Yup, the Randomizer is Ours

Ever since Sara and I started courting, it's normal for us to bring books to the table to read. In fact, even when we went out to eat at restaurants (before we had kids in tow), we'd often bring books with us.

Apparently Addie has inherited this behavior. This was the scene at the table tonight.


Also, tonight Addie came up to me with a folded "letter" for her friend across the street. She pointed to a picture of the flag. "I drew this United States flag way up in the corner because Jesus rose from the dead when He was buried."

The Randomizer strikes again.

--DJ

P.S. I use the digital camera only rarely. When I snapped the picture tonight, Sara asked me, "Do you realize that you usually take pictures of Addie reading?" Which is true. I just think it's cute.

P.P.S. Actually, we think the Randomizer comment came out because a few days ago I had been explaining that flags are flown at half-mast when an important person dies.

Things Everyone Needs

Everyone needs...



A wrestling aunt in a lamb hat.

**
Everyone needs...



A funny, funny picture to brighten a rainy day.

Stuart saw this picture and giggled incessently. Whenever I showed it to someone else, he'd look over my shoulder and giggle some more. About the third or fourth viewing, he noticed that Mama looked kind of silly, too. What else is funny in this picture? It's HORSIE, of course. That brown thing that Stuart is holding. Horsie is fall-on-the-floor funny in this picture.


*

Everyone needs...



A pretty baby doll among the toys

*
Everyone needs...


A picture of your younger brother getting into something he's not supposed to. (Photo by Addie.)

-- SJ

Kid Snippets

Welcome JJJ!... Jackson Josiah Jones was born December 19 to Evan and Jill. He came 15 days before due date, much to his mother's relief, seeing as he arrived at 9 lbs, 2oz! A fine Christmas present all 'round. (News posted 10 days late, but we figure they intend to keep him so it's okay.)

***
St. Dawn... Darren was reading the story of the Resurrection to Stuart, who was paying more attention to the illustration of the women walking toward the tomb. Darren read, "As dawn approached..."

Stuart interrupted, "Which one is Dawn?"

***
Not So Loud Next Time...
Darren: Stuart, I told you to go brush your teeth.

Addie: GO BRUSH YOUR TEETH!

Darren: Addie, I'll take care of this.

Addie: I was just talking to myself.

***
Did I Drop a Hint Around Here?... Darren gave me a bag of Harry & David chocolate-covered strawberries for Christmas. They've sat neglected on the counter because, due to an infected ear and swollen jaw, I haven't been able to eat easily. Darren drilled it into Addie that the strawberries were Mama's, and she was not to beg for any. So she didn't.

This morning, however, she asked, "Is your ear better yet so you can eat?"

After a moment, I realized where the conversation was tending. "No, I can't eat a strawberry yet. Do you want one?"

"Oh! Thank you for offering!"

***

We Uphold Good Eating Habits in This House...

In came Stuart. "May I please have a strawberry!"

"No, you can't have one. You haven't even eaten breakfast."

Pause. Process.

"I'm hungry for toast!"

***
We Enforce Personal Responsibility in this House...

"Who moved Daphne off her blanket?!"

Silence from the only sibling present.

"Stuart, did you move Daphne?"

"No, he didn't."

"Who didn't?"

"Stuart didn't."

"Then who did?"

"Baby Boo-Boo did it."

"Stuart! I told you not to pick up your sister!"

"Stuart didn't do it! Baby Boo-Boo did it!"

"Well, whoever you are, don't do it!"

***
More Heartfelt than Eloquent... "Mama, I love you, and even though other people think you're ugly, I think you're pretty."

-- SJ

Merry Christmas

I'd write a heartwarming description of our Rockwell-like Christmas Day -- which really was wondrously fun even with family so far away from us -- but I've just returned from the ER with an ear infection. No, wait, I WENT to the ER with an ear infection, and came back with antibiotics and codeine. I've just taken the latter, and am waiting happily for it to knock me out all night. Consequently, I'm just able to construct this blog post, although it's becoming increasingly difficult to put words in the right order, assuming I think of the right words in the first place. Later, when not in pain or under the influence of drugs (wow, I love codeine!), I will write a heartwarming description of our Rockwell-like Christmas Day -- which really was wondrously fun even with family so far away from us I think I need to stop now.

-- SJ (I think)

4 & 5

I spent 45 minutes this morning mentally composing this post about how much easier I have it now that my children are four and five. Then I spent 45 minutes this evening in a physcial and emotional battle with the four-year-old, which culminated in scream-induced vomit all over the carpet, and I didn't have supper even started when Darren got home. Irony rocks.

Dear friend,

You apologize when you find your life overwhelming. You tell me, "You have three kids, so why should I be complaining to you?" But see, I have a 5-year-old, a 4-year-old, and a non-mobile baby. You have a 3-year-old and a 7-month-old who crawls. See the difference? No? Let me spell it out:

At 4 and 5 years old, my children can:
* Get themselves out of bed

* Dress themselves (4's clothes are almost invariably backwards, but at least I didn't have to do it)

* Take themselves to the bathroom

* Make toast

* Get their own water

* Put on their own socks and shoes

* Play together without adult help

* Play outside without wandering into the street

* Generally do not take off running in public

* Understand when I tell them, "You can't have it now, but you can have it after supper."

* Go to their rooms for Quiet Play without being escorted

* Help clean up (still working on this, of course, but it's at a functional stage now.)

* Be allowed into every room without inevitable horrible disasters

* Brush their teeth

* Brush their hair

* Amuse themselves in their rooms until they fall asleep at night

So as far as sheer physical maintenance is concerned, I live a life of virtual luxury. I detail these things not so you will be jealous, but so you'll remember in the midst of yet another potty accident, or another plant pulled over onto the carpet, that This Too Shall Pass. I wish I'd realized that at your stage. I'd have enjoyed my very young children more then, knowing that someday they really wouldn't be babies anymore.

-- SJ

Christmas Survey II

Darren's the survey person, not me, but this one didn't require me to make lists. -- SJ

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Eggnog, which I've loved since I bought myself a carton and tried it at about age 18. I don't know why we never had it around at home -- maybe Mom didn't like it. Anyway, hot chocolate always promises more than it delivers, but eggnog is lovely. One day I want to try the real stuff, with real rum.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree?
Santa doesn't do a blasted thing. He leaves all the work for us.

3. Colored or white lights on the tree and/or house?
Colored. I thought white lights were oh-so-elegant about seven years ago, but since then have gotten tired of them and like bursts of color. I expect this opinion to change in about, oh, seven years.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No. It just didn't seem very romantic to me after my brothers explained that it's a parasite and kills trees.

5. When do you put your decorations up?
Well. In the Roberts-McAdory household, decorations didn't go up until December 15, enforced by my oldest brother whose birthday is the 14th. A curse, he said, would fall upon the family if we started Christmas any earlier. Thanksgiving- or Day-After Decorating is still anathema in my family. However, in these liberating years of marriage, I usually am ready to decorate as early as December 8 or 9.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?
My grandmother always made cornbread dressing (which is like stuffing, only it's called dressing). We ate it by the pound. We didn't have any other annual dishes, however. Not even turkey. We had ham, or roast beef, or one year we had a tray of cold-cuts and bread for sandwiches. As this is only our sixth Christmas as a couple, Darren and I haven't really established any Christmas food traditions yet.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child.
Shooting fireworks on Christmas night!

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
About 7 or 8. Old enough to feel duped and foolish. It doesn't take a qualified psychologist to figure out why Santa is not a big deal in our household now.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?
Christmas Eve was when we "did" Christmas at my grandparents' house, but all the gifts at home stayed tightly wrapped until The Day Itself. As Darren mentioned, though, we'll often open one gift on Christmas Eve night.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?Mainly with wedding gifts, as Darren described. Our tree isn't beautiful or spectacular, but the kids think it's both. Our favorite ornament is, of course, The Pickle.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
Snow is still a wondrous sight to this Southern girl. Whenever we get a snow, I peek outside every half-hour or so to report to Darren if it's still coming down. And then I stand at the window and look at the changed world outside. Darren just can't get that excited about it, but at least I have kids to share my amazement.

12. Can you ice skate? I grew up roller-skating, balanced nicely with two wheels on front and two wheels on the back, and a brake at the toe. I actually have ice-skated, and my roller-skating training came in handy, but I don't like it as much. The last time I ice-skated, I had just begun realizing that I was pregnant with Addie, and remember thinking that I and Baby were skating together.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? As a child, it was a pink bike named "Sea Princess" (a stupid name for a bike, but aimed squarely at its nine-year-old-girl market. I adored it.) In recent years, a cookie press from Darren.

14. What’s the most important thing about the holidays for you?
Celebrating Jesus’ birth

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?
Probably pecan pie (the kind made with "pi-CONS, not "PE-cans")

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?
"Christmas riding" -- driving around to see the decorations. And also, of course, opening presents.

17. What tops your tree?
The wire-framed angel was a wedding gift. Growing up, our trees were far too tall and big to have a meaningful topper. By the time you got up to 18 feet, it didn't matter what was on top.

18. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving?
Receiving, because I'm not a confident gift-giver so holidays and birthdays are a source of anxiety to me.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
Following my husband's lead, like a good Biblical wife I am, I'll list more than one:
"Joy to the World"
"Winter Wonderland"
"One Small Child"

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or yum? Well, if it's all you've got, I'll take it.

-- SJ

Christmas Survey

Which I first saw at Bonfire of the Vanities and then was prodded into doing by seeing it again at Queen of Carrots. Go see both of them; they've got some funny (and insightful) answers.

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?
Eggnog. Lots of it.

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just set them under the tree?

Um, Santa’s wife often wraps the presents :) I can do it, but I don’t like doing it.

3. Colored or white lights on the tree and/or house?

Colored. White is boring. (Sorry, Mom.)

4. Do you hang mistletoe?

No. I don’t need any excuse to kiss my wife :)

5. When do you put your decorations up?

Usually about halfway through December. When I was kid, I wouldn't have minded doing it before Thanksgiving; now I wouldn't mind waiting until a day or two before Christmas.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?

Pies are good. So are Christmas cookies. I’m counting them as snacks, not desserts.
Mom makes a really yummy Hawaiian salad with whipped cream, pineapple, coconut, etc. that I really like.
Stuffing is always good.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child.

Going out to the Hills in New York for Christmas with my cousins.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?

I have no idea. Dad and Mom never really made a big deal about it.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?

Growing up, we always used to open all our gifts on Christmas Eve, but since I’ve gotten married, we always do it Christmas morning. I think we’ve opened one on Christmas Eve a time or two, though, like maybe a game to play together.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?

Sara and I were given lots of ornaments for our wedding (great gift idea, by the way, if you’re ever feeling stumped about what to get someone). Theoretically, the lights should go on first, then the garland, then the ornaments. However, this year, we’d invited the next door neighbor girl over to help decorate before realizing that none of the strings of lights worked and we needed to get some more, so the lights went on last.

The most important ornament is a glass green pickle that goes on last. Each year, we ask someone special to put it on for us. Lindsay has done it; so has Father Tim, our pastor. This year, Daphne did the honors.

11. Snow! Love it or dread it?

If there’s no big work project on, I love it.

12. Can you ice skate?

Not any more. Mom and Dad had me take lessons when I was in primary (that’s kindergarten for you non-Canadians out there), but I’ve only done it a couple times since.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?

I’ve gotten lots of great gifts. Some of my favorites are a bathrobe from Sara and a Renaissance chess set from Dad and Mom. My brother Evan has bought me a subscription to Christian History magazine the last couple years, and that’s definitely high on my list of favorites.

14. What’s the most important thing about the holidays for you?

Celebrating Jesus’ birth.

15. What is your favorite holiday dessert?

Cherry-o-cream pie. Yum.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

Opening presents. Singing carols.

17. What tops your tree?

A wire-frame angel. For some reason, when I was growing up, I came to the conclusion that Christians had angels on the tops of their Christmas trees, while non-Christians put stars. A completely unreasonable assumption, I know, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable with a star at the top of mine.

18. Which do you prefer, giving or receiving?

Giving.

19. What is your favorite Christmas song?

How can I limit it?? Christmas is one of the best times of the year to hear good music.
I’m going to list five. It’s my list; I can “five” if I want to!

Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming
Hark! the Herald Angels Sing - some of the best theology ever written in song, even if it is only singable by us tenors :)
What Child is This?
For Unto Us a Child is Born – from Handel’s Messiah
O Come, All Ye Faithful – both English and Latin, please

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or yum?
Yuck. Give me soft candy over hard any day.

--DJ

A Rose By Any Other Name...

Stuart chose "Baby Shakespeare" for video time today. Since it was a half-hour one, Addie got to choose one also, and she chose Peter Rabbit.

Stuart was delighted: "Hey! They both have Peter! Peter Rabbit and Baby Shakespeter! Is that cool?"

-- SJ

In Addie's Own Words

Entirely of her own accord, Addie sat down and typed out the following emails to my mom ("Mam") and Darren's mom ("Nana"). I'll be turning over blogging to her pretty soon:

***
dear mam i am sending a NOTE TO YOU, I THINK YOU WILL LIKE YOUR LETTR, AND I WILL SHOW MY MAMA, AND MY MAMA WILL SEND YOUR
LETTR TOYOU

LOVEADDIE

***
DEAR NANA I AM SENDING A LETTR TOYOU
MERRY CRISMAS BECUESE I AM SENDING A CRISMAS LETTR
TOYOU HAVE FUN LOVE ADDIE


-- AJ (and SJ)

Questions and Answers

Why Haven't I Updated the Blog?

1. Because I hadn't done any Christmas shopping until last week, when I spent two evenings binge shopping -- all online.

2. Because segments of uninterrupted composing time is rare. Anytime I'm on the computer, the kids either start fighting or wiggle into my lap requesting to play "Hammer Heads."

3. Because I've spent a lot of time playing the Popcap.com game "Hammer Heads." It's the first Popcap game we've actually bought, and Stuart is fairly obssessed with it. So when I play it, I'm spending quality time with him.

4. Because I've put together a recipe book for my family's Christmas present, trying to include all our most memorable recipes. They all run along the lines of, "Deep-Fried Turkey with Blackened Grass: Deep-fry turkey. Put out grass fire," or, "Fun-shaped Pasta: Cook spaghetti in a crockpot all day. That evening, your family can sit down to a warm, 16-ounce, crockpot-shaped noodle!" I got to play with fonts, formatting, and buy special paper for the project. It's been much more engrossing that trying to come up with a blog post.

5. Because we've been putting up Christmas trees, baking cookies, and playing in the snow. Oh, wait, my mistake -- it's been 50 degrees here the last few days! No snow, but it sure made putting up outside lights much more pleasant.

Why Am I Able to Update My Blog Now?

1. Because Darren was up all night sick.

2. Because Addie had to be moved out of her bed because she got sick in it.

3. Because Stuart is still asleep but probably will wake up pretty soon to get sick.

So far Daphne and I are the holdouts, and I'm praying mostly for Daphne, pretty resigned to the fact that I'll come down with it, too. And seizing the spare time, however unhappily come by, to update the blog.

-- SJ

When Lindsay Was Here

When you get a rare, whirlwind weekend visit from a beloved sister/aunt, naturally you want to do things up special. So when Lindsay came down last weekend, here are some of the wild and crazy things we did:

* Went grocery shopping. I apologized for the necessity, and said we could skip it if she didn't feel like eating for the next two days. But grocery shopping isn't so bad that the store has a kids' room where Addie and Stuart can play for up to an hour and a half while I shop. The service is free of charge, because the store knows darn well that parents will shop more and spend more money without kids hanging off the carts.

* Cleaned the bathroom. Really. Lindsay recommended a new cleaner, which I bought, and then we had to see how it worked.

* Did NOT snicker behind Darren's back because he had a cold and walked around like a martyr all weekend.

* Took naps. The grownups did, anyway. Oh, and also the baby, who sleeps most of the day and then is up until midnight every night.

* Speaking of midnight, I was glad to find out that our security system works, although it wasn't an ideal time for me to do a test run.

* Went to church, where Stuart earned the distinction of "being like Chloe and Tucker combined." I knew he was bright, Jill, but had no idea he was such an overacheiver.

* Sat around on the floor a lot while Addie and Stuart played around us, and Daphne lay?... laid?... reclined herself on the floor, cooing and smiling in the best Hollywood baby style.

* Had to say goodbye. A stupid necessity. Addie and Stuart proposed the perfect solution, which was that Aunt Lindsay would come down to live near us again. (Would people in New Hampshire please not scream so loudly?)

Miss you, Linds!

-- SJ

(We did get pictures, but it takes two and a half ages to upload them on this computer, so I have to send them to work with Darren so he can post them there. I tell you, picture-taking is a difficult process in my family.)

Still Practicing

And having great fun with my new toy.

-- SJ


If there's grown-up work to do, Addie considers herself essential. No rake was available, so she got a broom.



Stuart's idea of helping involves more companionship than any actual work. He says the trashcan is his brother. Not that Daphne is a disappointment or anything....



And Daphne's job is to smile and look adorable.

Look What The Joneses Got

After a only a couple dozen hints and nudges from family and friends, we realized we needed a digital camera. This post really is just practice, but at least I had cute subjects to work on. -- SJ



Daphne wonders: What is that strange object in Mama's hands? Will it feed me? Will it hold me? So put it down and pick me up.



What a great Daddy! He raked up all these leaves just for us!



At least one of us in this picture is cute.

The Boy is Four

He isn't cute, he isn't little, and he's no longer three years old: Happy Birthday to Stuart.
Yesterday was Stuart's fourth birthday, and was he ever impressed by that fact. For some time, he's refused to let us call him "cute," because only babies and girls are cute. Now we can't call him "little boy," either. Never mind that he's still so adorable that I have to squeeze him. Fortunately, he's always happy to cuddle and squeeze Mama... as long as Daddy's not anywhere around.

The same boy who never can remember where he put his clothes during Quiet Play (he prefers the minimalist look most of the day), who has to be reminded dozens of times a day to say "please" and "yes, ma'am," is the same boy who remembers the names of seven different stuffed animals, a score of mythological characters, and two new Little People dragons. He's quick with math and working on reading, and is showing promise as an action-novel author: "Once upon a time there was a mountain giant named Organize." Pause. "Whack, whack, whack, whack!"

He's our little sunshine-and-thunderclouds, either very happy or very unhappy, with only seconds separating the two extremes. He's Addie's best friend, proud to be Daphne's big brother, and still pretty sure he's the funniest person on the planet. We love our not-cute, not-little, big four-year-old boy!

-- SJ

A Belated Thanks

This Thanksgiving, I have much to be thankful for. But I want to focus on publicly thanking two families whom I am very grateful to for their hospitality to me when I was single.

First, the Wakeman family in Maine, my cousins. During one summer when I was in Bible School, the Wakemans found me a job at McDonald’s and then opened up their house so I could live with them. It was one of the most fun summers of my life – my cousins and I would work the night shift, get home in the wee hours of the morning, and sleep until 10 or 11. We’d work in the garden a bit or mow the lawn, watch Rush Limbaugh and CHiPs, and just have a good time hanging out together. This is the summer I learned how to cook stir-fry, and where I got the idea that dads should cook Sunday breakfast so moms aren’t under so much stress getting ready for church. Thanks, Wakemans!

Second, the Hall family here in Virginia. When they invited me to come live with them, Mr. Hall said the only rule was that I had to be part of the family – no just considering myself a tenant. I couldn’t have asked for a better family; they were always welcoming, supportive, and fun to be with. I learned how to listen to two conversations, one in each ear (thanks, twins!), engaged in late night talks with Christian parents who loved their kids and each other dearly, and most importantly, found out the proper way to clean a bathroom. Besides, they introduced me to AWANA, which I liked so much that now my kids are in it. Thanks, Halls! You guys are wonderful.

--DJ

Vignettes on Womanhood

While mentally composing a post, I was playing around with the wording and came up with, "I did not enjoy planning our wedding, but in the end it came off nicely. Mostly because, in the end, it was finally done and I could get on with what I was really interested in: being a wife."

But that's not accurate. I wasn't looking forward to being "a wife." Just like I wasn't looking forward to being "a mother," except in the vaguest abstract sense. What I was interested in was being Darren's wife. Likewise, I'm not one of the women who declare "I love being a mommy!" I love being Addie's and Stuart's and Daphne's mama. Such was my moment of self-revelation.

***

I've talked to three or four women recently who have said that either they want another child and husband doesn't, or the other way around. And I think, If you want another child, why don't you have one? You won't get to revisit the question in "Life: the Sequel."

***

Along the same line of thought, I saw a celebrity quoted as saying, "Anybody who doesn't have a child in this lifetime misses the big picture." As Darren remarked, "Well, I don't want a child in this lifetime, but when I come back as a bunny, I'll think about it then."

***

In today's America, girls and boys grow up under a ferocious emphasis of equality. Whatever a boy can do, a girl can do. Whatever a girl likes, a boy can like, too. Secure in their interchangeability, the boy and girl grow up into a man and woman. They get to know one another on an adult level. And a disturbing suspicion germinates in the woman's mind, which reaches full-flower during pregnancy: Biology does not play fair and equal among the sexes.

You wouldn't think it necessary for us to discover this fact, but judging from books, articles, and my own experience during my first pregnancy, it comes as a surprise. You're halfway through the first trimester, your state-of-being ranging from constantly carsick to barely able to function; your emotions come and go without any reference to reality; your body changes in ways from microscopic to blatantly obvious. And you look at your husband and it hits you like lightning: "Hey! He's half responsible for this new life! Why doesn't he have go through any of this?"

God obviously didn't consult the modern American mind before He created men and women.

-- SJ

Interviews and Conversations

Interview with the Jones Kids
(or, I Can't Think Of Anything to Post But Need to Update the Blog)

Note: Some interviewees were more helpful than others.

Q: What season is it?
A: Fall. November.
S: Bingamgo!

Q: Are any important days coming up in November?
A: Like Stuart's birthday?
S: Bambabinga!

Q:What do you want to do for your birthday?
S: Play and play and play and play and play. What are we going to do for my birthday?
Q: I don't know. I haven't figured it out yet.
S: But tell me!

Q: What games do the two of you like to play together?
A: Baby Medusas.
S: Baby games. You just be a baby. A baby that you don't know. Well, I know cyclopses and others.

Q: When are you going to stop waking up at uncivil times of night and staying up for an hour before dropping off again?
D: That's a cranky question. You should nap more during the day, like I do.

-- SJ, AJ, SJ2, DJ2

***
Conversations with Addie

As reported by Nina, bringing our girls home from gymnastics:

Addie: Do you know Heather?
Nina: No, I don't think so.
Addie: She's Stevie's sister.
Nina: Oh, well, who is Stevie?
Addie: Heather's brother!

***
Addie, to Mollie: Do you go to public school?
Mollie: Um...
Nina: Yes, she does.
Addie: Public school is boring.
Mollie (indignantly): My school isn't boring!
Addie: Well, in public school you can't pray to God or Jesus.

("Oh," I said to Nina. "I guess she did listen to me after all.")

-- SJ

I Bet You Didn't Know

You can sing the ABCs to the tune of "Camptown Races."

and

You can sing "Yankee Doodle" to the tune of "Good King Wenceslaus."

-- SJ

The Feast of All Saints

(Not, as I originally typed, All Satins)

The tradition, now in its fifth year, carries on in high spirit, by which I mean that the food was good again. The spread this year revealed the perhaps startling fact that pizza is very saintly in nature. And also that the Joneses got lazy and, instead of homemade pasta casserole, served pizza from a box. (The other pizzas, from our neighbors Nina and Dana, were decked out with red- and green-pepper stars to represent Christmas and St. Nicholas, and were much tastier.) In honor of St. Ambrose of Milan, I did make some Italian-herb bread. We also served Milano cookies, an idea we shamelessly stole from Peter and Kelly S's contribution last year. A tiramisu cake joined us in spirit.

Leah G.'s St. Brigid of Ireland brought us Irish soda bread, while Leah D's St. Mary provided some native Middle-Eastern hummus. Charlessa G couldn't come at the last minute, but thoughtfully sent along her "Bakewell tart," which she says is a traditional sweet on St. George's day in England... at least according to one random person on the Internet. ("Now that I have the internet, I don't even have to read my Bible anymore." -- enduring quote from Kris G., for those who knew him.) The tart was good on the party night, but is one of those dishes that improves after setting. I was in the position to know, since of course we got the leftovers.

St. Basil the Great of Cesarea made a fine showing, via Katie S, with yogurt soup and kataifi -- a dessert that tastes much like baklava. (I was in the position to know that, too.) St. Francis Xavier, missionary to Japan and assigned to Sarah and Nathan M, served up sushi and Japanese rice cracker mix. St. Joan of Arc was the the most groan-worthy connection: Deidre and Jeremiah M brought roast beef, as Joan was burnt at the "steak." They also brought a Merlot wine steak sauce for dipping, so we forgave them. And St. Patrick, in company with Daniel and Rachel S, supplied potato chips... potatoes come from Ireland, get it? The kids certainly got them, in platefuls.

The trivia game -- there's always a trivia game -- was followed by the Situation Game. (Guests from former years will recognize this game.) We grouped people (and, thus, saints), and then gave them a dire distress from which their saints had to rescue them. A burning building, a train held up by robbers, and a sinking ship... all resolved neatly according to the saints' particular strengths. All of which included coverting everyone present. (Note to self: next time we play this game, do not assign self St. Ambrose, whose primary strength was that he was an excellent preacher and theologian, not a heaping big help on a sinking ship.)

We finished up by singing "For All The Saints," and then closed with a traditional evening prayer (Compline). And thus ended the Fifth Annual All-Saints' Day Party. See y'all next year!

-- SJ

A Fun Idea for Ballots

The Curt Jester has a good suggestion for adding emoticons to voting machines.

"With the advent of so many LCD touch screens in the voting booth just how hard would it be to able to add emoticons with each of your votes? When the emoticons are tabulated politicians would see exactly what you really think of them. Right now a vote appears to them to be an 100 percent vote of approval. It would be great for their humility to get a 80 percent 'yawning' and a 10 percent 'grossed out' along with other ratings."

--DJ

Bloopers

I usually carpool to work. We park at a local church and then someone drives. With five of us, it works pretty well.

A couple weeks ago, when Chuck dropped me off in the evening, I felt all my pockets for the keys, and couldn't find them. Nervously, I got in the car, and sure enough, there they were, hanging from the ignition. I felt dumb.

Then I shifted into Drive and drove home. Without having to turn on the car. Because I'd left it idling all day long.

God takes care of fools, I guess :)

--DJ


***

We're gearing up for our 5th Annual All Saints' Day Party. In honor of this event, I donated a tiramisu cake to a random patron of Martin's grocery store.

It was after 7:30 p.m. Our family of now-five paraded out to the van, each parent barking various orders to whiny kids. We loaded up the groceries, loaded up the kids, and headed off to do one more errand before going home. Once home and in the house, Darren asked if the cake made it inside, upon which we realized that it hadn't made it out of the cart.

Of course when I went back to find it, it was long gone. I found the cart, parked inside, completely devoid of anything that looked like a cake. But, on reflection, I found comfort in the thought that -- possibly -- I had been instrumental in a miraculous intervention in mundane life. As follows:

Possibly, just possibly, someone on this chilly November night suffered a heavy heart. Her grandmother, a feisty Italian woman whose favorite saint was Ambrose of Milan, was having her 95th birthday party. What Grandmother loved above all else was tiramisu cakes. Alas, there was no money to get her one!

In her solitary ramble, the heartbroken granddaughter at length found herself strolling through the parking lot of Martin's. She gazed bleakly at the brightly-lit sign proclaiming "Bakery." What good did a bakery do her, when there was no money?

"Oh, Ambrose," was the sigh, "couldn't you manage just one little tiramisu cake for my grandmother?"

As she turned away, her eye caught sight of a cart parked in the corral, one of those carts with the red truck on the front. And, what could this be on the lower shelf? A cake! She stepped closer, and with trembling hand picked it up. It was a tiramisu cake! There was no one in sight, no one to claim this orphaned delicacy.

"Oh, thank you!" she whispered. She hardly noticed the chilly wind as she hurried home. So great was her joy that she nearly didn't get out of the way of the grey Ford Windstar -- license plate JONESES -- that tore into the parking lot.

"Crazy drivers," she muttered, cradling the cake and disappearing into the darkness.

-- SJ

The Namer

Stuart has inherited my compulsion to name everything. Some of his more memorable christenings:

* Pinky-pom
* Cholken
* Cracker-Barrel (a cyclops)
* Organize (a mountain giant)

He rarely calls Daphne by her name, instead collecting nicknames from us: Daffodil, Daffy-down-dilly, Daffy-doodle, and Fussbudget.

And then there's his new addition to our nighttime prayers: "Please bless Mama, Daddy, Addie, Daffy-down-dilly, and all my other brothers and sisters." 'All my other brothers and sisters' include Thor, Odin, Isis, and Gaia.

-- SJ

The Randomizer

Darren (in response to Addie's kicking his feet while he was reading the paper): "Are you trying to get some attention?"

Addie: Is 'attention' the French way of saying 'apple peel'?

***
(Completely unconnected to the conversation currently in progress): "Could you and Daddy live together if your hair was different?"

The Randomizer has spoken.

-- SJ

P.S. Not a Randomizer, but funny: Addie was reading a book and gasped, "It says Satan! It says, 'Some people thought they heard the rustle of Satan'!" Spelled s-a-t-i-n.

Pretty Picture Postcards

I was wondering if some of y'all could help me decorate the house. It's a pretty low-key job to volunteer for -- you don't have to show up, you don't have to move anything, and you don't have to hang anything. All you have to do is send me a postcard from where you live.

Better Homes and Gardens, a magazine that I pretend to parody and disdain, but which I actually read faithfully every month, had a decorating idea that I actually can use. It showed a wall of postcards mounted in frameless boxes, making a colorful and interesting display. Of course, this being BH&G, they were vintage postcards. I'd rather have postcards from friends who are still alive. I'd like at least eight, which I'll hang around a shadow box of memoriabilia from our honeymoon trip through five states. If I get more than eight, though, that's all the better. (If I don't get any at all, I'll assume no one reads the blog and I'll shut it down. So there.)

Mail them to Darren at HSLDA:

P.O. Box 3000
Purcellville, VA 20134-9000

Thanks! I'd love to provide pizza for everyone who helps, but I think the Post Office would have me assassinated.

-- SJ

Addie Logic

"Will taste buds bloom into taste flowers?"

"Here is an M&M, Mama. Now Daphne will have chocolate milk to drink."

-- SJ

Observation

Activities for Which a Thumbtip is Necessary:

* Zipping
* Opening envelopes
* Buttoning
* Flipping open a toothpaste tube
* Unbuckling a seatbelt
* Pulling open diaper tabs
* Snapping
* Opening gifts
* Sewing

In other news, I got a thorn in my right thumbtip the other day.

-- SJ

A Funny Game

I ran across this description of a (so-far) fictional game designed by a humor blogger.

Theopoly

"The object of Theopoly is to take over all the courts and then the winner can impose a theocracy"

The best quote, in my opinion: "If a player lands on the "Go to Hell' square they they must move their token to the Hell square. They can not move from this square until they have shown repentance by throwing two threes - the age at which Jesus died on the cross. If any Catholics are playing the game they should be reminded that Purgatory is not a second chance and that those in a state of mortal sin must repent to avoid Hell. If a player throws three sets of sixes in a row, the sign of the anti-Christ, they must move their token to Hell."

--DJ

Return of the -izers

The Generalizer (who is very conscious of ranks in her AWANA Club):
"Five-year-old girls who have grown out of their green jackets give them to their three-year-old Cubbie brothers."

The Randomizer:
"There's a helicopter! It's Mam's helicopter!"

-- SJ

Another Selection from the Irreverent Song Book

Lyricist's note: I actually like the song "He Is Exalted." Even in my raging anti-praise-song phase, I liked it but wouldn't admit it. And in my later years I have learned to enjoy a "praise and worship" time that lasts longer than seven minutes. Still, the fact remains that a great deal of praise music is lightweight and self-focused, its only virtue being that it can be repeated indefinitely in a spiritual-sounding sort of way. To that reality is the following dedicated:

We Are Exhausted
(to the tune of "He Is Exalted")

We are exhausted
Completely exhausted
Oh my! We're still singing!

We are exhausted
Completely exhausted
Oh why
Can't this song end?

We're also bored:
The music sounds all the same.
Here we go again,
The fourth time through this refrain!

We are exhausted
Completely exhausted
Oh my!

-- SJ (with apologies to Twila Paris)

Happy Birthday

It's here again! The man of the house is celebrating another birthday. We stopped a few kids in the living room to get their opinion of the man himself:

Q: Why do you love Daddy?
A: He plays Empire Earth with me.

Q: What do you love about Daddy?
A: I loved giving him the Santa for a present.

Q: What is something Daddy does that you like?
A: He plays Age of Mythology with us.
A: And Empire Earth!

Q: What do you love about Daddy?
A: He won't FEEEED me, but he takes me to FOOOOOD!!

We went shopping yesterday, and today Darren opened presents including a spinning-spark-making thing (Stuart) and a glittery bobbling Santa (Addie). Daphne couldn't be awakened for a decision.

Happy birthday to my marvelous man! We love you!!

-- SJ

Yet another list!

Christianity Today has a list of "The Top 50 Books That Have Shaped Evangelicals." It's a very narrow list, as the magazine admits; "Books that have been published since World War II—not every book in the history of Christianity. Books that over the last 50 years have altered the way American evangelicals pray, gather, talk, and reach out—not books that merely entertained."

I found it very interesting to read through the list to see which ones I'd read.

Read completely: 48, 45, 43, 41, 39, 37, 34, 33, 32, 31, 28, 27, 22, 20, 17, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 3.

Read some of: 49, 42, 25, 19, 18, 6, 5.

I think it would be fascinating to come back to this list in another 50 years and see if any of them are still around. I wouldn't bet on most of them. I'll bet "Mere Christianity" and "A Wrinkle in Time" have the best chance. Possibly "Knowing God" and "Celebration of Discipline" as well. Probably "The Cost of Discipleship" too.

--DJ

Comfort Books

Our friend Nina loves the book A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. She says she reads it at least once a year: "It's the book I like to have when it's grey and cold outside, and I just want to curl up with something. It's my comfort book."
So we wondered, What are our comfort books? Which are the books we never get tired of reading, the stories we know so well we've absorbed them into our thinking? It's been an entertaining mull-over. Not surprisingly, most of my choices are Y/A fiction, mostly because I grew up reading them; I've added a grown-up book here and there for good measure. Darren's list is just a strange mixture.

Here's a non-exhaustive but representative list from each of us:

Sara:
* A Little Princess
* Any of the Narnia books -- especially The Horse and His Boy
* Pride and Prejudice
* Seven Days to a Brand-New Me by Ellen Conford (remember reading this one, Dana?)
* A Royal Pain by Ellen Conford (Conford books are hard to find these days, but when I was a young teenager, I thought she was funniest thing I'd come across since, well, myself.)
* Any Encyclopedia Brown book
* The Golf Omnibus, a collection by P.G. Wodehouse
And a few newer candidates for Sara's list:
* Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine
* The Stravaganza series by Mary Hoffman
* The Oxford Book of Humourous Prose, by Frank Muir
* Any Brother Cadfael book

Darren:
* The Riddle Master of Hed trilogy by Patricia McKillip
* Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card
* Any Dick Francis book, especially To the Hilt and 10 Pound Penalty
* The Westing Game
* A Swiftly Tilting Planet by Madeleine L'Engle
* Starship Troopers by Robert Heinlein
* The Harley Quin stories by Agatha Christie
* The Walking Drum by Louis L'Amour
* The Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan
* Evangelical is not Enough by Thomas Howard
* The Practice of the Presence of God
* The Princess and Curdie by George MacDonald
* Beowulf translated by Seamus Heaney
A couple newer ones:
* The 1928 Book of Common Prayer
* The X-Wing series, especially the Stackpole ones
* A Little Princess

What are some of your comfort books?

P.S. Oops. Were we supposed to put "The Bible" as our first ones?

--SJ and DJ

Because I like lists

Stolen shamelessly from QoC. Bolded items are the ones I've done.

01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain - Mt. Washington, NH, in the snow. Brr!
04. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath
08. Said “I love you’ and meant it - every morning and every evening, at the minimum
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables - Dad was big on gardening when I was young. I still hate weeding.
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby’s diaper - Geni Hall taught me how when A was born; that was the first time I'd ever done it.
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon - no way; I'm terrified of heights.
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten tipsy on champagne
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope - Joe Acker showed me Halley's Comet when it came around in the 1980s.
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight - not that I can remember; I was always the prissy one trying to stop the food fight.
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight - rarely, because my throwing aim is so bad it's not worth it.
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can - many times, when watching high school volleyball matches. When I was single, I used to come home to the Hall house many nights with my voice completely shot.
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse - both lunar and solar
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment - apparently a pessimist wrote this list. This is the way I feel most of the time.
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched wild whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. Taken a road-trip - Evan and I moved his stuff across the country before he got married. That was a great time! Utah is truly beautiful.
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland - not yet
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them - when Lindsay and I were at a pub in Wales, it was full, so we sat at the table with a family. The dad was named Evan Jones.
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow - both manually and by machine.
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero - when I was in 2nd and 3rd grade, I pretended to be Catman. I followed our cat all around trying to figure out how she moved. Which is why I smile at A as she shakes herself off after a bath, one limb at a time, while commenting that she is a "little kitty."
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day - long live long Sabbaths at Fairwood!
60. *edited*
61. Gone scuba diving
62. Kissed in the rain and on a train, and in a tree. It is so fun, so fun, you see.
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business - Taliesin Campaign Consulting, when I was just out of high school.
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken - my wife is wonderful!
69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class - Tae Kwan Do rocks; I can't wait until S gets old enough to take it with me!
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days - no, 3 days has been my limit so far.
77. Made cookies from scratch - making the dough is far more fun than baking them off.
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an “expert”
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage - only comedy roles for me; I'm not a good enough actor to do drama.
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music
87. Eaten shark - it's really good, too!
88. *edited*
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship
94. Spoken more than one language fluently
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children - still working on this one.
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication - if the HSLDA Court Report counts. Although actually, my legal assistant writes most of ours, for which I am highly grateful.
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Petted a stingray
110. Broken someone’s heart
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a T.V. game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol - the rifle was the most fun.
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi - ewww, yes. I can't understand why anyone likes it, but my boss eats it like candy.
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about - although to tell the truth, I think most of the credit for this one goes to the Holy Spirit, not me.
130. Gone back to school - in seminary now, after a couple years off.
131. Parasailed
132. Petted a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad
135. Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream - many times since I've been married.
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone’s life (Besides my own?)

--DJ

What We've Learned

1. Husband really will stop and ask for directions, including on the way to the hotel on the wedding night.

2. Wife likes mowing the lawn.

3. Husband enjoys grocery shopping and cooking.

4. Wife hangs up everything slightly crooked.

5. Husband is incredibly ticklish, so a line in a romantic song about "I can feel you breathing in my ear" conjures up not-romantic visions of yelps of, "Stop it! Stop it! Aaahhh!"

6. It is possible for some Husbands and Wives to go six years without a fight.

Married six years and still as happy as newlyweds!

-- DJ and SJ

Angels

Today is the feast day of Stuart Michael's patron, St. Michael. Depending on your tradition, it's either "St. Michael and All Angels" or "Ss. Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael." This isn't a big feast of the Church, but for some reason, I've really been looking forward to it this year. I had chosen several special songs to sing last Sunday in honor of the day, and I thought I'd post them (ignoring the fact that I lost my voice halfway through the service and had to skip "Christ, the Fair Glory." Blah!)

First of all, here's what I printed in the bulletin:

The Feast day of St. Michael and All Angels is this Friday, September 29. The readings today are from this feast day. There are two errors we can make regarding angels. The first is to deny their existence and importance. According to the Bible, angels are "ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation." (Hebrew 1:14) Each of us has an angel "as protector and shepherd leading him to life," popularly known as a guardian angel. (Matt. 18:10; St. Basil)

The second error, prevalent in America today, is to worship angels, or to focus on them to the exclusion of God. This too is wrong; St. Paul rebukes those who worship angels in Colossians 2:18, and the angels in Scripture never accept worship, calling themselves "fellow servants of Christ." (Revelation 22:9) The angels named in Scripture (Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael) are God’s servants, just as we are.

Today when we confess in the Nicene Creed our belief in God as the "Creator of heaven and earth, and of all that is, seen and unseen," thank God for sending His angels to help and protect us.

The processional hymn was Stuart's favorite song right now. It's sung to the tune of "All Creatures of our God and King."

Ye watchers and ye holy ones,

1. Ye watchers and ye holy ones,
Bright seraphs, cherubim and thrones,
Raise the glad strain, Alleluia!
Cry out, dominions, princedoms, powers,
Virtues, archangels, angels’ choirs:
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Alleluia!

2. O higher than the cherubim,
More glorious than the seraphim,
Lead their praises, Alleluia!
Thou bearer of th’eternal Word,
Most gracious, magnify the Lord.

3. Respond, ye souls in endless rest,
Ye patriarchs and prophets blest,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Ye holy twelve, ye martyrs strong,
All saints triumphant, raise the song.

4. O friends, in gladness let us sing,
Supernal anthems echoing,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
To God the Father, God the Son,
And God the Spirit, Three in One.

And this is the song that I was going to sing for offertory. I think it's really cool. It was written by the same author as "Ye Watchers." If you're interested, you can listen to the tune on The Cyber Hymnal.

Christ, the fair glory of the holy angels,
Thou Who hast made us, Thou Who o’er us rulest,
Grant of Thy mercy unto us Thy servants
Steps up to Heaven.

Send Thy archangel, Michael, to our succor;
Peacemaker blessèd, may he banish from us
Striving and hatred, so that for the peaceful
All things may prosper.

Send Thy archangel, Gabriel, the mighty;
Herald of Heaven, may he from us mortals
Spurn the old serpent, watching o’er the temples
Where Thou art worshipped.

Send thy archangel, Raphael, the restorer
Of the misguided ways of men who wander,
Who at Thy bidding strengthens soul and body
With Thine anointing.

Father almighty, Son and Holy Spirit,
God ever blessèd, be Thou our Preserver;
Thine is the glory which the angels worship,
Veiling their faces.

--DJ
(Posted at 4:20 a.m. due to a baby who decided that sleeping wasn't really her thing tonight)

Just Wondering

A forwarded "warning" on an e-group recently included the following burst of indignation:

"... I will also add that my own sons were playing in the ball pit at Chuckee Cheese one day. One son lost his watch, and was very upset. We dug and dug in those balls, trying to find the watch. Instead, we found vomit, food, feces, and other stuff I do not want to discuss. ..."

So what "other stuff" would you not want to discuss? Body parts?

(Everyone who has email should be required to read and refer to Snopes.com before learning to use the "Foward" button.)

-- SJ

The Exorcism of Pearl

Growing up, it was my sister who liked things just-so and in order, while I was slapdash. Rosemary liked plaid because it was neat and orderly. I liked random floral prints. She liked her clothes to coordinate, and always wore colored socks to match. I wore denim because it "coordinated" with anything, and sometimes my socks didn't even match each other.

Then we got married, began cooking, and blew our tidy character sketches to pieces. I have to have a recipe to make a dish turn out well, while Rosemary can throw together the most unlikely ingredients and come up with a good meal. Evidently the same abberation holds true where child-training advice is concerned. I see it as a recipe to be followed, inflexibly, while Rosemary just takes this and that and doesn't seem to mind what she leaves behind. All this to illustrate why she enjoys the magazing No Greater Joy, and I can't get near the writings of Michael and Debi Pearl without breaking into a cold sweat.

The Pearls, for the uninitiated, are self-appointed child-training experts somewhere in Amish country in the midwest. Their approach is that of constant and rather strict (but not necessarily harsh) training, teaching your children to obey you exactly and immediately. You shouldn't have to raise your voice, you shouldn't have to repeat yourself, and you shouldn't have to explain yourself. You give the command, the child obeys, and the world goes 'round happily.

Furthermore, they insist their philosophy is taken straight from Scripture, so it's really the only Right way to do it. If you parent differently, you run the risk of not purging your children's consciences of the guilt of wrongdoing, and teaching them a wrong view of God. No pressure, though.

I realized, as I began this post, that I don't have any actual Pearl writings to refer to. I threw them away a long time ago. They were too oppressive, too demoralizing: I finally had to get rid of them entirely. So I went to their website, www.nogreaterjoy.org, to pull out a few excerpts to back up my complaints. After half an hour on the site, I wiped my clammy hands on my pants and surfed away. I did find two links for those interested in reading the Pearl's actual words; links are below.

The problem with the Pearl methodology... my problem, anyway... is that I don't parent like they do. I shout, for one thing. My kids aren't going to grow up saying with awe, "My mother never raised her voice, but guided us with gentle firmness." Heck, no. When Daphne was a week old, Addie and Stuart came tumbling through the living room and nearly fell on her bouncy seat. They didn't hear my first warning, so I shouted my second one. They cheerfully tumbled away. The baby, meanwhile, never flinched at the sound of my voice. She'd heard it before. Secondly, I'd rather err on the side of leniency. I'll deal with a child who -- for a random example -- flies down the hallway wailing, "My life is RUINED!" if that same child feels free to object when I issue a mistaken command: "But you said I could go outside after lunch." (And yes, we are already praying for grace for when Addie hits thirteen.)

It's not that their method is such a bad idea: setting aside times for training so a child knows what is expected of him. Instead of spanking, Darren has been "practicing" with Addie so that she will walk quietly down the hallway when sent to her room. It's worked well, although she still crawls as if it's taking the last ounce of her strength to get to her room. They emphasize that parents need to connect with the child's heart, not just insist on outward obedience. But according to the Pearls, I have to train like they do or my children will be self-willed, bratty, disruptive, and ultimately rebellious toward us and toward God.

The major area where I part ways with the Pearls is that I believe the Holy Spirit can work in the heart of a child who is too young to have "made a decision" for Christ. It's up to Darren and me and the Church (the Pearls don't think much of the Church) to teach them to recognize and respond to God. But as a poem posted above my computer reminds me, "I am not their hope, their joy, and their salvation." It's not my place to change their hearts, convict them of sin, and evoke repentance. The Pearls seem to put parents in the Holy Spirit's place for a child's early years, and it's far too heavy a burden for parents to bear. (Here I'm being a little unfair because I don't have any actual remarks of theirs to refer to; you'll have to read their material yourself, especially "To Train Up a Child," to get this flavor.)

As you can imagine, this sort of child-training advice works badly on the spirit of someone who reads it like a recipe. Others read it the same way, a futhermore believe the Pearls' obvious opinion that they know best. The Pearls are asked for, and dispense advice on, everything from birth control to diagnoses of autism. I look at the list of questions and ask, "Can't any of you figure this out for yourself? Must you know what the Pearls think before you decide yourself?" But they state their answers so confidently, and are so supremely disdainful of dissent, that I question myself and my parenting. Are my children really terrible and I don't realize it? Will they really turn out to be delinquents after all? Am I really a submissive wife, or is my equal status with Darren going to sow dishonor and grief in our children?

My sister doesn't seem to have these doubts when she reads Pearl, and her children are happy and obedient. However, since I don't have the force of personality to laugh off my concerns, I instead throw all the material away. I've also forsaken most parenting books entirely, and instead depend on advice from experienced mothers around me. The ghost of Pearl is fading as I see my children grow into little people I enjoy being with, as I grow to enjoy my motherhood, and as Darren and I enjoy our marriage more every year.

And even if I do shout sometimes, at least I laugh a lot now.

-- SJ

The softer side of the Pearls. If your child is not happy and relaxed, you're not training properly.

Question: Spanking a 7-month-old? This article includes some Pearlosophy that drives me mad.

The Exorcism of Ezzo

When I was pregnant with Addie, a well-meaning mom of six gave me "On Being Babywise" by Gary Ezzo. (You can always tell the writer's opinion of a gift when the giver is described as "well-meaning.") I'd heard of Ezzo, of course. He fit in well with my conditioned-to-obey background, and the mom praised him enthusiastically as her sanity-saver when she had her last three children. I read the book, and certainly agreed with his points. And since my child pretty much had to be a model of well-trained offspring, I assumed his method was good, too.

I had no idea that, with his method, came his ghost to haunt me.

I don't like to remember Addie's early months, seeing as they were a jumble of bewilderment, guilt, and a pride that didn't let me ask anyone for advice. But over all that time, the ghost of Ezzo hovered and wailed dire warnings and doom whenever I deviated from his philosophy. I honestly felt guilty for holding my child whenever I wanted to, and especially for picking her up when she was "crying herself to sleep." We won't even discuss feedings, and how inadequate I felt because I didn't try hard enough to put Addie on a schedule.

When Stuart arrived, I'd grown up a little bit. Despite the awful possibility that I would spoil my baby and wreck his sleep habits (and therefore our comfortable life) for years to come, I decided I'd pick him up and put him down whenever I felt like it. I should have been a much happier mother, but the ghost of Ezzo had followed me into my second round and was howling worse than ever. My only triumph was in the feeding arena. Stuart set his own schedule, and I even nursed him after his naps to help him wake up happily. He slept well and plumped out into one of the fattest babies in history. True, he was eight or nine months old before he cut out a night feeding, but we took care of that when we got tired of it, not when the ghost of Ezzo said we should. Ezzo could manage only a faint whimper of "just wait and see what he's like when he's two."

At ages one and two; two and three; three and four; four and five... Addie and Stuart are beautiful sleepers. That's when I realized that Ezzo doesn't know our children, and that a child's habits have a lot to do with who he is, not which method his parents use on him.

When Daphne was born, the ghost of Ezzo hardly had the heart to moan. I can't keep track of when she's "supposed" to eat, so I feed her when she says she's hungry. Sometimes she gives false information, but she finds comfort in feeding, so I don't consider it wasted effort. After we brought her home from the Lampe wedding, she was so jangled that she refused any arms except Mama's. I had to sleep with her all night, acting basically as a big pacifier. Ezzo whimpered, but Daphne and I slept well. We put her in her cradle at night, but if she cries, we pick her up. Sometimes if she's sleeping soundly, we still pick her up, because she's so marvelously cute. I have never enjoyed the new-baby stage like I have this time.

One night, Darren and I sat on our bed and chatted while Daphne, on a pillow in front of us, tossed her head around with her mouth open, confident that food was going to happen into it any moment. We waited until she got hungry enough to squawk, and then I picked her up. At the same time, I happened to glance at the clock.

"Oh, look," I said. "Exactly three hours this time."

And then we realized that we'd been watching the baby, not the clock. I think that was the moment that the ghost of Ezzo gave its final wail and dissipated. I haven't heard much from him since.

-- SJ

P.S. Some other time: The Exorcism of Pearl

Christian Unity

John 17:22-23
I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.

Ephesians 4:1-6
I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit--just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call-- one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

Ut Unum Sint (That They All May Be One), Pope John Paul the Great
Love gives rise to the desire for unity, even in those who have never been aware of the need for it. Love builds communion between individuals and between Communities. If we love one another, we strive to deepen our communion and make it perfect. Love is given to God as the perfect source of communion—the unity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit—that we may draw from that source the strength to build communion between individuals and Communities, or to re-establish it between Christians still divided. Love is the great undercurrent which gives life and adds vigour to the movement towards unity.

For the Unity of the Church, Book of Common Prayer (1979)
O God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, our only Savior,
the Prince of Peace: Give us grace seriously to lay to heart the
great dangers we are in by our unhappy divisions; take away
all hatred and prejudice, and whatever else may hinder us
from godly union and concord; that, as there is but one Body
and one Spirit, one hope of our calling, one Lord, one Faith,
one Baptism, one God and Father of us all, so we may be all
of one heart and of one soul, united in one holy bond of truth
and peace, of faith and charity, and may with one mind and
one mouth glorify thee; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

For the Church, Book of Common Prayer (1979)
Gracious Father, we pray for thy holy Catholic Church. Fill it
with all truth, in all truth with all peace. Where it is corrupt,
purify it; where it is in error, direct it; where in any thing it is
amiss, reform it. Where it is right, strengthen it; where it is in
want, provide for it; where it is divided, reunite it; for the sake
of Jesus Christ thy Son our Savior. Amen.

--DJ

Everybody Loves Raymond (if they've ever heard of him)

I have a “Dictionary of Saints” that I often use to put little blurbs in the church bulletin about feast days in the coming week. Last night, I was looking through it, and came across this entry:

"Blessed Raymond Lull, 1232-1316
Son of one of the military leaders who reconquered Majorca from the Muslims, he was born at Palma, Majorca, entered the service of King James I of Aragon, and in 1257 married Blanca Picany. Despite his marriage and two children, he led a dissolute life, but changed his lifestyle in 1263 when he had a vision of Christ while writing to a woman with whom he was having an affair, followed by five more visions. After two pilgrimages, he became a Franciscan tertiary, provided for his family, gave the rest of his wealth to the poor, and determined to devote the rest of his life to converting the Muslims. He spent the next nine years learning all he could of Muslim philosophy, religion, and culture, and learning Arabic. He founded a short-live missionary college in Majorca and went to Paris in 1286. After a serious illness, he went to Tunis in 1292, began preaching, but was almost immediately forcibly deported by the Moors. Appeals to Popes Boniface VIII and Clement V for aid in his mission were fruitless. After lecturing at Paris on Arabic metaphysics for a time, he was successful in getting to Barbary in 1306 but was again imprisoned and deported. He returned to Barbary in 1315. This time he was stoned and left for dead, but was rescued by Genoese sailors and died on board ship. He wrote more than 300 treatises (many in Arabic) on philosophy, music, navigation, law, astronomy, mathematics, and theology. He also wrote mystical poetry of the highest order and is considered the forerunner of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross. His feast day is June 30."

Besides the fact that it’s just a very interesting life, I was struck by several things. He provided for his family before giving away all his wealth, which seems very sensible and Biblical to me. He spent years preparing for the mission field, and didn’t get there until he was 60 years old. Even then, he never got to stay very long. It made me wonder if he considered his life much of a success. It seemed like a very good example of the saying, “God does not require us to be successful, only that we be faithful.”

--DJ

Of Weddings

You know how you worry and fret over something, and then after it's all over with you look back and think, "Now why did I make such a big deal out of that?"

Well, I attended Dana's wedding last weekend, and I have to say, looking back... It was just as big a deal as I made it out to be and I'd probably fret just as much if I did it over again.

One day maybe Dana will get her own blog and post about her own life. Until then, I'll put down on record that she had a lovely wedding. It was liturgical -- the Anglican service, I believe; anyone who has seen A&E's Pride & Prejudice would recognize parts of it -- which means that there were wedding parts with a church service and communion sandwiched in between. It almost made me want to do my wedding over again (six years ago I had no notion of a traditional, set wedding service, although as it turns out Darren and I used those very wedding vows). Darren said we could do "something liturgical" for our tenth anniversary. Dana made a beautiful bride, Brooks was a dashing groom, and I made faces at them as they walked back down the aisle. I figured that if I couldn't be in the wedding itself, I could at least make sure Dana remembered I was there.

Of course I didn't get pictures. Who do you think I am?

Daphne attended as well, and conducted herself like a little lady. We left the two older kids home with Mam (my mother). Evidently Addie didn't care that Daddy and Mama left; but sometime after we were gone, Mom noticed Addie wandering around the house in search of something. All at once, Addie burst into tears and wailed, "I can't find Daphne anywhere!" When we got home, the first person Addie greeted was the baby.

***

I was reproached for not posting about another recent wedding, so for anyone who keeps up with my family via my blog, my older sister Lauren was married to Carroll Van Nort in a private (i.e. family) ceremony in July. I wasn't able to go, as I was great with child at the time, but from all reports, the ceremony was simple and pretty. I have every assurance that I'll see pictures someday.

-- SJ

More Pictures

(Scintillating headline composed by Darren. When I was in labor with Addie, Darren sent off an email to his family to let them know. He entitled it "Prayer request.")

Thanks to a visit from Rose F, who obligingly had her camera with her; and thanks to Leah G, who obligingly took some excellent pictures, we now have a few more Daphne Photos to delight the world (or the small portion of it that reads our blog, anyway).


Nobody can look quite so blank as a newborn, but as objectively as I try to look at her, she still looks beautiful.


Maybe it's just because she is beautiful...


And here are two old friends, busy populating the world with beautiful children.

-- SJ (and RF and LG)

Names of Note

Thoughtfully collected by my sister at a recent young-mom's meeting.

All boys:
Ryder
Easton
Hayes
Memphis

And a girl:
Charleston

-- SJ

Pictures

Thanks to our friends the Shaws, who gave us a camera to take to the hospital, and to Todd, the HLSDA graphic artist with a scanner, we have pictures!

--DJ



The new addition by herself



Mama and Baby Daphne



Daddy and Baby Daphne



The siblings greet their new little sister



A proud big brother



Mam and the newest grandchild

Upon My Return

Note: To quiet fears of a blog post with "far more detail," I won't post anything providing too much information for those uninterested in the birthing process.

I got home Tuesday morning, glad to get back to my house and my life. Not only did I return home with a brand-new daughter, I also came back from the experience with the assurance that God really can handle things without my advice and assistance.

As anyone who talked any length of time with me knows, I had decided (based on how long I thought I was pregnant and on sheer convenience) that this weekend was the ideal time to have Baby. I reminded God of this fact many, many times. I tried to believe He was paying attention, even though the weekend was running out, Baby was still breech, and there were absolutely no indications that labor was imminent.

It was 5:00 Sunday morning before God put things into action, and from then on everything ran as smooth as oil. Our neighbors were able to take Addie and Stuart; Nina actually stayed here until the kids woke up. We took a calm ride to the hospital, since by this time I was peaceful with the idea of a c-section. I got in, confirmed Baby was breech, and was prepped for a c-section without ever actually suffering labor pains. (Because of her position, Daphne could have been delivered -- not an option for me, of course -- but was not very turnable. I'm grateful the doctor didn't try.)

Darren left an apologetic message for Father Tim: "Obviously I won't be at church today. You don't have the bulletins, music, music leader, or lector. Sorry for the short notice." Father Tim claimed he had serious questions about the new deacon's dedication to church, but he himself was so anxious to get to the hospital for news that he curtailed the already simplified service.

The surgery went very well, and in contrast to my experience with Stuart's birth (twelve hours of labor then surgery), was simply a breeze. They wrapped up Daphne and gave her to Darren, and together we admired our red, wrinkled newborn beauty. While I was in recovery, Darren called the kids, who were quite ecstatic to hear of their new sister. It was almost as exciting as the fact that they got to go to church with Mollie.

Mom started up by train the very next day. Darren missed only two days of work, back in the office in time to file an important brief. I'm sore and halting of step, but I will be at Dana's wedding in about a week. And Daphne Michele is a beautiful little bundle and the entire Jones household is delighted to welcome her home.

Thank you all for your prayers. God really does pay attention.

-- SJ

We Have an Announcement

Darren and Sara Jones announce the birth of their third child and second daughter, Daphne Michele Jones.

Daphne was born on Sunday at 9:12 by C-section. She weighed in at 6 lbs. 12 oz., 19 3/4 inches long. Both she and Sara are doing great. Daphne has lots of beautiful black hair and, according to Sara (who is much better than I at figuring these things out), she looks like big sister Addie.

Sara will have a longer post when she gets home, hopefully Tuesday, that will go into far more detail.

We're excited! Pictures will follow.

--DJ

Read Her Like a Book?

There are many good reasons for parents to keep their name choices a secret until the baby is born. But I think it always advisable to test out your ideas on one or two trusted sources first. Otherwise, as announced in my hometown paper last week, your child ends up with a name like Madison Paige Turner.

-- SJ

Like Father, Like Daughter; Like Mother, Like Son

Yesterday, Darren agreed to play Age of Mythology with Stuart. He noticed that Addie, however, was absent. He tracked her down in her room, where she was stretched out on the bed looking at a book.

"Do you want to come out and play with us, Addie?"

"I think I'll just stay here and read."

***

Stuart: "When I'm a grown-up, I will marry Mollie."
Me: "Okay."
Stuart: "We will have little children. What will their names be?"
Me: "I have no idea."
Stuart: "Maybe Morgan. Or Kelsey. Or Sarah. Or if it's a boy it can be Daniel or John. Maybe that's what we will name them."

***

-- SJ

Think Flipping Thoughts

Three weeks out from my official due date, Baby has revealed itself to be breech. (For those not fluent in pregnancy language, that means that Baby is positioned head-up, instead of head-down, which makes birth difficult and risky.) It's possible I could go into labor anytime now, and if I do so with a breech presentation, I will have to have another C-section. I don't want another section. But Baby still has room to move, so there's still a possibility it can flip into the right position. So if you wouldn't mind saying a prayer when you think of us, that would be appreciated.

-- SJ

What's In a Name?

I still get my hometown newspaper, the one I scoffed at for years until I started working there, at which point I developed a fierce loyalty to it. There just aren't many authentic small-town papers anymore -- the ones that bump city council articles from the front page to make room for high school football, the ones which don't mention national events at all.

Two weeks ago, the front-page article was about a participant in this year's Junior Miss pageant. What is Junior Miss? Heavens, if you don't know that, you might as well just put the GCT aside and go back to your global-crisis newspaper. Reading the Junior Miss article, Darren was introduced to a name that I haven't heard outside the confines of George County: "Dailee." It's pronounced with that peculiar Southern twist that gives the second syllable a slight advantage over the first, while still emphasizing both: day-lee. (Same for the pronounciation of "acci-dent," or "presi-dent." It's a twist that I, sadly, have lost now.) In last week's issue, I discovered that Dailee's middle name is ReJoyce.

The thing about the name Dailee ReJoyce is that when I repeated it to Darren, it suddenly struck me that the sum is greater than the parts. Say it aloud: it transforms from merely a sentimental name to a good Southern sermon in two words.

I'm not saying we're planning to name our next child in the same fashion. But possibly there are some things I miss about living farther South.

-- SJ

Two Nice Things

Nice Thing #1: My friend Nina and I took the kids bowling last week because they got one game and a hotdog free. While we were there, Nina's one-year-old son, Evan, charmed the lady one lane over. (I've put in a request for Baby to be the same model as Evan.) We struck up a conversation, and the lady asked if Baby was my first. "Oh, no," I replied. "My third."

"Well, God love you!" she exclaimed (which I suspect is a Southern exclamation; it means, "Oh, wow.") I smiled thinly. She then added, "I wish I'd had more than one. I envy you!"

A third child hardly ever evokes envy among the general public. It was such a refreshing surprise that I glowed about it all day.

Nice Thing #2: The next evening, the Joneses walked across the street to the Shaws' to help celebrate Evan's first birthday. We were waiting for "Evan" to open his gifts (older sister Mollie actually did most of the honors, including our gift of paper cups), but instead Nina and Dana piled baby gifts in front of me and announced, "This isn't big enough to be a shower, so we're just calling it a 'sprinkle.'" I got some of their unneeded baby stuff, but Nina also made the kids "I'm a big sister/brother" t-shirts and bought a small camera for us so we wouldn't have to use a disposable for Baby's arrival.

Nice things make the world a brighter place.

-- SJ

Blog Update from Darren

I haven’t updated my blog list to the left in far too long, but today I’m going to try.

I’m deleting the following:
Ben Domenech – unfortunately, doesn’t update very often.
Ignatius Insight – I just got bored with it.
That They May Be One – ditto.
The Onion Dome – didn’t update frequently enough.
Ancient and Future Catholics – wasn’t as interesting since the authors converted to Roman Catholicism.
Church of the Masses – decided there were others that were more interesting.
The View from the Foothills – ditto.

I’m keeping the rest, including Dawn Eden’s blog, which is still one of my favorites. However, I have to change my original description “If you’re a Catholic, you may not like Dawn Eden.” A lousy job of prognosticating there; Dawn joined the Catholic Church this Easter.

I'm adding one. My brother Evan, a pastor in New Hampshire, has just started his own blog. Hurray!

--DJ

Happy Birthday to Mom!

(This is posted a day late. Sorry about that!)

My mom is a wonderful lady who has taken hard experiences in her life and used them to bring help to others.

My mom is a wonderful Christian who is utterly faithful in making time to meet with God every day.

My mom constantly displays what a Godly lion/organizer/choleric is all about.

As a child and now as an adult, Mom has supported me 110% in all of my endeavors, even the ones she doesn't understand why I'm doing it.

I love my mother, and I thank God for her! Happy Birthday!

--DJ

A Request for Good Songs

In the church we used to attend, Jim and Mary Ellen Marshall were pillars. Both of them were servants through and through. They had children older than ours who are bidding fair to follow in their parents' footsteps, so when they gave us child-rearing advice, we listened avidly. Mary Ellen passed away a few months ago after a bout with cancer.

One of the pieces of advice Jim gave was to teach our children good hymns. In the last few months, I've tried to implement this; we usually practice singing them in our evening devotions. So far, we've learned "O, Worship the King" (one of my favorites) and "Holy, Holy, Holy" (Sara's favorite hymn). I've also taught them the Te Deum (the first half, in English. Latin will come later. :))

Stuart loves songs about angels, especially ones that mention cherubim and seraphim. I've sung Ye Watchers and Ye Holy Ones for him a few times, and he likes that.

So we've got these few pretty well down. What are your suggestions for hymns that people should know? I'd be interested.

--DJ

We Will Justify

Today I surprised Darren, who was deciding on the processional and recessional for church, by singing "We will justify the food we eat!" I'd forgotten I'd never shared with him the inspiring lyrics I wrote for my fellow interns during my HSLDA days. Do you remember those days, Danielle? -- we were a household of five females, so discussions of food, calories, and what to eat next were continuous. The following ditty is sung to the tune of "We Will Glorify" ("We will glorify the King of King, we will glorify the Lamb...")

We will justify the food we eat,
We will say it's not so bad.
When we eat a bag of marshmallows,
We will say that's all we had.

Smaller portions haven't many calories,
And the pretzels are fat-free.
There's the matter of the ice cream,
But it's Breyer's, naturally.

There's at least one more verse, but I can't remember it right now. At any rate, I still think it's pretty funny (imagine me thinking my own work is clever!), and it brings back good memories. I think I'll go get something to eat.

-- SJ

Bride and Prejudice

Peter and Kelly S recently lent us their copy of "Bride & Prejudice," with the stipulation that one of us blog about it after watching it. So now they know how long it takes us to watch a movie: we saw it in three installments (usually with a pile of laundry between the two of us), and had to turn it off by 9:30 pm every time because otherwise I'd dream about it too much and not sleep well. (We have a stricter movie policy and curfew now than we ever did as teenagers.) We did push the 9:30 rule for the last installment, when the movie was nearly done and I saw Darren go for the remote. I graciously requested, "Don't you dare stop it!"

As the title suggests, the storyline is based on Pride & Prejudice. But this movie is Indian, put out by the same director who did "Bend It Like Beckham." (D & I immensely enjoyed Bend It Like Beckham, which is also one of the few movies that I and my sister-in-law Lindsay both like.) In B&P, the Lizzie character is Indian, and the Darcy character is American, which throws in immediate "prejudice" without even having to try. The movie follows the basic storyline, complete with the Bingleys, Wickham, Lydia, Charlotte, and Mr. Collins characters. Good thing, too, because -- I hate to admit this -- the Indian actors all look alike. Once we got people straightened out, we could follow the action without much trouble, and sat back to enjoy it (at least until 9:30).

But this movie isn't Hollywood; it's Bollywood. Evidently it's normal for Indian movies to feature elaborate song-and-dance numbers right in the middle of the show, just like an 50s American musical. No American movie could pull this off anymore, but the Indian approach is unabashedly sentimental. It got pretty funny after a while. Still, we watched the musical performances through, because the colors were so dazzling. Another Bollywood convention is No Kissing. The hottest they get are a few passionate hugs. I liked it during the middle of the movie, because it kept things very understated and (gratifying to my conservative tastes) chaste. But I confess I really missed the Kiss At The End.

I can't really give an opinion of how the movie is as its own movie. I don't know how believable the characters were or how well the director handled the plot: I know the story much too well. So other aspects caught my attention. Just as when we watched "Beckham," I was struck (and so Darren was informed several times) how easily the Indian family structure translates into homeschooler terms. Strong family identity, strong parental authority, and the children -- especially daughters -- trying to balance their own desires with their parents' wishes. Where most mainstream audiences would find the family hierarchy a little exotic and rather oppressive, Darren and I understood much of the conflict, and were satisfied with the resolution.

Pause.

"How's the post coming?" Darren just asked.

"Fine. I'm trying to figure out how to end it."

"How about, 'This is the end.'"

But it can't be, yet, because I haven't mentioned the one aching regret this movie brought to the surface yet again: Why hasn't Indian fashion ever caught on over here? Do you realize how classy and beautiful the traditional Indian sari is? When America finally gets the idea, I'll be in the first wave to get mine, each in a different vibrant color.

And now, this is the end.

-- SJ