Kathy Romer's Not Often Updated Blog

Miscellaneous Musings on my Little Ones

2008-01-07T07:18:00.001-06:00

I haven't had much sitting down time for writing stuff, but really quickly (I hope) I have a moment and wanted to relate some things.

First, my smart, smart little daughter (who is five years old now) and I were playing a little computer game the other day. In it, the main character (PuttPutt, if the name means anything for you) loses several items through a time portal, and is told by his wacky scientist friend (who created the time portal) that the time portal cannot be closed until all items have been returned to their present time.

After a series of age-appropriate obstacles, PuttPutt is able to retrieve all of his items, returns to his own time, and the time portal is closed for good. However, in the course of his travels, PuttPutt acquires an oil can from the Old West that he used for various things. The oil can travels with him to the present, even unto the closing of the portal; and Joanna had the presence of mind to ask why the oil can did not need to be returned to *its* time as well. Personally, I had never given it any thought -the emphasis of the game, after all, was to return the four *original* items lost, and not any that had been acquired along the way. But her question was valid, and I told her so. What a smart girl!

On another matter, little Michael (coming up on twenty months old) is becoming a gadget junkie. We went to New Year's Eve party at a friend's house (which was a beautiful home, by the way!), and Michael was getting into all of the electronic gear he could find. First, we got him away from the upstairs computer, then from the downstairs computer, and then from the phone. But when he walked out of the bathroom holding their bathroom scale - with digital display - I just shook my head and laughed!!

I keep getting the sensation that there was something else that I was going to write, but nothing else is actually bubbling to the surface , so I suppose it will wait for another time. Bye!

Just DO It!!!

2007-11-26T00:00:00.000-06:00

Here I am, FINALLY updating my blog again. Think of this as a "Truth in Advertising" testimony (it does, after all, tell you "NOToftenupdated" right there in the title...).

Not that I have anything of earth-shaking importance to say right now. Over the past ten months or so, I have thought about adding a blog entry now and then; and then I would think, "This isn't really important enough to break the silence, is it? I haven't even written about the move or the new house or anything like that." And another potential blog would burn out upon entry into the blogosphere.

So, time passed. And it seemed as if entries would need to be even more spectacular and amazing to merit publication... Well, I finally realized that nothing would ever be as grandiose as it "needed" to be. The only thing for it was to jump in and let the first shock reverberate as it will.

So here it is. Wah-hoo. A new entry. A fresh start. Another day.

Have you noticed how there seem to be two camps of bloggers? There are those who write (and write and write and write...) all their own material, and then there are those who want to send you to some link or other. I'm not saying anything about either one; just making an observation. And of course, there is the rare breed who does both....

I'm a hum-drum writer type, for the most part. I thought momentarily about being a linker, but then I thought about all the trouble it would be to go through all the other stuff out there to find just the right one to link to, the one that expresses just who I am at that moment. I'd rather write; it seems easier to me.

Okay, I have broken the silence, but it's late and I don't want to write too long because I'm tired (I get that way when it gets late; has that ever happened to you? I also get goofy - oh, wait, no.... that's just me anyway).... Hopefully, this will begin a new era in "Kathy blogging." Zippity-doo-dah!!! Good night.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2007-02-18T20:03:00.000-06:00

This morning I was not feeling well. I had gone to Mass last night to cantor, so I stayed home; and since Mark was singing in the choir, he left the children at home. We figured that the kids could watch the EWTN Mass and that would be roughly the same experience for them as attending in a church (from the vocal standpoint, anyway).

In a way, it was a little better from a “teaching moment” perspective, because I was able to talk to the children about the consecration and how the priest acts “in persona Christi.” I was in the process of telling them that when the priest says “This is My Body,” he is speaking for Christ; that the bread doesn’t become Fr. Martell’s body or Fr. Gabe’s body, but Jesus’ Body. The priest is speaking the words of Jesus, who is always the same, so that when His words are said, they make Him present. And they seemed to be getting it…

I was telling them all this as the first part of the Eucharistic prayer was being said, and then came the Moment: the priest got as far as “This is My…” AND THE CABLE COMPANY CUT THE PROGRAM FOR ANOTHER SHOW!!!!!!!!!

I was totally shocked and horrified beyond words!! I realize that the people in Birmingham who were actually attending the “real” Mass were not cut off in this rude manner, but *we* were! I turned off the television and just sat there for a moment; and then I started crying (I have three children – I cry at everything nowadays, I can’t help it). I said, “Poor Jesus!” in what I thought was a very low tone; but Paul and Joanna heard me, and asked me why I said that.

I told them that it was such a shame that here Jesus is, trying so hard to reach us – making us out of nothing; holding us in existence moment by moment; dying to save us; and all He asks of us is to once in a while tell Him “thank You” (OK, maybe that’s not *all,* but I was in the moment). And what do some people do? Cut Him out of their lives at the very moment of His greatest gift to the world, His Real Presence in the Eucharist!!

The children sat for a minute in silence, and then Paul suggested, “Well, we could still think about Jesus and the Mass, couldn’t we?” I told him that would be a great idea. Joanna chimed in, “Let’s try it right now!” And both of them closed their eyes and began to imagine the Mass. Paul said, “I see the pews!” And Joanna said, “Mommy, there’s Jesus!! There’s Jesus!!”

It was such a beautiful moment, and I am writing it down so that I will be able to read it again and remember it someday when I am feeling low. But since I feel weird writing things down like this if I am not sharing them with someone, I thought I would share it with you, too. Have a wonderful day!

It's Good To Be Homeless!

2007-01-14T01:39:00.000-06:00

We did it!!!!

We are officially moved out of our old house and staying with my husband's parents while we look for another home. Whew!

Thank you, Lord!!! :^)

What Lifts Us Up

2006-11-22T21:12:00.000-06:00

This accounting is actually about two different dreams from the same night. I even feel that I was given to understand their meaning, so I consider them especially important.

In the first dream, I was at a house with my extended family for some happy gathering, and – this is where dream special effects comes in so handy – even though the windows were closed, a wind started blowing through the house. Riding on the wind were several thousand balloons, each about two feet in diameter, and several thousand birds, about the size of pigeons. They arrived in sets, e.g., two hundred blue balloons followed by two hundred blue birds; then two hundred red balloons followed by two hundred red birds; 200 green balloons, 200 green birds; etc. They were all moving remarkably fast, and it was a testament to dream technology that none of the balloons popped in the little house, even though they were flying through the walls and lamps and couches. None of them flew through people, however. We were trying to catch the balloons, naturally (who wouldn’t want a big shiny balloon?) while trying to stay out of “poop range” of all those birds (not that any of the birds did anything, but how were we to know the capabilities of birds who could fly through walls?).

I don’t remember who it was, but someone standing near me caught one of the balloons; but not me. After all the balloons and birds had gone, which only took about a minute’s time, we all began to hear this strange sound: sort of like a warning siren, only higher pitched and all over the place all at once. Other than the fact that it sounded irritating and a little eerie, it didn’t bother me. But other people around me (NOT the one with the balloon, though) all faced the same direction and stood at attention while the sound was going on. Once it stopped, they stood still for another moment, and then they all turned toward the person with the balloon, and the few of us standing nearby who also did not seem to be affected. Everyone’s eyes now glowed with a red fire, and they began to come toward us. I “knew” in that way of dreams that we were going to be eaten alive – literally – by these creatures who until recently had been the people that I loved.

Fortunately, my brain decided that this was not where it wanted to be, and woke me up. Or perhaps it was the baby crying – it’s hard to say. In any event, the baby was crying when I awoke; Mark had already gone back to see which part of the baby might need attention, so I got his bottle ready just in case. That turned out to be the problem, so I spent several minutes holding the baby and propping up his bottle for him.

After he had finished and was sleepily ensconced in his crib once again, I returned to my bed and fell asleep again. At first, I didn’t think the second dream had anything to do with the other one because I was watching my older son play in a sporting event (it was either football or soccer, but for the life of me now I cannot recall which – it may have even switched back and forth in the dream or been some wacky combination of the two).

At the halftime, the wind began to blow and over the horizon came these thousands of balloons and birds again, in the same pattern as before. We thought that it was just a halftime show at first – albeit a rather spectacular one, especially for an elementary school game. The balloons came from a different direction each time the colors changed, sometimes even having one color beginning before the other had ended. Being the perpetual engineer, even in my sleep, I was wondering how they were able to get the wind to do that without the slightest hint of turbulence. Then I started to get a vague feeling that I had seen this balloon stunt in another dream (I realized that I was dreaming, but at the same time everything in the dream seemed “real”), although I did not remember what happened afterward at this point.

There was a playground near the playing field, with a free-standing slide – one of the neat tall ones. A friend and I had the idea to run to the top of the slide and catch a few balloons as we slid down. I caught two as I went down, but my friend didn’t catch any. There was also a reporter near me, and her photographer, who wanted to get a picture of me with the two balloons for the local paper to report the phenomenon. Just as I turned to give my second balloon to my friend, that strange sound began in this dream as well, and everyone (except for me, my friend, the reporter, and the photographer) turned in the same direction and stood at attention again.

For some reason that I no longer recall, my friend ran over to a trashcan to look for something she had lost, and by the time I got over to her, the balloon that I was going to give her had withered. The sound had stopped, and everyone turned to look at us. I tried to get my friend and the other two to run away with me, and thought they were behind me. I ran over to the slide again, and went up to the top. But when I looked back, some of the newly demonized people were converging on my friend and the other two, while another mob was heading toward me.

The wind began to pick up again, and it finally occurred to me that these balloons represented the gift of faith. Several other conclusions were also brought to my mind:
- Each person has to have his or her own portion of faith. Being around someone who has faith may protect you for a short time, but it will not save you in the end.
- Each person has to reach out for his or her faith while the “wind” of the Spirit is blowing. Once it stops I can’t give my faith to someone else by myself – it is for the Holy Spirit to give, not me.
- Each person has to hold on tightly to his or her faith. If I let go at any time, I will be dead – or worse.

As the people-things began climbing up the slide where I had conveniently trapped myself (duhr!), I “knew” that God wanted me to rely on my faith and let Him take over. I closed my eyes and jumped so that the wind could carry me, not really knowing (or even believing) whether it would. I don’t know where I went, but I knew that I was out of danger. I had a vision of several places in a fast-sequence sort of thing; places where I was taken by my faith, to be sheltered for a time before moving on to another spot.

I was allowed to wake up at that point, before finding out what happened to the rest of the poor world (I never found out what the birds were all about either, unless they were just another manifestation of the Holy Spirit). But it was clear to me that now I must tell all those I love – all those I can – PLEASE reach out for your faith while the wind is still blowing. God sends *so* many opportunities to find Him, in ways that are easy for us to grasp. Look for Him; He is waiting for you.

Realty Bites

2006-11-09T21:53:00.000-06:00

Wow. I guess I really should update the site more often… it wouldn't take so long. Here is the latest house saga, Act III.

A buyer (Annie) tendered a contract on our house (the third contract on our house) at the beginning of October, with a closing date of October 31st. Things looked very positive: she had a checking account (pronounced “verifiable income”) and there were supposedly not one but two lenders willing to give her a loan.

On or around the middle of the month, our realtor (Kathy) got a call from the buyer’s realtor (Robert) asking if the closing date could be moved up to the 23rd. Great, we said, go for it! Well, the 23rd came and went – with no closing. The mortgage broker (Jay, from a company in Texas), with whom Robert and Annie had been dealing, said that the closing needed to be pushed back a day or two. Then we found out that the appraisal, which we had been told was not an issue for the loan, became a problem, because the contract price was $1750 over the appraisal price. We agreed to reset the price of the house to match the appraisal price, and thought that took care of the problem.

The “day or two” stretched out to become “back to the original date” of the 31st. The 31st came and went – with no closing. We found out that Annie was told on the 27th that she needed to have a certain amount of funds in her checking account for a certain number of consecutive days (7). She deposited the funds into her account that day, beginning the seven-day period. I found that particularly galling – they knew before the weekend that there was no way to close on the 31st, but didn’t bother to tell us about it until the supposed closing day.

Now the NEW closing date was going to be Monday the 6th of November. In the meantime, Jay admitted to Robert that what had happened was that there were (as previously mentioned) two lenders. The first lender was the one that had asked for a closing on the 23rd, but was only able to qualify Annie for a 95% loan. Since Annie needs a 100% loan, this was a problem. But now he was trying to go with the second lender, who was going to offer a 100% loan, which was why the appraisal became an issue so late in the game, and why they “only just” found out about the seven-day funds thing. They were trying to work up a whole new loan without telling anyone, including Annie!

That was what we had heard as of Wednesday, November 1st. That was the last day anyone ever heard from Jay, the mortgage broker. Robert could not get hold of him; Kathy could not get hold of him (even though, as the seller’s realtor and not the buyer’s realtor, Jay didn’t *have* to talk to Kathy anyway; but he had been talking to her because at first Robert was not telling us anything and we were having to find everything out through other sources); the title company could not get hold of him; etc.

On November 6th, we found out that – would you believe it? – we weren’t going to close… again. Kathy got the idea of getting the lending company’s name from the title company and calling them directly to find out what was happening. This company (located in California) told us that the loan was still in underwriting (Jay had been telling us all along that it was out of underwriting and that he had no idea what the hold-up was), and that they were waiting on a bank statement from last year from Annie. Kathy called Robert and told him about it, which was also news to him, and Annie faxed her statement within an hour of finding out this latest tidbit of news. I really feel sorry for Annie; she has been trying so hard to be prompt and do everything that needs to be done, and these jerks aren’t even telling her what she needs to get done. Anyway, we were told that – with this document – they would be able to wrap things up and we would close on Friday, November 10th.

Today is the 9th, of course, and Kathy called the lender to make sure that everything was set to close tomorrow as scheduled. I have to warn you to hold on to your hats - you only THOUGHT things were complicated before. Just wait. The “lender” told Kathy that since Annie was only able to provide one bank statement from 2005, and not all 12, she was only going to be offered a 95% loan, so they were trying another lender….

Now, just a minute, said Kathy, I thought that you told me that *you* were the lenders; what’s this about going to another lender? As it turns out, this company is really another brokerage firm, and that the reason no one was hearing from Jay was because he had given Annie’s loan to another company without telling anyone!!!

When Robert and Annie heard this, they finally decided that there are probably lenders right here in town that will be just fine, and have been pursuing that option. And I have to admit that I am even leaving out details that might get too confusing, if that tells you anything...

In the meantime, we are still waiting: still trusting that somehow this is what God wants for us, and still hopeful that everything will turn out for the best. But I have to say that the uncertainty of this situation is really not pleasant, and there are times when I would prefer for God’s timetable to speed up a bit.

I’ll post a nice BIG entry when we are finally homeless!! :^)

There was an old lady who tried to sell her house

2006-08-09T00:15:00.000-05:00

Let’s see – where to begin? Once upon a time, there was an old lady who wanted to sell her house… well, actually that would be me. (Okay, it was really my family and I that wanted to sell the house, but that didn't FLOW poetically, you see?)

There was an offer put on the house, tendered with earnest money and a letter of commitment from a lending institution (one that our realtor had heard of, but not heard good things). We accepted the offer, since we were told that a letter of commitment was a guarantee of secured funds for a loan. We began to pack up the house, and we began to call the utility company, and the home security company, and the phone company, and the cable company, and the insurance company, and the moving company, and the babysitters for the kids, and so on.

The night before we were going to close, we got a call from our realtor that the other realtor had just called her because the lender had just called *her* to say that there were not, in fact, secured funds for a loan for the buyer. Now, this was especially frustrating news since this particular lender had been in possession of the loan application for this buyer for three weeks, but had not bothered to make sure that he could secure a loan until four business days before we were set to close. And when he found out three days before we were set to close that the buyer did not have a loan forthcoming, he decided to wait until the day before the closing to tell the buyer’s realtor. So here we were with a completely packed house, and we had to re-call the utility company, and the home security company, and the phone company, and the cable company, and the insurance company, and the moving company, and the babysitters for the kids, and so on.

This lender told the buyer the next day that, instead of the 30-year conventional loan that he had promised her, he could instead get her a 40-year interest only loan… Mark and I thought that sounded pretty scary for the buyer, but if she wanted to pursue it – well, it was her decision. In the meantime, the buyer’s realtor told us that they were going to try another lender (this one our realtor had never heard of). Lender #2 told the buyer that they could get her a 90% loan, which we were told would mean that the buyer would want to re-negotiate the price of the house to fit the 90% cost. We said that wasn’t a good deal for us, and to try another lender. (Apparently, this "90% loan" was really supposed to be a 90% loan paid to the lender, and another 10% paid to the seller. The buyer was trying to get out of paying us the additional 10% by having us lower the price of the house instead. But we didn’t find out about that part until later.)

So off they went to Lender #3: this time they went to someone who both our realtor and our lawyer recommended. The third lender was having trouble getting the loan application data, credit report, and appraisal information from the first lender. She would call Lender #1, and he would *say* that it had been sent, but the day would come to a close and no information would arrive. She was finally able to get the credit report information after a week of run-around, but it was so garbled as to be practically incoherent. She had been told that the credit report had been “repaired” by a subsidiary company of the first lender, and tried to contact the person who had done the repair to make sense of what she was trying to read. One point that she made was surprise that the buyer had been told that she could qualify for a loan at all, considering that she had filed for bankruptcy.

In the meantime, a little investigating was going on to determine what had happened with this first lender. It turns out that the company that he *said* he worked for does not, in fact, employ him. He was working under someone else’s name for that company, and is now apparently being sued by them for using their name without their consent. Oh, and the letter of commitment? It turns out that it is illegal to give one of those unless you have truly secured funds for them. That was why our realtor thought it was a firm offer, because it never occurred to her that someone was perpetrating fraud.

Our realtor actually called Lender #1 to see why he did that, and he said that he never would have done it except that the other realtor begged him to since the buyer was her sister. Apparently, that’s another law that was circumvented: a realtor is required to disclose if he or she has a special tie or relationship to the buyer, which this realtor did not do. And I would think that Crye-Lieke – who was the realtor’s company – had probably told her about that disclosure notice, and that she just ignored it.

Getting back to the main plot, at this point our realtor ran into an old friend who had recently been promoted to vice-president of the bank where she worked. Kathy (our realtor) told her friend about the situation, and her friend suggested letting one of her loan officers have a look at it. After all, there are supposed to be loans out there these days for just about anybody. Kathy told the other realtor to check out this avenue, as well, and so entered Lender #4 into the fray. They also thought that this woman should never have been counseled to buy a house at this time, and was getting iffy about being able to find an underwriter for a loan.

We found this out while we were at our attorney’s office, signing a power of attorney statement because we were going out of town. Just in case some miracle occurred and we were able to close on the house while we were gone, we gave power of attorney to Mark’s parents to sign for us and close the deal.

While we were on our way to our lawyer’s office, Kathy called and said that the other realtor had asked if her buyer could go with Lender #2’s offer for the 90% loan. We were seriously considering it, if only to get away from this mess and be done with it.

Kathy called again and said that Lender #1 had called her and asked if he could have another chance at securing a loan. He told her that he wanted to try for an FHA loan. Kathy said that we had had a previous offer, and those buyers had wanted to use an FHA loan, but the appraisal had specified repairs to the house that we were unable to take on the cost of repair for, so the deal had fallen through. Lender #1 told Kathy that he could get an FHA appraisal that would show no repairs needed…. Now, Kathy happens to know that once an FHA appraisal has been made on a house for sale, it is binding for any FHA offer on that house until it sells. So here he was again, offering to commit fraud for the benefit of a sale.

Meanwhile, Lender #4’s loan officer, too, was having trouble getting the needed information from Lender #1, and decided to pull his own credit report – an “unrepaired” credit report. That was when we found out that the “repaired” credit report had somehow erased not one but TWO court-ordered collection judgments against her for failure to pay a loan in a timely fashion. This meant that – from a legal standpoint – she *could not* apply for another loan until she had paid off these other two loans.

And then our attorney did a little checking of his own and found out that Lender #2 was an assumed name for Lender #1 – as in, it was the same company running under two different names!! That’s when we said that enough was enough, thanks but no thanks, don’t let the door hit you on the way out, the deal is off.

So, while I would like to say we are back to “square one” on the house, we are really minus several squares. As I mentioned earlier, we were completely packed and ready to go. So now we were being told to go back on “active” status with a house full of boxes! We have decided to be optimistic that another buyer will be coming soon, and have put almost everything into storage, to try to make the house more presentable.

No one has come by to see the house since it went back on the market – which is probably just as well since it is still quite a mess. I am hopeful that God is just giving us a little time to “tidy up” before sending our real and true buyer.

On a happier note, I mentioned that we went out of town; we went to visit my brother’s family in California for a week. It was so beautiful and peaceful there; it was the perfect antidote for all the insanity happening here. But would you believe that while we were visiting, my brother had to work for several of the days we were there because – can you guess? – their company was moving!!!! :^)

Have a great day!

Depressed - ME??

2006-07-05T06:26:00.000-05:00

Well, here's a thing: did you know that you can be diagnosed with depression and NEVER FEEL SAD???

I had gone to the doctor last week because of some pain in my hands (they were achy all the time and sometimes going numb), and while I was there I asked about checking my kidney function (my dad has kidney disease and recently asked me to get myself checked out, since it is hereditary). In the process of asking about it, I started to cry, thinking about all the pain that Dad has been through.

Apparently, this sent up a red flag for the nurse practitioner who was seeing me, and she got to asking me questions about depression. I told her that, no, I wasn't depressed. Sure, I was tired all the time, and could barely think a coherent sentence from one end to the next, and got mad all the time, and cried at nothing at all, but what did that have to do with depression? After all, I have been under a bit of STRESS lately!! We are getting ready to move (just to another part of town), and I have a seven-week old baby, and my daughter has been having tantrums that you would not believe (and, no, I can't "just ignore them" - she literally becomes a danger to herself and to our house - not to mention to her older brother and me... She has yet to retaliate against the baby directly), and my Dad - who is supposed to live forever according to my inner child - is on dialysis, and and and.... Well, I could go on, but I think you get the picture.

I just chalked my high emotion-ability to stress. After all, I didn't feel sad, and that was the main qualifier for depression, right? WRONG!! I didn't have time to feel sad, but I was depressed. So I went on Lexapro, a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (or SSRI), and have just been amazed at how different life seems. I don't "feel" any differently, per se. No miscellaneous appendages have sprouted on me or embarrassing twitches. But I can THINK again, and I haven't felt like crying since I started taking the meds. I still get angry at the silly things that my children do, but they don't send me into a rage.

So I guess this is a sort of public service announcement: depression is deceptive, and if you are under a lot of stress, you may also be depressed and not know it. I was certainly shocked to learn about mine, but the amazing effectiveness of the SSRI seems to bear out the nurse practitioner's suspicions. Who'd of thunk it? Have a happy day!

The Gang's All Here!

2006-05-21T20:34:00.000-05:00

I was just chided for not having any pictures of our newest addition! Mea culpa; here you go.

Baby Michael Jospeh Romer:

The always flattering hospital gown shot (but look - we're all smiling!!):

The kids (Paul, Joanna, and Michael):

ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL

2006-05-19T18:09:00.000-05:00

[CAUTION: This story contains explicit birthing terminology; it is NOT for the squeamish!]

I am typing on my PDA so that I can be on a "comfy chair" AND still get this story down in a timely manner.

This story really begins three-and-a-half years ago, with the birth of our daughter, Joanna. My labor with her lasted about ten hours total. Things went really slowly until my water broke; then Joanna was on the scene within forty minutes of my water breaking.

Based on that experience, I was kind of apprehensive about going into labor THIS time around, for Michael Joseph. After all, with Joanna's birth going *so* quickly I was kind of paranoid about getting to the hospital on time. And, after you read this, I think you will agree that my fears were justified.

This past Monday evening (May 15th), I started to have contractions at around 5:30 in the afternoon. They were not very regular, but Mark and I figured – since things could change so quickly, and Monday **was** already my due date – that we had better get on over to the hospital. Now, Mark had to get home still; we had to get Paul and Joanna to my sister's house; and THEN we could drive to the hospital, which is about 40 minutes away. This particular hospital (St. Francis in Bartlett) has what I consider a rather odd practice for laboring moms: they have to be admitted through the ER with everyone else and *then* be moved up to the second floor Labor and Delivery unit. That whole process took about three hours.

It turned out that Monday's contractions were what is termed a "false" labor, so I was sent home: at 5 cm dilation, 70% effacement, and a -1 station. Just for comparison, when I was in real labor with Joanna I was only dilated at 2 cm for those first nine hours of her birth, and then went from 2 cm to 10 cm and "crowning" (as in, ready to push the baby out) in 20 minutes. So I was even MORE ready than before, but being sent back home – did I mention 40 minutes away?!! – and REALLY, REALLY getting nervous now.

Fast forward to Wednesday morning at 5:30 a.m. The contractions had started up again, and – since I had been quite chastened by the nurses for coming to the hospital in false labor – I was determined that I was going to be able to answer all their questions in the affirmative. So I “walked around,” which is supposed to suppress the contractions of false labor - no change. I tried to “take a soothing bath,” another false labor suppression technique - no change.

The final test was how far apart the contractions were, and whether they were "regular." They were ten minutes apart at first, very regular, and in fact getting stronger. By the time I had all these checked off, it was about 7:15, and the contractions were now six minutes apart. Mark had gotten the kids up and made sure they were ready to go. We called Margaret (my sister) and arranged to drop off Joanna after taking Paul to school. And since we had the kids with us, I was in the front passenger seat with the seatback mostly upright (that became a major obstacle later on).

We dropped off the kids, and the contractions were getting pretty fierce, but holding steady at six minutes apart. And at six minutes, we really figured that we still had at least an hour to go before Baby Michael would be making his grand entrance. We might be cutting it close, but we would at least be SOMEWHERE in the hospital when the time came.

We were apparently on Summer Avenue (taking Mark’s word for it, because I had brought along a sleep mask. Initially, it was to wear at the hospital during the night – you know, for when the nurse’s have to come in every two hours to check on you – but the early morning sun blinking through the trees was NOT helping the contractions, so I had put it on) when suddenly the contractions ramped up to three minutes apart and the strongest yet. It was at this point that I had Mark call the hospital and ask if an ambulance could meet us on the way. He called, but they said that since we were so close that it wouldn’t do much good and we should just keep driving.

Even in the midst of the pain, I had a moment to feel some sympathy for Mark here. I mean, yes, I was in excruciating pain, but *he* had to remain calm and watch the traffic, trying to act as if his beloved wife wasn’t screaming in agony beside him. Of course, moments later I didn’t have brain capacity to think about *anything* but the baby coming out; but at *this* moment, I did feel for him.

And then it happened: my water broke! All I could say was “Oh, dear – oh dear oh dear oh dear oh dear …” just repeating that over and over – and louder and louder. Part of the panic that was threatening was that I could feel Michael starting to try to push his way out, and not only did I still have clothes on down there, but I was still sitting upright with my legs together!! And I was in such pain that I could barely move to find the mechanism to let the seat down!! And we were still a few miles from the hospital!!!! (Yes, I was thinking in multiple exclamation points!!!!!! That’s always a bad sign.)

I don’t know how many people reading this have actually gone through childbirth; but the point here is that once you reach the “pushing” stage, you are at the point of no return. There is NO allowance for “holding back.” You just have to go with it, and hope that you make it through to the other side. I started screaming at this point for Mark to pull over so that I could get the chair down and get out of the seatbelt, but Summer Avenue (at the point where we were) is wooded and doesn’t have a shoulder area so we couldn’t. Like me, all Mark could do was keep going and pray. Funny, though, *he* wasn’t screaming… Just as an aside, I was really unnerved by the sounds that I was making: I did not sound human. I hope I didn’t scare Mark too much.

Anyway, I *was* able somehow to get the seat down (I couldn’t release the belt, which was probably for the best) and out came Baby Michael, after only four pushes – right into my pants!! It’s a good thing that maternity wear is so ROOMY!!!!!

This is where all the prayers that people have been saying for me during the pregnancy paid off. True, I had been upset before, but I was about to go into hysterics because now Michael was out! SOMEONE had to cut his umbilical cord and suction his airways and get him breathing – and *I* still couldn’t move and Mark was still driving and we were still too far away from the hospital!! My sweet baby was going to die only moments after coming into the world because he was going to suffocate!! My heart was on the verge of breaking at the scenario that was unfolding.

Or so I was thinking. What *happened*, though, was that Mark had pulled into a muffler shop next to a gas station (Mid-South Muffler & Automotive next to the Mapco at Summer and Stage). And there, at the gas station, there just “happened” to be an ambulance!!!! They were not on a call; they had just stopped in to get their morning coffee, and were pulling out of their parking space when Mark flagged them down and got them to come over.

So they were able to cut my pants off, get Michael out, cut his cord, get him breathing, and get him and me into the ambulance for the rest of the ride to the hospital. Mark resumed his car-driving duties and followed behind (although far behind, since the ambulance flicked its siren on and was able to clear a path).

Oh, and here’s another interesting thing: the ambulance technician’s name was Michael, and the driver’s *middle* name was Joseph. And yes, we had already chosen Michael Joseph as his name. Granted, those are common names, but what are the odds of that happening? It seems that would be pretty small.

So we are very grateful to God and to all those who prayed for a safe delivery for Baby Michael. Although this was probably not what ANYONE had in mind (don’t tell me if it was, okay? I just wouldn’t want to know that), it turned out for the best. Michael recovered valiantly and I am doing pretty well, too, and so we return to the beginning: ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Lord!

2006-02-21T09:30:00.000-06:00

This past Saturday, I braved the elements and went to the St. Louis Perpetual Adoration Chapel for an hour with Jesus in His Real Presence in the Blessed Sacrament. While I was there, I tried what I like to call "The Joanna Method" of prayer. What I mean by that is this: when we say our night-time prayers before we go to bed at night, we all say something for which we are thankful from the day. When it comes to Joanna's turn, she is thankful for EVERYTHING - puppies, pictures, walls, doors, you name it and she has probably covered it!!! Of course, part of her motive for doing this is to prolong the prayer time so as not to have to go to bed. But it is so sweet, and it is a beautiful reminder for me of just how much our Lord gives us, and how dependent we are on Him for literally everything.

So, while sitting before our Lord (I just couldn't kneel the whole hour, sorry), I tried this method, with the added twist of not simply naming things but really thinking about why I would be thankful for such a thing. I started with the obvious: "Thank You for buildings, Lord; it's really cold out today, and buildings are a wonderful way to keep warm." I went on through all the things that I could remember that Joanna is usually thankful for: doorknobs (which made me remember a quote from a Vietnam vet who was a prisoner of war: "There is no such thing as a bad day when there is a doorknob on the inside..."), windows (how nice it is to be in a warm building and still be able to enjoy the beauty of the snow), as well as flowers, carpets, colors, etc. I added a few things that she does not normally think of (members of my family, being thankful for each one in turn; Jesus in the Eucharist, although to her credit Joanna has named this before; the whole set-up of the Church and the ministries that she promotes that Jesus left behind for us to know His love; etc.) I spent most of the hour engaged in this "specified thankfulness" prayer. It was actually very spiritually uplifting; so I wanted to recommend it to anyone who has never thought of trying it.

Have a great day!

Oopsie!

2006-02-15T09:58:00.000-06:00

In the entry I just posted, I accidentally said that my dad would whisper to calm down "drink" people instead of "drunk" people. I really do read over my posts before I publish them - so why is it that I never see typos until it's too late to change them? That's a really annoying tendency.

Be vewy, vewy quiet

2006-02-15T09:49:00.000-06:00

I have been trying to recuperate from a bad congestion/fever episode from last week, and still can't talk because of all the coughing that has just worn out my throat. But I have noticed that many of the people that have talked to me over the past few days start whispering, too, when they are talking to me. They start out speaking in their normal voice, but gradually get softer and softer. It's like I'm conducting an unofficial science experiment: documenting cases of sympathetic whispering. I have actually asked a few people, "So, I know why I'm whispering, but why are *you* whispering now?" Inevitably, the person doesn't even realize that they have started whispering; they just automatically start to match my tone of voice. My dad told me once that, when he was in teh Navy and sometimes had to do stints as MP during tours of duty, he would be told to whisper to drink people in order to calm them down because they would automatically and unconsciously match the tone of voice of whoever they were talking to. I guess the technique works for anybody. And there's your weird science fact of the day!

Great Pro-life Ads

2006-02-14T01:05:00.000-06:00

There are some really good pro-life ads on the National Right to Life website, http://www.nrlc.org/onlinebrochures/Downloadables/Ads.htm, pictures of which I tried earlier to get on my blog. I am not technologically savvy enough to do that, apparently. But I will give a verbal descirption of my favorite:

It is called "Excuse Me America." At the top of the ad is a box of Kleenex, and at the bottom is am ultrasound picture of a baby. Underneath the Kleenex box, the text reads: "Excuse me, America. This is tissue." And underneath the ulrasound, it says, "This is not."

Simple, elegant, effective, beautiful. I loved it!

Doctor's Office Health Screening Quiz

2006-02-13T16:48:00.000-06:00

Well, I had a good laugh today at the doctor's office. While I was checking in, the receptionist asked, "And how are you today?"

I just laughed and said, "This must be your secret health screening quiz, huh? If a person says 'fine,' they have to go home?" She agreed that perhaps it wasn't the best question to be asking at a doctor's office.

Joanna, Joanna

2006-01-31T21:56:00.000-06:00

Before getting ready for bed tonight, Joanna and I were looking at the "big book," as she calls it. It is our unabridged dictionary, which truly is a big book at about six inches thick. It has some maps and other pictures in the back, which is what we were looking at tonight. While we looked at the map of the United States, Joanna would point to a place and ask "Where is that?" And I would read the designation of whichever state she had pointed to. After a minute or so, I showed her our city, and said, "Look, Joanna, this is where we live." She looked at the spot on the map, paused for a moment, and asked in a perplexed voice, "But, where's our car?" What a beautiful little mind!!

Speaking of names

2006-01-11T19:11:00.000-06:00

Joanna has decided to give everyone in the family nicknames. I am now "Orange," both Dad and Paul are called "Banana" (to avoid confusion, I suppose), and Joanna's nickname is "Bone." Thus we explore the intricacies of the three-year-old human mind.

The Name Game, and other stuff

2006-01-10T18:50:00.000-06:00

Well, I have not updated this in a while - as the blog name plainly states, so don't be too surprised by that! But due to some strange harmonic convergence, I have a moment to write and I have something to say, so here I go.

I had a great Christmas season - it seems that I celebrated almost all twelve days! We got together at my in-laws house on Christmas Day; had my side of the family over to our house on the 26th; went back to the in-laws on the 28th; and went to a New Year's evening gathering with some college friends (complete with kids - what a blast! but we definitely did NOT stay up till midnight).

Of course, the Catholic Church has officially moved out of the Christmas season, with the celebration of the Baptism of the Lord yesterday, but my decorations are still up. That is mainly because I have been tackling some other household projects that have been on the old "to do" list for a while. I finally repainted and wall-paper-bordered the kids' rooms. It was an intense couple of days, but they look good. There are a few little touch-up spots near the ceiling, but I am content to wait for another day on those.

We also went to the doctor on the 6th of January for an ultrasound, to check on the baby's progress and to see if the little rascal would be cooperative enough to show him- or her- self for a gender ID... And he did! It's a boy, and so now the question has become "What are you going to call him?"

We have had several offerings of advice on possible names from our nieces and from our own children, although I am not sure that any of them are going to pass final muster.... The twins think that Sheldon would be a fine boy's name (I have forgotten which TV show they pulled that from, but they did admit that it is a boy's name from a TV show that they have seen). My son wants to call him "Leo," after the famous Leonardo the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle; and my daughter is thinking along much the same lines, but prefers Michaelangelo. I'm kind of leaning toward Andrew myself, although I could be persuaded to another name if the reasoning is compelling.

I think I have run out of steam now (or thoughts - hot air, in any case), so I think I will go take some ornaments off the Christmas tree. Have a happy day!

Merry Christmas!

2005-12-23T23:28:00.000-06:00

Merry CHRISTMAS!!!!

This is just my own little rant here, but while I'm all for keeping Christ in Christmas, how about keeping MASS in Christmas, too? Call 1-800-MASS-TIMES for a listing of Mass times anywhere in the United States. Say "thank You" to God for His wondrous gift.

The whole thought of God becoming man is more than I can hold in my brain, really. There's a song that says, "Whom all the world cannot contain comes in our hearts to dwell." My mind just can't really absorb that on an intellectual level (thank You, God, for the insight of faith!). I wonder if that's why sometimes our imaginations come up with places that look bigger on the inside than they are on the outside.... because we sense that if God is within us, we must be "bigger on the inside." Well, I don't have the brain power to delve too deeply into that tonight. So, until I write again, open yourself to all the graces in store for you through the sacraments. Renew the connection of human and divine in this sacred season.

Merry Christmas!!!!

Another Joanna-ism

2005-12-19T15:33:00.000-06:00

There are some phrases that I never expected to hear a sober person say, even if the person in question is only three. Last Wednesday, we were driving back to our house. In a voice filled with astonishment, Joanna proclaimed, "Oh - I *do* have pants on!"

I tell ya, it really takes a LOT of control not to howl with laughter over some of the things that she says. Who needs Comedy Central, anyway?

Low blood pressure info

2005-12-16T04:46:00.000-06:00

Wow; I am so relieved! I recently read an e-mail that really helped me, and I wanted to share it, just in case anyone else has this problem.

I have had low blood pressure for most of my life (usually in the 90/60 range). I never really thought about how that affected me, physically; I figured that it didn't, to be honest. But I receive a daily e-mail called "Daily Health News," which is a free e-mail service from Bottom Line: Health, and the e-mail that I received on Monday, December 12, was on the symptoms associated with low blood pressure.

While it cautions that a sudden drop in blood pressure is a medical condition to be treated, and chronic low blood pressure (CLBP) is just something to learn to live with, it does say that there are several things that people who have CLBP live with almost all the time. I know that I have had these symptoms, but I had never known that it was because of CLBP.

Some of the symptoms listed were:

"No doubt you have experienced times when you've gotten up quickly from a prone position and become instantly light-headed, perhaps so much so that you had to sit down. Imagine having that happen to you all the time -- that is what life can be like for many of those who have symptomatic low blood pressure."

Constant fatigue is another symptom, and the one that blew me away: salt cravings! Many people that I am around during mealtimes tease me about my salt intake (I have even been compared to the "salt-eating monster" from the original Star Trek series, or asked if I wanted a salt lick like those put out for deer). Apparently, salt cravings are my body's attempts to increase fluid retention to increase blood volume and hence blood pressure, according to this article.

Another thing that the article mentioned was this:

"Another... problem is that when patients are lying down, their pressure goes very high. Medication taken at night will lower the pressure, but then, when patients get up during the night to urinate (common among these patients), they tend to fall down. [Mark Pecker, MD, a specialist in low blood pressure at New York-Presbyterian Hospital and professor of clinical medicine at Weill Cornell Medical School in New York City] says that this night pattern is the major problem associated with low blood pressure. Patients are advised to sleep with their heads raised."

This is indeed a problem that I have experienced, although I didn't realize that it was simply a manifestation of CLBP. It would be terrifying to be lying down, trying to relax, and have your heart start racing like crazy. At least now I know what's happening, and that helps a lot.

Anyway, this article just cleared up so many nagging concerns for me; after all, I have had every single one of the symptoms described in the article. I thought I was becoming a closet hypochondriac, but it's really just the effects of low blood pressure. What a relief!

OK, enough of that

2005-12-14T21:25:00.000-06:00

My apologies; I did not mean to leave that dream as the "first post you see" for so long. As I said, I do have good dreams, too, and - to balance that other one - I will share one that I had while I was pregnant with my daughter, Joanna. The following dream was actually part of a larger experience, which I will also relate. I call dreams like this one a "Joseph dream;" not that it is prophetic or anything, but I know God is definitely speaking to me through them.

Pre-dream info:

I was 37 weeks pregnant with baby Joanna. I had been having lots of “practice contractions” and they were at their worst at night when I was trying to sleep (go figure). This particular night they were quite frequent and pretty strong, and I had said a quick little prayer, asking the Lord to help me get through them. And this is the dream He sent me:

Dream:

I was in a church with several other people, and we were having Eucharistic adoration. I think the church may have been St. Williams, although (in the manner of dreams) it didn’t “look” like St. Williams. A very strange twist to the adoration was that there was a cup of the Precious Blood there, as well. I realize that is impossible (since the Precious Blood must be totally consumed during a Liturgy), but there it was in my dream.

At one point in the adoration, the cup was to be moved to the back of the church for some reason, to a special pedestal erected there for that purpose. And for some other strange reason, I got to move it rather than the priest (you can really see the dream part entering in here). After I had moved it, I lingered for a moment still holding the chalice in my hands: looking into it at the Precious Blood there in the cup. I was kneeling, which I am not sure how *that* was happening since the pedestal was high enough to be seen over the pews, but there I was.

We were singing “Do Not Let Your Hearts Be Troubled,” one of my favorite songs. I found myself looking at this chalice and thinking to myself, “You are holding the blood of your GOD. How *incredible* is that? That GOD is right here, as real as He is in Heaven, and you get to touch Him, even in your complete unworthiness, because of His amazing LOVE for you.”

At this point, everything went into a kind of “negative” perspective (like a film negative), and the chalice in my hands began to grow, and I was groveling in front of the Precious Blood – while still holding on to it somehow – saying over and over again “Lord, Lord, Lord!”

The feeling of the REALITY of God’s presence there was so overwhelming that it seemed to fill my entire being until I thought I was going to burst into a million pieces. I was at once terrified, and full of wonder, and peaceful, and so many other things. I can’t describe it all. It was more than I could ever hold, because it was God’s presence itself. The sweetness of it was an agony; I prayed for Jesus to let me go because I am still so sinful, I just couldn’t bear it. I could even see the reflection of Jesus within the Precious Blood, holding His arms out to me.

I knew that He would never hurt me (except in the manner of the Divine Physician), but I did feel pain at seeing Him: in the knowledge of His great love and my knowledge of pains that I have caused Him by my sin, even (and maybe especially) in the knowledge of His great love DESPITE my sins. Fr. John Corapi said that he once had a dream in which he learned that God’s name is MERCY; I think I just had one of those dreams. Anyway, being God, loving me beyond my wildest expectations and allowing for my free will, he did release me, and I woke up.

Post-dream:

I was still having the contraction, or maybe it was another one, but my body felt so light and almost insubstantial that I hardly felt the contraction at all, even though I knew I was having one. I hardly felt the covers or the bed, I was still so enveloped by this sense of peacefulness and relief. I woke Mark and asked if he would scoot over, just to reconnect me to reality, and he did.

He sensed that I had had a dream, and asked if I wanted to talk about it (although he was concerned that it might have been one of my nightmares). I told him about it, and in the course of describing the dream, I inadvertently said, “When I got back” instead of “When I woke up.” I guess this dream had just been so real for me, even with all the impossibilities. But the feeling of peace is still with me, and I have a new appreciation of God’s love for us, especially in that He instituted the Eucharist for us.

Addendum: I wrote the above portion at about two in the morning, right after the dream happened. Then I went back to bed and had just regular dreams, woke up at the regular time, and got Paul off to school. I had not been to daily Mass in some time and thought it would be appropriate to go today, even though I would also be attending a Funeral Mass later that morning. God was apparently not satisfied with me simply *dreaming* of His love for us in the Precious Blood: today Fr. Ernie said a special Votive Mass for the Sacred Heart of Jesus, from which that Precious Blood flows!! I still don’t know why Father used that Mass setting, but it was very special for me. What a wonderful God we have!

Crack Is No Ordinary Killer

2005-12-09T07:15:00.000-06:00

Well. For those of you who thought I was sane, I am about to disabuse you of that notion.

Ever since I can remember, I have had extremely vivid dreams, and fairly good recall of most dreams. When they are good dreams, this is a really cool thing. But when they are bad dreams, or disturbing dreams, they can REALLY get to me. Last night, I had a particularly disturbing dream.

I dreamt that my son Paul and I were at our family computer, searching for something, and this music video came on called "Crack Is No Ordinary Killer." It had been designed to show, in a metaphorical way, what happens to people when they get hooked on drugs. It was a rap song, but in the way of dreams you could actually hear the words clearly.

The video begins with someone at a party taking crack for the first time (not really knowing anything about crack myself, my dream showed the person injecting the crack. I don't know if that would be appropriate, but from a visual perspective you will see why it was done that way). As the person went to shoot the crack into their arm, instead of a liquid coming out of the needle, this huge spider-like creature emerged from the needle - impossibly large for the space involved, it's body was about the size of a human skull. It skittered up the person's arm and over their head, and bit into the back of their neck, while coiling its legs around the person's neck.

Then, the person's hands started turning into huge cockroahes that are attached to his wrists, to simulate the way that people have to scurry around and steal to get money to buy more drugs. Eventually, the person just turns into one big bug, crawling around; mindlessly looking for what he can't even remember, just a huge empty need driving him on.

Now, if you recall, I had said that both I AND my ten-year-old son were watching this video. Paul and I were not complacently "ho-hum" watching this. Ass soon as the spider thing crawled up the person's arm, Paul said, "Mommy, I don't like this song, Please turn it off." And I had to agree: in normal life, I would NOT watch such a video. I tried going to another website; the computer wouldn't let me. I tried shutting it down; it wouldn't let me. Nothing I tried worked (short of unplugging the darned thing, which I couldn't do because the plug was stuck back behind the deck where i couldn't get to it), so we ended up watching the whole thing whether or not we wanted to.

From a purely subjective, "art for art's sake" viewpoint, it was very well done. The bugs looked VERY real (WETA Digital probably had a hand in it, I'm sure). I have to say that I stopped following the words because my mind was overcome by the sheer visual impact; I could just tell that the music was still going on in the background. One interesting point about the music that did intrude itself into my consciousness was that, when the song started, it was just doing the fairly simplistic "heartbeat" type of rhythm. But as the song progressed, the rhythm got more and more complex and disjointed, until at the end there was no discernable pattern.

It did an extrememly good job, in my opinion, of showing the plight of poor people who get hooked on drugs. This is not say that they cannot be held responsible for their actions; the first "hit" is almost always a free choice. But the insidious and escalating nature of addiction is very real, just the same. Whether it is a decision or a disease, it is still a tragedy. Please say a prayer for those addicted to drugs - or any other thing that controls someone's life - for freedom from that tyranny.

One more Grand Ultreya shot

2005-12-06T23:04:00.000-06:00

Some people had already gotten their food, but others - lots of others - were still waiting in line. Good food, good fellowship!

More Grand Ultreya

2005-12-06T22:58:00.001-06:00

More Grand Ultreya

2005-12-06T22:58:00.000-06:00

Grand Ultreya

2005-12-06T22:38:00.000-06:00

Well, I guess I will be doing this in installments, since I can't get all of the pictures to download on to this posting. These are pictures from the Grand Ultreya this evening. As you can see, there was a nice crowd there, with nice people, too!

My "fruit-full" daughter

2005-12-01T22:55:00.000-06:00

For Thanksgiving, each of my siblings is charged with bringing a certain part of the meal so that one person is not stuck with all the cooking. This year, my charge was to bring fruit as snacks for before and after dinner. I wanted to wait until the last moment to get nice, fresh fruit, and happened to be at my parent's house on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. Since that was their usual day for getting groceries anyway, Dad suggested that he look for fruit at the store while he was out while the kids and I stayed and visited with Mom.

He came back with a lovely variety - all well received - but none compared to the grapes that he found. They were huge, juicy, sweet red grapes, and Joanna absolutely loved them (all the little ones ate them with great enthusiasm). They were gone before dinner even began, whereas the rest of the fruit, though good, lingered and we even got to take some home with us. But no grapes.

Every day since Thanksgiving, Joanna has asked for more grapes, and I have had to tell her that, sadly, we had no grapes. I finally called Mom and asked that the next time Dad got to the store, would he please see if there were any more grapes to be had for his suffering granddaughter....

Mom called yesterday to tell me that Dad had finally found some more grapes, and we drove out to pick them up. The drive to Mom and Dad's is about 13 miles from my house, and Joanna fell asleep on the way over. So she did not see the bag of food that Mom put into the car when we arrived (put in first so that we would not forget it later - aren't Moms smart?). Joanna just thought that we had gone to visit Grandma and Grandpa (although she did ask where everyone was - kind of cute, since we *are* usually there when at least one other sibling and cousins are there as well).

Joanna was so excited when we unpacked the bag after we got home. I pulled out some cake mix and she said, "Caaaaaake." I pulled out pineapple and cherries, and she said, "Piiiiiineapple, cheeeeerrrrrrrries." I pulled out the bananas, and she said, "Banaaaaaaaanas."

But when I pulled out the grapes, she said, "Grapes! Oh, grapes!! I *love* grapes!! Mommy, Mommy, it's grapes!" So, I think that was a "winner" purchase. Naturally, we had to have some grapes right then, and they were every bit as juicy and sweet as their appearance promised. So we give Grandpa a big "thumbs up" for the grapes!

I changed my settings again

2005-11-27T23:21:00.000-06:00

I am still learning on this blog thingy; I have decided to allow comments from non-blog personnel, although I will be "moderating" them: which means the comments won't appear unless I have reviewed them and found them worthy. That way, we hopefully won't get any more "Loved your site; check out how to order free earth-moving equipment" comments.

I still have the "word verification" active, too, to make sure that only live people can comment to the site.

Woo hoo!! Have a great day.

Family photos; holiday musings

2005-11-25T23:02:00.000-06:00

Well, we recently celebrated Thanksgiving (imagine!), and Paul came up with this great shot (that's him, in the "headless" jacket). He ducked his head into the jacket, and squirreled his arms in, as well, using them to prop up his jacket to look like "shoulders." What a nut!

Daddy and Joanna were playing hide and seek, and Daddy accidentally dislodged my wedding veil from its hiding place in my closet. Joanna promptly seized upon it as a wonderful dress-up accessory. Especially with her white dress, it conjures thoughts that I am WAY not ready to face right now!! But it will be a really sweet picture to add to a wedding album some day, won't it?

On a more "serious" note, even with all of the craziness in our world - political, cultural, you name it - there are still many blessings to be thankful for at this time of year. The beauty of the autumn never fails to lift my spirit, even as it raises my allergen levels.... To all of my wonderful family members, friends who feel like family, and people who have helped me grow even against my will, I thank God for you this day. May God richly bless you for all the joys you have shown me. Happy Thanksgiving!

I've moved!

2005-11-18T09:07:00.000-06:00

Well, I have officially moved out of the state of Tennessee and into the state of SHOCK!!

According to the ultrasound that I had on Tuesday morning, I am fourteen weeks pregnant. This is after thinking TWICE during this pregnancy that I was going to miscarry. Once was a "self-assessment" thing, when all my "symptoms" disappeared. Then, after eleven weeks and no miscarriage, I went to the doctor, which showed that the pregnancy hormone (hcg) was dropping: a sure sign of miscarriage.... or it would be in the FIRST ten weeks. But it is SUPPOSED to taper off at about the eleventh week.... The doctor just didn't believe me when I told him when my last period had been. And you know, that bugs me. I track my cycle anyway, but - honestly - don't doctors think a woman can recognize whether or not she's BLEEDING??? Well, whatever.

I hope that I am not offending any well-wishers by my subdued response to their enthusiasm, on hearing news of the pregnancy. I have had too many times of getting excited about being pregnant, only to be let down by miscarriage. It will take a while for my brain to really accept that this one might REALLY take, really. Jitter, jitter.

So, if I seem a litttle more dazed and confused than normal (which will be a difficult distinction, I realize), now you know why. And if I don't, well... um. What was I saying? :^)

Word verification turned on

2005-11-14T07:24:00.000-06:00

A day of highs and lows

2005-11-13T21:33:00.000-06:00

I participated in three vastly different "baby" experiences today.

The first was bringing a baby shower gift to a friend's daughter; the daughter is expecting her first child in December. A very sweet girl.

The second was a Baptism for the baby of my brother-in-law and his wife. Little Rebecca Marie was quite a good sport about all that water, not to mention the oil on her head!

The third was a very sad affair, however. Last week, a friend of mine lost her baby. She was only eight days away from her delivery date. Today was the funeral. The family is relatively new to our parish, so not many people attended the funeral. And I suppose that there are some people out there who cannot understand why someone would want a funeral for a baby that had not technically been "born." But I understood.

I was not exactly envious - since I certainly did not wish my friend ill - but I do wish that I, too, had been able to have some "closure" in my miscarriages. I am told that I am the process of miscarriage number four, and I can tell you that it hurts to lose that little life that you thought you were going to get to cuddle and talk to and fuss over. Even if you never met them, never saw them, never touched them - it hurts. And to lose such a life only days before you thought you were going to meet her,... it breaks my heart to think about the pain this little family is going through.

I say "in the process" of a miscarriage because the actual bleeding part of the miscarrieage has not occurred yet. I have just been told that my pregnancy hormones have dropped by about 50% in the last two weeks, which doesn't happen if you're still pregnant. So I get to wait, knowing that I am not going to keep my baby, and not able to do anything about it, apparently. Maybe that's part of what was bugging me last night, too: the un-avoidable-ness of death.

No matter how short or how long I live, one day I will die. And there is NOTHING that I can do to change that. The only thing I can do is change my mindset on death (as in, acceptance or terror). I *do* believe in a resurrected life; I just don't want to have to die to achieve it!! Ah, well.

At least I saw the balance of life today; that although there is sorrow at death, there is also great joy in new life. It was good to see.

Early morning missive - the tension of being human

2005-11-13T04:29:00.000-06:00

I guess my brain figured that since it couldn't go for deep sleep, deep thoughts would do just as well. This is usually the time of night when I wake up (ostensibly because I am thirsty, or need to go to the bathroom, etc.) and end up thinking about what will happen to me when I die.

The whole idea of the state of my soul being fixed FOREVER simply terrifies me. Even the thought of eternal happiness just freaks me out - it's so FOREVER!!! We humans spend all of our lives in a universe of constant change, and when we die we are suddenly thrust into a realm of changelessness. The only way I can cope is to talk to Jesus (I wouldn't want to call what I tell Him prayer, exactly), and say things like, "Well, Lord, I suppose I just have to trust You, huh? But all I'm saying is, You had BETTER be there!!!" Sometimes, when I tell other people about this feeling, they murmur some platitude like "well, you just need more faith. I am conifdent of what will happen after I die." And I think to myself, "That's because you've never REALLY let yourself think about it!!"

I suppose the truth is – if I’m really honest – the reason I get scared is because I know that I have let God down – in so, so many ways. And, yes, I know that He is always willing to forgive, of course - but still... there are those stories in the Gospel about the people who come up to the gate and are told “I never knew you” - and it comes as a complete shock to the person in question. Am I one of those unsuspecting souls?

How many times have I opened my big mouth and said what I shouldn’t have? Or worse yet, how many times have I been silent when I know I should have spoken out? I feel like if I think about these things too much, I’ll go crazy; and yet, I can’t just *not* think about them, because that would be self-defeating as well. It is indeed a narrow path that one must walk – faith is a razor’s edge between presumption and despair. Get too over-confident, and you no longer have “faith,” you have – well, I don’t know what to call it. But St. Paul said something like “if you see something too clearly, how can you call what you have faith?” And then, of course, giving in to the “try not to think about it” attitude isn’t faith, either (or so it seems to me). And anyway, that theory wouldn’t work for me: I’m going to think about these things.

It’s a quandary. And I know that – this side of heaven – I am not going to figure it out. And that frustrates me, especially in my American mindset of “I want it now so why shouldn't I have it now?” But I feel better for having written it down, anyway. Sleep tight! :^)

Answering the "Is God Male" Question

2005-11-08T09:17:00.000-06:00

So, I was thinking, do you think that God sends these periodic spells of warmer weather in an effort to get women to shave their legs more often during the winter months? Could this be the definitive proof that God is male that we have been searching for? :^)

Where have all the paranoids gone?

2005-11-05T19:29:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow will be Nevember 6, 2005, or - as is sometimes abbreviated - 11-6-05. After the new millenium began, I remember getting paranoid e-mails on a regular basis along the lines of "Today is 03-03-03, and this phenomenon won't happen again for another two gazillion years." Of course, the next year, the same frenzy erupted over 04-04-04, not to mention on 01-02-03 and 06-05-04 and such-like. So I'm just surprised that no one has sent some vaguely menacing e-mail around about how "Eleven minus six equals five!! AUGH!! Run for your lives!!"

But speaking of, when my son was five years old we went to Destin for our summer vacation, and Paul was playing in the water. He was doing the usual walk up to the water as the waves recede, and then try to outrun them as they come ashore. When each wave came, he would yell, "Run for your lives!" But the really cute part was when he would walk back out, and say, "Whew! Walk for your lives...." To me, listening to the great things my kids think of to say is one of the major rewards of parenting.

Joanna strikes again

2005-11-04T22:04:00.000-06:00

I got a new ring today (a whopping $0.50 investment!), and Joanna calls it my "finger necklace." I love her little mind!!

Very thought-provoking meditation

2005-11-04T21:04:00.000-06:00

One of my very favorite websites is Catholic Exchange, which has articles on topics relating to the Catholic faith and daily life. These articles range from movie reviews, to pro-life issues, to tall tales. There was a meditational article today (by Robert Greving) on the effects of walking through a cemetery, and it was very moving. One of the more thought-provoking quotes:

When I see the tombstone of a man who died at my age, or 40, or
30, I think, “Was he ready?” Then I think, “Am I?”

There were others, but they are a little longer (although the entire article is less than two pages). A good read.

Woo Hoo! We have paragraph-age!

2005-11-02T18:14:00.000-06:00

My wonderful husband Mark helped me find the setting for "comverting line breaks."

So, NOW, if I type a new paragraph, it shows up!! Ta da!

View Earth from Space

2005-11-02T18:06:00.000-06:00

I found a cool website that lets you view the earth from any of the many satellites that are floating above our atmosphere.

It was really awe-inspiring to see the earth from so many different directions.

Another thought! I'm all tingly

2005-11-01T22:34:00.000-06:00

I send out daily quotes to my e-mail buddies, and I was indexing some past entries (can you say, "compulsive"?), and came across this one by Leon J. Suprenant, Jr., from the "Catholic Exchange" website":

Many who consider themselves Catholics believe they are justified in rejecting those teachings they don't agree with. Often there is an inadequate understanding of the Church's teaching, and unfortunately the Church's teaching on issues such as contraception or homosexuality is caricatured in the media. Yet, even the most honest and well-researched disagreement with the Church on an issue of faith or morals is problematic, because it involves replacing God's laws with our own private judgment.

This led me to think of another quote by Fr. Joseph Tagg, from a mini-retreat he gave:

We cannot trust our own understanding: one of the most crucial decisions of life
is to do something we do not understand SIMPLY BECAUSE GOD ASKS IT.

And it occurred to me that these two thoughts are related. When I first saw the quote from Fr. Tagg, I thought that it was in response to "doing" something that one didn't want to do, but if it is taken to mean "believing" something one didn't want to believe, that makes it a lot more powerful. Just think about how much more grace would be flowing through our world if people were obedient in this fashion. Wow.

And, by the way, I did use paragraphs on this entry, and typed them in on the actual "post" page instead of cutting and pasting. Let's see if my paragraphs finally show up! It's weird; when I hit "preview," the paragraph settings are there, but when I click "publish post" they disappear... Spooooooky!

It's a Romer thing, apple-parently

2005-11-01T21:43:00.000-06:00

Several weeks ago, my daughter (who is three years old) asked where we going one morning. I told her that we were headed to Bible Study, but I guess I didn't enunciate properly, because she got this big grin and said, "APPLE study? Yummy!!" She was really quite disappointed when I corrected her (although we did bring applesauce for a snack).

I thought that was just her cute little three-year-old brain substituting a more familiar word for a less familiar word, until this morning. I was on my way to Mass (and, yes, that IS a capital "M" - little "m" mass is a metric unit; big "M" Mass is the Lord's Sacrifice re-presented for the faithful.... but I digress), and I stopped at a red light next to a truck. I saw the lettering on the side and thought, "Well, there's someone who has found an industry niche - 'Apple Warehouse.' Oh, wait! That's 'APPLIANCE Warehouse' - oops!!"

So, it must be a Romer thing, this apple fixation that we have. Hmmmm..

Does Anyone Know This One?

2005-10-26T20:13:00.000-05:00

My last two entries did not post with the paragraphs that I had typed, btu instead ran everything into one HUGE paragraph. Does anyone know how to make sure it posts WITH paragraphs? Thanks in advance!

It All Fits Together - Part Two

2005-10-26T19:56:00.000-05:00

My last entry apparently got cut off, so here is the sentence where it leaves off, with hopefully the rest of the comment:

…I have had an intimation during the last few years of my study into the Catholic faith, how often people over the last two thousand years have independently arrived at exactly the same points over and over and over again. Golly – like there was some unseen SPIRIT guiding all these different people to a TRUTH that doesn’t change…. Call me crazy, but that’s my thought.

And then, of course, there is the “coincidence” that I just “happened” to open that particular book which just “happened” to have a bookmark which was just “happened” to be on a topic that I was recently pondering. Again, I suppose that it may be possible that some dim little corner of my brain actually remembered that I had stopped at that part, and was subconsciously “reminding” me, but – to me – that sounds even more far-fetched than to think that some other guiding presence was interceding. I am pretty sure that the last time I read from that book was during Holy Week, when I had shingles and a fine case of exhaustion going. Given that I have actually forgotten my own husband’s name (and not just called him by some other name, either – I mean, I went to say *his* name and I came up with a total blank), I don’t see how I could possibly remember something as vague as a part of a book I hadn’t even read yet.

So my theory (and I think it is a good one) is that the Holy Spirit really is guiding us all to the same truth – if we are attentive enough to recognize it. And as I said earlier, this is not the only time I have noticed this phenomenon. I once did it myself, in fact. I had written this essay on the Lord’s Prayer, breaking it down phrase by phrase. Here I thought I was on the cutting edge, making a contribution to the faith for my brethren… And then I saw a book that had almost every point that I had made – and many more that I had not even thought of. AND it made reference to the Catechism, which had even MORE points, with quotes from Church Fathers across the ages. At first, I was annoyed that I had “wasted my time” on this, and a little humiliated at my small contribution in comparison to these great thinkers. But then I got to thinking a little more about it, and I was really excited and awed by how closely I had been able to match what had been settled over time as accepted doctrine.

Well. That wasn’t too bad for a first message. We’ll have to wait and see if another thought ever enters my head, so that I can write it down, too!! Won’t that be fun?

Have a wonderful day! Kathy Romer

It All Ties Together

2005-10-25T22:04:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday at Mass, the Gospel reading had Jesus being "tested" by the Pharisees - again. (Didn't these guys have anything better to do?) The question in particular was which was the greatest commandment, to which Jesus gives His wonderful "love of God" and "love of neighbor" response. Father Timby's homily (which he posts on his blog now, for those interested: http://fathervol.blogspot.com/) was very good, as usual, and has kept me thinking about the "love of God" and "love of neighbor" connections through the week. So it was in this frame of mind that the following incident occurred.

I am an avid book reader, and I keep books scattered around the house (and "scattered" is all too literal from a clutter standppoint) I pick them up at random to read from whatever point I left off. None of these are fiction, though; I have not yet mastered the art of being able to put down a fiction book without having read the entire thing... But I digress. Most of these books are devotional or theological in nature: prayer companions, meditations, and other books that have compact chapters that can be digested in bite-sized pieces.

The one that I happened to pick up tonight is by Cardinal Basil Hume, and is entitled "A Spiritual Companion." It has little snippets from various homilies of his, as well as a little prayer to go with each snippet, and a Bible verse. I opened the book to my bookmark, and the homily meditation was on - eerie musical theme - "Love of God and Love of Neighbor." It was neat to see how closely Cardinal Hume's words and Fr. Timby's words echoed and reinforced one another.

Of course, it is possible that Fr. T had recently read C. Hume's homily and merely incorporated bits of it into his own address, but I doubt it. I think it goes deeper than that. I send out daily quotes to my e-mail buddies, and I have had an intimation during the last few years of my study into the Catholic faith, how often people over the last two thousand years have independently arrived at exactly the%2

Kathy Romer's Rarely Used Blog

2005-10-23T17:48:00.000-05:00

I like to see, thank you, so I use large type. Of course, I don't know how to change the font size on the rest of my blog, so there's teeny type everywhere *else,* but I do what I can.