I hate the sound of it, but they are trying to make the best of a rally, in how he feels right now, to decorate the house and prepare for saying goodbye. PLEASE, if you can donate ANYTHING to keep this family in their home when their daddy dies, please, do so!
I usually can't stand Fox 9's sucky local reports but this time, they did a good job profiling my friend Nicole and her family in my hometown. Watch it here.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Yo, Vinny, Yous a Catlick Now! (I Mean: "Vincent's Baptism")
Sorry, I can't ever help but think in mobster when I say Vincent's name.
Here's the view from the top of the steps of the back entrance to our church. I want Butch to make a patio similar to this in the back yard. Wouldn't that be sweet?
Here's Vinny's family of some sisters and girl cousins protecting him in his paganbaby state before Mass.
Here is what happens EVERY time we come in the back way...Tommy wants a drink and Matty helps him. It almost guarantees we'll have big water splotches on our shirts and children that have to pee five minutes into Mass. I think it's pretty awesome that Matty does the things he does for the little ones. I don't even have to ask (most times). He's a good son (said in the mobster voice in my head).
While the family waits for Mass to begin (They are sitting next to a scale model of the historic Church of St. Michael. It's really amazing if you ever get to visit our church, you won't want to miss it.), Tommy makes a break for the water fountain. Of course.
Usually, when there's a baptism during Mass (instead of the huge group baptism on a Sunday afternoon...this one was at a 5pm service on Sat. night), the parents, Godparents, and maybe some siblings and a grandparent or two go up to the baptismal hottub...I mean "font". I thought this picture was cool because it only shows about 1/4 of the family that was crowding around that thing! Vincent was so funny during his splash. He had a fun, happy look the whole time and never cried at all.
This is the ONLY, I repeat ONLY time I don't mind applause during Mass:
I took a quickie shot of the dome of the church to show again how pretty the iconography of our church is. You can't see the names of the apostles but I had to for sure give props to my patron, St. Thomas. I doubt that he's happy to be my self appointed patron (get it? get it?).
After Mass, Tommy hopped up on the table where baby Madeline was sleeping in her carrier. He wouldn't let anyone else kiss or touch her. He's pretty protective of the babies in the family...oh heck...he thinks ALL babies are HIS AND HIS ALONE and won't let anyone near the babies if he can help it. I think he'll be just fine around our new one in the spring. Oh, and baby Madeline will be unpaganized later this month (in a smaller church...hope we all fit!).
Here's the view from the top of the steps of the back entrance to our church. I want Butch to make a patio similar to this in the back yard. Wouldn't that be sweet?
Here's Vinny's family of some sisters and girl cousins protecting him in his paganbaby state before Mass.
Here is what happens EVERY time we come in the back way...Tommy wants a drink and Matty helps him. It almost guarantees we'll have big water splotches on our shirts and children that have to pee five minutes into Mass. I think it's pretty awesome that Matty does the things he does for the little ones. I don't even have to ask (most times). He's a good son (said in the mobster voice in my head).
While the family waits for Mass to begin (They are sitting next to a scale model of the historic Church of St. Michael. It's really amazing if you ever get to visit our church, you won't want to miss it.), Tommy makes a break for the water fountain. Of course.
Usually, when there's a baptism during Mass (instead of the huge group baptism on a Sunday afternoon...this one was at a 5pm service on Sat. night), the parents, Godparents, and maybe some siblings and a grandparent or two go up to the baptismal hottub...I mean "font". I thought this picture was cool because it only shows about 1/4 of the family that was crowding around that thing! Vincent was so funny during his splash. He had a fun, happy look the whole time and never cried at all.
This is the ONLY, I repeat ONLY time I don't mind applause during Mass:
I took a quickie shot of the dome of the church to show again how pretty the iconography of our church is. You can't see the names of the apostles but I had to for sure give props to my patron, St. Thomas. I doubt that he's happy to be my self appointed patron (get it? get it?).
After Mass, Tommy hopped up on the table where baby Madeline was sleeping in her carrier. He wouldn't let anyone else kiss or touch her. He's pretty protective of the babies in the family...oh heck...he thinks ALL babies are HIS AND HIS ALONE and won't let anyone near the babies if he can help it. I think he'll be just fine around our new one in the spring. Oh, and baby Madeline will be unpaganized later this month (in a smaller church...hope we all fit!).
Friday, November 06, 2009
Insane Preggo Dream Number 942
I know where this one came from. I had just read a big write up about Mary Jo Copeland and how she cares for the street people that come into her Mary's Place in the cities (here in MN). Also, I caught a bit of Slumdog Millionaire yesterday while babysitting (in the morning, before the kids were awake, of course!). I had seen that movie before and it really was a good one but a little hard to take. It's hard to think about children suffering so much in the world, with no one to care for them and everyone around them just exploiting them.
In my dream, there is a little boy of about 6 or 7. He is staying at his uncle's house. I see him because Butch and I are visiting a friend who is in a tough spot. His wife is leaving him, his in-laws hate him and they are broke. The little boy is playing on a huge playset in their yard (he is the nephew of our friend's dad, who lives with them...but our friend doesn't really have responsibility for him). They are trying to get rid of the playset so we start taking it apart and find this little boy at the end of the slide.
He is very confused but not sad. He has on a saggy diaper and that's all. I think to myself that he could certainly use some clothes and he must be able to use the toilet so I take it upon myself to help him find something of Bocker's to use. I bring him home to care for him because nobody seems to mind. The rest of the dream, I'm training him to use the toilet, teaching him to speak properly, and giving him general instructions and love. He repeats everything I ask him and then adds a question mark at the end. For instance, If I tell him, "Now, you should probably have a sweatshirt because it's cold." he'd say, "I should have a sweatshirt, because it's cold?". He'd never directly ask "why?" but I sensed that no one had ever cared about him enough to direct him in what he should do. I know that his mother is a hippie who's drugged out and his father is absent or very very mean. The little boy doesn't seem to be permanently damaged, just a little behind in ability. I take him home with me, even though we are living in poverty at a relative's house ourselves and have lots of kids who sort of resent another mouth to feed. I try to teach them that we should love our brother, even if it's someone with whom we're not related.
I woke up and whispered this prayer: Dear Lord, be with all of the abandoned children in the world. Lead them to safe adults who will love them and care for them. Keep them safe from harm and protected by their angels.
It occurred to me that we don't have any "street children" around here. They wouldn't last a week in the cold. That's the hard reality of life here in Minnesota. I know that children are neglected and abandoned all of the time, but they would be picked up by social services or cared for by a neighbor (I hope) or die from exposure very quickly. I've never seen a child huddled under a bridge or picking from a waste dump. I've never seen a child, in rags, begging on the street.
I am very disturbed by this dream. I think I fear losing my home, my own children, my husband, my way of life. I think, even worse, I fear that the world doesn't care anymore about children...or anything. I must fear that my own children might lose the ability to care about others, or become selfish, or become like everyone in the world seems to be right now. I am all about self preservation, but not at the cost of losing one's soul or ability to reach out and find enough love for someone who has none.
In my dream, there is a little boy of about 6 or 7. He is staying at his uncle's house. I see him because Butch and I are visiting a friend who is in a tough spot. His wife is leaving him, his in-laws hate him and they are broke. The little boy is playing on a huge playset in their yard (he is the nephew of our friend's dad, who lives with them...but our friend doesn't really have responsibility for him). They are trying to get rid of the playset so we start taking it apart and find this little boy at the end of the slide.
He is very confused but not sad. He has on a saggy diaper and that's all. I think to myself that he could certainly use some clothes and he must be able to use the toilet so I take it upon myself to help him find something of Bocker's to use. I bring him home to care for him because nobody seems to mind. The rest of the dream, I'm training him to use the toilet, teaching him to speak properly, and giving him general instructions and love. He repeats everything I ask him and then adds a question mark at the end. For instance, If I tell him, "Now, you should probably have a sweatshirt because it's cold." he'd say, "I should have a sweatshirt, because it's cold?". He'd never directly ask "why?" but I sensed that no one had ever cared about him enough to direct him in what he should do. I know that his mother is a hippie who's drugged out and his father is absent or very very mean. The little boy doesn't seem to be permanently damaged, just a little behind in ability. I take him home with me, even though we are living in poverty at a relative's house ourselves and have lots of kids who sort of resent another mouth to feed. I try to teach them that we should love our brother, even if it's someone with whom we're not related.
I woke up and whispered this prayer: Dear Lord, be with all of the abandoned children in the world. Lead them to safe adults who will love them and care for them. Keep them safe from harm and protected by their angels.
It occurred to me that we don't have any "street children" around here. They wouldn't last a week in the cold. That's the hard reality of life here in Minnesota. I know that children are neglected and abandoned all of the time, but they would be picked up by social services or cared for by a neighbor (I hope) or die from exposure very quickly. I've never seen a child huddled under a bridge or picking from a waste dump. I've never seen a child, in rags, begging on the street.
I am very disturbed by this dream. I think I fear losing my home, my own children, my husband, my way of life. I think, even worse, I fear that the world doesn't care anymore about children...or anything. I must fear that my own children might lose the ability to care about others, or become selfish, or become like everyone in the world seems to be right now. I am all about self preservation, but not at the cost of losing one's soul or ability to reach out and find enough love for someone who has none.
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