother, it’s always the same.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbles at me from under his pile of blankets.

Not today, though. There’s important stuff going on today. So when I told him it was time to wake up, he replied, “I need to be well-rested if I’m going to give blood.”

Entropy

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I know Ellen‘s usually the one to post the Zits comics, but I couldn’t resist.  This is my life–times 3.

Who Makes Your Coffee–Mary or Martha?

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I have two coffeepots: a regular old automatic-drip pot and a French press.

When I got the French press, I thought it was so great that I considered putting away my drip coffeemaker. That would save me about a square foot of counter space, which in my tiny kitchen is no small potatoes.

I haven’t stowed away the drip coffeepot, though–and I think that’s because there’s a little too much Martha in me.  And I’m not talking about Martha Stewart, either.

The drip coffeemaker allows me to be Martha when I need to.   All I have to do is fill it up and hit the switch.  The coffee brews without my paying any further attention to it.  That means that I can wake the kids up for school, unload the dishwasher, and pack lunch sandwiches while the coffee brews.  If I get distracted and don’t get to pour that cup of coffee right away, it’ll sit there and stay hot until I can get to it.  It’s definitely the kind of appliance that allows me to keep busy in the kitchen, with my mind on many things, with no adverse result if I have to keep that hot coffee waiting for a while.  That’s why using a drip coffeemaker is like being Martha; she was concerned with many things.  Martha was a multitasker, the hostess with the mostest who had a lot on her mind, and she knew that the dinner wasn’t going to cook itself.  She’d have loved a coffeepot that would do the work for her–it’s one less concern she’d have when she held a dinner party.

Using a French press, on the other hand, is a very “Mary” way to make coffee.  It’s not a push-button kind of thing.  A French press requires that you pay attention to it, much like the way Mary dropped everything to sit at the feet of Jesus.  I think of Mary as a “one thing at a time” kind of girl.  She wasn’t going to multitask.  Everything she did got her full and complete attention.  So she wouldn’t mind warming the press, bringing the water almost to a boil, adding the coffee and hot water, waiting four minutes, then pressing out the coffee and pouring that fragrant first cup.  She’d be there four minutes later to do that; she wouldn’t have run down to the basement to throw in a load of laundry or gotten distracted with the peanut butter and jelly.

I love French-press coffee, but at this time in my life, I can’t always spend the ten minutes to be completely attentive to it.  Most of the time, I have a “Martha” kind of morning.  And that’s OK.  But sometimes, I manage to choose the better part, like Mary.  And when I do, I savor it.

Who makes your coffee?

To Coin a Phrase

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Me (rummaging through the silverware drawer): Where’s my grapefruit spoon?

Big Brother: You mean your spork?

Me: Actually, it’s a spife.