First off: Were you ever this cool as a kid?
I certainly wasn't.
On Saturday, my Dad will be boarding a bus with a load of fellow pro-lifers bound for the Walk for Life in San Francisco. I so wish I could be marching with him, or that I could have been with the human popsicles who marched in the snow and cold D.C. on Wednesday. One of them was Iris, the fine photographer and blogger from Country Girl's Daybook. I'm so grateful to people like her--the people who live close enough to D.C. to go, then make the sacrifice to be there all day, and then write about their experience. Head to her page to check out some great images from the event.
Speaking of writers, today's the feast of St. Francis de Sales, patron saint of writers and journalists!
Francis was born in the French border region in 1567. As a young man, Francis became profoundly depressed when contemplating the possibility of his soul being predestined by God to hell. After weeks of barely eating and sleeping, he finally prayed before a miraculous image of Mary, entrusting his life entirely to God's merciful love, with no care for reward. This experience formed the basis of both his pastoral work as a bishop in post-Reformation Geneva, and inspired his influential writings. His masterful Treatise on the Love of God influenced Saint Therese of Lisieux and Saint John Bosco.
- Magnificat, January 2014
And wouldn't you know, even Ms. Fulwiller has a little to say about this doctor of the Church, and how he helps us place ourselves in the presence of God. St. Francis de Sales, pray for us.
Changing tracks--ha. With full credit to his train-obsessed older brother, three of Amby's 15 current words are:
*(not technically a word but more an onomatopoeia but whatever I'll take it)
Tonight, dear friends, tonight's the night for man-pleasing chicken. Last night was supposed to be the man-pleasing chicken night. But when the man calls at 5:25 p.m. to say he's just now leaving a client in some God-forsaken small town 2 hours away, then the woman is far from pleased and is not about to start making man-pleasing chicken for a man who ain't even home. So. Pizza last night. BUT TONIGHT!
(Note: Found the recipe through Laura's awesome post on best meals to bring a friend/new mom, check it out!)
Before the aforementioned 5:25 p.m. call occurred that cancelled the chicken-making, I loaded everyone back into the car after naps to make the much-dreaded second trip of the day to a grocery store to procure grade a maple syrup for the recipe.
That little red cart is, in my opinion and at this stage of life for the boys, BETTER THAN A STROLLER. Seriously, they never let go of it, never walk away from it, and help me throw stuff in it. Granted, a loooooong stroll through the frozen food aisle could not be completed without a box of those mini ice cream cones being thrown in for Joe, lest a meltdown occur. When caving to my preschooler only sets me back $2.99, I'm prone to caving.
What, your day doesn't end with a rousing game of Tackle Mom?
I'll do a little dance in one more week when football season is over and we move on to a much more civilized sport being demonstrated on the telly. Baseball.
Head back to Jen's for more.