Breaking Bad and Catholic theology - Yes, I do believe they are related. :)

And here we have my Breaking Bad musings post. I haven't been able to stop thinking about this show since I watched the finale last week (My immediate, very emotional, reactions are in takes 6 and 7 of my recent 7 Quick Takes post). And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Breaking Bad is a secular show with religious themes - at least in my interpretation. :) This is going to be long, so settle in.

This review WILL have SPOILERS. I will talk about how the show ends, so if you don't want to know that, see you tomorrow. :)

Ok, so what do we have presented in Breaking Bad? At first glance, the premise sounds highly unappealing, to be sure. High school chemistry teacher undergoing a mid-life crisis receives a terminal cancer diagnoses. His family isn't in the best of financial situations, so he concocts a scheme with a former student to use his chemistry talents to cook a highly pure and sought-after form of crystal methamphetamine to make some quick money before he dies. He has a pregnant wife and a teenaged son with cerebral palsy - he wants to leave them with a way to pay off their debt and have a nice future even without him. He already feels like he failed them by going into teaching rather than making a lot of money from his research (which we learn about through a series of flash backs). This is a way to redeem himself before the cancer eats away at him. What could go wrong, right?

Well, everything. Let us dissect...

Breaking Bad is not a show that mentions God, but I see Him everywhere in the story. How so?

(1) Concupiscence - Our inclination to sin as a result of Original Sin (see CCC 1264). We will all sin sometimes. It stands to reason that we will sin MORE when we make a choice to place ourselves in a position of high temptation. So, what happens when you take a person prone to sin (which is any one of us) and place them in a situation rife with opportunities for additional sinful choices?

They will sin A LOT. And one sin leads to another leads to yet another. When you go down that rabbit hole your relative view of good and evil will be affected. Something that you struggled with morally at one time will come easier to you the more you do it.

Back in Season 1, Walt struggled with The Krazy 8 Problem. Here we have a guy he meant to kill because that person was posing an immediate threat to his life. However, when the guy didn't die, he now has a quandary on his hand. Is it moral to kill someone chained up in your basement that is telling you he will do you no harm if you let him go? Is the *possibility* that this guy will harm you and/or your family enough to take his life? Ultimately, Walt finds enough evidence to answer that question with a definite "yes." After that, Walt uses less and less thought before he kills or deliberately harms another person. Come Season 5 he's shooting Mike in cold blood because Mike won't give him the information he wants. Mike is no threat to Walt at this point. But he was presenting an obstacle to Walt's greater plan for the livelihood of the business, and that was enough for Walt to kill him.

Walt continued to pile horrifying choices upon his already sorry lot of poor choices. And that gets easier and easier to do as you surround yourself with ever increasing darkness.

It's interesting to me that the writers have said that they wanted to tell the story of a good man who turned bad. We don't know Walt's moral compass when the show begins, but he was portrayed as pretty benign. However, he obviously had a propensity for evil choices even back then, it just hadn't been put into a context yet in which he could choose to act on it. That's what I see as concupiscence. We all have the ability to make evil choices, and the evil will flourish if we continue to make those same choices. By the same token, we can choose to do good even in the face of evil. That's just much harder to do.

(2) Pride: It Really is One of the 7 Deadly Sins -  When he started off on this cockamamie scheme, Walt wanted to make money for the benefit of his family. Soon though, the money started coming in, and do you know what he said?

It wasn't coming in fast enough. He wanted to make more money, *faster*, and you know where that took them? Right, to Tuco, and a slew of other ruthless drug dealers who beat people to a pulp for sport. That didn't exactly work out seamlessly, did it? So, we have the sin of greed already leading them down a dangerous path.

And Walt took pride in his product - this was the best meth on the market. When we get past the wild-eyed insanity that was Tuco, we have Gus. Gus was civilized and sophisticated. Gus sipped Pinot Grigio and chopped his own garlic. Gus was everything refined that Tuco wasn't. Gus had an operation that was as smooth as silk, a pristine lab where Walt could call the shots, and more money than the lot of them could ever possibly need. And do you know what Walt said?

It wasn't enough. *He* wanted to be in charge, *he* wanted the glory. He wasn't content to be the nameless "cook," he couldn't leave well enough alone. This took him down a path that ultimately meant that it was either him or Gus. Suddenly, it's all about Walt.

As Mike said right before Walt killed him: "We had a good thing, you stupid *&#! We had [Gus], we had a lab, we had everything we needed, and it all ran like clockwork! You could have shut your mouth, cooked, and made as much money as you ever needed! It was perfect! But *no*! You just had to blow it up! *You*, and your pride and your ego! You just had to be the man! If you'd known your place, we'd all be fine right now!"

(3) Redemption - The reigning question throughout this series is: Will Walt find redemption? In the end, will he realize the error of his ways and turn back into the even tempered man we all knew at the beginning of the show? Bryan Cranston did an amazing job in the role of Walt transforming his physical and emotional appearance. The bald, craggy, unpredictable Walt we see in Season 5 barely resembles the mild mannered chemistry teacher of yore. He ends up truly taking on the characteristics of the drug kingpins he had to knock down to get what he wanted: Power. Is a person who went to the depths that he did to get on top (Season 5's tagline is: "All Hail the King") *beyond* redemption?

Of course not. But ultimately, Walt's pride does not take the backseat that would be necessary for that to happen. He does try to make a few things right for his family before he goes, and he does save Jesse, but Walt doesn't regret the things that he did. He does not show contrition nor humility in the face of death. He dies on his own terms.

(4) Dignity of the Human Person - In a show like this, this theme is pervasive. Corrupted people lose all perspective on the value of human life. People are pawns to them, they either are for them or in their way, and if they are in their way, they are eliminated. As Walt becomes more corrupted, we see Jesse as the beacon of light. Jesse cares, Jesse weeps when people die. Walt will watch Jane die and not help her because she presented an obstacle to his relationship with Jesse. Jesse will go head-to-head with the skillfully dangerous Gus to stop children from being used in drug sales. That's the difference between Walt and Jesse.

Lack of respect for the dignity of the human person is seen is so many areas of our world, particularly at both the beginning and end stages of life. When we don't value the most vulnerable, we will eventually cease to value so many others. Which is a perfect lead in to..

(5) Honor- According to the Catechism (CCC 2479), "Honor is the social witness given to human dignity, and everyone enjoys a natural right to the honor of his name and reputation and to respect." There is no honor among thieves. The scene in "Oxymaridas" when Uncle Jack and gang arrive in the desert to "help" Walt out of his predicament with the DEA is such a perfect example of this. Finally figuring that he is done, Walt begs Uncle Jack to spare his brother-in-law, Hank. Hank is family, and Walt tells himself that he values family above everything else. But you can NEVER trust dangerous and corrupted people. Walt offers Uncle Jack all of his money (which by this point is in the tens of millions) for Hanks' life, and what does Uncle Jack do?

He kills Hank. He knows that he can silence the DEA AND have the money. Walt is in no position to stop him from doing either. He doesn't care about Walt. He cares about himself. For all of his talent and money, Walt cannot buy honor and respect from another corrupted person, and he learns this in a most painful way. When Walt collapses on the ground in despair after Hank is shot, I felt sorry for him. It truly would be an overwhelming burden to know that your actions directly led to this result.

(6) Fatherhood - This is the aspect of Breaking Bad that is most difficult for me to talk about. Jesse is obviously in need of a father figure, since his own cast him out, and he turns to Walt, who betrays his trust time and time again. Then we have Walt, who loves his children, but relentlessly puts his own emotional needs ahead of theirs. He abuses his position as father in so many ways, all while telling himself that he's doing this all for THEM. Neither Walt nor Jesse turn to God as father, and ultimately, both are left wanting.

Walt is able to cobble together a way to assure that his family is financially provided for even despite Uncle Jack's audacious thievery, and his final moments with Skyler are civil, but he does not have the affection and respect of her nor Walt Jr. Little Holly will never know him. When he kidnapped Holly in "Oxymaridas" I thought I was going to lose it. I can't remember crying that hard over a tv show before. It all just hits very close to home as a parent. He wanted to force a relationship with Holly, because that's why he got into this mess to begin with, but there's no going back. She wanted her Mama, the one who has been there with her the most. It broke my heart when Walt said goodbye to her, I know that deep down he loved her and wanted so much more with her. But it was too late, and he knew it.

Jesse is finally free, and can turn his life around, but will he? We don't know, obviously, but he's been so damaged. We have hope for Jesse, but there is still a strong possibility that he will get mixed up in the darkness again. We can only hope that he chooses the light.

In the final moments of the finale, when we could see what was happening, I just felt so sad for Walt. He never really had the power that he wanted, nor the respect of others, and in the end he didn't even have the love of his family. He was alone. I kept thinking of little Holly sleeping like an angel in her crib when Walt last saw her, and here Walt is, dying alone in a chemical lab. Just so, so sad.

It may not be as dramatic, but we have the ability to cause ourselves to be alone like that too. Separated from God, separated from the people we love. This show really brought home to me how choices have real consequences.

It's not a show for the faint of heart, but this is outstanding television. And I'm telling you, very, very Catholic in it's lessons. :)

Just a day in the life...

Your resident potential juror is once again happily ensconced in her office so I thought I would check in. It's not looking like I will have to report this week based on my juror number, but I need to call back tonight and check. In the meantime, I've been working on some work-related book reviews. I review books for Catholic Library World. Coming up in early 2014, you'll see reviews by me of:

Sisterhood of Saints: Daily Guidance and Inspiration, by Melanie Rigney;

Mind Your Body, Work Your Soul, by Clare Strockbine; and

Toddler Christmas: Activities, Games and Stories for Excited Toddlers, by Kate Saunders.

I'm kind of excited, especially for the toddler Christmas book. And speaking of toddlers, Anne has been amusing us of late by her ability to break into song.

"Splish, splash, Anne was taking a baff!"

...is now a regular part of her musical repertoire. And see how she inserts herself into the song? Very cute. When we get to...

"rub a dub, just re-waxin' in the tub!" She brings in some saucy shoulder moves.

I get the feeling we're going to have a hard time with her when she gets older.

Other than that, I've just been cooking, knitting, and watching Breaking Bad with Mike in the evenings. It's a strange thing to say, given the very premise of that show, but it seems to me that the episodes are getting even *darker* which doesn't seem possible. At any rate, it makes for good conversation fodder, to say the least.

I have a ton of instruction to plan for here at work starting next week, but do you think that any of the Teaching Assistants could get back to me with their syllabus/assignment sheet? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

*taps foot impatiently*

So that's why I'm working on the book reviews instead of lesson plans. I'll be happy in a few weeks when all of these classes are behind me. I've got a library school student coming to observe me for a few of them which isn't exactly easing the pressure at all.

We'll get there. Send me your prayer intentions! I've been including everyone who has asked me to pray for them every morning and evening when I do the intercessory prayer section in the Magnificat. This spot could also be yours. :)

Everybody can breathe a sigh of relief...

...my Downton Abbey Season 3 DVD set has shipped. If it hadn't by the time I left for home tonight, I would have become convinced that my beloved Amazon hated me, was trying to smite me, and generally was trying to ruin my life. I would have contemplated another panic-stricken phone call to customer service. But happily, that is all avoided now. Really though, this tested my patience. I've never had to wait this long for a pre-ordered item to ship before. Even Amazon is human, I suppose.

In the mean time, Mike and I have been watching another BBC show in the evenings, Call the Midwife, about a small group of Anglican nuns and lay nurses who serve some of London's poorest women in the late 1950's. It's quite good. I definitely get emotional watching this show, and nightly I tell Mike exactly when I'll next be fertile so that we can make another adorable baby like the ones we're seeing on this show. Oh wait, I'm digressing again.

Anyway, this is a very thought-provoking show. Can I just say that I'm extremely grateful that certain dated childbirth practices are no longer in current usage? Holy smokes. On the positive side, I do think the show sends a good message about home births. An uncomplicated pregnancy can very much result in an uncomplicated home birth for many, many women.

Good stuff. Some of the story lines are heartbreaking though, and this is based on a true story.

*sniffles*

We'll be done watching Season 1 tomorrow. I'm hoping that Downton arrives for a grand viewing Saturday night, but I don't know. You can bet that I'll be obsessively taking advantage of the tracking number between now and then.

Our Downton Abbey obsession

That's the start of my Lady Edith Shawl, very much still on the needles. I work on it diligently each night as we re-watch Seasons 1 and 2 of what may be our favorite show of all time, Downton Abbey. It's taking quite a while, but I don't mind. Come spring, I'll have a lovely new shawl.

I'm also still doing the mystery knit-along, and after this week I think we'll have the first glove done. I can post a picture after that. :) Mike is all confused:

"If it's a mystery, how come you know what you're knitting?"

Which is indeed a very good question, no?

I too was a hair disappointed to know what we were knitting from the very first clue, but the designer needed to give a lot of sizing information up front so that everyone would be happy with the way their finished item fit. And man oh man, I can see why.

Ravelry has been abuzz about this knit-along, with lots of demanding knitters wanting additional clues and help along the way. From requests for how to knit both gloves at the same time, to critiques about how the lace pattern is working up on the suggested variegated yarn, the designer has been shepherding quite an opinionated group. Before we knew that our mystery item was gauntlets, I was amused by a few people who posted that they would NOT be participating if the mystery item was _____ (fill in the blank). A purse, a hat, you name it. If there was even a possibility that it was one of those things, they weren't knitting it. They were taking their needles and playing elsewhere.

I mean, really. This is a *knit-along*. Let's not take ourselves too seriously. As well, it IS supposed to be a mystery, that's part of the fun. If you're not willing to live dangerously, then this is not the project for you.

At any rate, the end design is the only mystery that remains at this point, but I'm enjoying it very much all the same. And the show.

*swoons*

I love this show. And their hats!!! My God, the hats. I wish women still wore hats like that. The music, the clothing, the plots, everything is just so SWEEPING on that show. I'm so, so enjoying it.

We have not started watching Season 3 (so no spoilers!). We pre-ordered the DVD's from Amazon and they ship out on Tuesday. Then we'll savor each episode at our very own pace. Plus, we're usually asleep between 9 and 10 pm on Sundays nights, which is when the show actually airs. The children have drained the life out of us by that point.

We're nearly done with Season 2. I have belly dance tonight, so no Downton. We plan to watch the final episode, the Christmas special, tomorrow night.

*pulse races*

My Advent Wreath Shipped!

It's all very exciting! The nativity advent wreath that I ordered last month finally shipped. It was on back order for quite some time. It's not like I need it imminently or anything, but I was worried that it would remain on back order until well after Advent began, so I'm relieved that it's on it's way.

As for my ability to type anything else today, you've about reached my capacity. Anne is still getting us up very early in the morning and I taught 2 classes this morning, which tends to wipe me out. I'm looking forward to a nice evening of knitting, tea, and Mike.

Oh! Today is Tuesday, which means "Aerial America" is on the Smithsonian Channel tonight. Has anybody else seen this show? They have hour-long profiles of all 50 states, it's fascinating. We're such nerds.

Bunheads and overeager undergraduates...

Last night, Mike had some friends over to watch old installments of Mystery Science Theater. These are his colleagues at one of the Catholic colleges that he adjuncts at, so I had a living room full of philosophers. And I hope this doesn't sound sexist, but let me tell you: Men are LOUD. :) In a group, they talk loud, they laugh loud. It's like they're all suddenly hard of hearing. It was all I could do not to interrupt the proceedings to let them know that anybody who woke the baby up was responsible for rocking her back to sleep. Happily, she slept through everything and the men had a great time.

I, on the other hand, retired to our bedroom to knit and watch Bunheads (ABC Family) on demand. Does anybody else watch this show? It's my new on demand obsession. It's by the creator of Gilmore Girls, which was a favorite of both me and Mike. And the characters are dancers, so voila! Instant Tiffany attraction. We've watched 3 episodes so far, and I really like it. Another episode is in the works for tonight. When I first heard the title, I thought the person telling me about it was joking, but no, it's a real show. :) In the absence of Sister Wives, I have to take what I can get.

Anyway, the semester has started here, and the campus is bustling. I always like working on the reference desk at this time of the fall because lots of people need my help and they're always very grateful when I help them kindly. I feel very needed.

*puts on Super Librarian cape*

Although, I helped a male undergraduate earlier that I caught trying to look down my blouse when I leaned over the keyboard. Should I be flattered that he still cared to look? Does he think that I'm even within a 10 year age radius of him? *feels cuter and younger-looking by the moment* Eh, I doubt it. I think it's just an instinct, lol.

More Tudors, lots of knitting

Last night, Mike and I watched the second to last episode of season 2 of The Tudors. All I can say it, I'm glad I prepared myself a vodka & tonic before diving into that one. Not an easy viewing. Innocent people being tortured and executed is not my idea of a good time. I know it was over 500 years ago, but I can't help it, it still makes me incredibly angry. All of those people had to suffer because of one maniacal man. And that's the most charitable characterization I'm able to come up with in this particular instance.

I've found it interesting to learn a bit more about the Reformation. In England, even after splitting from the Church, Henry was still very attached to the liturgy and the Eucharist. Traditional Catholics were not on his good side - the derogatory term 'papist' is tossed about left and right - but yet reformers were also apt to be sentenced to death for any belief differing from Henry's in the traditional Mass as well. Rather baffling, but intriguing all the same.

We have episode 10 tonight, the finale, and I'm certain that we will see the demise of Anne Boleyn. I'm going to make another drink.

Other then that, it's been warm here, but we've been surviving. We go up to bed by 9 pm to revel in our window a/c unit. It hasn't been too bad. And I've happily gotten back into my knitting. I've resolved to make no afghans until the fall comes nearer, but I've been able to work on Mike's mittens and the smaller baby projects that are in my queue. My amigurumi bear is taking shape. He now has a head AND a nose! And his body is being formed as we speak. Little cutie. Hopefully, all will go well when I stuff him, embroider his face, and sew him together. I mean, it's imperative for a bear to have a cute face. Otherwise, what kind of life would that be for him?

Belly dancing with props, and The Tudors turns on my water works...

Two totally divergent topics today, but I'm certain that my dear readers are very used to this :) We'll start with the uplifting first. I had dance class on Friday, and it was super fun and jam packed with exciting new choreography and costuming news. Now that the opening party has passed, I figured that Claire would begin introducing us to some new choreographies in preparation for the fall hafla. I wasn't disappointed.

A drum was mentioned, which always sets my heart aflutter. I love drum pieces, they are my absolute favorite. AND. A prop was brought out. We all practiced swinging one around. Yes, that's right. A belly dance cane! Thank God Claire has liability insurance.

Canes are a traditional belly dance prop (along with veils, swords, and wings. See why I love it so much?) and I've never used one before. I managed to swing one around without breaking a window or anybody's jaw, so that's a good first attempt, I'd say. We're going to be doing a group cane number! I took one home to practice and I'm all excited.

We're also going to be getting new group costumes. This time, we're each going to pick whatever costume we want from the designer Claire works with, just all in the same color. We can each pick whatever style we want. If someone prefers a gown, she can go that route, while another person may choose a traditional bra and belt set or a bra and skirt set. To say that I'm excited about this is a serious understatement. I've already ferreted out the designer, friended him on Facebook, and looked through every one of his photo albums. I can barely get any work done I'm so excited. They are SO PRETTY. Stay tuned on this one. Much beading talk will follow.

Ok, so that was the exciting start to my weekend. It was jam packed with outdoor activities and a birthday party for a little girl in Hank's class at a bounce house facility. Lots of fun. Last night, after putting an exhausted and bounced out Hank to bed, Mike and I settled in for our nightly installment of Showtime's The Tudors. Anybody else watch this?

We're about midway through Season 2. It's very well done. I will say that we do see more people naked than I believe is necessary, and as one would expect, it's quite violent. Overall though, it's extremely compelling.

As the show has moved along, from the plotted extraction of Katherine of Aragon, to the rise and precipitous fall of Anne Boleyn, I've followed along avidly, not able to look away from the intense drama. I think the show does an excellent job of showing how Henry becomes the monster that we all know and hate.

At first he was simply spoiled and used to getting his way. Then, he fell in obsessive lust with Anne Boleyn. And once again, he wanted to get his way, so he tried to seduce her and get her to do what he wanted. She wouldn't. So, what to do next? Try to manipulate the Church thus that Anne would marry him and then do what he wanted. They wouldn't. So he created his own power above the Church. This way, he'd get what he wanted. Suddenly...he has what he wants and its not all fun and rowdy good times like he'd hoped. Now he decides that he wants something different, and will you look at that? Since he's the ultimate authority over everything, *he* can just make it happen! Someone protests? To the Tower. More people protest. Executions abound. He starts to get nervous that his now coveted authoritarian power will be overthrown so he tries to control even the thoughts of his subjects. He makes them all swear to an oath that he is the supreme head of the Church in England, and that's where things get dicey...

Throughout the series, I fell in love with Bishop (ultimately Cardinal) John Fisher and Sir Thomas More. Adorable, the lot of them. I loved how Thomas More was portrayed as the family man that he was. I found it heartening to get a glimpse into the life of a future saint that was a husband and father, rather than a religious. Certainly, I admire our saints who were priests or religious brothers or sisters. It's just that there are so many less of them who had a vocation to married life that it was a fascinating inside look into a person called to the same vocation as me who became a saint. Good stuff.

And that John Fisher! I just smiled through every scene that he was in. He was portrayed as simply so kind, so eager and genuine in his faith, I couldn't help but adore him. Even Mike agreed that he was his favorite character. His arguments were always clear and well articulated, and he did the best job of showing the reasoning behind his beliefs and positions, which appealed to my husband the philosopher.

I knew it was coming. And it came last night. The little introduction screen with the episode synopsis on it had a screen shot of a roughed-up looking Thomas More standing on what appeared to be a scaffold. I sighed.

I tried to steel myself, but it was no use. When Cardinal Fisher is brought to the scaffold, and says his final speech, beseeching everyone to pray for the king, and to pray for him, as he fears death just as anyone would, I started crying. As the enormous crowd cries out "God Bless you, Cardinal Fisher!!! We love you!!" I started bawling. REALLY HARD. After that excruciating interlude, I just went and got the tissue box, because the episode was only half over.

Lots of horrible Tower scenes followed, with Thomas More's family crying and telling him to just take the oath so that he could live. And we all know how this one ends. With another painful scaffold scene, and me crying, again.

"Let it be known that I was the king's good servant. But I am God's first."

This got me to thinking. Cardinal Fisher's situation was different in that he was a celibate priest without a family depending on his care and income. In a sense, that makes it "easier" (if you will) to choose martyrdom. Thomas More had a wife and children. I did understand his wife's plea. He and everyone else would know that should he take the oath, he wouldn't mean it. He could go on believing in his heart that the king was a (fill in the blank; jerk-face? heretic? meglomaniac? The possibilities are endless). But she believed that he should take the oath anyway so that his family wouldn't suffer. They needed his emotional, financial and spiritual support. They wanted his love in physical form, not just from heaven. And should he be executed for treason (as he ultimately was) all of his income and properties would cede to the king, and his family would be homeless and penniless. But I also understood Thomas's position. He felt that it went against his conscience to swear to any such thing, and he couldn't live with himself if he did. What kind of example would he be to his children if he compromised on something so crucial?

So, contemplation time. What would you do? Stand up for your faith regardless of the consequences to your family? Or tell a white lie so that they are spared? It's interesting, is not? I believe we'd all like to think that we'd die for our faith. But this put it in a perspective I hadn't considered before. Thoughts?

The end of an era: Lost...

I had a belly dancing post in mind for today (which I still plan to write later today or tomorrow) but after last night's series finale of Lost, I knew that I had to write about that.

Mike and I have been in love with Lost since the summer of 2006, when we watched the first two seasons on DVD at a frantic pace. We were hooked, and beginning with season 3, we watched every weekly episode with rapt attention. I loved the mysteries and the characters; Mike loved the philosophy and the mythology of the island. We both enjoyed the show immensely.

So, yesterday being the series finale, we really did it up good. We plunked down to start watching the recap show at 7 pm, and watched all the way until the final episode concluded at 11:30, our butts asleep. Here's the one thing (actually, the only thing) that I don't like about living on the East coast: television show times. 11:30 is way, WAY too late to have to stay up to watch a program. It's a perpetual problem over here; we always get the late end of the stick.

At any rate, we psyched ourselves up because we didn't want to miss a moment. We got Hank in bed, Mike made us some martinis, and we settled in for the long haul.

**Spoilers begin, warning...**

All I can say is: When I die, I want the Lost soundtrack playing in the background. So, so emotionally evocative and dramatic. It'll make however I die seem all heroic. I think this is a good plan.

Anyway...we start watching (and drinking) and as is absolutely no surprise, I quickly become emotional. I know that reviews are mixed, but I for one really loved the finale. It satisfied me, I felt that the characters (for the most part) were redeemed of past emotional baggage and were happy. I cried (pretty hard) for at least an hour of the two and a half hour episode.

Emotional hot spots for me: Aaron. All parents know that once you have a child, the way you look at children and their vulnerability is irrevocably changed. You see your child in all of them, and in a split second, without the need for any forethought whatsoever, you would die for them. And Claire's little son Aaron just reminds me so much of Hank. Last night we saw some scenes from when Aaron was about 3, and the shots of him sleeping angelically in his toddler bed, or coming out and seeing his (foster) parents arguing, clutching his stuffed whale, made me cry HARD. I want my Hank to always feel safe, secure and loved.

And then we see Aaron born again, in the alternate timeline, and I cried then too. The cute thing was, that baby was so totally not a newborn, and he seemed to be saying "what is all this crap doing smeared all over me?! Yucky, get it off!" I loved how his little tongue curled up when he cried. I immediately declared that I wanted to have another baby right then and there. Mike arched a brow at me.

I'll move on in a second, but I simply have to insert another baby anecdote. Earlier in the day, I was over visiting our neighbor while Hank played with their little boy. They have a new baby, Lena, who is about 7 months old. I was keeping an eye on her for a few minutes while her mom went to get something for the boys. Lena was sitting on the living room floor, playing with a few baby toys. I was beaming at her. Suddenly, she grabs a big plastic rattle and shakes it a tad too enthusiastically. She brains herself right on the forehead. I cringe, but smile at her hoping to soothe. She stares at me, momentarily stunned by the blow. At least 5-7 full seconds go by as I can see her little mind working:

"Who is that woman over there? What is this rattle doing in my hand? Wait, WHY DOES MY HEAD HURT SO MUCH?! Should I be crying? YES I SHOULD. wwwaaaahHHHHHHHH!"

She is so, so cute. Naturally, I scooped her right up, but she refused to be soothed. She appeared to be both tired and teething, a dangerous combination. Nevertheless, she was tremendously cute, and thus, I was already in happy baby land, contributing to my sobs during the Aaron scenes. Moving on...

Ok, other Lost things last night that I dug. All the religious imagery. The church. I loved the Jesus statue outside, arms open, awaiting takers. And most importantly, I felt that the characters that we've come to love have found the redemption that they have been looking for since season one. I've been wondering about that alternate timeline all season, and for me, it felt satisfying to discover that that universe was actually a purgatory of sorts, a place for our characters to work out their struggles before moving on to the fuller afterlife.

As well, their lives had meaning. The choices that they made, both good and bad, *mattered* to their ultimate destination and to others. Their time on the island was real, and it kept the world a better place for everyone, as well as contributed to their own personal journey of faith. Good, good stuff.

This morning, however, I wasn't feeling so good. Got to bed at midnight, plus 2 martinis, plus cramps = very miserable Catholic Librarian. When I limped downstairs this morning for breakfast, still in my pajamas rather than fully dressed and made up like usual, Mike eyed me worriedly. Much coffee and ibuprofen consumption later, I made it out of the house. Clearly though, I'm less than 100%. We'll get there. At any rate, it was worth it.

New readers, a beautiful spring day, and childbirth of yore...

An odd mix of topics in the title, no? Despite the continuing mountain of work, I'm in a really good mood today. It's a beautiful spring day in Western New York, and...*drum roll*...I've lost 2.5 lbs! This is a big yay. Working nicely toward a goal number that will remain unnamed...

At any rate, I also wanted to mention how thrilled I am that I now have 18 followers!! I love you, my followers! I really, really have grown to treasure this blog. I always enjoyed writing, but never fully found the right outlet for it. I never could keep up a traditional journal, and although I loved creative writing as a young adult, I never pursued that more formally as an adult. This blog is truly ideal for me. I allows me to write and be creative without taking up a lot of time, and I have the opportunity to explore topics that are meaningful to me. It's like my own personal little space in the world :) I'm a happy girl. Just please - never remove yourself as a follower even if you decide never to read my blog ever again - this would devastate me :) Once a follower, a follower FOR LIFE.

One last housekeeping item, and then I'll move on to the topic of the day. My new rosary from Cam at A Woman's Place... is in the mail, so I refrained from entering this week's giveaway lest I become too greedy :) But Cam has a beautiful rosary bracelet with St. Gerard medal up for giveaway this week! Head on over to enter for a chance to win it. St. Gerard is the patron of expectant mothers, so this would be a great gift for yourself or a loved one who is expecting a baby. There are more for purchase at Cam's etsy store, Full of Grace Creations.

Ok. This is going to be one of those Tiffany stories, so settle in with your tea cup. I'm a woman, right? So, all my male readers, I'm certain that you knew this would happen one day. I'm going to talk about CHILDBIRTH. And I'm going to volley around some words that normally do not come up in polite conversation. Anyone who wishes to abstain from such musings, feel free to stop reading now :)

Lately, Mike and I have been watching Season 3 of Mad Men on DVD. What on earth does this have to do with childbirth, Tiffany? Stay with me. Anybody else watch Mad Men? Great show on AMC. It's set around a New York ad agency in the early 1960's. It's a fascinating, nostalgic look back into the culture of that time period. The ad men knock back whiskey during business meetings and pat the secretaries asses at will. And everybody smokes. And drinks. Even the pregnant women. I didn't say it was good nostalgia. It's just a very evocative period piece.

Mike and I watched an episode over the weekend that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. And ***SPOILER ALERT*** If you're catching up with Mad Men, and have not yet gotten to the end of Season 2, don't read any further. You will be spoiled for a major plot development. If you don't care about spoilers, read on...

***SPOILERS BEGIN***

At the end of Season 2, we find out that Don, the main character, and his wife, Betty, are expecting their third baby. At the beginning of Season 3, we see Betty at the end of her pregnancy. The episode that so captured my attention is appropriately entitled "The Fog." The episode opens, and we find that Betty has gone into labor. She and Don hurry to the hospital.

The setting is Summer of 1963. And this is how Betty's labor experience went. Don pushes her in a wheelchair to the main reception desk at the hospital. A nurse greets them.

"Ok, Mr. Draper. Your part here is done. You go to the waiting room and we'll take it from here."

So while Don goes to drink whiskey and read the newspaper in the hospital waiting room, Betty is wheeled to labor and delivery. First, we see her having to fill out a sheaf of paperwork while still in the wheelchair and in terrible pain. Next, we see her in the requisite awful hospital gown (some things never change) in still more pain, as the nurse tells her,

"Ok, Mrs. Draper, we're going to prepare you for delivery now. You will be shaved and given an enema."

This is where those "not so polite" words come into play. The degrading nature of both of these totally unnecessary procedures got my eyes narrowed right away. But the worst was yet to come.

Pretty soon Betty is understandably writhing in terrific pain, and the nurse keeps poking her arms to give her unspecified pain medications despite her protests. She's told that the medication will put her into a "twilight sleep." Soon thereafter, Betty begins to hallucinate. She wanders in and out of consciousness. When conscious, she's still in so much pain that she thrashes and calls out for her husband. The nurses restrain her, tying her limbs to the bed, and telling her that her husband is not permitted to come back.

Next thing we know, Betty is waking up. In her arms is a precariously perched adorable newborn complete with blue cap on little cone head. Don is now in the room. Betty groggily looks at the baby and murmurs,

"Oh, she's beautiful."

Don answers,

"Betts...the baby is a boy."

"Oh. A boy. Yes, a boy."

That's right, her husband, who was in *another wing of the hospital at the time* knew the gender of their baby before she did. In the case of an emergency cesarean section, I could understand this, but not when an uncomplicated vaginal delivery is involved.

This brought back a memory of my own mom telling me about the birth of my older sister, Rhonda, who was born in 1970 and the only one of us for which she had a vaginal delivery.

"oh yes, I remember pushing for a little bit, and then the doctor told me that they'd take it from there, and they put a mask over my face to put me out."

*Catholic Librarian's eyebrows raise to ceiling* "But, but...why would they do that? How could you deliver the baby if you were unconscious?"

"I don't know, I was just grateful."

I was always so shocked by that story I never really knew what to think. Now, after some Googling yesterday, I know that this "twilight sleep" thing was very prevalent into the early 1970's. And, there was a whole lot of buzz about it in the context of this particular episode of Mad Men.

Apparently, the way I felt after watching the episode was the exact reaction the writers were angling to portray. Betty's frantic, pain-filled emotions, the helplessness of her situation, the utter lack of choices or control she had over her birth experience, her isolation from her husband, were so palpable that I'm still thinking about them 2 days later. Granted, there are certain things that can occur during labor that can impact our birth experiences in a way that we did not plan for. This happens all the time. Most women do not plan to have a c-section. But they happen, and you do what is recommended by your doctor for your own health and the safety of your baby.

This was something else entirely. There was a "this is just the way things are done" aura going on, and women did not feel free to question it back then. Having a vaginal delivery, but yet being denied the opportunity to even witness your baby's birth and experience it with your partner just blows my mind. I was speechless after the episode ended, it was just so horrible.

Oh, and this is how it ended. Poor Betty, marooned in the hospital for weeks afterward, is in front of her hospital room window holding the baby, waving to her other 2 children down on the sidewalk below. Because, of course, they were not allowed into the hospital to see their mother or their new brother. Even now, 2 days later, the whole thing still makes me angry.

It all got me to thinking about how glad I am that things are different now. Our births may not always go according to our carefully drawn up birth plans, but we have choices. And thankfully, the culture of 'men in the waiting room' has changed (baring emergency circumstances, of course). I'll never forget the moment that Hank was born. My doctor announced "It's a Henry!" and held him up for us to see. The look on Hank's face, complete with arched eyebrow, clearly seemed to say:

"wtf?"

She put him on my belly and he kicked around and did that adorable little "wah, wah" newborn cry. Mike and I were able to touch him right away and tell him that we loved him. And I'm so grateful that Mike was by my side and not doing shots in the waiting room :)

It was an excellent, excellent episode, and it really made me think hard. We women are called to sacrifice of ourselves in many ways. For some women, one of these ways is through childbirth. And I'm glad that nowadays we have some say in how we experience and offer up that suffering, if that makes any sense.

Ok. Childbirth talk done. At least until I'm about to go through it again myself. Then you'll hear about it again, and in oh so much detail :)

Adventures in knitting, and more Big Love...

Back at work today, and feeling out of sorts. I had a very, very nice weekend, and wish that it continued still. *sighs* Mike and I went to a movie on Saturday (New Moon - don't laugh at us) and then out to dinner. By ourselves. No regular interruptions to address recent potty happenings or what Iron Man is up to these days. It was bliss :)

Also on Saturday, I started over on Mike's hat, and that's where the title of this post comes into play. *huffy sigh* So, leading up to Saturday, I'd had 2 prior attempts on this thing. Let's keep tabs, shall we?

Hat Attempt #1 - floppy; needles too large.
Hat Attempt #2 - stretchy; needles too long.

That brings us to Saturday and my new, perfect needles. After breakfast, and after I did a puzzle with Hank and he hurried off to play by himself for a few minutes, I pulled out my knitting bag. I cast on. I moved through seamlessly, until I uncover a problem of nefarious origin - miscounted stitches. I noticed because I got to the end of the round and suspiciously finished on a knit when I should have been at a purl.

I was only on the first round, so it wasn't worth it to painstakingly make my way *all* the way back around 120 stitches to try and fix it, so I abandoned the attempt.

Hat Attempt #3 - bad stitchery; too many stitches.

I cast on again, and packed the knitting bag to take with me to my parents, who were set to watch Hank for us while Mike and I went out. I knew we would linger at their house a bit to visit afterwards, and I figured I could get a few rounds in while I chatted.

At aforementioned visit, I begin to knit, purl, knit...

I will not repeat the word I said in my head when I realized that I had miscounted my cast-on AGAIN. I thought I had put in an extra stitch so I knit two together to start the first round. I was wrong. I got all the way to the end of the round and was 1 stitch short. *simmers*

Hat Attempt #4 - bad stitchery; too few stitches.

By this point, I was utterly beside myself. I put the hat down for the night. If the needles and yarn are actually making me angry, I know that I need some distance from them. I worked on the lap afghan I'm knitting for Christina. I've made a few mistakes in the afghan, but I've always been able to fix them. It listens when I talk to it and cooperates with directions.

Christina's afghan = GOOD.
Mike's hat = CURSED.

On Sunday, after Mass and some grocery shopping, I did my house chores so that I could get back to the hat. I *really* want to finish it for Mike this winter. This time, I fastidiously counted my stitiches as I cast-on. I counted them again before I started round 1. and I made sure to keep track of my knits and purls as I made my way around. They all lined up. Thrilled, I moved on to round 2. Things kept proceeding well. My gauge measured perfectly. I began to hum as I knit. I felt all domestic and content, knitting a warm hat for my husband.

Intermission - I took a break to go shopping with my mom. In an unsurprising development, the new purse that she bought didn't fit all of her stuff, and I promised to help her select another. I bravely brought Hank along. He did pretty well, actually. After about 10 minutes in the purse department at JC Penney's, he *did* file for conscientious objector status due to his Y chromosome, but all things considered he did well. It was about the time that we found a perfectly designed purse for her, but she rejected it because it didn't come in black, that Hank really began to put up a fuss.

"But mom, why not try a different color?"

"It won't match my coat."

"Your coat is *black*, won't any color match with it?"

She smiled, but put the camel-colored offender back on the shelf. Sigh.

About 30-40 full minutes later, I sped Hank out of the store while my mom checked out so that I could fetch him a cookie and some lemonade at Mrs. Field's. He earned it.

Ok, back to the knitting. After Hank went to bed, I pulled my bag out again. Knit, knit, purl, purl, happy, happy. I finished 8 rounds, and was thrilled with the consistency. Mike was admiring it. And I'm sure you know what's coming. Right around 8:30 pm, as I was preparing to put it aside and relax for the night, I noticed a fatal, beginner knitters mistake:

Hat Attempt #5 - twisty; *SOBS*

I knew of this potential problem, yet I still committed it. Right from round 1, the stiches at one point on the needle cord twisted around. I unwittingly knit into them that way, and then as the hat grew, the twist simply became obvious. At that point, there's no salvaging; you simply have to start over.

I was so upset that I couldn't even talk about it. Mike tried to soothe me, but I stuffed my yarn and needles back into my bag and pouted into the kitchen. It was nearly 9 pm, and I wanted a glass of Chardonnay and to watch Big Love.

Mike approaches me, delicately, as he's a smart boy.

"Hey, sweetie? Do you want to watch the NFC Championship game with me? Or would you rather watch Big Love on the living room tv?"

Even though he'd done nothing wrong, I gave him a pointed look. I wanted to watch Big Love, and I wanted to watch it on the nice, living room flat screen with high definition picture. Mike quickly agreed that that was the best possible plan. He retreated to our bedroom to watch the football game on the teeny tv we keep up there.

I settled on the couch with my wine. I quickly became absorbed with Bill and his wives. He's running for a Senate seat and is trying to keep his polygamist lifestyle hidden. *snorts* I love this show.

As I'm watching, I can hear Mike upstairs, talking to the tv:

"What?! Are you kidding?!"

He's so cute. Every once in a while, I could hear feet padding down the stairs, as he came to update me on the latest interception or fumble. And the beauteous thing here is a gadget that I simply have to go off on a tangent to mention. While Mike is upstairs conversing to the tv, Hank is in the very next room, sleeping soundly. And do you want to know why we don't fear waking him up?

People, if you're going to become parents, you simply must remember these three words:

White Noise Machine.

My, GOD. We didn't discover this until this past year, if you can believe it, and it's been an absolute miracle. Our house is nearly 100 years old, and the complicated ballet dance that we'd have to do to sneak out of Hank's room after he'd fallen asleep without creaking the floor boards involved an agility that I simply don't have. We have this one. It plays nature sounds, or even the sound of a heart beating (for babies, although Hank was in our bed as a newborn, so that would have been moot). We play the waterfall setting, and Hank is happily esconced in his little room and no noise that we make in the house wakes him. But we can hear him, so one doesn't need to worry about it blocking the parents from being able to hear the child. Like I said, MIRACLE.

I happily finished watching Big Love, and I could tell that the football game was heating up just as the credits began to roll. I called Mike down and we watched overtime together. I felt a bit better.

Today, on my way out the door to work, I grabbed the hat bag for my lunchtime knitting group session. The afghan is getting too bulky to lug around easily. So, in about an hour, we will commence:

Hat Attempt #6 - IF THIS ONE DOESN'T WORK, I'M SETTING FIRE TO THE YARN IN THE BACKYARD.

And there you have it. I kind of can't wait to go home, I'm feeling pretty punchy today. The book I'm reading is excellent, and I'm dying to get back to it. Will blog about it tomorrow...

Anybody watch Big Love?

It's a beautiful winter day here in Western New York - Temperatures were in the 20's early this morning, there's a definite wind chill but nothing too terrible, snow is on the ground, and the sky is cloudless and clear. It's really, really pretty outside. A good day to be cozily sipping tea inside. I went out for a short walk in my new Storm Chasers, but was happy to come back inside and warm up. My to-do list is coming along; could be better, could be worse. We have a 3 day weekend approaching, and even though I could really use that day to work, I'm embracing the time off. I need a break. I have bellydance Friday night; Mike and I may rent Julie and Julia Saturday night; Big Love is on Sunday night, and Monday Hank and I may go out to lunch with my mom.

So, Big Love... anybody else watch this? I really like this show. I originally got hooked on it via DVD from the library. We didn't subscribe to HBO, so a friend actually taped them for me to watch last season. This year, we have 3 free months of HBO due to upgrading our Internet package through Verizon FIOS, so score. The season premiere was on last Sunday.

I have a definite affinity for shows and movies with a religious theme, even if they aren't Catholic. Now granted, Big Love is pretty untraditional in this way - it's based on a family of practicing polygamists. One of the things that I like about the show is that it decidedly does *not* glorify polygamy - in fact, it shows very clearly how unrealistic it is for one man to fulfill the emotional, physical, spiritual and financial needs of so many women and children.

In a nut shell - the show centers around a husband, Bill Paxton, who was raised on an FLDS compound. He was ejected from the community as a young man by the prophet. The reasoning seems to surround the older men in the community not wanting competition from the young bucks for the women. He owns a local chain of hardware stores, and lives in suburban Utah. He cut ties with the FLDS, but has still managed to accumulate 3 wives:

Barb (Jeanne Triplehorn)- his first wife. They were married in a traditional Mormon ceremony 12 years ago and have 3 children together. She was a devout member of the LDS church. They had a monogamous marriage until Barb fell ill with cancer. They befriended a woman from the FLDS compound who nursed Barb back to health, leading to...

Nikki (Chloe Sevigny) - the second wife. A devout believer in plural marriage as the way to eternal life in the kingdom. Dresses in traditional FLDS garb, and is the least flexible, but by far the funniest, of the bunch; her father is the prophet. Has 2 little boys with Bill.

Margene (Ginnifer Goodwin) - the third wife. Youngest of the bunch, used to be the babysitter. Raised in a dysfunctional household devoid of religious faith. Seems to enjoy polygamy because she acquired a large family in the mix. She has 3 young children with Bill.

At the end of last season, there was a plot line about Barb being officially ex-communicated from the LDS church because she was discovered as a polygamist. This broke her heart, and she confided to Bill that she missed having a church home. Finally, they addressed something that I had always found odd about the show - the family does not attend religious services of any kind. Bill started his own church (sigh) but in terms of fictional drama, I enjoy that they are finally showing the family as belonging to a community of fellow believers.

Like I said, I see this as a "religious" show. Granted, an adult, dramatic quasi-religious show, but I enjoy it all the same. If your local public library has the first 3 seasons on DVD, I recommend checking them out.