Spirograph Brave

My little son does not like shots. He hates them.

When he learned he would have to endure two for his kindergarten physical, he said to me, "I think I can summon up some bravery."

I hugged him and assured him I would hold his hand and it would be okay. I told him about how at his age, I didn't like shots either and that my mother got me to stop going on about having to have a vaccination by making me chose an item that I could earn if I was brave enough.

"What was it?"
"A Spirograph."
And I explained what a spirograph was and how much I had enjoyed it, and how his sister had one up in her room.
"Well I don't want a spirograph for a shot."

So we went on to negotiate a suitable prize.

The day of the physical arrived. Having scheduled a double up, my daughter in first grade attended as well. Her doctor's appointment went first. She got her shot and said "Ow." When it came time for the shot, my son cried hard.

He cried as we left the office. He cried as we went down the elevator. He cried as we walked through the parking lot. Getting into the car, he was still going on about the pain.

My daughter, ever solicitous, put her arm around him and said, "You were so brave." He was at this point, howling from it, saying over and over again, "I hate shots. I don't like them. It still hurts."

But when she said that, he looked at her with moderate annoyance, "I wasn't brave. That wasn't bravery."

He may not take a hit well, but he's ruthlessly honest about his state of being. I think I'm going to buy him a spirograph.

Why the Notre Dame/Obama Scandal Matters

My husband and I met at Notre Dame on the third day after we arrived on our respective campuses. After four years of dating while at Notre Dame and Saint Mary’s, and two years of engagement wherein I received a Master’s of Education at Boston College, and my then fiancée attended NYU law school, we were married by the Bishop of Beaumont, Texas, Bishop Bernard Ganter in 1990. Nine children and no small number of Notre Dame T-shirts and sojourns out for games or to visit friends later, we find ourselves looking at a school we no longer recognize as the place that helped preserve our pure spirits, that helped keep youthful desires in check with such quaint restrictions as visiting hours.

Where we once argued against Mario Cuomo and were not scoffed at, now we see a school that seems both hard headed and in part, hard hearted. We do not understand this beautiful place that no longer recognizes the source of its fundamental beauty. When people of good character and deep faith ask how this school (which they know we love), can authentically represent Catholicism, (indeed, Mary in all her glory), if we cannot recognize life at its beginning as being sacred to those who do not believe it, I have no answer.

We will be praying the rosary. We are praying the rosary. We pray for the President to have the scales fall from his eyes and for this most anti-life of all presidents in the history of our country to become like Saint Paul. We pray for Fr. Jenkins and those who stand fast with him on this point. We pray for their hearts to be softened by the weeping and anguish of the faithful who see this as a far more egregious assault on Catholic sensibilities than the erotic pseudo intellectual musings of an artistically contrived lesbian play. The later is self absorbed mental porn packaged as art, the former is a rejection of everything our Lady stands for and everything her life means, for the sake of a photo-op and the bragging rights amongst Universities for hosting the current President of the United States.

The rejection of the timeless for the transitory, of the prayerful for the powerful injures more than just those graduates and families and alumni who may not be entirely thrilled with President Jenkin’s choice. Those who never loved Notre Dame but love the policies of the current President of the United States, seem to find almost perverse glee that the faithful, (who cannot be anything but pro-life), agonize over this once crown jewel of Catholicism falling so far from her truly once upon a time deserving heights. Being the body of Christ, all of the Church, all of us that make up the countless unknown laity that line up for the Eucharist on a weekly basis or more, we suffer each time a Catholic in a position of leadership denies Mary, denies Christ, or denies the authentic reality of each person, by their policies and actions and words.

The University of Notre Dame should mean something. It should embody the beauty of Mary, the humility of Mary, the obedience of Mary, the purity of Mary, the whole dedication to Christ of Mary. It should be a place that creates people of steel and fire, people who know how precious life is, and how important it is to be obedient to God in all things. The University should radiate the essence of Mary in all its policies and in all of its classes, and in every bit of ground.

No one who contemplates this Queen of heaven with a sincere heart, cannot be softened by her witness, by her love, by her life and her instruction. “Do whatever He tells you to do.” This should be the great lesson that all students come to master as a result of their experience at this campus, whether in physics or art or sociology or economics.

The purpose of a Catholic University is not to win accolades or host world leaders or build the largest endowment in the history of man or have the greatest number of federal dollars in grants for its research purposes. The purpose of a Catholic University is to via the craft and art of instruction, through the sense of place and the beauty of minds and persons represented in the faculty and staff, to turn souls towards God while putting before the students, the richest banquet possible of all the best thoughts, practices and experiences available. The purpose of a Catholic University is to pursue the Truth in all things. Modern sensibilities would parse Truth and reduce it to being merely a religious tenet, and that only scholarly truth should be so ruthlessly sought in the academic world.

But Christ tells us clearly, “I am the way and the Truth and the Life.” If we would be Catholic, if Notre Dame would be Catholic, it must know Truth, it must love Truth, and it must pursue Truth over politics, over power, over prestige. And the Truth in this circumstance is humble and small and achingly real in the person of Mary.

Notre Dame Our Mother, Pray for us. And Our Hearts forever, Love Thee Notre Dame.

The Should Expert

Because I belong to two writers' groups, there is always talk about how to get one's self noticed and what we should do. The experts claim that use of the internet to convey and create publicity is a necessity in the modern publishing world. Viral videos, greater circulation, we need to create an audience hungry for us. We should do this.

So I thought about it.
I probably should facebook more.
I probably should tweet.
I know I don't Digg and I don't Youtube.

Then I started thinking about all the "shoulds" that I have on my list.
I probably should read all the books my high school Senior English teacher assigned.
I should eat less fat and exercise more.
I should probably ballance my check book, put away my credit cards and learn not to impulsively stop through the drive thru of Chick Filet for a cookies and cream milk shake on days when the temperature soars above 90.

There are so many things on my list of shoulds....

I should weed the front yard that is checkered with dandelions.
I should have preread the Twilight series before my daughter got her hands on it.
I should know the names of all of the kids in each of my kids classes but I don't.
I should bake cup cakes for the treat sale this Thursday, but I'll probably punt and get Krispy Cremes.
I should volunteer more and shout less.
I should probably buy a converter box or get cable.
I should probably update my phone.
I should spend time counting my blessings instead of patrolling the house for dust bunnies, trash and laundry that has had time to grow crunchy.
I should write real letters instead of email, and I should talk to my two brothers and one sister on a weekly basis, not just when something happens like a car accident, a baby born or a job change.

I should fish.
I should sleep more.
I should know how to sew.
I should know how to can food and make jam.

I should read every day to my kids for 20 minute a day, but that comes out to three hours and that eliminates time I should be spending doing my hour of exercise, recycling, managing our money, staying informed about what is going on in the world and weeding the garden so I can smell the roses.

There are fifteen loads of laundry needing to be folded, 11 already in baskets and eight waiting because of the dryer fiasco of last week. I should defrost the chicken now so I can make dinner easy tonight. I should take a multi-vitamin. I should schedule a physical, two dental appointments, one audiologist, one opthmologist and one endedontist. I should also floss.

But back to writing.
I should write every day. I should edit every day. I should read/research every day and submit every day.

I should have DSL. I should own a blackberry.

I should bend the laws of space and time to get one son to his baseball game ontime and then get to a seperate field in a seperate town ten miles away to drop off my daughter. Then I get to ping pong back and forth until both games are over, while picking up my son from Metro because he has late band practice this evening and thus can't take the bus home.

So what am I doing? I'm sipping a diet coke, blogging and coloring with my kids. They have brown/blue/orange/green on their arms. It's great.

You should do this. Trust me, I'm an Expert.