I really dislike potty humor.

I don't quite know what the fascination is with kids and potty humor, but I really can't stand it. Most of the time, I'm spared from the annoyance of such humor, but on the occasions when it hits, it's usually over the top.

Tonight as I'm putting the girls to bed Madeline tells me that her class had to go downstairs to use the girls' room because the one upstairs was out of toilet paper. Ok, no big deal, right? Of course not! There had to be a catch to this story. Madeline informed me that there was "butt hair" on the toliet seat in the girls' room. I made the mistake of asking her how she knew where the hair came from. Why oh why did I stupidly ask a question that I didn't want to know the answer to? She didn't know how she knew, but she informed me that some people have butt hair. (And, I want no comments about my bathrooms, please. I have a hairy husband.) Let me just tell you that I find this highly disturbing given that I grew up in a house with non-hairy people. All I can think is she has heard me complain to my friend (who also has a hairy spouse) about a certain bathroom cleaning issue. Ugh!

As if the Madeline portion of this discussion wasn't bad enough, Ellie latched on to the words "butt hair" and wouldn't stop repeating them and laughing. And mind you, it was infectious laughter. It took a good five minutes for me to regain order and get my girls tucked in.

Potty humor stinks! I look forward to the days when neither one of my girls is fascinated with it.

Who says flattery will get you nowhere?

When I was in high school I had plenty of teachers who would utter the phrase "Flattery will get you nowhere." quite often. Let's just say that I'm a born wheeler and dealer and I'll work every angle I can to get what I want. It actually works most of the time, but still, people tell you it doesn't work. I think it works. It worked on me to a degree today.

I had about twenty minutes of silence this morning and I had full intentions of using that time for a higher purpose [praying the rosary]. About a minute into my twenty minutes of peaceful silence, the phone rang. I didn't recognize the name on the caller id, but something made me answer the phone. Turns out the religious ed director had given my name and number to the coordinator for the 11:15 CCD classes. She took on the task of substituting for the kindergarten CCD class this coming Sunday and was at a total loss for what she needed to do. In conversation with this very nice woman, she told me that the DRE suggested that she call me because I was really good at what I do. Honestly, I'm not sure where she got that. I don't think the deacon or the DRE (that's the deacon's wife) have ever observed my class , so other than the coloring pages I have them copy for my class, they have no idea what I do with my class. (I suppose it's possible they could have peeked in my class without me realizing it.) I could be teaching them how to perfect the art of spitballing for all they know. (I assure you I'm not.) Anyway, I was flattered that the DRE spoke so highly of me.

So as I talked to this very nice woman who has been losing sleep over teaching this one class, I decided that I could offer her more than just a little guidance on how to teach the class. I decided to write up a lesson plan for her [for a chapter that I had decided to skip for my own class]. She expressed concern that she would finish the chapter well before Mass was over and wasn't sure how she'd fill the void. So I told her I could give her a few coloring pages to copy for the class and suggested that she pick a Bible story to read during the class (a favorite time filler of mine). She had no idea how many kids were in the class, but I got her to check with our DRE and get a number. The mother of the twins in my class gave me a very generous gift card two weeks ago to buy crafts for my class. Since I usually buy the crafts when they're on sale or with a 50% off coupon, I know I'll have enough to cover at least 12 crafts for my class [in addition to the plethora of crafts I purchased over the Summer]. The nice thing about the craft kits I buy is they usually have enough for 23-30 children and given that my class only has 8 students [9 if we count the child who has never shown up], I wind up with lots of extras. I figured the least I could do was help this woman out and offer her a craft to keep the kids busy. I just have to say that I was shocked when she called me back and told me there are 16 kids in that one class. We could combine both 9:15 kindergarten classes and still have a smaller class. I never dreamed that the 11:15 Sunday time slot would be more popular with the parents. Personally, I'd rather get CCD done early and enjoy the rest of the day doing family things.

Despite the fact that I had to construct a lesson plan and take time out of my afternoon, I'm really happy that I was able to help. Tomorrow I'll be meeting her at the parish office to go over the lesson plan and the craft I put together for the class. It helped keep me from worrying about Bryan's upcoming flights home. Now that he's getting ready to take off, I have plenty of time to worry for his safety.

Madeline's Baptism

Oftentimes, dates fly past me and I realize after the fact that the date had some significance attached to it. This happens quite often with the dates of my girls' baptisms. Mainly, Madeline's. Ellie's is a little harder to forget because it falls two days after our wedding anniversary and it's usually very close to Thanksgiving [November is a month that holds a lot of important dates for our family].

I realized a few minutes ago as I was dusting the photos on my mantle that today is the anniversary of Madeline's baptism. Unlike her sister, Madeline did not have the standard production line baptism. She was baptized at her great grandfather's church in Philadelphia. And since Pop was at Mass every Saturday night, Fr. Francis made an exception and agreed to baptize Madeline during the Saturday night vigil Mass. Madeline was the only baby being baptized at that Mass and it was the most beautiful baptism I have ever attended. To this day, family members (Catholic and non-Catholic) still talk about Madeline's baptism. Actually, even friends of the family from Philly who I only ever meet at funerals still go on about her baptism. After she was baptized, Fr. Francis hoisted my not quite two month old soundly sleeping daughter over his head and walked her up and down the center aisle of the church for all to see while the grandmothers stood there in shock worried that the priest might drop their only grandchild on the tiled floor. Her baptism looked like something you'd expect for royalty. I've never seen anything like it before and I doubt I'll ever see anything like it again.

A few years after her baptism, Fr. Francis was moved to another parish. I, for one, was sad to see him go. I liked how he'd point Madeline out anytime we'd go to Mass there [even if it was during a crowded Easter Sunday Mass] when he was giving his homily and go off on a tangent and tell everybody about her baptism and how much her great grandfather adored her. If I recall correctly, he even talked about her during Pop's funeral Mass.

It's hard to believe that eight years have passed since Madeline's baptism. The day is still very fresh in my memory. It's a day that is simply rich with memories. And as solemn and beautiful as the day was, it also had a little humor. Fr. Francis had a practice of carrying the newly baptized babies up to the sanctuary and walking around with them up there. Before giving the baby back to the parents, he would lay the baby on the altar for a moment. Sound asleep Madeline shocked him when she was the first ever to let one rip on the altar. Let's just say that Fr. Francis was rather surprised and went on about how he couldn't believe what had just happened for several minutes. It's one of those stories that comes up from time to time at family gatherings.

Easily forgotten?

I'm feeling rather lonely at the moment. The kids are in bed, a certain spousal figure is in another part of the country (Texas to be exact) and even Mr. Furkins has decided that curling up in his crate is preferable to sitting in the family room and watching TV with me. Have I really been dissed by the family dog? It certainly feels that way.

I try not to be a nag, but I find it very irritating that my husband seemingly forgets about me when he travels. He called to let me know he landed safely this afternoon. Then, he called to say hello to the girls in the early evening, only he didn't get to talk to Ellie because she decided to take a nap (I'm still shocked at her recent interest in napping--where was that two years ago?). So Bryan managed to duck out of his meeting for a few so he could say good night to the girls when it was their bed time. I got to talk to him for a few seconds and he assured me that he'd call me soon. He always tells me he'll call me soon. Sadly, soon in his mind is usually several hours later. I reminded him that I didn't want him calling me at 1am or 4am like he did on his last trip. Here it is 11pm and I suspect that he won't be calling me anytime soon. When I call him while he's gone I usually interrupt a meeting or a business dinner so I do my best not to call and look like the nagging wife.

So as I sit here feeling oh so bored and lonely, I'm anything but comforted knowing that next week I'll be in this same situation again. I guess I should just be thankful that his trips are much shorter now than they were before Ellie was born and that they are much less frequent, too.

Ooh! I remembered!

Ok, so this isn't an earth shattering post, but it amuses me. I am forever making fun of Bryan for watching horrible movies of the 80's and occasionally the 70's. Since I had a rather sheltered existence as a child, I am not familiar with many of the litany of bad 80's movies Bryan fondly remembers and can't believe I've never heard of or seen.

This Saturday as I was sitting around trying to relax before my weekly hour of "let's see what I can do to torment Mommy in public" also known as going to Mass alone with the kids (No, I'm not the least bit annoyed that my husband no longer comes with us. Don't worry dear, I'll pray for your soul while you sit at home and watch movies or play video games.) I got sucked into a Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris movie that Bryan was watching. To be fair, the movie was really bad. It had to have been from the 70s based on the color of the picture, the super cool clothing and the general awesomeness of the movie. So how did I get sucked in? Well, there was a commentator that made observations about the movie as it went to commercials and when I heard that there would be some chest hair ripping, I was hooked. You see, just before the movie went to commercial, it was revealed that Chuck Norris had more chest, shoulder and back hair than Austin Powers. I'm sure I've mentioned my fascination with removing mutant hairs from Bryan's ears at least a few times. Well, the lure of seeing Bruce Lee ripping chest hair off of Chuck Norris was too much for me to resist. I found the scene to be rather amusing, and Bryan thought it was pretty funny that I decided to sit and watch the movie because it included hair removal.

Hmm...I forgot what I wanted to say.

I'm finding with increasing frequency that I can't remember half of the things I want to do or say. I'll pick up the phone and call my mom or best friend and realize once they answer that I don't recall why I even called them in the first place. And now, I'm finding that this not so lovely phenomena has spilled over into blogging. Yay!

I know I had something moderately interesting to write about, but at the moment I can't figure out what on earth it could possibly be. It's sad, really, because a primary function of this blog is for me to chronicle the funny little things I encounter in my life as Mommy. Perhaps I'll remember soon what it was that I have been meaning to write for almost two days.

Book Review: The Mass: A Guided Tour

My latest foray into reading has been The Mass: A Guided Tour written by Thomas Richstatter. I have to say that while I felt some points soared over my head while reading the book, I came to the startling realization at Mass this past Sunday that, in fact, many of them had not. Reading this book can certainly deepen your understanding of the Mass, and quite frankly that shocked me given that I've already been subjected to several poignant explanations of the Mass. Will I ever completely wrap my head around it all? Maybe not. (I still don't understand how telephones and the internet actually work--I'm serious.) But I can tell you that the explanation put forth in this book has certainly stuck with me, and I'm fairly certain that it has transformed my view.

So you're probably wondering what the deal is with this book, right? We'll, the book is broken down into two parts. Part one looks at the "Four Mysteries". There is a chapter for each mystery. They are Christmas, Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I have to say it was within part one of this book that I came to the realization that perhaps this book isn't what I was expecting as I came to wonder why some of the explanations seemed like they were just beyond my grasp of understanding. I'm sure a lot of my confusion has to do with the fact that the author's method of explaining the Mass is different from how it has been explained to me in the past. Part two of this book is called "A Symphony in Four Movements". This part jived better with my own understanding of the Mass and as a result, I enjoyed this portion of the book the best. The chapters in this section discuss essentially what we are doing when we go to Mass.

In the introduction for this book it is explained that in many ways this book is more of a pilgrimage than a tour. It's a pilgrimage because this book will transform your view of the Mass. When I first read this, I was thinking to myself "Oh sure, this book is really going to change my view." (insert skeptical "I'll believe it when I see it" tone here). So when I realized at Mass this past Saturday that apparently reading this book had changed my perspective a bit, I found myself eating my words. I'm fairly certain that my difficulty in understanding certain portions of the first part of this book has to do with me and not the author. He really does do a good job at explaining all the components of Mass. I'm confident that I was simply thrown off by his approach which as I have already mentioned is different from how the Mass had previously been explained to me.

This book review was written as part of the Catholic book reviewer program for the The Catholic Company. Visit The Catholic Company to find more information on The Mass: A Guided Tour. As a reviewer for The Catholic Company, I was provided with a free copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.