Bad Mommy
Nothing makes a parent feel worse than knowing you've caused harm to your child.
Poor Claire had a terrible rash all over her torso on Saturday that I didn't discover until fairly late in the day. I rushed to my Practical Pediatrician book to try to figure out what was wrong. Joel said, "looks like hives to me."
Hives. Ugh. Not another allergy to figure out! This summer she proved to be allergic to raw tomatoes. Could this be a food allergy? Hmm, those give you hives all over. Her rash was only on the chest and back and stopped at the diaper line.
Epiphany: evil new undershirt! Gerber onsies come nice and stiff from the pack thanks to some sort of starch or sizing. Claire's allergic to that.
Fortunately, her rash cleared up by this morning with a bath, benadryl and hydrocortisone cream. I was somewhat heditant to put her in Sunday School yesterday, mostly because of my fears about what her teachers might think of my parenting. What good mother gives her children rashes? Well, my pride be darned, she loves her class, so off she went with a note from Bad Mommy that she's not contagious, just sensitive skinned.
Now I know to prewash anything new that's stiff. Doh!
1.27.2005
Infinite capacity for self-deception
I recently finished re-reading Susan Howatch's Scandalous Risks, the only of her Church of England series with a female narrator. The story dovetailed well with the Bible study lesson I prepared this week on Matthew 5:27-32.
Venetia Flaxton, a noblewoman in her 20s, strikes up an unusual friendship with one of her father's friends, a 61-year-old married clergyman. When they begin corresponding about her spiritual questions, trouble begins. Emotional entanglement ensues, and the two of them also begin stealing moments of passionate hndholding, then embraces, then kissing, then petting. The clergyman Aysgarth uses an emerging strand of liberal theology to justify the relationship. In his mind, they love each other, and as long as there is no int3rc0urse, there is no adultery.
This line of reasoning is exactly what Jesus denounces in the Sermon on the Mount. Sexual sin is much more a slippery slope than Aysgarth would like to think. Even without "technical" adultery, the relationship is very destructive, especially to Venetia, a spiritually confused young woman who most needed guidance, not manipulation and exploitation. Because he wouldn't metaphorically "cut off his hands" and give up the companionship, intellectual stimulation and joy of the inappropriate friendship, he ends up in a kind of hell. He wrecks his career and watches several of his children slowly self-destruct. Even when Venetia does find the strength and support to cut off the relationship, she also ends up in a kind of hell. She marries a man she doesn't love to protect Aysgarth, and ends up in self-destructive despair.
The women at my Bible study got into some really good discussion about what it might mean for us to "pluck out our eyes" or "cut off our hands" to avoid temptation. One person mentioned leaving a good job because a coworker flirts with you. Another mentioned cancelling cable and buying filtering software for the computer.
Because Scandalous Risks tackles the slippery slope of infidelity in an unsalacious (yet very readable) manner, I found it a good antidote to the junk I really should stop watching on TV.
I recently finished re-reading Susan Howatch's Scandalous Risks, the only of her Church of England series with a female narrator. The story dovetailed well with the Bible study lesson I prepared this week on Matthew 5:27-32.
Venetia Flaxton, a noblewoman in her 20s, strikes up an unusual friendship with one of her father's friends, a 61-year-old married clergyman. When they begin corresponding about her spiritual questions, trouble begins. Emotional entanglement ensues, and the two of them also begin stealing moments of passionate hndholding, then embraces, then kissing, then petting. The clergyman Aysgarth uses an emerging strand of liberal theology to justify the relationship. In his mind, they love each other, and as long as there is no int3rc0urse, there is no adultery.
This line of reasoning is exactly what Jesus denounces in the Sermon on the Mount. Sexual sin is much more a slippery slope than Aysgarth would like to think. Even without "technical" adultery, the relationship is very destructive, especially to Venetia, a spiritually confused young woman who most needed guidance, not manipulation and exploitation. Because he wouldn't metaphorically "cut off his hands" and give up the companionship, intellectual stimulation and joy of the inappropriate friendship, he ends up in a kind of hell. He wrecks his career and watches several of his children slowly self-destruct. Even when Venetia does find the strength and support to cut off the relationship, she also ends up in a kind of hell. She marries a man she doesn't love to protect Aysgarth, and ends up in self-destructive despair.
The women at my Bible study got into some really good discussion about what it might mean for us to "pluck out our eyes" or "cut off our hands" to avoid temptation. One person mentioned leaving a good job because a coworker flirts with you. Another mentioned cancelling cable and buying filtering software for the computer.
Because Scandalous Risks tackles the slippery slope of infidelity in an unsalacious (yet very readable) manner, I found it a good antidote to the junk I really should stop watching on TV.
1.25.2005
Contenders
When the Oscar nominations were announced this morning, I realized I'd seen almost none of the films. I do have an opinion about one category, however: Animated Feature.
My vote goes strongly for The Incredibles. The premise is tied to a genre, yet is so fresh and original that it definitely deserves the nomination for best original screenplay. The humor is multi-level, full of slapstick for the kids (and Stooges fans), snappy one liners, and humorous allusions to film, literature and pop culture. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard during a film.
At the same time, the film delivers action-packed suspense and touching relationships between characters. I found the morals of loyalty, bravery, community and responsibility put forward without the story getting mired down or seeming preachy. It drove home the evils of envy: the villan is a brilliant inventor who could be using his gifts to the betterment of humanity, but he ends of driven mad by his envy of others' innate gifts, to his ultimate destruction.
Please weigh in on your favorite among the nominees: A Shark's Tale, Shrek 2 or The Incredibles.
When the Oscar nominations were announced this morning, I realized I'd seen almost none of the films. I do have an opinion about one category, however: Animated Feature.
My vote goes strongly for The Incredibles. The premise is tied to a genre, yet is so fresh and original that it definitely deserves the nomination for best original screenplay. The humor is multi-level, full of slapstick for the kids (and Stooges fans), snappy one liners, and humorous allusions to film, literature and pop culture. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard during a film.
At the same time, the film delivers action-packed suspense and touching relationships between characters. I found the morals of loyalty, bravery, community and responsibility put forward without the story getting mired down or seeming preachy. It drove home the evils of envy: the villan is a brilliant inventor who could be using his gifts to the betterment of humanity, but he ends of driven mad by his envy of others' innate gifts, to his ultimate destruction.
Please weigh in on your favorite among the nominees: A Shark's Tale, Shrek 2 or The Incredibles.
1.23.2005
Snow days!
We're kicking back and enjoying our first big snowstorm of the season. The first flakes began yesterday morning, as we watched a flock of corpulent robins take up residence in our juniper tree (below).
Between bouts of gorging themselves on the ripe, silvery-blue berries, the jolly birds perched alternately on the porch rails or rocking chairs and fluffed up their feathers to even more rotund proportions. How fun to offer hospitality so effortlessly.
This morning we missed attending church because the roads were treacherous, public transit is offering only spotty service and it was far to cold to wait for a train that might never come. We did a shortened version of morning prayer at home with Claire, followed by some Sunday-school type crafts based on Daniel 3 (the young men rescued from the firey furnace). Claire had a great time making "stained glass" fire pictures by melting old crayons on a warming tray and transferring the wax onto sheets of thin paper. We also listened to a live webcast of the sermon at Tenth.
After lunch, it was time to do some shoveling and let Claire play in the snow a bit.
I made the mistake of letting Nicky come outside without a leash. He took off in a blind run up the street, with me in hot pursuit. The more I called him, the faster he ran. He ran out in front of two cars, which fortunately stopped to let the demented dog and screeching woman pass. He then darted down the footpath into woodsy Wissahickon Park. The snow was too deep for me to follow very far.
In an act of desparation, I flopped down on my back there in the woods and pretended to be hurt to get him to come near enough to grab by the collar. This too proved fairly fruitless. He came within 10 feet then proceeded to bark and bark and bark at me, as if to say "C'mon, Mom, let's play tag some more!"
I got to my knees and begged the dog to come, my fury finally spent. More barking.
With no other ideas of how to capture Nicky, I got up and started clambering up the trail toward home. He eagerly followed and I finally got hold of his collar. The next back-aching block, I held tight to his collar and brought my chastened pup home.
I think I need a nap now.
We're kicking back and enjoying our first big snowstorm of the season. The first flakes began yesterday morning, as we watched a flock of corpulent robins take up residence in our juniper tree (below).
Between bouts of gorging themselves on the ripe, silvery-blue berries, the jolly birds perched alternately on the porch rails or rocking chairs and fluffed up their feathers to even more rotund proportions. How fun to offer hospitality so effortlessly.
This morning we missed attending church because the roads were treacherous, public transit is offering only spotty service and it was far to cold to wait for a train that might never come. We did a shortened version of morning prayer at home with Claire, followed by some Sunday-school type crafts based on Daniel 3 (the young men rescued from the firey furnace). Claire had a great time making "stained glass" fire pictures by melting old crayons on a warming tray and transferring the wax onto sheets of thin paper. We also listened to a live webcast of the sermon at Tenth.
After lunch, it was time to do some shoveling and let Claire play in the snow a bit.
I made the mistake of letting Nicky come outside without a leash. He took off in a blind run up the street, with me in hot pursuit. The more I called him, the faster he ran. He ran out in front of two cars, which fortunately stopped to let the demented dog and screeching woman pass. He then darted down the footpath into woodsy Wissahickon Park. The snow was too deep for me to follow very far.
In an act of desparation, I flopped down on my back there in the woods and pretended to be hurt to get him to come near enough to grab by the collar. This too proved fairly fruitless. He came within 10 feet then proceeded to bark and bark and bark at me, as if to say "C'mon, Mom, let's play tag some more!"
I got to my knees and begged the dog to come, my fury finally spent. More barking.
With no other ideas of how to capture Nicky, I got up and started clambering up the trail toward home. He eagerly followed and I finally got hold of his collar. The next back-aching block, I held tight to his collar and brought my chastened pup home.
I think I need a nap now.
1.18.2005
Alas
My poor tulips are unlikely to survive this winter. They were sadly tricked into pushing up out of the soil over the past few weeks when our temperatures were as high as the low 60s. (In fact, I've hung out laundry four times this month, which I never do unless the temp is above 55 and sunny.) Tonight the temperature is slated to fall to 6 degrees, so I hold little hope for those tender little shoots, despite my attempts to provide a little insulation with mulch.
Sigh.
My poor tulips are unlikely to survive this winter. They were sadly tricked into pushing up out of the soil over the past few weeks when our temperatures were as high as the low 60s. (In fact, I've hung out laundry four times this month, which I never do unless the temp is above 55 and sunny.) Tonight the temperature is slated to fall to 6 degrees, so I hold little hope for those tender little shoots, despite my attempts to provide a little insulation with mulch.
Sigh.
1.16.2005
Gulp
I've been sick for nearly a week now with some sort of infection that seems especially to be attacking my throat and tonsills. After poring over our home medical guides, I'm pretty sure it's not strep throat because of the lack of tell-tale white patches in the throat. It's likely a virus that I'll simply have to ride out.
I've had strep only once in my life, back in 1986 (nearly 20 years ago, double gulp!). How foolish I used to be about illness back then. I remember putting in full days at school, going to my part-time job and even participating in the county band festival with hellfire burning in my throat.
I wonder how many customers and musicians I infected in my stupidity. Granted, going to county band was a HUGE deal for a mallet percussionist, as there were only two spots and like 10 school districts to draw from. At the time, it seemed completely worthwhile to run myself into the ground.
How we suffer for our art.
I've been sick for nearly a week now with some sort of infection that seems especially to be attacking my throat and tonsills. After poring over our home medical guides, I'm pretty sure it's not strep throat because of the lack of tell-tale white patches in the throat. It's likely a virus that I'll simply have to ride out.
I've had strep only once in my life, back in 1986 (nearly 20 years ago, double gulp!). How foolish I used to be about illness back then. I remember putting in full days at school, going to my part-time job and even participating in the county band festival with hellfire burning in my throat.
I wonder how many customers and musicians I infected in my stupidity. Granted, going to county band was a HUGE deal for a mallet percussionist, as there were only two spots and like 10 school districts to draw from. At the time, it seemed completely worthwhile to run myself into the ground.
How we suffer for our art.
1.10.2005
Pumpkin
Wondering what to do with those extra cans of pumpkin puree you bought at super bargain prices over the holidays? Try my perennial favorite quick bread recipe that yields best results if frozen first--a great timesaver when preparing for a brunch, or, in my case, snack for a 70-member choir.
Supermoist Pumpkin Bread
yield: 2 loaves prep time: 20 minutes bake time: 60-70 minutes
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease 2 standard 9"x5"x3" loaf pans (or 3 smaller 8.5"x4.5"x2.5" pans).
Cream together until fluffy:
2/3 C shortening
2 2/3 C sugar
Stir in:
4 eggs
2/3 C water
16 oz. (2 C) canned pumpkin puree
In a separate bowl, sift together:
3 1/3 C flour
2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground cloves
Stir dry ingredients into wet ingredients. If desired, add 2/3 C raisins.
Pour batter into greased pans. Bake for 60-70 minutes (less time for smaller or dark metal pans). Bread is done when inserted knife or tester comes out clean.
Cool bread for 20 minutes, remove from pans, wrap in foil and freeze overnight or until needed (up to 1 month). Thaw and enjoy!
Other hints:
Most canned pumpkin comes in 29 oz. cans, which would yield a recipe and a half, with a little waste. The above recipe can be halved easily, except the flour is trickier--use 2.5 Tbsp and you'll have approximately 1/6 of a cup. Alternately, freeze the extra cup of pumpkin puree for later use.
Wondering what to do with those extra cans of pumpkin puree you bought at super bargain prices over the holidays? Try my perennial favorite quick bread recipe that yields best results if frozen first--a great timesaver when preparing for a brunch, or, in my case, snack for a 70-member choir.
Supermoist Pumpkin Bread
yield: 2 loaves prep time: 20 minutes bake time: 60-70 minutes
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease 2 standard 9"x5"x3" loaf pans (or 3 smaller 8.5"x4.5"x2.5" pans).
Cream together until fluffy:
2/3 C shortening
2 2/3 C sugar
Stir in:
4 eggs
2/3 C water
16 oz. (2 C) canned pumpkin puree
In a separate bowl, sift together:
3 1/3 C flour
2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp ground cloves
Stir dry ingredients into wet ingredients. If desired, add 2/3 C raisins.
Pour batter into greased pans. Bake for 60-70 minutes (less time for smaller or dark metal pans). Bread is done when inserted knife or tester comes out clean.
Cool bread for 20 minutes, remove from pans, wrap in foil and freeze overnight or until needed (up to 1 month). Thaw and enjoy!
Other hints:
Most canned pumpkin comes in 29 oz. cans, which would yield a recipe and a half, with a little waste. The above recipe can be halved easily, except the flour is trickier--use 2.5 Tbsp and you'll have approximately 1/6 of a cup. Alternately, freeze the extra cup of pumpkin puree for later use.
1.08.2005
Wow
I haven't blogged in so long, I'd nearly forgotten my login for the blogger site. Now that we have a laptop (that my husband is supposed to share), I thought it was about time to drop into the blogosphere again. (Dawn and Valerie have something to do with it too.)
I don't have any really great excuse for not blogging other than that I'd grown somewhat bored with it. I also suffer from the curse of the youngest child--having been told by older siblings for so long that I'm pestering them, I've begun to believe that no one is particularly interested in what I have to say. This is not reallly a conducive attitude for blogging.
Blogging requires a certain amount of chutzpa that has been more on the wane in my personality of late. I am constantly humbled in my attempts at parenting. Despite best laid plans, my daughter does not always sleep when I want her to, wear the outfits I pick, or eat the nutritious fare I prepare. Housekeeping is also very humbling. I can vacuum and dust and tidy with the best of then, only to have toys and fingerprints and dog fur reappear in a matter of hours or minutes.
I am deeply living in the experience that I am nothing, and yet, I am the glue that holds my home and family together.
I haven't blogged in so long, I'd nearly forgotten my login for the blogger site. Now that we have a laptop (that my husband is supposed to share), I thought it was about time to drop into the blogosphere again. (Dawn and Valerie have something to do with it too.)
I don't have any really great excuse for not blogging other than that I'd grown somewhat bored with it. I also suffer from the curse of the youngest child--having been told by older siblings for so long that I'm pestering them, I've begun to believe that no one is particularly interested in what I have to say. This is not reallly a conducive attitude for blogging.
Blogging requires a certain amount of chutzpa that has been more on the wane in my personality of late. I am constantly humbled in my attempts at parenting. Despite best laid plans, my daughter does not always sleep when I want her to, wear the outfits I pick, or eat the nutritious fare I prepare. Housekeeping is also very humbling. I can vacuum and dust and tidy with the best of then, only to have toys and fingerprints and dog fur reappear in a matter of hours or minutes.
I am deeply living in the experience that I am nothing, and yet, I am the glue that holds my home and family together.
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