NINE Reasons to Love Katie

1

She's full of spunk.

2

She's queen of the girlies, but she's sweet enough to let the little girlies think they're the queens.

3

She's got a flair for the dramatic.

4

She has an amazing, almost magical imagination.

5

She's ever so happy to make things with her hands.

6

She's a fiercely loyal friend.

7

She's a tender big sister.

8

She's a social butterfly.

9

She loves Bible stories.

Happy Birthday, Kirsten Therese!

We love you.

Intentional Weekend: Frying Pan Park

Five Minute Friday: Older

I breezed by the hospital today for routine bloodwork. I parked just beyond the Birthing Inn, and I was flooded with memories: the sight of Mike's tennis shoes just beneath the curtain signaling that I could indeed birth that baby because dad had arrived; Nicholas bursting on the scene on that magical night just a tick or two before midnight; Katie and the unexpected c-section and the long hospital stay; Karoline and the absolute perfection of that October; the days spent anxiously in the triage room and then the awful, wrenching feeling of walking through the Birthing Inn doors and away from the building when I left sweet Sarah Annie in the NICU. I was transported back by that place, back as far as thirteen years -- to a younger me. I did not walk through those doors today.

I walked instead through medical office building doors. Just routine bloodwork. I sat in the waiting room, foregoing the ubiquitous copies Fit Pregnancy for my knitting bag. There I sat, peering beneath my glasses, because to look through the lenses makes everything close up appear blurry. 

Yep.

Older.

{Wow. That wasn't  very cheerful was it? According to Lisa-Jo, the deal is only five minutes, so I will not have time to elaborate upon the good in older. Besides Sarah has come to climb all over me. It's time to snap things shut here. But hey, I have kids climbing all over me, so it's good, right?. Visit Lisa-Jo for more Five Minute Friday fun.}

And hey, happy weekend! Stay dry, be safe and thanks so much for stopping by.

No Dear, Those Aren't Real Cupcakes

Sometimes Laughter Heals

Ever since The Fr. Corapi Matter became fodder for the blogosphere and Facebook and Twitter, I've avoided it. Really, really avoided it. Not reading comentary, not reading comments on the commentary. I haven't heard his statement, though I've had the gist of it explained to me by a friend who knows why I'm avoiding the whole mess. 

About six years ago, a new (to us) priest rode into town. Over the time he was here, he behaved in a manner unbecoming a priest. Lots of families "experienced" this behavior firsthand. Phrasing things delicately here. It's a long story--one I will never tell publicly--but in the end, an entire community of faith was scandalized. Countless families were hurt. "Ah," you object, "how can you say that? How can you just make those claims? Just throw them out there like that? What proof have you? Maybe he's just a really friendly guy and you misinterpret?"

In this case, the claims proved themselves. He is no longer a Catholic priest. The former choir director is no longer married to the father of her three children. And they are going to be married this summer. You can imagine, if you allow yourself to go there, how the children of this neighborhood do question when Former Father picks Former Choir Director's Children up from school. Those are difficult questions to answer.

The teenaged questions are much, much harder.

And the grown up questions? They will not be answered adequately on this side of heaven. 

There's a whole lot of hurt here in this town. A whole lot. And Fr. Corapi? It just opens  a not-even-close-to-healed wound. 

So when my friend insisted on giving me the quickest version of the story that she could (insiting that I really can't work in the Catholic press and bury my head in the sand--good point), I was very grateful that she closed her little speech with a link to this post.

Matt, Patrick, thank you. I had no idea how much I  needed to laugh. 

You guys get it. You really understand. And you do that guy thing--where you heal very real pain with a little levity.

Good for you.

Good for all of us.