How It All Began

I was a little disappointed at my neurologist appointment last December, when my dr failed to congratulate me on my 24th MS anniversary. Of course, she was probably still in school then so I can see why it didn't make a mark. I'm sure the neurologist who did interpret my first MRI is retired, and or dead by now. So I guess I'll just have to buy my own anniversary gift. But this way I know I'll like it and it will definitely fit. So I guess it's a win. Or maybe Dr S is waiting and has something  extra special planned for my 25th, this December!


It's not like its a huge cause celebre anyway. But I'd never turn down some extra half and half (hint, hint).


In fact, the original event started out kind of lame. Pun definitely intended.


I'd been having weird feelings in my legs. They had were heavy and stiff  for weeks. Like they had been encased in lead. I remember going to a friend's birthday party and we were playing a relay game and I felt like I was walking like Frankenstein. It was dark out so no one said anything. I enjoyed the fancy Japanese meal, chopped and cooked in front us, like  all the other party goers. I just didn't contribute to a win for the relay race. Later my new gait caught my sister off guard and could not stop laughing. So I could have been a good party  add-on. If it had been lighter. Oh well. their loss.


After a few weeks, I think, it didn't go away so my mom made an appointment with our family Dr. He was our doctor for as long as I can remember and he was always very comforting for whatever you were in for.   Whether it was   ring worm or the fact you couldn't feel your legs. So of course, he was very professional and reserved as he did the office exam.

I didn't feel too worried. Just mostly annoyed.

My mom had been reading up on all the potential contenders to cause such symptoms as I was experiencing: Guillon-Barre was the horse we were rooting for. Or possibly some strange tropical foot worm I had picked up in Hawaii the previous month and it could all be fixed with an antibiotic. Even an enema would have been fine, if it would make it go away.

I can only imagine the ferocity with which a parent might investigate potential life-long mates for your children when you are afraid it might be that no good guy with the earring and no job she might get shackled with. So we searched high and low trying desperately to avoid what was the most likely culprit. MS.

My mother's sister, my Aunt Moira, had spent some of her remaining weeks at my parents house, but I only remembered a little of her. Her hospital bed was set up in the Blue Room.  Which was actually the room I was born in and was later my own for several years. I remembered  her eye patch and her slurred speech. And that she had been an opera singer. (Oh, If I could only have inherited her voice instead. Happy Birthday's here would not be such a travesty.) But I didn't. I remember playing on the big cannon at my Grandparent's house after her funeral.

She was 27 when she came to stay with us. She'd only been diagnosed 9 or so years before that, but my mom is pretty sure she had symptoms long before then. But it was not so easily diagnosed back then. And really all they could do was give you steroids.  She was in and out of the hospital for awhile. She'd bounce back and they'd send her home. Then she'd get worse and go back in, probably for another round of steroids. And finally she asked to just stay home and eat Haagen-Dazs coffee ice cream. ( Apparently, we also have love of good treats in common too.) She didn't' want to die in the hospital.

She rebounded one last time after which she went home to my Grandmother's. Where, finally, with the aid of some morphine, she went to her eternal home. I was curious to know just how she did go, and though I'm sure it was probably not too far anyway, I don't think hastening someone's death is ever anyone's place ,or something you can get over. So just don't.  There is always the next morning and opportunities you couldn't dream of in your current state but you are so glad you got to see that smile, or hear that word, or hold their hand. And you are glad you took every opportunity of embracing life while you could. Even if its hard. Because life is really hard.


So we went to the appointment and gave the doctor our list of choices. And in is very calm way, he soothed us and said we'd need to wait for an MRI before we could discuss a diagnosis. I remember not being too freaked out, or nervous. Just kind of matter of fact and 'woah, my legs are really funky'. But I still wasn't really worried. As the doctor escorted us back to the waiting room I heard a mention of MS. I could tell my mom was starting to lose it. Which meant of course I was going to too.

"Mom" I said  "don't cry. You're going to make me cry."

So obviously we both cried.


But still, there was some hope.  The MRI was scheduled for the next day. At some ungodly hour. Like 9 am. Which is anathema maranatha in my family of night owls. I got the  instructions of no metal or make-up (as if I 'd get up early to apply any, if I did even wear it, which I didn't). I slept to the last minute then quickly pulled on my stretchy pants after I rolled out of bed and into the car.


But in that one day I had time to think about the possibilities and things were starting to "feel"  real to me and the what ifs? and now whats? came pouring down.

I'd never really set my future plans  in stone. I was 13. There were so many options it was difficult to choose just one. After I read Madame Curie, I thought "great,  I"ll be a physicist!"  But being not gifted in mathy type things brought me back to reality. I had always felt a strong pull to Mother Theresa and her work. I had sent her some money and a picture of me in my First Communion dress. She sent me back a letter typed out on the back of a prayer card and the picture, which she had signed. But  I might like to have my own kids. Would I be able to? Would I ever get married? Would Prince Charming be willing to stop our trusty steed just at that shrubbery up yonder so I could go pee. Again? Would he get annoyed and say no? Would I be able to ask? (Spoiler, he hasn't and wouldn't.) So its all good and way better than the fairy tales I would still lose myself in. Like the one about the Russian-Jewish convert. Which still cracks me up because Shane can speak Russian, is a convert, and I think has some Jewish blood on his German side.  And obviously I could have kids. Unless the six living with us are just squatters. But that's ok. I'll take them any day.


So many thoughts crowded through my brain that morning. The main one being.

"Man I'm tired. Why couldn't we have gotten an afternoon appointment?"

I have a knack for zeroing in on the important aspects in a situation. Sleep and what's for dinner.

My dad met us and we had lunch.  Or maybe it was after the neurologist appointment and the reading of the MRI. I'm not sure. I hope we went to Dick's, but I think not. Which in retrospect was probably a good thing. Don't want to taint a Dick's Deluxe with an unpleasant memory.

We met Dr. Mesher for the first time.  He did the typical neurological function exam. And then we got to the MRI. And there were the bright hazy spots on the brain.And yes. It was MS.  I think I would have been shocked if it hadn't been. But not unpleasantly. And then came all the questions no one can answer but you ask anyway. Pretty much at all the appointments for the rest of your life. And the answers are all the same too. We don't know. I can't say. We'll just have to wait and see. It's different for everyone.

Like I said, the only thing to be offered back then was a round of steroids. Or maybe that wasn't offered either, as I was so young. I just remember trying desperately to get him to give me a hint of what to expect and when. Which he couldn't. Then my melodramatic self kicked in.

Would being at home be a risk to any of my siblings?

I'm still laughing at that one. Yeah, I'm really not sure where that come from. Maybe I was feeling cut off and thought making it real would....um I'm not really sure what it would do. Maybe I was trying to get out of my kitchen job next week. Or maybe it would be easier to cry for some other reason, like leaving my family, than cry over the crap hand I'd just been dealt. Because it seemed silly to cry over what your cards might be in the future.  But you knew the possibilities from  your draw pile and they all sucked.

The doctor kept his cool and didn't look at me like I was a freak and explained,
No, you don't need to be sent to a desert island. Yes, you can have kids. No, there aren't any drugs available yet.


Cell phones were not so ubiquitous then, so we waited until we got home to share the news. I think I cried some more. Then took a nap. Then we ordered pizza. And some time later another aunt came over with a big pink box of King Donuts. Maybe things weren't so bad.

Oh Where Are My Pictures?

If you  know the hairbrush song from Veggie Tales, use the melody when reading the post title. I do.

As the title suggests, I can't find any pictures more recent than January. But I did find these ones.

 There's the Christmas tree. Now its gone!

Every year for Christmas, lately, we usually agree to  go in together and get something bigger than would fit in a stocking. And then leave it at that. And then Christmas morning chide the other person for getting stocking fillers too and good thing we both  did or one of us would feel silly. So this year we went all out on a new bookshelf. We have needed one desperately for a long time. The shelves in the library and the bonus room have been full and books have been piling up on the floors and window sills. But it's not like it's dirty laundry. Although a few socks could have snuck in between Don Quixote and The Federalist Papers. Honestly, I have read neither of those. I did watch the Man of La Mancha but I'm pretty sure they never made a movie out of the latter book. But it makes me feel well read to have them on the shelf. We decided to put the enormous book case next to the huge clock so neither would feel inferior. And its been a great addition.

Having the books more accessible has made for so much more reading and conversation. And conversations about reading. I'm so glad we finally got them.

Speaking of addition, I decided to do some subtraction in the kid's school supply department. Fiona and Malachi got into the school cupboard and spread the zillion flashcards just waiting to be strewn about like rose petals. So I summarily swooped them all up and prepared to dump them in the recycle bin. Kateri begged me to save them so she could put them on the free table at homeschool class. Because someone might want them! She did. No one took them. I guess we are not the only ones.

Fiona got a back pack for Christmas, I wasn't trying to do a Christmas theme but I guess that's what you get when all your pictures are from early January. She and Malachi put on their packs and go adventuring around the house. Which is pretty much the cutest thing.

And I would be remiss if I did not mention the fact that it is MS awareness week. I think it got lost in International Women's Day? (I guess that is a thing) which was earlier this week. Actually from the headlines it sounds like it MS awareness week is actually a month. So, back off bitches! The orange t-shirt gimp brigade is here.

But not here. Ever. I don't wear orange. And not just because I don't want to look like a convict.

Speaking of orange shirts, quick up-date. The hospital in Florence is still reviewing my case for HSCT. The hospital in the Philippines said yes they could fit me in, in June or later. Moscow said yes but not until 2018. Mexico said yes but no date yet. But I'm waiting for a yea or nay from Italy until I sign up for anything. Shane made a handy-dandy spreadsheet for me. color-coded and everything for where we are in the process for each facility. And I might make an impassioned plea to the investigator at the Hutch - which is still red-just to make sure they are really serious about last two NOs they gave me. but there are more greens now on the chart, so its looking real. 

Hopefully soon we can start working on our Italian. I'm glad I started when I was young. Now I can ask anyone "andiamo aprendere un café?"  if they'd like to go for coffee). But it will have to be on a Lunedi or Martedi. I forgot the other days of the week.

Introducing My Stunt Double and HSCT update

Maybe. An astute and avid reader of my blog, aka Mr. Factchecker, aka Shane, aka my Husband who I think only reads a post if I link to it from Facebook, pointed out last week that the post I wrote seemed really confusing, so I decided to try and clear some confusing points up. And instead I deleted it. Not on purpose. I  typed up some pre-ramble to add to it, then watched in horror/confusion/disbelief as my finger hit the delete button. Then when it asked if I was sure I really wanted to toss the post again I watched my pointer stretch itself out and almost reluctantly hit Yes. And it was gone. I'm not sure why I felt surprised. It was really like watching a car crash, something beyond your control. Except it wasn't. I probably only have about 20 minutes before the kids come in from outside (Oh wait, here they are) so I am not going to try and re-create the muddled mess it was. And you are welcome.

Things have been kind of busy around here. If you did happen to read the mysteriously disappearing post, it was about a "new" therapy for MS and other autoimmune diseases called HSCT, or Hematopoietic Stem Cell Transplantation.  It's not really new in and of itself, its been done for certain types of blood cancers for quite some time, but since it's "off label" it has to go through all the hoops before it is accepted as a legitimate therapy for MS. Meaning most insurance will not cover it yet. And it costs up to $400,000.

For the procedure, you have your own stem cells extracted. Then you are given chemo. Once your immune system is 'mostly dead' they swoop in and save you with the extracted stem cells they harvested in the beginning. The stem cells are naïve, that is, they  don't remember the taste of myelin and don't go around chewing on your central nervous system for another fix. Sounds great to me.

There are two versions of HSCT -Myleoablative and Non-Myleoblative. The first wipes out your immune cells, including the bone marrow cells. The non-myleo leaves the bone marrow alone. They have had amazing results with both versions, though the non-myleo sometimes needs a second round of chemo some months after. Initially it requires up to a month long stay, or longer, in a hospital. With the myleo HSCT it will require re-vaccination for your past immunizations, generally not  with the non.

Post HSCT the myleo version results in a complete halt of MS activity, the non tapers off over a few months or longer but eventually gets there. It does not do this for everyone, but around 80% or more, which is a far larger percent and with a far more drastic stopping of progression than any of the drugs your neurologist can give you.

Lemtrada is a newer drug just out for MS. You gotta love the names they come up for these drugs. The actual name of the drug is alemtuzumab. Under another name ( Campath) it has been used for the treatment of certain types of leukemia. It was pulled from the market in 2012, then returned with a  new name, Lemtrada, and a new price tag. Basically it went from about $2,000 a dose to $20,000.

The story is you get 5 days of it. Then a year later, 3 more days. I don't know if they know how long beyond that it keeps being effective. But it kills off certain of your immune system cells. And then does it again a year later. So you are constantly being knocked down. It makes much more sense to me to just get it all done at once, and then start to build up your new immune system and keep it going. It also  comes with some fun cancer risks and leaves the lucky recipient open to a host of opportunistic infections. Sounds fun, right?

While were on the crazy-name train, due out this year is ocrelizumab. Another immune suppressing drug. As we discussed all this with my neurologist I made the brilliant connection- alemtuzumab-ocrelizumab. They both end in MAB. And they are both monoclonal antibodies. MAB. My neurologist was quite impressed when I popped out that gem. Then she let me go back to watching Sesame Street.

And she very nicely took the paperwork from a clinic I am applying to and filled out the information they want. The previous week she ordered another MRI with gadolinium, despite the fact I'd just had one in December without contrast. It was worth it as there was an enhancing lesion, which you can only see with the contrast agent. As we were filling out paperwork at home Shane asked,

"So is it wrong of me to hope you have an enhancing lesion?"

All the gadolinium does is highlight any recent damage, meaning there is new activity and most of the clinics prefer to treat patients with active MS. Funny name for what causes you to become less active in real life. But we found one, so yeah me!

After giving her the paperwork we did the whole walk the line, touch your nose touch my finger routine. It was ....fun? There was no math so I was happy. And I didn't totally flunk the balance part. Also good. She did say she'd I've me between a 4 and a 5 on the EDSS scale. (You want to be as far from a 10 as you can)

So after our second trip to the office, we finally had and submitted all the paperwork to the hospital in Florence!

What? Florence? I thought she wanted to go to Germany? Or the Hutch?

I did. But the Hutch said no. And after a couple weeks, so did Germany. But then we found Florence. They do the same procedure (BEAM, it's called) of myleoablative HSCT that the Hutch is doing and Germany does as well. Rumor on the Facebook HSCT forums is that Florence has a little more wiggle room for who they will accept than Germany. There is no other hospital offering the BEAM protocol. The Philippines is just about the same as BEAM. the others are non-myleoablative,  (Russia and Mexico).

But the advice is, apply everywhere and take what you can, when you can. So Shane did. I got to push the send button on the final application for Florence. So I had a part. And I got to read his correspondence so I got to see how well he presented me to them. They are in for a fun surprise if/when we finally get to meet in person. But They've seen my brain so I'm sure they are prepared. Or in for a fun treat. Russia, the Philippines, and Mexico all said yes but, again I want the full meal deal. One and done.

So we stopped looking at neat places to rent in Heidelberg and are looking at some crazy cool places in Florence and the Tuscan countryside. Not sure what might actually be the result of it all, but it is fun to think about the kids having a great time while I get some serious alone time.

I have also thought of turning this blog over to Shane, this is the stunt double part. He's a good writer and can communicate real facts in an effective way. And it wouldn't take him days to get the pertinent information concisely packaged and posted. But he has a job, so its kind of iffy.

Sorry if this still doesn't make sense. For the real story on  HSCT check out WHEELCHAIR KAMIKAZE'S blog.

New Things

Or, things that should be old by now but are new for me. And , no I am not talking about any new technology. Though speaking of technology, for some reason blogger is not talking to my One Drive, and I am really not interested in sorting out any more petty squabbles and digging into 'he hit me first' stories that can, and do continue for days. So I'm going to ignore it until they sort it out themselves. Sadly, the internet is the loser as I can't post cute pictures of my super cute kids. But no pictures does not preclude me from poking the keyboard for a bit, as I actually have a few minutes  before somebody draws blood and I have to clean it up before the stain sets.(Hydrogen peroxide for all your children's activities. Works on urine too.)

Fiona is napping so I was going to read more of Fr Spitzer's book, but the 'atmosphere' is not conducive to thinking so I figured I could let the gelatinous gibberish that is my brain's offspring lately coagulate here for a bit instead. My apologies. Especially since I can't make it up to you with a (Fi)cture.

I really don't know how other moms find time to write. Or eat. Or brush their hair. I have yet to find a way to facilitate any independent, as in just me, activity that does not necessitate copious amounts of hydrogen peroxide, bleach, or new wall board. Or toilet seats.

Speaking of toilets, Shane, who was consoling a naked Malachi as he was pining for his brother's tape measure,   just leapt off the couch and exclaimed,

"What is that on your finger?!" Then proceeded to have the couch and  his, Shane's, pants sniff tested to make sure 'that' was not anywhere else. It wasn't. We, or rather Shane, scrubbed Muffin's hands and put a diaper on him. Apparently, he had used the toilet (yeah!) but still needs some help in the clean-up department.

I just stayed back and watched the whole event. I had been typing for three minutes so I figured some catastrophe was bound to happen any minute. It's not so bad when you can look at such events as a disinterested third party. Or highly entertained by it because its always fun to see people freak out about what you spend most of your day dealing with.  Not that Shane freaked out. He's used to it by now.

It also helps if you do get called in for the clean up. Yesterday I decided to get a jump on the clean up and went out to buy new toilet seats. (Sorry for the toilet-themed post. That's just a consequence of having little boys.) Also a consequence of said boys having difficulties trying to pee in that microscopic basin that keeps moving all over the room just as you lock on to it. Every visit to the bathroom is a like new game of Asteroids. So off to the hardware store I went to try to restore some decency to the bathroom. (You are welcome.)

I had no idea there would be so many choices in the toilet seat department. Also, I had absolutely no idea they made some with built in night lights! Seriously? I don't need another thing to keep supplies with batteries.  Of course I took a picture to show Shane.



 His response was,

"Really? That's so cool! Did you get one?"

Needless to say I did not get anything that would encourage more nighttime activity. Or boys guzzling gallons of water before bed to increase their trips in the dark. Just like 'free' time, sleep is a highly valuable and scarce commodity these days. But maybe I'll remember when it comes time to fill Shane's stocking.


He's earned it this year. Especially for taking care of the poo finger.

I was going to share our academic plans for this year but this post has taken me 5 hours, as many cups of coffee, twice as many diaper changes (for the kids), and  every other sentence I get questions like 'what's for dinner?' 'do you know where my book is?' 'what's the air speed of an unladen swallow?'

In a nut shell we are doing less. I signed the kids up for lots of classes and the week before we were to start I cancelled them all. Except two. The little kids are continuing piano, and as this is Audrey's last year for Drama and Trudy offered to take her to that, we kept that as well. But nothing early in the morning!

I can't believe I didn't so it sooner. As in years ago. It takes so much energy to leave the house with all, or even some, of the kids. And even though Shane's mom has been doing the driving most of the last couple years, it is still an effort to make sure everyone is up and breakfasted and has TWO shoes in the morning. Matching was optional. Plus, I was realizing that outside classes were taking up all the schooling energy I had and leaving us with nothing for the work I would like to be doing with the kids.

Add to that two toddlers, dentist appointments, grocery shopping, and occasional doctor appointments, I'm swamped. As energy is scarcer and scarcer these days and ignoring that fact turns me into exhausted,grumpy, none-fun mom, I finally felt it was time to speak up.

I brought it up to Shane a week before we were to start, bracing my self for the talk I had given myself every time I felt overwhelmed, and honestly, scared, by it all. He listened and then said,

"OK. I do think we need a more family centered and directed school year , not focused or restricted by what classes are available. And something that will not suck all your energy. Let's do it."

None of the,

'oh come on. Don't be such a wimp! My mom's been doing all the driving any way so its not really any effort on your part. This is what we are supposed to be doing now, for the kids.'     Which is what I had been expecting.


So the next day, I joyfully wrote cancellation checks to all the teachers and only had to rip up three of the five, for clerical errors. not sure if it was just the fact I had to write so many numbers that tripped me up or if I was just excited to be unsigning up for the stress that would have accompanied all the classes. Plus, knowing I would not have to do all the tuition checks again in a month was pretty exhilarating.   Either way, every time I realized it was not going to happen I was thrilled and over the next week felt more and more assured we were doing the right thing, planning the activities and subjects we would be doing instead. Shane felt the same way, so I must be right. And the first day of nonclasses while the other mom's were scrambling to get kids in cars and diaper bags and lunch bags packed, I was still in my pajamas drinking coffee. Not because I was being lazy but because we had the crappiest night of sleep we'd had in a long time with both babies waking up just before midnight and not going down again until 2:30am. But the entire time Kateri and I were tending to the babies , Shane still had work in the morning so I thoughtfully did not bug him, all I could think and rejoice about was the fact I didn't have to drag all the kids out of bed in a few hours.


I had always felt resentful of the schedule I had forced us into in years past. I felt a tension between what the baby(ies) needed and what participating in the kids' classes required i.e. being away from home all day. Camping out in the car for hours. Coming home exhausted at dinner time with no energy to cook or clean. Finally recovering just as the next week started. Looking back at those years I  think what an idiot I was. Or maybe that is just the Now Me imagining doing it. Maybe the Then Me did have more energy and a bigger brain. Definitely had better hair.

My definition of homeschooling has definitely evolved over the years. And I am sure it will continue to do so. Right now our plan feels a comfortable fit for the family. I'll share some more details on curriculum etc later. Shane took the kids outside to play so I want to use the time to get dinner going and if the post got any longer I think we would all die of boredom.

 

Oh, look at that! Shane, the peace broker, finally got things talking to other things, resulting in my being able to post a picture. This was from last week. My dad's sister, Sister Judit, was here visiting for a short time and we got to host her for lunch. She is a nun with the Society Devoted to the Sacred Heart ofJesus  (see if you can spot her). She was previously in Hungary and before that Taiwan so it was great to see her here again. Now she is in California, they get sent wherever there is a dire need, so hopefully there will be more opportunities to see her.


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Tradition...

....just because its how its been done for years doesn't mean it's the best.

I thought the story of the girl making a roast for her mom was great illustration of this. The girl invites her mom over and decides to make a roast for dinner. Her mom is watching as the daughter takes out the roast and readies it for the oven. The girl takes a knife, slices off an inch from each end, and throws the scraps in the garbage.

Bewildered, the mom asks,

" Why are  you wasting good meat?"

Having seen her mom make roasts over the years, the bewildered daughter answers,

"Because that's how YOU always made roasts!"

To which the mother responds,

"Yes, but I only did that because my roasting pan was too small."




Speaking of Tradition, capital T, there has been a lot of buzz about Pope Francis' visit to the US, with people trying to predict what he will do and say to try and get with the 'in' crowd and modernize the 2000 year old behemoth of a Church. As if it needs to be turned   into a place where people can do whatever they feel like and still pretend to be part of the Catholic Church. Because, if not, someone might be offended  or feel excluded, or heaven help us, think about it and change their behavior. Why change yourself  when you can just re-write the Ten Commandments? Oh, that's so much better. Its so refreshing to be unfettered by the  Truth, given by, you know, God HIMSELF, and which the martyrs have been dying for years to protect and hand down to people foundering and struggling to find their way as best they can in this crazy world.

Yes, lets just rearrange the directions on our compass and see where it gets us. Well, spoiler alert, but guess what? IT'S NOT HAPPENING!

Here's the deal. There is Truth. If you accept It and promise to live by It to the best of your abilities, welcome to the Catholic Church! If instead, you would like pick and choose your favorites or throw out your non-favorites and continue to live like it's all optional, welcome to the 30,000 and growing other denominations. If you can't find one that's just right for you, don't fret. You can start your own.

 You cannot change Truth to fit your liking, comfort level, or wedding plans.

Abortion?- Killing is still  a no-no.

Contraception?- See above. Along with the teaching on sexuality, fertility, and people are not to be (ab)used as recreational, or occasionally useful means to whatever end I think will make me happy at this particular moment, but which has, in reality lead to a mutual disrespect for women and men, a devaluing of children, and the disintegration of the family. Happiness? Not so much.  Heartache, misery, abandonment, lack of respect and de-humanization of everyone? Just read the news.



There is a lot of confusion about freedom these days. In most people's minds freedom means freedom from. Freedom from responsibility, restrictions, morals, ethics, standards, and pretty much anything a person doesn't like or want to do. Sounds like a 2-year-old's fantasy playland. But, also like a 2 year old with no boundaries,  there are serious consequences. For society and the individual. And despite all the shiny rhetoric and glossy promises, you will be  a slave to so many masters you can't tell up from down. But you are free, man. To be yourself. In all your self-indulgent, self-destructive, egocentric ways. But someday you can get all upset about immigrants not having a place to go to escape real abuse. Like someone trying to KILL them. So, you know. You care. Obviously. And you can relate. Totally.


Perceived slights remedied with misguided  charity is all the rage these days. With disastrous effects.

If you need help figuring out what/how your testicles/ovaries were created for there is help. 'Gender reassigning', sterilization, putting on new clothes, demanding people call you by a different pronoun depending on your mood and a host of other 'solutions' will not help you understand who you and your place in the universe . Sex/sexuality is huge. So huge in fact, there are rules around it. To protect the person. The persons. And the person who might exist as a result. It cannot be manipulated without disastrous outcomes. That is how BIG it is. And that is why the perversion and misuse of it is so toxic. To all of humanity and to the struggling individual grappling with the understanding and implementing of their God-given sexuality.

Women wanting to be priests will be disappointed too. Again. As they are every time and always will be. Amen. Not sure if or why this might make it into a family-focused event, but disgruntled women seem to keep trying so it might.

Marriage will not be redefined to 'include' anything and everything attempting to mimic the first God-given sacrament.

Homosexual behavior  will not gain equal status with married behavior. Individuals with homosexual inclinations will be reaffirmed as people, deserving of love, respect, dignity, and their place in the world, as they always have been and just as every other person deserves as well. Also, not sure if/why this topic might try to make an appearance but everyone wants to try and steal the spotlight so it might happen.

Divorce will still be not-an-option. Just to clarify annulment is not Catholic divorce, but a declaration that this never was a marriage in the first place. Maybe one party was already married. Or was planning on not keeping their marital promises before they were even said, lied, to the other.


So I am sure there will be lots of disappointed parties to bemoan the fact that 'The Church hasn't changed in 2,000 years!!!'

And it won't in the next 2,000 years either.



In breaking with some tradition, we've decided to structure our school year a little, or a lot, differently this year. I'm hoping it will allow for more time for focused work at home and more energy for me to facilitate the work. It has already reduced a fair amount of stress felt in former years by the old way of doing things. And was actually suggested by my mom several years go. Slow learner, I guess.





I thought this article on melatonin and MS was super similar to this one, written by yours truly.

See, I wasn't making it up. There may have been lots more published in the past few months, but as my Surface is lately being occupied playing The Croods , or Despicable Me 2, I was not able to see the news feed Shane set up for me to peruse the latest templated articles. Not sure how much of a loss that is. But I'm a big fan of both The Croods (seriously a lot of life lessons  in this one) and Despicable Me 2 (what is NOT funny about yellow twinkles with that make sounds just like my 1 year old and have the same sense of humor as my 2 year old) so in the end I think I got a good deal.

Litany of Fi

It is heartwarming to see how much Malachi dotes on Fiona. At first I was a little sad his infancy ended so quickly, but seeing how he responded to a tiny baby, being not much more than a not so tiny baby himself, the was never any sibling rivalry. I am sure that will develop over time, like as soon as she is the same height, but until then he is the super protective, doting, older brother.

His morning greeting and exclamations upon seeing her have become a bit of a ritual. He sees her and runs over to give her a hug. Then says,

"Baby so cute."
 

Everyone present responds,

"Yes, baby is so cute."


"Why baby so cute?" Malachi continues.



If the attending persons are distracted by a hot sip of coffee or something and the silence is too long,  he is happy to  nudge them by stating the answer as a question.

"Because God made baby so cute?"

Coffee or other distraction finished, all present repeat:

"Yes. God made baby so cute."

If it is a special Fi(st) day, or if he just wants to use his favorite three letter word, so pretty much every time, he adds:

"WHY God make baby so cute?"

Then because they are all  movable Fi(st) days, there are a variety of appropriate responses. Depending on what cute thing she is doing at the moment.

Then Malachi pats her hair and gives her a kiss. Fiona picks up a f"oam Nerf sword and hits him on the head,  the benediction is concluded, and everyone is dismissed. Due to be repeated whenever Malachi feels moved by the spirit to do so. So every time he sees Fiona. Which we totally get as she is pretty much the cutest thing in the world.

It is refreshing to see how much he adores her, and sort of offsets his more rough (aka pooping on things that are not toilets) side.  We're still working on that. I got him big boy undies and he likes them. Not so much to wear. Yet. And he is pretty scrupulous about making sure the toilet seat is set to HIS seat when he empties the contents of his diaper into it. But it's not a vent so no complaining here. Baby steps.

Speaking of non-baby steps, Fiona  is learning a ton from Malachi, thankfully not the vent trick, yet, and her baby years are already feeling fleeting. It seems every day she is performing a new feat of awesomeness. Climbing up the stair railing? Got it. Opening doors? Thank goodness the doors to the outside were already gated. Climbing up the playset ladder? (I actually nailed that one. With repurposed rabbit cage wire walls to block the escape holes So even though I refer to them as 'the babies,  we really don't have a baby anymore. Which is bittersweet. I thought this really summed up how it feels to watch your babies grow. I am sure when I pack up all her baby clothes I will ache for my stinky Fi at the same time celebrating all her milestones and new found abilities. The 'roll it' part in her 3am pat-a-cake routine gets me every time. I have yet to video tape it, a hazard of not being the First Born, but now that I'm thinking of it and as she is just up from her nap maybe we'll give it a try.

Also, if you haven't, but wanted to enter, leave a comment here to get a chance at winning copy of Fr. Spitzer's new book, Finding True Happiness. I got a few more pages read and am looking forward to reading several uninterrupted, in like 5 years, pages. But so far I really like it and will probably write more about it someday.

Happiness and A Book Giveaway!

My apologies for a very  late, very scattered, and very hurried post, but just like the mostly clean shirt Malachi is wearing today, this is the only choice.

I actually started this post the other day, 5 minutes before Fiona decided to start her "I will  now only ever nap for 45 minutes or as long as it takes for mom to decide she will attempt to write and only gets as far a making a latte. Or whichever comes first." It's one of my favorite phases, for sure and is surely just a short segue before  entering the never napping ever phase. My second favorite. But I gave each of the babies a plate of whipped cream and some utensils to play with to their hearts' content or until the whipped cream hits the chandelier. I think the latter will result in the former. And maybe I can hit post before then.

So yes, I said there would be  an opportunity to get an awesome book for free in the next week. And I think its been a sufficient amount of weeks since then.   here is the book. I have not finished reading it yet, for the same reasons the laundry is not done, this post is late, and my hair looks like it does.

(I would like to also point out Shane was gone hiking for a few days last week so things were pretty busy, and when he was home Malachi took his game up like 7 notches which included a bottle of syrup, some coffee, a rug, and some furniture. I was sure I was going to find a waffle and some bacon somewhere, as that would really round out the menu but I guess he couldn't find any. Everything, and everyone, survived and we are back to our version of normal for now.) And on to the book giveaway.


If you  were in the Seattle area some 20+ years ago, wow I feel old, you may have had the opportunity to hear Fr Spitzer, the author of the book,  in person. He taught at Seattle University and it seemed every few months my mom was making us get up at ungodly hours to go to the university to hear him speak on the four levels of happiness. I remember most of his talk, and being really tired, the coffee, and pistachio covered baklava. (So Level One, I know) I was 13, so.... um nothing. But I knew about the other levels. So that was something. I thought.

Fr Spitzer has recently put out a new book, an in-depth look at happiness.  What makes us happy and why? And why does or doesn't the happiness last? And what can we do about it? (For a brief overview of the Four Levels of Happiness go here. ) 

Three more volumes are planned for  future releases covering topics of transcendence, suffering, and evil. I say that because after reading the forward 4 times and going over it with my sister we finally figured the volumes 2, 3,4, all of which have titles and are referenced, are not available yet. I was super confused for a couple days.  But maybe that little bit of information will save someone the brain energy of sorting it out on their own.

 For a chance to win a copy of his book, leave a comment here and you'll be entered to win one.
I'll announce the winner here next Friday. I think I can remember that.

In addition to being a priest, philosopher, theologian, teacher, and astrophysicist he loves people and really wants to share with as many people as he can. He founded the magiscenter.com and offers a host of resources available online. If you are interested in science, reason and how it all fits together it's the place to go. Shane has been going through   the Principles&Choices series with the bigger kids  and they finished the Science&God series and all they enjoyed them both quite a bit.

So this is not how I had planned to introduce the book and am not able to really do it justice just now, but if you or anyone you know struggles with happiness, or has difficulty finding purpose and meaning in life take a look at it. And if you'd like a chance to win a copy of the book, for yourself or a friend,  leave a comment.

Also, I have no clue why the font is all changing willy-nilly. Maybe it has something to do with the big whipped cream covered napkin Malachi just launched onto my keyboard. Shane's not home so I'm on my own in that department.    Time to pay the piper and clean up the kitchen. And the kids. And that will make me happy.