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About Me, books, ditching my smartphone, reading, self care, social media, technology

Want to become an awesome reader? Do these 5 things

January 28, 2019

I received a flurry of comments, emails, and DMs after the year-end book list I published in late December. There were plenty of thanks for the recommendations, but there were even more incredulous queries along the lines of how do you read that much? and Do your kids bathe, feed, and clothe themselves? And I haven’t finished a book since college!

Which I totally and completely understand. Reading for pleasure can seem like a tough row to hoe some seasons, especially when career demands are intense and babies are small and plentiful.

I really subscribe to the idea that reading, like any other skill or hobby, is something that waxes and wanes during different seasons in life. I don’t swim much in the winter when it gets dark at 5 pm and my kids have schoolwork, whining, and endless snacking to accomplish before bedtime. When the summer sun rides high until 8pm I can easily slip out to the gym once Dave gets home. Winter nights though, I’m more likely to be dreaming about slipping into bed myself by that point in the evening.

When the kids were younger and my sleep was more disrupted, I definitely did not read as much as I do now. Nursing required at least one hand, sometimes two, and I didn’t have an e-reader yet. It was much easier to prop open a laptop and stream some mindless content or better yet, alternate between staring dreamily into my baby’s eyes or vacantly into space. During my later babies’ early days with smartphones on the scene, I had to make an intentional choice to leave that phone somewhere else sometimes.

Now that everybody is sleeping through the night and still young enough to be abed by 9pm  – ahem, most nights. To hell with this Oregon Trail winter we’re having; thank God nobody is dying in a covered wagon. Instead they’re sucking down steroids in a house with a roof – I usually have at least an hour or two of open time in the evenings. Provided I’ve prayed already, packed the lunches, sent the emails, etc., I almost always choose to spend this time reading. And 10-14 hours of reading a week can add up to some big numbers over the span of a year.

Here are a few things I do in order to maximize my consumption of the written word:

1. Make your smartphone smarter: I know, I know…but my ongoing effort to break up with my smartphone is mired in the annoying reality of life in 2019. Do I need a smartphone to survive? Of course not. But life without one – like the summer before last – is more difficult than it needs to be. Our school communicates via a private email system, my office communicates via a chat app, my sense of direction functions via Google maps…anyway, I still have a phone that is smart. So I’ve hacked it a bit to make it smarter for me. I’ve done this by: removing all social media from my phone, decluttering the front screen to the bare minimum, hiding all communication apps (Voxer, Whatsapp, GroupMe, etc) in a separate folder on the last page, no work email, and refusing to download an app for anything unless it can’t be done in a browser (looking at you Whole Foods/Amazon discount).

When my phone is less interesting and less capable of distracting me, I am more likely to pick up whatever I happen to be reading in those lulls of activity during the day, be it in car line or standing at the counter stirring dinner and sipping a glass of wine.

The one thing I’ll probably do again this summer when my kids are home is delete my internet browser which makes the phone even stupider (and harder to use for mindless scrolling) but which is too tough to manage during the school year. I’ve done this every year for 3 summers now and it’s been really great for keeping me more engaged with my family, at least once I get through the horrifying lack-of-immediate-Google-ability detox of the first week. Shudder. My brain is melting.

Without the tempting glow of a tiny screen beckoning you to disappear for a little scrolling, you are now ready to:

2. Get an e-reader. I’ve been a loyal Kindle reader for about 7 years now, I think. It was an actual lifeline when we lived in Rome in 2013, still tethered to my library in the States and able to provide me with instantaneous digital content in my native tongue. I like Kindle because we already use Amazon for so much (thus hastening the decline of civilization as we know it) and because almost every book is available in Kindle format. It also has cross pollination with other Kindles in your family and other devices, so you can share titles with your spouse or kids and if you do find yourself in a pinch when you’re out and about but left your Kindle at home, you can download the Kindle app to your phone and pick up wherever you left off in your book. But don’t do this unless it’s an emergency, because reading on a phone is terrible for you.

I like the Kindle Paperwhite because of its eyeball-friendly display and its husband-friendly backlighting which makes it perfect for snuggling with under the covers without disturbing your bed partner’s sleep. It vaguely thrills me in the same way hiding with a flashlight and a paperback used to do at age 10.

An e-reader is also the ultimate budget-friendly way to read; other than the original cost of purchase, you can basically read everything you could ever want for free, minus your annual Amazon membership. I’m not sure how other e-readers stack up price-wise, but like I said, Jeff Bezos helps the wheels of our domestic economy turn, so we’re already paying for it. Also, don’t pay a crazy amount for one! I think Dave and I got both ours on Prime day or black Friday a few years ago for less than $60 apiece.

But don’t you spend money on books, Jenny? 90-something titles is a lot!

Au contraire, my friends. I spent possibly $50 on books this past year. Possibly. If there is an obscure title that pops up for book club unavailable in digital format, a title I just have to have in hardcover the moment it comes out (cough cough Michael O’Brien), or a friend publishing a new title, I’ll buy it. Otherwise? I’ll…

3. Use the library like a boss. Our library system is amazing. We have convenient locations, attractive and updated (if not beautiful) new buildings, and massive collections of titles. But I almost never check out books irl. If we go to the library, it’s either 100 degrees outside and the kids are home or I’m meeting a girlfriend for a government-sponsored playdate. I don’t go there to check out books, period.

I mean fine, sometimes I let the kids each grab a stack. Which I then spend the next several weeks repenting, finding titles sodden in the backyard, shredded in the baby’s mouth, stuffed under car seats and behind couches, etc. That is when we find all the titles. Books, like puzzles, live at the library for our family. At least for now.

But digital books? Oh, my friends, digital books are what I use to placate myself if ever I think too long and about bloated, wasteful government expenditure of my tax dollars. Digital books are my smug little secret, new release titles by the dozens filling up my hold request que, recommendations from friends or some erie algorithm hastily copy and pasted, waiting their turn in a notes app I continually update. Some months I might be reading $150 worth of brand spanking new releases, all without opening my wallet.

Some library districts might not be so generous or so response to digital title recommendations – almost every book I’ve ever suggested my library acquire, they have, save for a handful of older or explicitly Catholic titles – but did you know there are some library districts that grant non-resident library cards? Mind blown.

Of course, you don’t have to be an e-book apologist like me to work the library system. Turning your to-be-read wishlist into a physical hold request is almost as easy, if a little less convenient. If you don’t mind picking up and returning books irl, this is the option for you. Bonus: less time wandering the stacks and rolling the dice on a title that ends up being a dud, or trashy. Downside: less time wandering the stacks. And less likelihood of you picking up a title you might otherwise never lay eyes on.

4. Be intentional with your leisure time. Don’t let downtime just “happen” to you. If you want to become an enthusiastic reader, you have to be at least a little bit intentional about it in 2019. There will always be something to stream, a newsfeed to scroll, screens to watch, and noise to attend to. Gone are the days where you might pick up a book out of boredom or lack of options. You have limitless options, and boredom can be banished with a simple keystroke. If you’re going to read, you have to make time to do it and resist the siren song of passive consumption of entertainment.

Getting your oil changed? There’ll be a show playing in the waiting room, and possibly music, too. And unless you brought your current read or your Kindle along for the ride, you’re going to find yourself spending 35 minutes of your life learning all about high stakes extreme crab fishing. Ask me how I know.

Similarly, at night, if you don’t set parameters around your screen time and your plan for how you’ll unwind once your duties for the day are done, it’s all too easy to find yourself hopping on instagram for “just a minute” only to look up an hour later, bleary eyed and hunchbacked at the kitchen counter. Don’t ask me how I know.

Decide you want to use your fringe hours to read, and then prepare to be shocked when you can easily cruise through a book a week. No, you’re not necessarily a genius, you just got 10 hours of your time back by refusing to cede the precious resource of your attention span to an algorithm designed to be irresistibly captivating. So actually, maybe you are a genius.

Try it even for a month and see what happens. Cal Newport (author of Deep Work) has a forthcoming title called Digital Minimalism that is all about having agency in this area of our lives, evaluating each new piece of technology and each practice and asking if it truly serves us, and if so, assigning it designated space in our lives. Down with passive consumption and automated upgrades. Up with the thoughtful, intentional application of new trends and technologies in our lives.

5. Find a reading buddy. It could be a whole book club full of many buddies. It could just be the other users on Goodreads whose titles and reviews you peruse when looking for new reads. It could be your long lost bff from college who you commit to rekindling the flame with. Try this: pick a title, both of you get the book, download Voxer or some other voice messaging app, and spend a month reading and virtually discussing your pick, no set meetings or irl encounters necessary.

Reading is really fun. And you can do it on a train, you do it in the rain…you get the idea. And unlike many other hobbies and pursuits that may find themselves sidelined during different seasons of life, it’s something you can pursue whether you’re 5 or 95, provided you have the right glasses, I guess. So while I may not be able to get out and run a 4 miler right now (I want to say because snow, but really it’s because mombod. #cantdoitall), once my kids are down for the count tonight, I’ll be happily indulging in the luxury of opening to the current location in a good book.

About Me, book list, books, reading

The PG-rated book list you’ve been waiting for {what I read in 2018}

December 30, 2018

I started this post in November soooooo things are just swimming along for us as we round the bases to close out 2018. Here’s the recap: Christmas: we missed it. Bird flu, we have it. Norovirus: we had that, too. Lots of clorox wipes and bottles of ibuprofen under the Christmas tree, etc, etc.

Anyway, I’ve been reading a lot this year. Especially since cutting out social media browsing early in November, and more recently in between many middle of the night disruptions requiring new sheets and tylenol disbursements. I have more free time than I ever realized, though the discipline required to sit down with an in process book is a little more than what I’d grown accustomed to with scrolling.

Sometimes I’ll find myself putzing around the kitchen at 9:40 pm looking for something else to clean because I don’t quite feel like crawling into bed with a book, I’m too wired/tired to do my own writing, and I’ve removed that third option of the slump n’ scroll from the evening menu.

Jenny’s have-read list of 2018, in reverse chronological order: (p.s. these titles contain affiliate links from Amazon; if you order through a link, Jeff Bezos will give me a hay penny)

(I’ve kept the reviews uber concise and have also included, at the bottom, the unlucky titles I’ve abandoned for the time being because adulthood means not having to finish a book you start.)

The Obesity Code: 5 stars. Really great read, some fascinating stuff that backs up what I’ve experienced eating keto and dabbling in avoiding sugar.

Tell Me More: 3.5 stars. I really like her writing and this collection of essays was enjoyable, if somewhat depressing at times. Her life kind of reads heavy into “hot mess,” which, I mean, aren’t we all? But light on the redeeming qualities. Call me pollyanna, but I need some morally uplifting denouement in my written word. (I just found out there is literally a name for the kind of reading I gravitate towards: Up-lit. Nailed it.)

Delay, Don’t Deny: 3.5 stars. I’d like to give it more because it has some great information, but it’s so short and it’s written so casually that it didn’t feel worth the $9 purchase price. She extensively referenced Dr. Jason Fung, author of the Obesity Code, so if nothing else she pointed me to a great follow up read.

The Personality Brokers: 3.5 stars. Not the most pleasant reading, and investigative journalism just isn’t my favorite thing to curl up with. It’s definitely interesting and made me re examine a lot of the forgone cultural “truths” we embrace about sorting people, including ourselves, into different categories and types.

These is My Words: 5 stars. Riveting, a grown up version of Little House on the Prairie. I loved it.

Small Animals: Parenting in the Age of Fear 3.5 stars. Some good insights and interesting journalism but tiresomely cluttered by the author’s extreme liberal POV.

Waking Gods: Book 2 of the Themis Files 5 stars. LOVED this book.

Motherless, Fatherless and Childless: Solid 4 stars. Apocalyptic Catholic trilogy. Novelized exploration of the culture of death in full flower. I read these towards the end of the summer once it seemed the Church was in full meltdown and found them oddly comforting. Great character development and arresting content.

Only Human: Book 3 of the Themis Files  Not my favorite. High hopes for the final chapter in this trilogy, but book 2 was the standout in this series.

The Real Presence St. Peter Julian Eymard: 5 stars. Captivating spiritual content necessitating bite sized chunks and time for meditation. Plus the Kindle version is practically free right now.

Comfort and Joy by Kristin Hannah (dull and predictable but palatable for pre-Christmas bedtime reading)

Waiting for Christ, a collection of meditations for Advent by Bl. John Henry Newman, great read for this season.

Abba’s Heart by Neal Lozano. 4 stars. I’m a big fan of Lozano’s Unbound, and this book is a nice companion to the relational work that most of us need to do in our connection with God the Father.

In Sinu Jesu: 5 stars. best book I read all year, hands down. Will be re-reading it many times again, I can tell. Order a copy for your pastor ASAP.

Made for This: 5 stars. A must read for all women and anyone who does anything related to birth for a living. (Read: OBs, midwives, doulas, NFP instructors, lactation consultants, RNs, etc. Listen, I am firmly on Team Epidural and this was still such an essential read. Mary knocked it outta the part –  forgot to include this on the initial list because I read it as a physical book, and those are harder to keep track of than my cloud library 😉

Stranger and Sojourners and Eclipse of the Sun: 5 stars apiece. I re-read at least a couple Michael O’Brien books every year. I glean something new from his fiction each time I revisit it; I read once that he writes his first draft in front of the Blessed Sacrament, and it makes total sense when you sink into the depth of his prose.

The Smoke of Satan: 4 stars. Great, fast read. Was surprisingly balanced and level and gave lots of backstory about the present situation in the Church hierarchy. Docking it a star for having a clickbait title that will probably put a lot of people off from reading it. Highly recommend.

The Grace of Enough: 4 stars. I love reading books written by people I know – a solid read that delved into the necessity and beauty of creating an intentional family culture and taking the path of rejecting materialism in our extremely materialistic culture.

China Rich Girlfriend + Rich People Problems: 3.5 stars a piece. (books 2 and 3 of the Crazy Rich Asians trilogy – I saw the HILARIOUS movie in theaters so never read the book.) I like these books a lot; they were entertaining, fast paced, and really fun to read. There was a good amount of sexual content and infidelity and some mild cursing, but it wasn’t graphic, you know? I wish modern (well, most modern) fiction wasn’t so hypersexualized. It’s not crucial to the plot and it ends up being distracting and embarrassing and keeping me from finishing and/or recommending a lot of books. This one really was on the tamer side, but it was more quantity over quality, and just had general themes of immorality and secularism.

Leota’s Garden: 3 stars. Guys, I went on a really embarrassing Francine Rivers kick this past year and read basically everything she’s ever written. Her “Mark of the Lion” trilogy is far and away her best work, and gets a solid 5 stars and will probably be worth re-reading in the future. Her other books, like this one, are uplifting, entertaining, captivating, and good. Not great, by any stretch of the imagination, but good. Think Hallmark movies, but more moral. And almost as saccharine in moments. Not all her books are sugary sweet, but this one was.

Her Mother’s Hope + Her Daughter’s Dream: 5 stars. Some disturbing content dealing with child abuse in the first book, but a really enjoyable and historically captivating set of books about the complications of mother daughter relationships. Squeaky clean but not saccharine.

People of the Second Chance: 3 stars? 2.5 maybe. I’m putting this one in the same category as GWYF (though Goff’s theology is vastly superior to Hollis’), and books like Present Over Perfect. I don’t really get this entire genre, so maybe it’s me and not them? It had a good heart, but it was written at like a 6th grade level and sounded more bloggy than a blog, if that makes sense?

Pachinko: 4.5 stars. Guys I LOVED this book, but there was sexual content for sure. Not graphic and sort of matter of factly written, if that makes sense? Such a richly textured and fascinating novel.

Mark of the Lion trilogy: A voice in the wind (5 stars) An echo in the darkness (4 stars) As sure as the dawn (4 stars) I absolutely adored these books, but especially the first one. A fascinating and inspiring historically inspired read of early Christianity with beautifully developed characters.

Codependent No More: LOL. 3.5 stars? I honestly don’t remember much of this one. A friend told me “everyone needs to read this book” and so I did, and she was probably right. She also confessed that telling someone they needed to read it was in and of itself codependent behavior.

The Four Tendencies: 3.5 stars. I’m a bit of a Gretchen Rubin junkie. This was neither her best nor worst work. I can’t remember what, specifically, wasn’t great about it, but it hasn’t stuck with me the way The Happiness Project did.

Reading People: 3 stars, fairly meh. I’ve read a lot of books about temperaments and personality theories, so there was nothing in here that was new information to me. (Skipped the Enneagram chapter bc I’m pretty skeptical that stuff jives with Christianity.)

What We Were Promised : 3.5 stars. Interesting and engaging read but unremarkable characters. I struggled to remember what this one was about.

I’ll Be Your Blue Sky: 4 stars. Compelling and occasionally difficult subject matter. I really like Marisa de los Santos’ writing.

One Beautiful Dream: 5 stars. Loved this book. A must read for pretty much everybody, not just moms.

Crossing to Safety: 5 stars. My first foray with Wallace Stanger, it won’t be my last.

The Spender’s Guide to Debt Free Living: I honestly don’t remember this one so I’m going to assume it was a solid 2.5 stars.

The Drama of the Gifted Child: 2.5 stars. Really interesting for the first 60% (sorry, I read mostly on Kindle) and then it got vv weird and Freudian.

The Widows of Malabar Hill: 5 stars. I love India and books about India, and especially books about women in India. Clever writing and a surprising plot twist.

Goodbye, Vitamin: 3 stars. A bittersweet (mostly bitter) memoir-esque retelling of an adult child’s coping with a parent’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis and the relational fallout from the disease progression and the brutal honesty it can bring.

The Last Sin Eater: Another Francine Rivers situation. 4 stars.

The Atonement Child: and another. 3.5 stars.

The Masterpiece: and yet another. 3.5 stars.

Educated: A Memoir: 4 stars. Really disturbing and really captivating.

Finish:Give Yourself the Gift of Done: 4 stars. I listened to Jon Acuff on the Dave Ramsey show back when I had a commute, and I like the guy. This was a good reminder that it’s the little daily habits which add up to big wins.

Anxious for Nothing 3.5 stars. I don’t think I’d ever read an adult Max Lucado book. It was decent. A good little primer for combating anxiety with Biblical wisdom, not in a “think yourself well” vein, but in a truly helpful application of Scripture to daily life.

Adrenal Fatigue: 3 stars. Read like a very long Web MD article.

The Adrenal Thyroid Revolution: Slightly less WebMD-ish.

The Adrenal Reset diet: 3 stars. (LOLOL) turns out having a fifth baby in 6 years will make you vv tired. Also, some hormone stuff that changing up my diet to very low sugar/high fat/low processed foods has helped tremendously with fatigue.

Girl, Wash Your Face: 1.5 stars. I can’t handle the popularity of this book. It was everything self referential and disappointing about millenials with no redeeming qualities that I could discern except for, I guess, her massive Instagram following? Think banal health and wealth gospel + some Christianity flavored seasoning sprinkled on top to get on the right book club lists.

The Scarlet Thread: 4 stars. Another Franny title. I enjoyed the way she toggled between frontier days and modern time (well, the ninetes) with this title.

Lineage of Grace Series: Second to lasts dance with Francine. 4 stars for creativity with biblical content without being offensive. Definitely has helped me read the stories of the Old Testament – particularly the female protagonists – with new eyes.

Sons of Encouragement series: ditto, but featuring men of Old Testament.

The Hideaway: 2.5 stars. For as long as I had to wait on my library’s digital hold list, I expected this book to be better than a mediocre Hallmark movie. Alas, it was not.

Meet the Frugalwoods: 4 stars. Enjoy their blog and found this read pleasantly comprehensive of all her writing there without being overly repetitive. I’m never going to give up living in the suburbs or living with electric heat, but I still find their frugality fascinating and inspiring. Worth the read.

The Perfect You: 2 stars. I didn’t love this book because just as I was getting into it, it become a sort of personality inventory/scoring device and as I was reading on a Kindle, I was not about to start filling it out.

Flyaway: Kristin Hannah, but I literally remember nothing. So, 2 stars for that?

Night Road: I like Kristin Hannah but I don’t think I like like her like so many people do. This novel was darker but not unbearably so. About partying teenagers and the life-altering consequences of youthful misjudgement.

Distant Shores: 3 stars. And another Kristin Hannah title that I don’t remember much about.

Kisses from Katie: 5 stars. It will change your life.

Daring to Hope: 4 stars. The follow up to Kisses from Katie. It wasn’t as authentic or compelling or convicting to me, for whatever reason. Still a good read.

Gilead: 4.5 stars. Luminous prose and an unexpected perspective was employed by the writer. I was shocked to discover that this book was written not 100 years ago, but is actually rather contemporary.

Living Your Strengths: 3 stars. Not life changing or anything, the way I found the Highly Sensitive Person or the Temperament God Gave You to be. Just another personality indicator/type predictor.

A Year of Less: 2.5 stars. I love budget memoirs and I cannot lie. This one was okay. Also she lives alone, so being frugal is just not that impressive to me in those circumstances.

A Spender’s Guide to Debt Free Living: 3 stars. Can you tell I go on topical benders, too?

Small Admissions: 3 stars. Moderately entertaining, especially her descriptions of the terrible parents of the prep school babies she manages.

My Life in France: 4 stars. Julia Child was fascinating and before her time, though her writing drags in places.

Dark Matter: 5 stars. I do not love physics, but gosh did I love this book. Read it, you won’t be sorry.

Leia, Princess of Alderaan. 4 stars. I loved this Star Wars fan fic, and my 13 year old self won’t let my 36 year old self pretend otherwise.

Joy to the World3.5 stars. A new-t0-me Scott Hahn title. I’ve read most of his work and had him as a teacher for several years, so there was nothing new here for me, but still a concise and beautiful little book, especially during the Christmas season.

Chestnut Street 3.5  stars. Some sexuality and anti Catholicism. I went on a real tear with this author for the next couple weeks, as evidenced by:

The Return Journey: 3 stars. Did I mention when I “discover” a new to me author, I binge on them? For example:

Minding Frankie: 3 stars. Yep.

A Week in Winter: 3 stars. Yep again.

A Few of the Girls: 3 stars. At this point It was safe to say that I was on a serious Irish chick lit kick. This particular title collection of moderately entertaining short stories with a decidedly anti Catholic bent (written in Ireland in the nineties so I totally get that.)

Circle of Friends: 2.5 stars for moral relativism and being depressing as hell, and for starting me down the road of earnestly questioning the wisdom of continuing to read Miss Binchy.

Tara Road: 3.5 stars. I finally quit Maeve after this one (don’t you just love that name though?) when I admitted to myself that her virulent anti Catholicism and secular sexual morality was affecting my non-Teflon soul. I know some people say they can read anything and let the bad stuff just slide off their backs, but I’m not one of those people. I can’t handle steamy, suggestive and overly graphic sex scenes and I can’t stomach the reality-defying moral relativism of the bulk of modern pop fiction.

The Comfort Food Diaries: I honestly don’t remember this one, so I’m giving it 2.5 stars for being unremarkable. My bff is very into food memoirs, which I totally get, but they usually involve tortured childhoods and resultant adult trauma – at least the ones I’ve read – which kind of stresses me out as a highly sensitive person with tons of little kids at home.

L’appart: I love travel/living abroad memoirs, and this one is definitely that. The author is a little vulgar and a pretty negative guy, but it’s still a good read and gave me some pangs of panic as I thought back to anything home improvement related during our year in Rome.

A Million Junes: 3.5 stars. Moderately well written YA lit.

The Garden of Small Beginnings: 3 stars. Cute, but kind of dull and unremarkable.

Little Fires Everywhere: 3 stars, disappointing treatment of teen pregnancy and abortion that could have been such a great opportunity to deviate from the typical/predictable Planned Parenthood storyline, especially given the character development in this book.

The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down: 5 stars. A completely fascinating exploration of the intersection between different cultures, faiths, and medical science.

Currently reading: Alone Time, This Will Only Hurt a Little (had to bail on this one last night, but I’m SO glad I happened upon a transformative memory she has of JPII before I did. I really like this book, but it’s very, very graphic in parts and I just couldn’t hang), Dopesick, and The Lido.

Abandoned list: either they were boring, trashy, poorly written, depressing, wrong book at the wrong time, or just wildly off the mark for me in some other way. Recording them for posterity’s sake in case I want to revisit a future title – I’m looking at you, Wendell Berry and Julian Fellows

A Quiet Life in the Country, Belgravia, Becoming Mrs. Lewis, Rich Mom, Smart Mom, This is How it Always is, Far from the Tree, Bootstrapper, The Well Educated Mind, The Red Tent, Elinor Oliphant, The Betrothed, Beauty in the World, The Dictator Pope, The Glass Castle, Jaybar Crow, Names for the Sea, Number One Chinese Restaurant, I Feel Bad About my Neck, Under the Volcano, Tell Me Three Things, Becoming Mrs. Lewis, Start with Why

Whew, that’s a lot of books! How do I achieve these numbers? I’ve found the secret to success is as follows: bring my Kindle everywhere, cut out social media, don’t watch tv (except the occasional football game and medicinal Hallmark movies) and commit to having really no other hobbies. For example, I’ve struggled mightily to get into podcasts because, well, I’d rather be reading. So I read. Go with what works, I guess.

I also recommend having a bunch of kids and then using a solid hour + of solitary reading each night after bedtime to recover from your day with them.

Hope you find a gem to carry you through the rest of Christmas break, cheers!

 

reading

A booklist that won’t make you blush

November 18, 2017

Lately I’ve been throwing my Kindle across the room in frustration (ask Dave) when I get about, mmm, 30% of the way into a book – and sometimes it’s a legitimately intriguing book! – only to get blindsided by a graphic sex scene. I’m not talking heaving bosoms and carefully laced corsets, but straight up graphic, line-by-line descriptions that read like porn scripts. Like, if these scenes were adapted to film, they’d be rated R at least, and possibly X.

I don’t check out obscure, bondage fetish literature either. This is mainstream, NYT bestseller’s list, such-and-such blogger’s book club recommendation stuff. And I look around and I think, I can’t be the only one freaked out by this.

Particularly in light of the damning cultural moment which we presently find ourselves in, I would like to move as far away from sexually compromising content as possible. But you know? Sometimes I don’t feel like reading 400 year old British literature. Or even 100 year old stuff. I don’t want to resign myself to reading subpar Christian fiction, either, which, if I may be frank, I find generally lacking in skill and imagination. Nor do I always feel compelled to read some hefty theological treatise on the Sacraments.

So, what’s a girl to do?

I’m a voracious reader, so with the help of my handy Amazon borrowing history, I thought I’d share a list of the titles I’ve read in 2017 which I would enthusiastically recommend to a friend. And if you have anything you’d like to recommend right back? Please, I’m about to have hours and hours of late night time on my hands and I’m all e-ears.

I’ve tried to break these into rough categories for your convenience, but a fancy book blogger I am not, so consider yourself warned:

Fiction lite (suitable for beach, plane ride, or mindless late-night consumption*)

  • Everything written by Rosamunde Pilcher, but especially: “The Shell Seekers,” “Winter Solstice,” and “Coming Home.”

I discovered her during my first trimester of sloth and nausea and I swear she held my hand and walked me through the long, hot summer. After the first two books I was like, “oh my gosh, I’ve discovered modern fiction that is good and not super slutty but isn’t stilted and weird and baptized by having been run through some kind of media filter that sucks all the soul of the story.” And then I discovered she wrote all her books like, 20-40 years ago and I was like, “oh.” I’m an old soul. And she’s 93 and still alive in UK, so I guess she is, too. Just go ahead and read everything she has ever written and love your life.

  • The Secret Keeper, The Lakehouse, The House at Riverton, The Distant Hours, and The Forgotten Garden: Kate Morton

I love anything Kate Morton has ever written. These novels are the perfect blend of captivating character development and sharp writing. I’d put them on par with Downton Abbey in terms of keeping you intrigued in the story line and progression of the characters lives. She occasionally delves into the split timeline/flashback technique to advance the narrative, but in my opinion, doesn’t over use it. Highly recommend.

  • Within the Walled City: Virginia Evans

Study abroad fictional memoir set in Florence, Italy. Honestly, what else do you need to know? If you love travel/food books but don’t necessarily want to read a straight up memoir, this one’s for you.

  • A Portrait of Emily Price

Sweet, quick-reading, and not too racy. Actually, not much dirt at all, if I’m remembering right. Just the kind of thing for airport reading or a late-night nursing session.

  • What Alice Forgot – Liane Moriarty

An enjoyable offering from this author (and rare for its relative absence of gratuitous sex n violence). The storyline splits between the past and present in a creative and captivating way.

Aspirational self improvement/business memoirs/human interest:

  • Capital Gaines – Chip Gaines

The Fixer Upper backstory, from the male perspective. Either Chip can actually write or his ghostwriter really nailed his voice, but this proved to be an engaging and enjoyable read.

  • The Magnolia Story (is my HGTV freak flag flying high enough?) – Joanna Gaines

And her side of the story, more narrowly focused on the interpersonal details and the spiritual aspects of discernment in their journey. If his is the nuts and bolts side of the story, hers is the heart and soul.

  • The Gratitude Diaries: How a year of looking on the bright side can transform your life – Janet Kaplan

In the style of Gretchen Reuben, but pleasantly less research-y (Though perhaps not quite as insightful for it).

  • Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age – Sherry Turkel

This book is a sobering, somewhat terrifying and absolutely essential read for any human being living in the 21st century.

  • The Highly Sensitive Child – Elaine Aron

She does a good job capturing the nuances of parenting a child who is wound a little “differently,” and makes some interesting observations about human nature. The philosophy/psychology gets a little weird in places, but that’s to be expected without a firm sense of a Christian anthropology.

  • Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World – Cal Newport

This book was a huge impetus behind my decision to scale back on my social media presence and ditch my smartphone (thought that’s not going as well as it was over the summer. Still 100% social media free on the phone though, so I’m counting that as progress.) This book is a powerfully necessary read for the modern age and very engagingly written.

  • When Breath Becomes Air – Paul Kalanithi

Gripping, honest, sad, and beautiful. The author chronicles his own journey with terminal lung cancer. A medical doctor with a surprisingly philosophical and poetic soul.

  • Reading People – Anne Bogel

Bogel’s (of Modern Mrs. Darcy fame) first work, this was an engaging study in various personality inventories and delved a bit into the interpretation of personality theory. I particularly liked her section on the Myers Briggs. (Note: I skipped the chapter on the Enneagram because I’m not convinced that it is harmless).

  • Present over Perfect – Shauna Niequist

I wanted to love love this book, because that’s how I felt about her earlier work, “Bread and Wine,” but it wasn’t quite as engaging. I still gleaned some good stuff from her (occasionally relentless) introspection, particularly her observations on work/life balance and a really poignant and painful depiction of burnout as a mom.

World War II novels set somewhere in Europe:

  • In Farleigh Field – Rhys Bowen

Had a distinctive Downton Abbey vibe, which I found appealing. Dave read it first and convinced me I’d like it too, which I did.

  • Beneath a Scarlet Sky – Mark T. Sullivan

A little grittier than I’d typically tend towards, but not in an inappropriate or unwarranted way. Set in Italy, which is a nice change of pace for a genre that seems obsessively set in either Britain or France.

  • All the Light We Cannot See: Anthony Doerr

I’m pretty sure I actually read this one 2 years ago, but it is a masterpiece and was utterly worth paying full cover price for the hardback and eminently worthy of the Pulitzer it garnered Doerr. (Also, be sure to check out his earlier work, “Four Seasons in Rome” a travel memoir of his study abroad year in the Eternal City with his wife and twin baby boys.)

  • Everyone Brave is Forgiven – Chris Cleave

A little rough around the edges in parts, but a good read. Not remarkable enough to differentiate itself substantially from the other books in this genre, but a worthy addition to the list if you love WWII novels.

  • The Nightingale – Kristin Hannah

Oh my gosh, how many books about WWII did I read in 2017?? I guess …a few. This one was probably second best only to “All the Light,” but quite a bit sadder, if I’m remembering correctly.

YA Lit that won’t make you want to scratch your eyes out: 

  • Echo – Pam Munoz Ryan

Mildly engaging. I wouldn’t call it un-put-down-able by any means, but it was a passable read with an interesting twist. It won a 2016 Newberry Honor.

  • Wonder – Rachel J. Palacio

This book lives up to the hype surrounding it, and I’m interested to see the film adaptation. I really appreciated how well the author captured – and maintained – the innocence of early adolescence while still addressing the brutal and nasty pieces without delving into unnecessary sexualization or precociousness of the characters. Not easy to do.

  • When Dimple Met Rishi – Sandhyi Menon

Cute, engaging, not too serious and not too slutty. I dated a lot of engineers in college, for some reason, so this book kind of took me back. Plus, I just love Bollywood.

  • The Selection trilogy and The Heir – Kiera Cass

I’m embarrassed. But whatever. I read them all and if you like/d the Bachelor/ette and the Hunger Games, well, these are the books for you. Don’t judge me.

Religious/Spiritual reads:

  • Waking the Dead – John Eldredge

This guy is Catholic lite, whether or not he realizes it. He has a firmer grasp on spiritual warfare and the reality of the presence of God – and of evil – in the world, than most Catholic or Christian writers I’ve read. Take him with a grain of salt because he’s Protestant, but he has some great content on discernment and cultivating a relationship with God.

Also great:

  • Walking with God – John Eldredge
  • Fathered by God – John Eldredge

 

  • The Family that Overtook Christ – M. Raymond

Hard to find (I subscribed to Kindle Unlimited for a trial month so I could read it) but it’s a fascinating story of the family of St. Bernard of Clairvoux and the reform of the monastic orders of his time period. 2 enthusiastic thumbs up for this and his subsequent title, “Three Religious Rebels.”

  • Lord of the World – Robert Hugh Benson

I can’t emphasize enough how essential this read is to every Catholic – or every human being – who is currently alive. Rumored to be Pope Francis’ favorite novel (and one he has read half a dozen times) I’ll definitely be reading it again in another couple months.

  • The Benedict Option – Rod Dreher

Guys, just read this book. I’m still scratching my head over the infighting over this one. If you are judging the work on its own merits (which is how I believe books should be evaluated) and not dragging everything Dreher has ever written in his entire life into your calculus, it’s actually a fantastic, inspiring, and deeply practical read.

  • Out of the Ashes – Anthony Esolen

Honestly? This one’s better than Dreher’s. Esolen has a devastatingly sharp mind and a profound grasp of reality. Worth the extra brainpower it requires in terms of vocabulary and attention span (spoken as a dead tired mom).

  • Strangers in a Strange Land – Archbishop Charles J. Chaput

Speaking of needing some intellectual chops to digest the content, this is one of those. I’m still making my way through the last 30% of this book, but am confident it’s not going to derail into insanity, so I recommend it with unbridled enthusiasm.

  • God or Nothing – Robert Cardinal Sarah

If you disregard all of my recommendations and take a single book from this list, let it be this one. Trust me.

  • The Christian Meaning of Human Sexuality – Paul M. Quay, S.J. (edited by Joseph Koterski, S.J)

This book is phenomenal. I’m about 2/3 of the way through it and just so deeply engaged by the material. He reminds me of a way, way more accessible JPII in terms of his grasp on married love and human sexuality. There is an updated chapter on NFP that I haven’t gotten to yet, but that alone was what convinced me that I absolutely had to get my hands on this book.

  • The Holy Spirit, Fire of Divine Love – Fr. Wilfrid Stinissen

A beautiful meditation on the role of the Holy Spirit in the Christian life, and with practical guidance on how to cultivate a relationship with Him. It’s a slim little volume that makes a great prayer time read and can be picked up and read at random. It’s one of my go-to spiritual books now, in the vein of “Imitation of Christ” or “Introduction to the Devout Life.”

Nonfiction:

  • Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis  J.D. Vance 

A must read for any Steubenville grad (Ohio River Valley represent). This was a sad, fascinating, simultaneously hopeful and hopeless look at generational poverty in rural America/Appalachia.

  • $2.00 a Day: Living on Almost Nothing in America – Kathryn J. Edin and H. Luke Shaefer

Self explanatory and deeply sad. I couldn’t put it down.

Fiction:

  • A Man Called Ove – Fredrik Backman

I loved this book. I loved its weirdness, its foreign cadence (the author is Swedish), and its dark and unexpected humor. The movie fell far short of the original, but perhaps the remake will deliver. I read it first and then handed it over to a skeptical Dave with a glowing recommendation. He ended up loving it, too.

  • The Last Days of Night – Graham Moore

Historical fiction (but don’t yawn! Promise.) depicting the battle to electrify America. It’s a novelized telling of the adversarial and occasionally collaborative geniuses of Thomas Edison and Nikola Tesla. This was another one the husband read first and passed along, and I really enjoyed it.

  • The End of the Affair – Graham Greene

Can’t believe this was on my “to read” list for so many years, but glad I finally took the plunge. Dark and gritty at times but not without purpose, if that makes sense? Not a book that could be written in 2017, due to a lack of both imagination and delicacy.

Borderline recs (proceed with caution depending upon sensitivity):

  • Small Great Things – Jodi Piccoult

This was a hard read. A fair amount of graphic violence – but not unnecessary, which makes a big difference, in my book (ba dum ching). I thought certain stereotypes/literary techniques were a bit overwrought, but the author was intentionally belaboring the point to get our attention. And it worked.

  •  The Bookshop on the Corner – Jenny Colgan

I was super enjoying this book and then, I kid you not, it got reaaaaaaaal raunchy for about 3 minutes at the end. Like, so abruptly that I thought my Kindle had freaked out and opened another book by mistake. If you can skim past the questionable stuff that barrels out of left field in the very end, it was a charming little novel that I’d have liked to include in my”Fiction Lite” category.

  • Truly, Madly, Guilty – Liane Moriarty

I want to love her stuff, because she’s a talented writer, but she really likes to sprinkle in the raunchy sex scenes. This book almost avoids that entirely, and ends up being what I’d categorize as an engaging lite mystery thriller. Also I’m 90% sure she was raised Catholic, so she just can’t help herself with the self-effacing references to Catholic guilt.

  • The Year of Living Danishly – Helen Russell

I loooooved this book. I’m a sucker for self-chronicled cultural immersion documentaries, and she did a fantastic job narrating her year in Denmark. (However, there is an entire chapter you can skip right over. And you’ll know which one it is when you get there.)

  • Before We Visit the Goddess – Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

I can’t remember why I’m putting this one in the “recommends with reservation” category except, oh, actually, now I do remember, it’s the gay neighbor whose relationship is delved into with a bit of unnecessary detail, plus some domestic violence. But if you love India like I do, you’ll enjoy this one.

  • Sleeping Giants –  Sylvain Neuvel

This was deliciously weird sci-fi with the most intriguing plot twist. There is a smattering of dull, unnecessary raunch (extra-marital sex) but the book is too good to miss.

And there you have it: the titles that made the cut to the “yeah, you should read this” list in my literary wanderings over the past year. I’m going to leave this as a living document of sorts and plan to update it with new reads as I review them, so hopefully it becomes a helpful resource and perhaps even a good Christmas gift guide.

*not responsible for lost sleep resulting from addictive page turning nature.

 

About Me, reading

Slumpish and bookish

May 17, 2017

As in, slumped on the couch, writing slump, summer not in any hurry to arrive and weather still rainy and 50 ish degrees out. Just slumping, all around.

I’ve been a bit absent the past couple weeks, between kid wrangling and house hunting and a quick little jaunt out to California where I got to hug thee Blythe Fike in person (and Michaela and Jenna and Erica and an entire assembly of their lovely local crew. But my favorite new friend is definitely Augustine Darr.)

It was a lovely, short weekend and the first time we’ve successfully left the kids for longer than a quick overnight in the mountains AND I didn’t freak out. Didn’t allow a single freak-accident-leads-to-death scenario to play out in my brain. Just slept (but not enough), read on the beach (but it was cold. Whimper.) and rode cruiser bikes by the ocean like the fine tourists that we were. Already dreaming of doing something similar next year, but maybe in Florida because I like my beaches to sizzle. Though Ventura, where we spent most of our time, is beautiful.

Aside from that though, I haven’t actually been all that busy. At least with anything I can show for the effort put in, but I feel as if I’m standing on the cusp of that mysterious season where great mom bloggers disappear into a 10 year vortex of homework assignments and late nights with wakeful kids who need to talk and endless loads of laundry and suddenly the hours that were available to write each day are sucked away into the absence of nap time and the presence of phonograms.

Not that I’m down for the count, yet, but just that I really (ha) expected the pace to slacken as the kids get older and instead it’s exponentially intensifying. Dave calls the dinner to bedtime shift “the treadmill” because once you get on, the pace doesn’t ease up until the program is complete.

He’s not wrong.

I have also just felt so blah about writing lately. It seems that there’s someone already saying everything there is to say, and my desire to add to the conversation has vanished. Maybe it’s the reduced amount of social media I’m consuming or the absence of adult conversation most days but I just feel like a battle wearied dullard with no further comment.

I just want to hug my babies and take a nap. And find a house to live in. We’re closing in on month 3 of what I naively believed to be a temporary (super temporary!) and extremely generous arrangement, living in a friend’s home while they work overseas. Their house is lovely and the kids are happy to have a new set of toys to play with and we’re so fortunate to not be in the insane rental market, but we’ve seen 20 houses in the last week and a half alone, and it’s just a depressing and grueling process. That we, um, did last summer. Determined not to panic myself into a case of shingles this go round. But it is unpleasant. Speaking of unpleasant, Luke just unscrewed and harvested several peppercorns from the grinder and is now dragging his tongue  across the floor soooo…we’re firing on all cylinders this morning.

What are your plans for the summer? My kids are out in 2 weeks and I’ve got a wide open calendar absent of even a single swim lesson. Do you plan things meticulously and schedule out month by month, or just kinda roll with it? Last year the 2 oldest had swim lessons for a month and it was great (for them) and kind of a pain (for the rest of us) so I’m a little wary of repeating the experience. I’ve also let my fantastic and beloved mother’s helper go, since she’s about 45 minutes away and doesn’t drive. So call me Ma Ingalls, but I’ve got to get on the ball and get some summer scheduled up in here.

I have read some great books the past month or so. My favorite fiction of the bunch was “Within the walled city” which I devoured in 36 hours, thanks to time on the plane. I’m also loving “The family that overtook Christ” (thanks, Julie!) which was preceded by the excellent “Three religious rebels.” I had to sign up for Kindle unlimited to access them, because they’re out of print and I didn’t want to pay a million bucks for the e version. (But both were free with unlimited!) I’m working through a great (albeit disturbing) novel right now about a doctor falling on the wrong side of the euthanasia issue, “Do no harm” by Fiorella de Maria. It’s tightly written and engaging but disturbing because it’s a little too true to life. I also enjoyed a light, quick little read by a new author, Carolyn Astfalk, who reached out to me and said based on my blog bio, I might just be her target audience. Dave Matthews Band + Theology of the Body. If you can believe it, she managed to weave both those concepts into a sweet, readable love story called “Stay with me” (spoiler alert: every chapter is also the name of a Dave Matthews single. Loved it.)

Right now I’m delving into “The highly sensitive child” and learning all about my little melancholic weirdo who memorizes life in all it’s exquisite detail, while concurrently reading the 2 mentioned above plus “Hannah Coulter” (my pathetic suburban library finally coughed up a copy 8 months after I first started asking). Any good titles caught your attention lately? I’m all eyes. For all my plaintive cries of “no time” I do seem to have enough to read a lot more now that the phone is out of commission. Especially in carline.

About Me, coffee clicks, reading, technology

Weekend clickbait + a few good books (and seeking reading recommendations)

April 21, 2017

Working on some far more interesting stuff to regale you with next week, but for now the combination of nap-boycotting babies and a few extra nephews running around has my writing brain turned into mush for the day. Plus, did I mention I went off coffee to experiment with getting a better handle on energy levels/insomnia? Color me sheepish. As one intrepid reader pointed out on Facebook, #mamaneedsdecaf. Which is accurate. (and which is also gross. High hopes for some of the recommendations you guys left me this morning.)

Anyway, I’ve read a couple great pieces this week that I wanted to pass along, and one interview that YOU ALL MUST WATCH – play it in another browser if it doesn’t open in Safari for you. Thanks to Hallie (who was also kind enough to invite me onto her Sirius XM show yesterday – link coming soon) for bringing it to my faltering attention.

And this one. Okay, yeah, I know it’s an ad campaign (and those granola bars, from what I recall from my swim team days, are terrible. Not a hint of chocolate) but it is a poignant truth they hit upon. I am always wracking my brain for ways to get my kids to do stuff outside, even when the weather isn’t great, and I realize that a lot of what keeps me turning to PBS Kids is that I don’t want them to mess up the house or get dirty. Which is sick. I’m really trying to be more intentional about giving them direction to play messily, independently, and boisterously outside, and not clenching my cheeks in terror when they scramble up a tree or jump a fence to grab a ball. Or jump into the wading pool filled with melting ice and mud. With shoes on. I will say that as I detach more and more from my phone and from the endless consumption of entertainment (even if, as is often the case for us grown ups, we cleverly disguise it from ourselves as “news” or “research”) I have more authority to refer them back outside, or down to the basement. Or … you get the picture. Because I also am reading something or mopping something or prepping dinner or helping another kid, so I don’t lack all credibility in their eyes, waving them off with my eyes glued to my phone, telling them and myself that mommy needs a break.

I’ve been reading more these past 3 weeks because, sorry dead horse, gonna hit you one more time, I HAVE TIME. It just still feels kind of miraculous. I have time to read, to write for pleasure, to write for deadlines, and to make dinner. Okay the last one is a lie, but that’s just because cooking is not my favorite. Give me all the laundry and vacuuming and take all my meal prep and dishes.

A few good titles:

The Year of Living Danishly. I’m a huuuuuge sucker for cultural immersion memoirs. Heck, I might write one myself one day. And this one did not disappoint. There are some nasty details about the sexual habits of the author’s new countrymen, but if you can skim past the grosser parts (mostly in one chapter, you’ll know it when you get there) this book was a fascinating look at a part of the world I know very little about. It was also a sobering glimpse into a completely secularized state, and the ensuing effects on the family, mental health, and child development. Without meaning to, the author painted a fairly grim picture of Scandinavia in those regards. But a really enjoyable book overall. Made me want to go to IKEA and start fresh with white walls and bleached pine floors and so many candles.

Waking the Dead. This is one of John Eldridge’s lesser known titles (at least I’d never heard of it) but it is spectacular. I would put it on a must read list of modern Christian writing, along with Unbound and Be Healed.

The Benedict Option. You know the one – that book that everyone is talking about without having read it first? Yeah, you’re gonna want to read this one for yourself, and then form your own opinions. I found Dreher to be surgically precise in his assessment of the cultural climate, and it was not at all what I was expecting from him. Plus, he interviews one of my all time favorite bloggers in it, and spends a good deal of time talking about Italy and Italians. What’s not to like?

The Magnolia Story. Hi, I’m a sucker for the Gainses. Can’t stop, won’t stop. It’s a sweet book, and Jojo was, at one time, more neurotic than I’d ever imagined. Which gives me hope. 4 stars.

Okay, so apparently I don’t read fiction. Haha. I just have the hardest time finding something that doesn’t blow up in my face with a gruesome murder plot or lascivious sex scene a quarter of the way into the book. I’ve learned that there’s actually a thing for what I am, I’m an HSP, and therefore, I can’t handle violence (especially sexual violence) or intense sex scenes or anything – definitely anything – involving a child’s death/kidnapping/torture.

So, at least I know I’m not alone in my crazy. But I am rather alone in my pickings from modern fiction. I’ve read pretty much everything on the best seller’s lists that fits into my scrawny little acceptable category, at least I think, but if you’d got something besides the past two year’s glut of WWII bestsellers or Miss Prim, I’m all ears.

Have a great weekend!

And hey, we’re still within the Octave, so Happy Easter!

About Me, Catholic Spirituality, house reno, Life in Italy, reading, Traveling with Children

7 quick takes: oldschool

September 2, 2016

Remember when blogging was just basically long Facebook statuses? And bloggers wrote about mundane minutia and nothing was brand conscious or beautiful or filtered? Sometimes I miss those days. I think readers do too? I’m not saying I wish all blogging was still raw paragraphs and embarrassing fonts and sparkle GIF signatures, but it is nice to revisit a simpler past from time to time. And I know I always love when my favorite bloggers write day in the life kind of stuff. So, without further ado, some disconnected thoughts and things I’m loving lately.

-1-

Mother Teresa. I love her, my husband has a super big devotion to her, and she was bffs with my favorite saint of all time, so I can.not. get enough of these video montages and all the coverage of Rome gearing up for her canonization on Sunday. Her love and her clarity and her pragmatism have rescued me in some of my darkest moments of motherhood. Some of my favorite quotes of hers:

mother

-2-

2 weeks until we leave with Luke for Rome, Lanciano, Manoppello, San Giovanni Rotondo, Pietrelcina, Pompeii, and a couple other places so awesome it makes my head spin thinking about it. We’re going on pilgrimage for the Year of Mercy with our wonderful Archbishop, and we’ll be seeing Italy in an entirely different way that does not involve schlepping 2 toddlers on public transportation and changing diapers on the floors of every major basilica. (Actually that last part is still totally going to happen. But the tour buses will be a significant upgrade.) I would be honored to pray for you while we are visiting the different holy sites and shrines. And I very much covet your prayers for a well behaved lap baby who is newly mobile and can hardly be contained on my person for for 11 minutes, (I’ve been practicing and nervously timing him so I know this) let alone 11 hours.

capp practice

Feeling like a fresh new mom all over again while I countdown the hours till takeoff. Wine and melatonin. Wine and m-e-l-a-t-o-n-i-n.

-3-

Our new neighborhood is great, but it isn’t our old neighborhood. The street is significantly busier, the foot traffic is 100% more, and the kids are kind of struggling with the concept of an off-limits front yard, however great our backyard (will eventually be/)is. I’m trying to think of all the ways this house is an improvement even though we miss our old hood, and I’m trying to unleash my inner gardener/manual laborer as we gear up for a long weekend of laying mulch and generally de-crappifying a quarter acre of complete horticultural neglect. I wish I was as outdoor crafty as I am indoor crafty.

20160902_134021
Lovely,
20160902_134035
Still basically serviceable,
20160902_134048
And then it gets real. Reminds me of my Steubie days.

-4-

The downstairs/main level is looking pretty great. Dave worked hard laying these floors which are actually (drumroll) plastic. They’re luxury vinyl planks, installed to the tune of $1.99/sq foot after the Pergo engineered hardwood we’d ordered was so damaged during shipping that it was unusable. 4 frustrating hours later we surrendered and took the stuff back to Lowe’s, who to their eternal credit returned the entire order no questions asked. Customers for life. And this plastic stuff? I can clean it with a diaper wipe, a wet rag, a mop, a vacuum, whatever. It doesn’t really feel like wood, but it does look pretty good, and I’d do it again in heartbeat. When the kids are older and we’re richer (that’s a thing, right? Hahahaha…..no.) we’d love to do hardwood, but for now, plastic floors are mother’s little helper. Holler.

20160902_133944

-5-

Madame Secretary. Everyone I’ve talked up this show to has wrinkled their nose at me and asked “isn’t that about Hillary Clinton?” to which I respond “Only in that Tea Leoni is also blonde and has a female reproductive system.” because, no. Just no. It’s the most awesome show on the Netflix right now, and Dave and I eagerly gobble up an episode every night once the kids are abed. This week we’ve had a slew of nighttime obligations and last night I was longing to be curled up in front of the laptop watching the Secretary help save the world, along with her winning staff and clever dialogue. Watch it. You won’t be sorry.

-6-

Christy came to my rescue earlier this summer and filled my ear with book recommendations. I’ve loved everything she’s told me to read, but I’ve especially been obsessed with Kate Morton. So far I’ve read the Lake House, the Forgotten Cottage, the Secret Keeper and the Distant Hours. I think the Secret Keeper was my favorite, but I loved them all. It’s so rare to find modern fiction that isn’t either trashy, super gruesome or just … bad. And these are none of those, and set largely in Cornwall, England, and I love everything about them. The end.

-7-

Grace shouted out these jeans from Old Navy and I might have to squeeze myself into a pair this weekend and see if the hype is warranted. I love ON jeans because you can wear them … a lot of times between washes. Which is unhygienically important to me at this stage of life.

See you over at Kelly’s (who wrote the most beautiful piece earlier this week or maybe last about prayer as a special needs parent)

7qt

Catholic Spirituality, Family Life, liturgical living, Marriage, motherhood, reading, sin, Suffering

A liturgy of laundry

May 27, 2016

Last week in my rantings about impersonal social media and the vile temptation to permascroll, I may have insufficiency highlighted the upside. But the upside of the digital age – and there are substantial benefits – is that I do have honest to goodness friends I’ve only met once, or never, from all over the world.

Take my friend Christy, who hails from the wilds of Canada. Sure, we did meet once in real life summers long ago in Texas at Edel: ground zero. But besides that it’s been all Voxes and emails. And one, thoughtful Amazon-flung package of amazing lipstick and one of the best books I’ve read in a long time. And which I would perhaps never, ever have picked up but for Christy’s urging.

I’ve found myself in tears, agonizing over this or that character’s backstory, and flipping eager pages well past an appropriate hour in the night, just to see what the girls would do next.

And, wait for it…It’s about nuns. Cloistered Benedictines in 1960’s England, to be exact. Sounds riveting, right? But oh, it is. Such poignant studies of human nature, such incisive observations on sin, on personality, on life and politics. If you can sleuth a copy on Amazon or eBay, you’d be a lucky dog with the first good read of the summer in your paws.

Speaking of summer, today’s the last day of school here, and it’s 53 degrees and raining, which means indoor children and indoor problems and I’ve got 99 of each.

I was thinking abut the good sisters of Brede while I was folding the one millionth pile of laundry for the week this morning, and I was so done.

Even after a fresh purge, spurred by this week’s conversation about decluttering and spartan living. Grumpily I folded an especially ratty t-shirt, imagining that it would probably still be a house favorite when boy #3 is old enough to have opinions about wearing something with a guinea pig dressed up as Spider Man morning noon and night. Also, it should be noted, Peru lacks any apparent licensing or copyright law. But “Spider Cuy” is a beloved wardrobe staple (thanks, Uncle Handro!) and shall remain so, I supposed, until my back goes out for good and my hands are crippled from decades of careful folding.

It doesn’t help anything that my kids are still basically incompetent at household chores, groused I. And the downward spiral descendeth. Never mind that my friend’s little boy is in the hospital awaiting his first round of chemo, or that a fellow Catholic blogger buried his tiny son this morning. I was going to be disgruntled over laundry.

But there’s so much of it. And while I can weep in solidarity and offer small, pitiful sacrifices in the hard nighttime hours of wakings and rocking and fetching water, it’s harder to see the beauty in the beast(ly) grind of housework.

While Sister Colette thrilled to the task of mending and creating rich vestments to suit the liturgical seasons, marveling over how her work kept her tied to the rhythm of that “great wheel of prayer” that is the liturgical year of the Church, I was – am – less than enthusiastic about the dishwasher I just unloaded. The freshly-mopped floor splattered with applesauce. The decomposing (I wish this were hyperbole) lunchmeat I fished out of the coach section of the mini van this morning.

But couldn’t I be just as connected, in contentment, to my daily work and the constant offering-up and offering back as a kind of prayer?

If marriage is really a vocation, and I believe that it is, then there are day to day responsibilities that aren’t just annoyingly “there” as the result of it, but maybe they’re actually for it; the means of continual sanctification and for sure mortification, by which I perfect my selfish and supremely-irritated-by-poop-on-the-floor soul.

Maybe.

Or maybe it’s less meta than that. But it definitely got me thinking.

“Benedictae!” the “waker of the week” would intone, rapping on the cell door and swinging it open at like 4:30 am. I doubt the sister on the receiving end of the salutation would growl “GET OUT GET BACK IN THE BASEMENT” in a terrifying rat growl in response.

Instead, no matter how exhausted, how overwhelmed, how chilly, how overburdened…she’d probably swing her legs over the side of her cot and get up. Because 4:30m am wakeup calls are part of what she signed up for.

I did not. At least, I didn’t know I did. I didn’t think a lot about sleepless nights, discipline heartbreaks, behavioral issues, traumas, and tantrums. When I was a besotted fiance planning my wedding and eagerly anticipating a Hawaiian honeymoon, I figured children would turn up within the year or so. But even after growing up in a family with 6 younger siblings, I found myself arrestingly unprepared for the ravages of sleep deprivation. And incessant touching.

I think it’s probably my fault if it’s anyone’s “fault,” per se, because I was an exquisitely selfish teenager and must have been blind to my own parent’s sufferings in this realm. But, whatever the case may be, here I find myself elbows-deep in a vocation I’m ill suited for at best, spectacularly unqualified for at worst.

And yet, it’s mine. And these kids and their tears and tantrums and smiles and sticky sticky so so so sticky fingers and their tiny souls begging for love and formation and security…are mine. And this daily litany of laundry and diapers and filthy floors and another – yes, another! – load in the dishwasher or the sink, is mine.

I don’t hear bells tolling at Nones, at Sext, at Matins. I hear screaming from the basement at 1 am. I don’t practice “The Great Silence” (AS ATTRACTIVE AS THAT SOUNDS, HINT HINT FOR NXT MOTHER’S DAY), but I can still my frantic pace for a divine mercy chaplet at 3, or for the Angelus at noon.

And I don’t lovingly lay out vestments in a candlelit sanctuary before an early morning Mass, peacefully arranging flowers and flipping open the missal to the right pages. But I pack lunches. I scrub the same disappointingly-aroma’d bathroom … at times. Which will remain unspoken. I change an astonishing number of dirty diapers in a day. And none of that need be surprising to me.

I mean, it really shouldn’t be.

And I’m really hoping this entire essay isn’t reading as some sanctimonious my vocation is love story. Because while I adore St. Therese enough to name my daughter for her, and while my vocation is, indeed, love, I’m kind of a mess still. And I’m sure Jenny in the future will look back on present day Jenny’s whining over dirty laundry (literally), she’ll maybe smile in compassion or recognition and remember how hard it is to get unselfish. Especially when the desire to do so isn’t terribly strong most days.

Ding, dong. Maybe that’s what I’ll hear when the 4 year old is in my room at 11 tonight, weaving me a tale of bedtime woes. Time to get up and serve my vocation. That’s my call to prayer.

Or maybe I’ll roll over and let daddy deal with it. The flesh is particularly weak on Friday of the last week of school.

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Abortion, Catholics Do What?, Culture of Death, Family Life, Marriage, Parenting, reading

Special Children, Blessed Fathers

October 15, 2015

I have this friend who is pretty incredible. He would defer to his even more incredible wife if I were to admire him to his face, and he would be right in doing so. But, saintlier spouse aside, this guy is pretty legitimately amazing. And if he’s reading this, he’s probably shaking his head and staying to himself, Jenny, stop with the bs.

But you know what? His kids are even cooler than he is. And they’re both card-carrying members of the extra chromosome club, a membership whose numbers are, sadly, dwindling. And not because someone has discovered a cure or furthered research that could prevent their suffering, but because their existence is fundamentally threatened by abortion, somewhere to the tune of 90%.

Because of fear. Because of the risk of the unknown. Because of a lack of knowledge and experience and compassion. Most of all, because of a lack of love.

Ironically, these two kids, despite the challenges they face and the unique parenting skills they require, are two of the most vibrant expressions of human love I’ve ever encountered.

It’s a strange thing to live in a world like ours, so lacking for love and so starved for affection and personal connection, and to realize that most of these precious children are being thrown away before they’re even born. Because they’re different. Because they’re “less than.” Because they’re not part of the script we’ve written for our lives, for our children’s lives. It makes the head spin.

It’s a little like imagining a firing squad lining up the best and brightest minds in the field of cancer research and taking aim. Makes you want to throw your arm out and scream: wait, we need them, there is so much suffering to be relieved, don’t do it.

Thank God, their parents didn’t go that route with Max and Pia. And because of that, JD and Kate were made parents, too.

JD was invited to contribute a chapter to a book by the same title of this post, and it’s good. His words are more eloquent than mine, and his experience far more personal. I can only stand on the sidelines looking on as a friend, watching how these children have transformed their family and their marriage. But JD is living it, and along with several other father-authors, he brings the experience to life on the pages of Special Children, Blessed Fathers.

It’s not a handbook on how to parent kids with special needs, but more of an expose on what special needs parenting can do to the heart of a father when he makes himself vulnerable and available to his child.

I once heard JD, who writes periodically for First Things, say “I don’t like when people say I saved my kids. It’s not true. They saved me.”

Well said, my friend.

(I’m giving away a copy of the book to a random commenter on this post. To enter, leave a comment and/or share this review on social media.)

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