Thank God, today is Friday. Every day at work for the entire semester has been so intense, particularly the past few weeks. Luckily, exams are here, and things seem to be winding down. I'm looking forward to working on some writing this summer.
This morning, Mike had an exam at 8 am, so things were pretty hectic for me since I was getting myself and Henry ready solo. Hank insisted that he wanted to get dressed himself (I was pretty skeptical) and I was amazed when he came down with (a) clothes that matched, and (b) clothes actually *on* his body. Luckily, I thought to check that he had underwear on (yep), and that his pants were on facing the right way (nope) before heading out to pre-k.
When I finally had everything ready, and was ready to go, naturally, Hank had made a beeline for his toy room. I approached the room to the sounds of a Rescue Heroes alert:
"Attention Rescue Heroes! A tornado is approaching! Everyone, take cover!"
And with that emphatic declaration, the Rescue Heroes song kicks on with much inspiration. I walk in to discover Hank dancing dramatically around the room. It was so funny, I didn't mind the fact that I could have been halfway to work if I only had myself to get ready. Ah, the life of a parent. It's a joy, so we keep signing up.
I've been working away on my summer table set, and I'll post pictures when it's done. So far, I've crocheted a table runner and 2 place mats. They all incorporate in summery yellows, pinks and greens. I have 2 place mats to go, and then they all need to be blocked so that they'll lay flatter. I'm enjoying my new seasonal table set habit. I hope to have the summer set done by Pentecost. Liturgically, it's still Easter, so that's what I tell everybody when they wonder why I still have pastel Easter eggs and coordinating colors out on my table. So there :)
I'm all inspired by my desire to start back up an official evening devotion time, per yesterday's post. Poor Hank went to bed sobbing last night, because he wanted to do our prayers first, and we hadn't done them yet. Sweet little procrastinator. He was SO overtired, and he's suffering from seasonal allergies, so he just needed immediate rest. But I like that he treasures our usual night routine so much. Tonight, I'll make sure we get it in before he gets too rundown.
At any rate, I may stop by our local Christian bookstore on my way home today, see if any inexpensive Catholic Bible study catches my eye. As for the Catechism, I think I'm going to try out using it as spiritual reading in the evenings in the form of a reference tool. Each night, I can think of a topic that is on my mind, or page through the index for inspiration, and then read the section(s) dealing with that topic. I'll let you know how it goes :)
This weekend, I'm planning on doing some gardening, crocheting, playing with Hank, and having my parents over for dinner. It'll be fabulous to have a break from work.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Evening devotion time...
Lately, I've gotten out of the habit of my evening Bible reading time, and have been trying to jump start back in. What I find, is that I'll read a chapter for a few days, and then for a few days I'll forget or it'll take longer to get Henry to go to bed, and then I don't have the energy. But the evening just seems like the best time to do it, to me. It's when I'm most relaxed.
I also have a nice copy of the Catechism that I enjoy pulling out to look things up. And I'd like to read through the whole thing. Problem is, as soon as I start reading from cover to cover, I give up before we even get past the reason for our belief in God. Maybe I should see it more as a reference work? But I feel like, as a Catholic, it's my duty to read the Catechism. We have a nice, bound book with all the details of our faith and why we believe in them. How can I not read that?
I have the attention span of a 2 year old. That's part of the problem right there. I've bought booklets with reading suggestions so that I could read through the whole Bible in a year, just picked a book of the Bible and the Catechism and just tried to read a section per night, I've tried all kinds of things. What works for you? I need suggestions. Comments, please :)
I also have a nice copy of the Catechism that I enjoy pulling out to look things up. And I'd like to read through the whole thing. Problem is, as soon as I start reading from cover to cover, I give up before we even get past the reason for our belief in God. Maybe I should see it more as a reference work? But I feel like, as a Catholic, it's my duty to read the Catechism. We have a nice, bound book with all the details of our faith and why we believe in them. How can I not read that?
I have the attention span of a 2 year old. That's part of the problem right there. I've bought booklets with reading suggestions so that I could read through the whole Bible in a year, just picked a book of the Bible and the Catechism and just tried to read a section per night, I've tried all kinds of things. What works for you? I need suggestions. Comments, please :)
Remember the days before they could talk?
It seems to me, sometimes, that we long for those non-talking days, no? I think that thought flashes through all parents' minds at times - like when your child is throwing a category 10 temper tantrum in the middle of Target. Of course, you take the wonderful with the challenging. That's part of our job.
There's the Fort Knox-like way they keep secrets:
*CL and Henry driving home from pre-school*
"Mommy, you going to like it. Oh! I was not supposed to say anything."
"What, Honey?"
"I was not even supposed to say that."
"Is it a secret?" *CatholicLibrarian pictures adorably constructed Mother's Day gift, and smiles lovingly*
"YES. I not supposed to say anything... Want me to tell you?"
"No, Honey. I want it to be a surprise. I can't wait to see what you made."
"It's a tea pot."
Or, the interrogator-like questioning style that they develop rather quickly:
*at BJ's, ordering tires for my car*
"Mommy. Who's that guy?"
"That's the Michelin Man, Sweetheart."
"Who is he?"
"He's...huh. Well, I guess he's a mascot. For tires."
"Is he real?"
"Well, he's a mascot, Honey, so he's not really real."
"Is he a guy in a costume?"
"Yes, Honey."
"Who's inside the costume?"
"I don't know, Honey."
"You have to tell me."
"I'm not holding out on you, Sweetheart, I just really don't know."
"Is it Peter Parker?"
"No, Honey, the Michelin Man isn't a super hero, he's just a tire guy."
And suddenly, the thing that I dreaded from infanthood has come to pass:
"Hi Sweetheart, Mommy's home! Come give me a kiss!"
"No."
"What do you mean, no? Mommy needs a kiss." *eyes narrow*
*Hank backs away, slowly*
*I grab him and kiss his cheeks relentlessly*
Perhaps this is the reason for the reluctance.
There's the Fort Knox-like way they keep secrets:
*CL and Henry driving home from pre-school*
"Mommy, you going to like it. Oh! I was not supposed to say anything."
"What, Honey?"
"I was not even supposed to say that."
"Is it a secret?" *CatholicLibrarian pictures adorably constructed Mother's Day gift, and smiles lovingly*
"YES. I not supposed to say anything... Want me to tell you?"
"No, Honey. I want it to be a surprise. I can't wait to see what you made."
"It's a tea pot."
Or, the interrogator-like questioning style that they develop rather quickly:
*at BJ's, ordering tires for my car*
"Mommy. Who's that guy?"
"That's the Michelin Man, Sweetheart."
"Who is he?"
"He's...huh. Well, I guess he's a mascot. For tires."
"Is he real?"
"Well, he's a mascot, Honey, so he's not really real."
"Is he a guy in a costume?"
"Yes, Honey."
"Who's inside the costume?"
"I don't know, Honey."
"You have to tell me."
"I'm not holding out on you, Sweetheart, I just really don't know."
"Is it Peter Parker?"
"No, Honey, the Michelin Man isn't a super hero, he's just a tire guy."
And suddenly, the thing that I dreaded from infanthood has come to pass:
"Hi Sweetheart, Mommy's home! Come give me a kiss!"
"No."
"What do you mean, no? Mommy needs a kiss." *eyes narrow*
*Hank backs away, slowly*
*I grab him and kiss his cheeks relentlessly*
Perhaps this is the reason for the reluctance.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
My Precious Catholic Child
I haven't posted a picture of Henry recently, so I snapped one of him last night. Here he is, posing with his big wooden rosary beads :)
He was a bit of a challenge last night, but I hung in there. Much duress was involved in getting him home from pre-k (and away from the Lego structure he was building with his friend Alex) and forcing a bath on him. But in between those incidents, all was well. Until we got to bedtime, that is. But that's another story.
At any rate, he has been praying so cutely lately that I simply had to post about it. In the past, our nightime routine included reading some stories out of his children's Bible. We've read through the entire thing several times, and he has some of his favorites memorized - (Jonah and the Big Fish, Adam and Eve, Daniel in the Lion's Den, David and Goliath). I always bring that Bible to church with us, and Hank is very good about paging through it every week, "reading" it during Mass. Lately though, I've noticed that he doesn't request it as much at bedtime, maybe because we've done that for so long. So last week, I pulled our rosary beads out and we started a new bedtime routine, and he seems to be latching onto it quite adorably.
I had gotten him a child's prayer books, let me find a link...ah ha! And suddenly, he's all into it. He likes to open the pages to the 3 traditional prayers, all of which he has memorized - the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be. We say those. Then he likes me to say the Apostle's Creed so that he can recite it back. As you can see, routine-oriented-and-structured Catholic Librarian translates into routine-oriented-and-structured offspring. It's just in the genes.
Next, we move on to one of his new favorites, the Act of Contrition, which he calls "God, I'm Sowy." It's a new version than the one I have memorized, and I dig it. After that, he insists on saying both the morning *and* night prayers, despite the fact that it's 7 pm. And finally, we have to say the "Pwayer for my fwiends." It's all very precious.
Oh! My new rosary beads from Cam over at Full of Grace Creations:
*Very* thrilled with them - I use them every day. I love that the stones are gray, and that it has a Celtic cross, very different from any other rosary that I own. And even though this has nothing to do with anything else in this post, me with my beloved new pink head covering, in headband form:
:) Hope you have a blessed day!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Being a Catholic housewife
My husband has taken to referring to my headcoverings as my "housewife scarves," which he says with a smile and an eyebrow raise, meaning, that he likes them. Because recently, I noticed that I often reach for them to wear on the weekends around the house instead of just twisting my hair up into a bun or a ponytail, like I usually do. And I have to say, I'm enjoying it quite a bit. My hair has gotten longer recently, and I hated feeling I was always wearing it up, just to get it off of my face. The headbands and shorter scarves allow me to wear my hair down, but keep it back out of my way. I adore them.
And I've come to adore acquiring them on etsy a tad too much. I *llooovvveeee* etsy. I mean, it's my new amazon.com. But whereas I was able to replace my amazon book buying habit with a public library card, I'm still spending real money on etsy. I'm a sucker for handmade items, and etsy is a treasure trove. When Mike commented on my newfound crush recently, I made sure to pipe in that he should be grateful I have such wholesome obsessions - you don't normally see support groups popping up dedicated to those who simply cannot help themselves around crafts, books, rosary beads, and head scarves.
Anyway, I'm still awaiting my 2 new additions from Garlands of Grace, but in the meantime...*guilty smile* I found another headcovering vendor on etsy and I tested the waters. They were only $11! And shipping was next to nothing. I barely spent over $20 for 2 coverings. So you see, I'm really still a very good girl :)
The first is this one, which I wore all weekend:
I like, love it. It ties, so it stays put nicely, and it can act as a short scarf or convert to a headband. My precious multi-purpose head covering; I love you so.
The other one is my first experiment with a longer veil:
I wore it to Mass on Sunday. Word to the wise - if you have a covering with both ties *and* snaps (for a taper in the back), do the snaps first. This caused me no end of consternation and muffled swearing for about 10 minutes. Once I figured the snap thing out, my head covering world improved. I like it real well, but I think I now have a definitive preference with these coverings: my absolute favorites are the shorter scarves, and bonus is they can also act as a headband, because I like headbands too. *Tiffany plots future purchases...* You can see where the problem comes in.
Anyway, I happily wore my pink scarf and did some work out in the yard on Saturday. The Catholic Librarian is planning her summer garden, and as you will be unsurprised to learn, she does this with no small amount of overplanning, overstructuring, and overzealousness. I've gotten both front and back weeded pretty well, but you know how weeding is. Two days later, and somehow a weed has not just started to grow back in, but it's a full-fledged young adult weed with wild hair and a bad attitude. How do they do that?! It's infuriating. And I am a ruthless weeder. I go right for the roots.
"Mommy, look at the pretty yellow flower."
"What?! WHERE?!" *spots offending dandelion* *viciously rips its delicate yellow head off*
"Ok, don't worry. We're ok again."
We have fresh dirt, we just need some topsoil, and we're good to go with some annuals and vegetables. I will report back in.
So then, on Sunday, I have yet another installment in what is a continuing saga for parents: Mass With the Children. Not an easy thing.
Henry has suddenly taken to boycotting Children's Liturgy of the Word, and I have no idea why. He says that he's "scared," but he says it with a smirk, so I know that he's up to something. He's declared that he prefers to sit back in the pew with Mommy at church, where he then drives me nuts for a straight hour. Getting into my purse and breaking things. Pulling my hair. Poking me. Whining. You know, all the good stuff.
I will grant, he's not loud and disruptive. For the most part. Nothing like what I will simply call THE INCIDENT from last November, and leave it at that. Now that he's 4, I set high standards for his behavior at Mass, and for the most part he earns at least a B most Sundays. That's pretty good for a boy that age.
I thought about it, and I think my strategy is going to be to just let the children's liturgy thing go. The more I mention it, the more he takes the opportunity to declare that he doesn't want to go and would rather stay with me in church. I think it's newness has worn off and thus it's not so exciting for him anymore. As well, Henry had inherited my shyness. That may have a lot to do with it. He's still at Mass, and that's what's important. We'll get there.
And I've come to adore acquiring them on etsy a tad too much. I *llooovvveeee* etsy. I mean, it's my new amazon.com. But whereas I was able to replace my amazon book buying habit with a public library card, I'm still spending real money on etsy. I'm a sucker for handmade items, and etsy is a treasure trove. When Mike commented on my newfound crush recently, I made sure to pipe in that he should be grateful I have such wholesome obsessions - you don't normally see support groups popping up dedicated to those who simply cannot help themselves around crafts, books, rosary beads, and head scarves.
Anyway, I'm still awaiting my 2 new additions from Garlands of Grace, but in the meantime...*guilty smile* I found another headcovering vendor on etsy and I tested the waters. They were only $11! And shipping was next to nothing. I barely spent over $20 for 2 coverings. So you see, I'm really still a very good girl :)
The first is this one, which I wore all weekend:
I like, love it. It ties, so it stays put nicely, and it can act as a short scarf or convert to a headband. My precious multi-purpose head covering; I love you so.
The other one is my first experiment with a longer veil:
I wore it to Mass on Sunday. Word to the wise - if you have a covering with both ties *and* snaps (for a taper in the back), do the snaps first. This caused me no end of consternation and muffled swearing for about 10 minutes. Once I figured the snap thing out, my head covering world improved. I like it real well, but I think I now have a definitive preference with these coverings: my absolute favorites are the shorter scarves, and bonus is they can also act as a headband, because I like headbands too. *Tiffany plots future purchases...* You can see where the problem comes in.
Anyway, I happily wore my pink scarf and did some work out in the yard on Saturday. The Catholic Librarian is planning her summer garden, and as you will be unsurprised to learn, she does this with no small amount of overplanning, overstructuring, and overzealousness. I've gotten both front and back weeded pretty well, but you know how weeding is. Two days later, and somehow a weed has not just started to grow back in, but it's a full-fledged young adult weed with wild hair and a bad attitude. How do they do that?! It's infuriating. And I am a ruthless weeder. I go right for the roots.
"Mommy, look at the pretty yellow flower."
"What?! WHERE?!" *spots offending dandelion* *viciously rips its delicate yellow head off*
"Ok, don't worry. We're ok again."
We have fresh dirt, we just need some topsoil, and we're good to go with some annuals and vegetables. I will report back in.
So then, on Sunday, I have yet another installment in what is a continuing saga for parents: Mass With the Children. Not an easy thing.
Henry has suddenly taken to boycotting Children's Liturgy of the Word, and I have no idea why. He says that he's "scared," but he says it with a smirk, so I know that he's up to something. He's declared that he prefers to sit back in the pew with Mommy at church, where he then drives me nuts for a straight hour. Getting into my purse and breaking things. Pulling my hair. Poking me. Whining. You know, all the good stuff.
I will grant, he's not loud and disruptive. For the most part. Nothing like what I will simply call THE INCIDENT from last November, and leave it at that. Now that he's 4, I set high standards for his behavior at Mass, and for the most part he earns at least a B most Sundays. That's pretty good for a boy that age.
I thought about it, and I think my strategy is going to be to just let the children's liturgy thing go. The more I mention it, the more he takes the opportunity to declare that he doesn't want to go and would rather stay with me in church. I think it's newness has worn off and thus it's not so exciting for him anymore. As well, Henry had inherited my shyness. That may have a lot to do with it. He's still at Mass, and that's what's important. We'll get there.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Time for prayer amongst the daily grind
*sighs*
I'm exhausted, and it's not even noon. Not a good sign. However, it's a good kind of tired. I'm getting things done at work, and my I get to go home to my boys later. Life is good.
When I arrived home, also exhausted, yesterday, I was thrilled to find a package for me containing the rosary I'd won from the A Woman's Place... giveaway! Ever the seeker of instant gratification, I ripped right into it, much to Mike's amusement. It's positively lovely. It has a beautiful Celtic cross and a Miraculous Medal centerpiece, which are my favorites. The beads are an iridescent gray.
My mom always told me that when you receive a rosary as a gift, the very first time you pray with it you pray for the intentions of the person who gave it to you. Thus, this morning on my way into work, I started a rosary for Cam and family, and their intentions :) I got through 3 decades, but never fear! It will be completed on my way home :)
On my way home, I'm also treating myself to a stop at our local Catholic store to pick up a case for it, so that it won't get scratched up in my purse. I'm terribly excited.
This morning, I've already managed to survive a 2 hour workshop on promotion and tenure, and half of a 2 hour reference shift, so clearly prayers are already being answered. What a long, long day...
I'm exhausted, and it's not even noon. Not a good sign. However, it's a good kind of tired. I'm getting things done at work, and my I get to go home to my boys later. Life is good.
When I arrived home, also exhausted, yesterday, I was thrilled to find a package for me containing the rosary I'd won from the A Woman's Place... giveaway! Ever the seeker of instant gratification, I ripped right into it, much to Mike's amusement. It's positively lovely. It has a beautiful Celtic cross and a Miraculous Medal centerpiece, which are my favorites. The beads are an iridescent gray.
My mom always told me that when you receive a rosary as a gift, the very first time you pray with it you pray for the intentions of the person who gave it to you. Thus, this morning on my way into work, I started a rosary for Cam and family, and their intentions :) I got through 3 decades, but never fear! It will be completed on my way home :)
On my way home, I'm also treating myself to a stop at our local Catholic store to pick up a case for it, so that it won't get scratched up in my purse. I'm terribly excited.
This morning, I've already managed to survive a 2 hour workshop on promotion and tenure, and half of a 2 hour reference shift, so clearly prayers are already being answered. What a long, long day...
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Feeling particularly librarian-like today
*perches glasses on nose*
Given the sheer volume of work on my to-do list of late, I've really been buckling down at work. I've even had to miss my lunch-time knitting group for over a week (I miss you girls!). I've been pretty efficient all week, because, well, I've had no choice. Stuff (much more of it than there ever was) has to get done. Plus, this year marks a bit of a scary milestone for me. I had my final reappointment review last year, which means that preparation of my tenure dossier is a mere 2 years away. And you know what happens to people that don't make tenure. It's true, they don't die, but they have to leave their jobs! This is terrifying.
As I see it, I have 3 major hurdles before me that I need to conquer prior to me feeling comfortable about my chances to get tenure. I'm pretty diligent, so I'm in good shape thus far, but I like to be realistic as well. I need to:
(1) Publish 1 more solo authored article in a peer reviewed journal. I've been trying to work on this all semester, and aforementioned to-do list has always gotten in the way. Summer is my set apart time for having my way on this, and if I still am not able to do it, I may burst into tears right in the middle of the library. Hopefully, this will not happen.
(2) Garner enough faculty interaction so that several of them can write letters of recommendation for my tenure dossier. I'm working on this one, and we're getting there. I'm shy, so this is tough, but I channel Charming Tiffany and all usually goes well.
(3) Get more involvement in the major national professional association, in this case the American Library Association. I've been on a few committees for the round table that I'm a part of, but I've been jonesing for a coveted two-year appointment on a major ALA division committee for *years*. You'd think volunteering to do an undisputably onerous, vexing, and altogether lacking in anything remotely resembling fun activity would make you ripe for selection. Not so. There are *many* librarians out there that need this sort of committee work on their CV's in order to achieve tenure, so competition is fierce.
So, those are my goals for the next two years. Today, I arrived and glanced at my calendar. I have "WRITING DAY" written in bold through the whole day. However, this is what happened:
First, I had a scheduled (short) meeting first thing this morning with one of our technology coordinators about moving our Reference Desk computers to our soon-to-be new home at the Circulation Desk. This summer we will be launching a brand spanking new combined services desk at my library. Such excitement.
Then, I went back to my office. A slew of email awaited me. I slogged through it, and awaited my 10 am student appointment. He never showed. However, at 10:01 a yet different student materialized out of thin air asking if I could help him with something. Of course. That's what I'm here for. I just wish his question related to something other than the literature surrounding heart bypass surgery techniques. That's not exactly my area of expertise.
After that, someone stopped me to have me notarize a document for him. That would be my husband :) I then realized that I needed to compose an email summarizing developments in our pending Reference Desk move to the librarians in my building. Quickly, this document turned into Summa Tiffanyoica. I was pleased with it though, so I sent it off. I haven't gotten any responses back. Hopefully, this does not mean that they all hate me and my nefarious plans.
After that, I was starving, so I scarfed down lunch. I then took a quick walk, because I'm still on my weight loss quest. I got back, and stared at the pile of printed library guides in desperate need of updating on my to-do table. They've been there for a llloooonnngggg time. *sighs* I went through them, so that I can then send them off to our assistant who can make the online changes. Bless her soul.
I then turned to my article pile, but remembered that I have a book that I've been asked to review, and seriously, I've had it since last year. In my defense, between then and now I've reviewed probably a dozen other books, and this was the last one in the stack and it's so, so hard for me to squeeze these reviews in. It's a cool book too, called Contemplative Crochet: A Hands-On Guide for Interlocking Faith & Craft. How totally up my alley is that?
I've started the review, but hark! What is that over there? Yes, it's my pile of article materials. It has dust on it.
Ah, but wait! I have good news. In a complete shocker, I received an email this afternoon notifying me that I've been selected for one of those glorious 2 year division committees, in this case one affiliated with ALA's Reference & User Services Association. SCORE. This is a major coup for your Catholic Librarian. She was happy. She celebrated. This should take care of item #3 on the list. See Supra.
It's all good. But. I'm not going to finish this book review today. And do I have time to finish it tomorrow? It'll be pretty tough between two meetings and a reference shift. And what about Friday? Once again, I see two meetings and a reference shift on there. This is bad. The article will get dustier.
*sighs*
Given the sheer volume of work on my to-do list of late, I've really been buckling down at work. I've even had to miss my lunch-time knitting group for over a week (I miss you girls!). I've been pretty efficient all week, because, well, I've had no choice. Stuff (much more of it than there ever was) has to get done. Plus, this year marks a bit of a scary milestone for me. I had my final reappointment review last year, which means that preparation of my tenure dossier is a mere 2 years away. And you know what happens to people that don't make tenure. It's true, they don't die, but they have to leave their jobs! This is terrifying.
As I see it, I have 3 major hurdles before me that I need to conquer prior to me feeling comfortable about my chances to get tenure. I'm pretty diligent, so I'm in good shape thus far, but I like to be realistic as well. I need to:
(1) Publish 1 more solo authored article in a peer reviewed journal. I've been trying to work on this all semester, and aforementioned to-do list has always gotten in the way. Summer is my set apart time for having my way on this, and if I still am not able to do it, I may burst into tears right in the middle of the library. Hopefully, this will not happen.
(2) Garner enough faculty interaction so that several of them can write letters of recommendation for my tenure dossier. I'm working on this one, and we're getting there. I'm shy, so this is tough, but I channel Charming Tiffany and all usually goes well.
(3) Get more involvement in the major national professional association, in this case the American Library Association. I've been on a few committees for the round table that I'm a part of, but I've been jonesing for a coveted two-year appointment on a major ALA division committee for *years*. You'd think volunteering to do an undisputably onerous, vexing, and altogether lacking in anything remotely resembling fun activity would make you ripe for selection. Not so. There are *many* librarians out there that need this sort of committee work on their CV's in order to achieve tenure, so competition is fierce.
So, those are my goals for the next two years. Today, I arrived and glanced at my calendar. I have "WRITING DAY" written in bold through the whole day. However, this is what happened:
First, I had a scheduled (short) meeting first thing this morning with one of our technology coordinators about moving our Reference Desk computers to our soon-to-be new home at the Circulation Desk. This summer we will be launching a brand spanking new combined services desk at my library. Such excitement.
Then, I went back to my office. A slew of email awaited me. I slogged through it, and awaited my 10 am student appointment. He never showed. However, at 10:01 a yet different student materialized out of thin air asking if I could help him with something. Of course. That's what I'm here for. I just wish his question related to something other than the literature surrounding heart bypass surgery techniques. That's not exactly my area of expertise.
After that, someone stopped me to have me notarize a document for him. That would be my husband :) I then realized that I needed to compose an email summarizing developments in our pending Reference Desk move to the librarians in my building. Quickly, this document turned into Summa Tiffanyoica. I was pleased with it though, so I sent it off. I haven't gotten any responses back. Hopefully, this does not mean that they all hate me and my nefarious plans.
After that, I was starving, so I scarfed down lunch. I then took a quick walk, because I'm still on my weight loss quest. I got back, and stared at the pile of printed library guides in desperate need of updating on my to-do table. They've been there for a llloooonnngggg time. *sighs* I went through them, so that I can then send them off to our assistant who can make the online changes. Bless her soul.
I then turned to my article pile, but remembered that I have a book that I've been asked to review, and seriously, I've had it since last year. In my defense, between then and now I've reviewed probably a dozen other books, and this was the last one in the stack and it's so, so hard for me to squeeze these reviews in. It's a cool book too, called Contemplative Crochet: A Hands-On Guide for Interlocking Faith & Craft. How totally up my alley is that?
I've started the review, but hark! What is that over there? Yes, it's my pile of article materials. It has dust on it.
Ah, but wait! I have good news. In a complete shocker, I received an email this afternoon notifying me that I've been selected for one of those glorious 2 year division committees, in this case one affiliated with ALA's Reference & User Services Association. SCORE. This is a major coup for your Catholic Librarian. She was happy. She celebrated. This should take care of item #3 on the list. See Supra.
It's all good. But. I'm not going to finish this book review today. And do I have time to finish it tomorrow? It'll be pretty tough between two meetings and a reference shift. And what about Friday? Once again, I see two meetings and a reference shift on there. This is bad. The article will get dustier.
*sighs*
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
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 :)
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 :)
Monday, April 19, 2010
Crafts, surly preschoolers, ideas on becoming involved in parish life, and hark...a rosary!
I started off the day kind of down this morning, because I knew that a mountain of work awaited me at the office. Then I logged in and discovered that I had won the rosary giveaway over at A Woman's Place... and all seemed better with the world :) Of course, my husband will ask (ok, he's *already* asked) with arched eyebrows, "do you really need another rosary?" And he asks this not because he disapproves of rosaries, but because I am a bit of a rosary collector :) It's true, I own quite a few rosaries. But I love them, and this one holds special significance because Cam, whom I admire greatly, made it by hand :) I'm super excited.
In other handmade items news, I've been busy with my crocheting lately. I finally finished the shawl I was knitting for my sister Shauna'h:
This baby took me quite a while to create. You can't really see any detail in this picture, but the pattern creates a striped effect, and its quite long. I knitted my brains out for several weeks. I didn't realize when I took up knitting that it takes quite a bit longer than crocheting. This is hard on those of us who are attention span challenged. I am afflicted with GBE Syncrome- Gets Bored Easily. You heard it coined here first. But the nice thing about knitting is how solid the texture turns out. This shawl is *warm*, it's almost like a coat.
Anyway, I've also been obsessed with dish cloths lately. I made this one:
and this one:
as well as this one:
for my mother-in-law for Mother's Day. I secretly covet the middle one, the knitted buttercream multi-color. I'm going to make one for us too :)
I did make this green/white one for us because it matches the accent colors in our kitchen:
but I didn't love the pattern. It was one of those wherein the directions are so complicated that you have to keep looking back at them time and time again, you can't ever get into a rhythm. The others I included above are from a pattern book entitled "2 Hour Dishcloths." 2 hours is about all the time I want to spend on a dish cloth. The attention span thing again.
I have a bunch of projects in the works, including a summer set of placemats and a table runner for our dining room, a spring/summer shawl, and some queued up afghans.
It's not exactly craft related, but I figured it fit here to mention that I test drove the Jessie Steele apron that my good friend Irena gave me at Easter:
There I am, making Aloha Chicken in my new apron. I was thrilled :)
So, for my 'Catholic Stuff' segment I thought I'd relate my struggle with trying to find a way to get more involved in my parish. When we first moved to our house, I switched my membership from the city parish we were attending near our apartment (and that I loved), to one of the nearby parishes. 2 were within easy walking/driving distance. They were about equidistant from our house, so I felt free to select the one that best suited our needs. At the time, Hank was just over a year old, and I can feel the sympathy vibes now, those of you with children at (or just past) that age all want to hug me. That's a tough age to expect children to remain quiet for an hour. And many Sundays, Mike does not attend Mass with me, so I'm kid-wrangling solo. Of course, Mike is happy to watch Hank at home should I feel that it's best to leave him behind, but I tried (and try) to limit that as much as possible. I feel that children belong at Mass as much as practicable.
To make a long story (*snorts*) short, I chose the parish with a cry room. I figured, oh great! This way I can attend Mass without worrying about Hank causing a disruption. Well.
I think cry rooms can be useful. But here's the thing: inevitably, people without a raucous toddler in tow will sit in the cry room, for reasons that I simply cannot begin to explain. And the cry room at this parish was *tiny*. TINY. You get two families in there, and oxygen is running in short supply. As well, I think oftentimes, when parishes have a cry room any parent that chooses not to use them are often made to feel bad. And that shouldn't be. They are there to fulfill a need, but they should not be mandatory for anyone. I was quickly realizing that despite not having to worry about Henry disrupting Mass, I loathed being behind a wall from the rest of the congregation.
And so it went. After a few months, I noticed that I was getting depressed when thinking about going to Mass. I finally admitted to myself that I found that little cry room stifling and isolating. I wanted out.
So I went back to my old parish, in the city. It's a spectacularly beautiful old church, with wonderful priests. And no cry room. But the pews have that little divider in the middle - voila! Instant toddler gate. My depression lifted immediately. I was back in the congregation! I felt part of a community again! It was wonderful.
Last year, the pastor changed the Mass times, and since I had to drive longer in order to get to that church, the changed morning Mass time wasn't working in our morning routine with a 3 year old in tow. So I decided to re-explore the 2 local parishes. I figured as well that with Hank soon to start CCD, it would be nice for him to attend with children from our local neighborhood.
I tried the other parish, the one I didn't select last time because of its lack of a cry room. And I found that I loved it. It's an old parish, with long, established ties in our village. A beautiful church building with all the traditional Catholic elements that I love. I quickly felt at home.
So here I am, a year and a half later, and I still love the parish. But I'm beginning to feel that I'd like to be more involved than simply attending Sunday Mass. I keep scouring the weekly bulletin, looking for something to catch my eye. There is a parish woman's group, but it meets on an evening that Mike teaches, so I can never attend their meetings. I kept wondering what to do, when finally the answer came to me: I should stop worrying about it and just pray that God lead me wherever he wants me to go. So, now I feel better.
Yesterday, I arrived at Mass with a cranky Henry in tow. I scoured the bulletin again, and nothing caught my eye, so I figured I'd try again next week. One of these days, something will present itself, and I'll know that it's the right opportunity. In the mean time, I had to deal with Henry, who grumpily declared that he didn't want to attend the Children's Liturgy of the Word this week, he wanted to stay in the pew with Mommy. Sigh.
In other handmade items news, I've been busy with my crocheting lately. I finally finished the shawl I was knitting for my sister Shauna'h:
This baby took me quite a while to create. You can't really see any detail in this picture, but the pattern creates a striped effect, and its quite long. I knitted my brains out for several weeks. I didn't realize when I took up knitting that it takes quite a bit longer than crocheting. This is hard on those of us who are attention span challenged. I am afflicted with GBE Syncrome- Gets Bored Easily. You heard it coined here first. But the nice thing about knitting is how solid the texture turns out. This shawl is *warm*, it's almost like a coat.
Anyway, I've also been obsessed with dish cloths lately. I made this one:
and this one:
as well as this one:
for my mother-in-law for Mother's Day. I secretly covet the middle one, the knitted buttercream multi-color. I'm going to make one for us too :)
I did make this green/white one for us because it matches the accent colors in our kitchen:
but I didn't love the pattern. It was one of those wherein the directions are so complicated that you have to keep looking back at them time and time again, you can't ever get into a rhythm. The others I included above are from a pattern book entitled "2 Hour Dishcloths." 2 hours is about all the time I want to spend on a dish cloth. The attention span thing again.
I have a bunch of projects in the works, including a summer set of placemats and a table runner for our dining room, a spring/summer shawl, and some queued up afghans.
It's not exactly craft related, but I figured it fit here to mention that I test drove the Jessie Steele apron that my good friend Irena gave me at Easter:
There I am, making Aloha Chicken in my new apron. I was thrilled :)
So, for my 'Catholic Stuff' segment I thought I'd relate my struggle with trying to find a way to get more involved in my parish. When we first moved to our house, I switched my membership from the city parish we were attending near our apartment (and that I loved), to one of the nearby parishes. 2 were within easy walking/driving distance. They were about equidistant from our house, so I felt free to select the one that best suited our needs. At the time, Hank was just over a year old, and I can feel the sympathy vibes now, those of you with children at (or just past) that age all want to hug me. That's a tough age to expect children to remain quiet for an hour. And many Sundays, Mike does not attend Mass with me, so I'm kid-wrangling solo. Of course, Mike is happy to watch Hank at home should I feel that it's best to leave him behind, but I tried (and try) to limit that as much as possible. I feel that children belong at Mass as much as practicable.
To make a long story (*snorts*) short, I chose the parish with a cry room. I figured, oh great! This way I can attend Mass without worrying about Hank causing a disruption. Well.
I think cry rooms can be useful. But here's the thing: inevitably, people without a raucous toddler in tow will sit in the cry room, for reasons that I simply cannot begin to explain. And the cry room at this parish was *tiny*. TINY. You get two families in there, and oxygen is running in short supply. As well, I think oftentimes, when parishes have a cry room any parent that chooses not to use them are often made to feel bad. And that shouldn't be. They are there to fulfill a need, but they should not be mandatory for anyone. I was quickly realizing that despite not having to worry about Henry disrupting Mass, I loathed being behind a wall from the rest of the congregation.
And so it went. After a few months, I noticed that I was getting depressed when thinking about going to Mass. I finally admitted to myself that I found that little cry room stifling and isolating. I wanted out.
So I went back to my old parish, in the city. It's a spectacularly beautiful old church, with wonderful priests. And no cry room. But the pews have that little divider in the middle - voila! Instant toddler gate. My depression lifted immediately. I was back in the congregation! I felt part of a community again! It was wonderful.
Last year, the pastor changed the Mass times, and since I had to drive longer in order to get to that church, the changed morning Mass time wasn't working in our morning routine with a 3 year old in tow. So I decided to re-explore the 2 local parishes. I figured as well that with Hank soon to start CCD, it would be nice for him to attend with children from our local neighborhood.
I tried the other parish, the one I didn't select last time because of its lack of a cry room. And I found that I loved it. It's an old parish, with long, established ties in our village. A beautiful church building with all the traditional Catholic elements that I love. I quickly felt at home.
So here I am, a year and a half later, and I still love the parish. But I'm beginning to feel that I'd like to be more involved than simply attending Sunday Mass. I keep scouring the weekly bulletin, looking for something to catch my eye. There is a parish woman's group, but it meets on an evening that Mike teaches, so I can never attend their meetings. I kept wondering what to do, when finally the answer came to me: I should stop worrying about it and just pray that God lead me wherever he wants me to go. So, now I feel better.
Yesterday, I arrived at Mass with a cranky Henry in tow. I scoured the bulletin again, and nothing caught my eye, so I figured I'd try again next week. One of these days, something will present itself, and I'll know that it's the right opportunity. In the mean time, I had to deal with Henry, who grumpily declared that he didn't want to attend the Children's Liturgy of the Word this week, he wanted to stay in the pew with Mommy. Sigh.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Barely able to catch my breath...and, being a Catholic in difficult times
The past few days have been *crazy* at work. The only reason I'm even able to blog right now is because I'm at the reference desk and I have a temporary lull in activity. Yesterday, when I got home I was (a) tired, (b) headachey, and (c) cranky. It's just been like that all week. I couldn't possibly be more excited about the fact that it is Friday. We have a cold front blowing through today, so although I don't think I'll get out to plant my seeds tomorrow, I do plan to commence my vegetable gardening research in earnest. Looking forward.
Now that I have a chance to breathe today, I was pondering blog topics that I store up in my little brain. One of them is what I call "Why Am I a Catholic?" heavily related to "Being a Catholic When It's Not So Popular." This is a topic near and dear to my heart, because my faith is so important to me. Yet, I'm a quiet person, so it's not something I really talk to people about unless they explicitly ask me. The reason this is on my mind I think is fairly obvious to everyone: the Church has been in the news lately about some child abuse cases.
Whenever the Church is in the news for something disturbing and/or generally unflattering in some way, the same reactions start to make themselves known. All sorts of people publicly declare that they won't give money to the Church anymore, that they feel ill at ease attending Mass or the sacraments, and overall that they just don't want to be Catholic anymore.
For whatever it's worth, this is my take on things: I always cringe when I hear those reactions. Because, let's face it, priests are human, and humans are going to make some pretty awful choices sometimes. But all of us are going to be held accountable for those choices before God someday. All we can do is try to put things right again in humility. So these types of terrible things that happen do horrify me (as well they should), but they do not shake my faith in the Church as the pillar and foundation of our Christian lives.
In my opinion, for many people that leave the Church, their faith (and their attachment to the Church) wasn't that strong at that point to begin with. I'm certainly not pointing negative fingers here; our faith lives are a journey, and everyone is at different places. I know what it feels like to struggle spiritually; it's not fun. But lashing out at the Church as a whole is not the answer. Weed the unhealthy vines, certainly, but hang on to the foundation.
Catholicism is the faith of my ancestors, but it's also the faith of my heart. To the extent that my piddly witness can work for the good of the Church, I pray that it bears fruit. In the end, I try to be a good Catholic, but oftentimes I fail. And sometimes, so we do we all.
I suppose it's never going to be popular to be Catholic. The whole celibate male priesthood in and of itself makes the Church ever so unpopular in everyday conversation, not to mention sanctify of human life and sexuality issues. In my mind, the day the Church becomes popular in the secular culture would be the day that would alarm me the most.
That's about all the brain power I have for today. I wish everyone a blessed weekend and holy Sabbath day :)
Now that I have a chance to breathe today, I was pondering blog topics that I store up in my little brain. One of them is what I call "Why Am I a Catholic?" heavily related to "Being a Catholic When It's Not So Popular." This is a topic near and dear to my heart, because my faith is so important to me. Yet, I'm a quiet person, so it's not something I really talk to people about unless they explicitly ask me. The reason this is on my mind I think is fairly obvious to everyone: the Church has been in the news lately about some child abuse cases.
Whenever the Church is in the news for something disturbing and/or generally unflattering in some way, the same reactions start to make themselves known. All sorts of people publicly declare that they won't give money to the Church anymore, that they feel ill at ease attending Mass or the sacraments, and overall that they just don't want to be Catholic anymore.
For whatever it's worth, this is my take on things: I always cringe when I hear those reactions. Because, let's face it, priests are human, and humans are going to make some pretty awful choices sometimes. But all of us are going to be held accountable for those choices before God someday. All we can do is try to put things right again in humility. So these types of terrible things that happen do horrify me (as well they should), but they do not shake my faith in the Church as the pillar and foundation of our Christian lives.
In my opinion, for many people that leave the Church, their faith (and their attachment to the Church) wasn't that strong at that point to begin with. I'm certainly not pointing negative fingers here; our faith lives are a journey, and everyone is at different places. I know what it feels like to struggle spiritually; it's not fun. But lashing out at the Church as a whole is not the answer. Weed the unhealthy vines, certainly, but hang on to the foundation.
Catholicism is the faith of my ancestors, but it's also the faith of my heart. To the extent that my piddly witness can work for the good of the Church, I pray that it bears fruit. In the end, I try to be a good Catholic, but oftentimes I fail. And sometimes, so we do we all.
I suppose it's never going to be popular to be Catholic. The whole celibate male priesthood in and of itself makes the Church ever so unpopular in everyday conversation, not to mention sanctify of human life and sexuality issues. In my mind, the day the Church becomes popular in the secular culture would be the day that would alarm me the most.
That's about all the brain power I have for today. I wish everyone a blessed weekend and holy Sabbath day :)
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