I found the beautiful Agnus Dei which is sung in our parish during Lent.  From Hans Leo Hassler's Missa Secunda, it is a lovely, introspective few moments of prayer.  I wish we used it all year...but I suppose that would take some small bit away from the joy of hearing it for such a short time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was chatting with a friend late last week and told her that I was preparing my meds for the coming weeks.  It occurred to me that she had no concept of what that entailed--in fact, for most people, "bead counting" bears no meaning whatsoever, unless one imagines jewelry or Rosary making or something along those lines.  But that's what I'm doing.  I took pictures to text to her.  She was absolutely dumbstruck at how involved it is.

I've been taking Cymbalta.  It's an antidepressant which is also sometimes prescribed for the pain that comes with fibromyalgia.  After being on it for 6 months, I had begun really not liking the side effects, and made the choice to go a different way to work on the pain I experience.

The problem with that choice is that Cymbalta is darned near impossible to stop taking.

You can't just stop.  You can't even just taper down by reducing the dose.  Lots of doctors think the way to help their patients stop taking Cymbalta is to tell them to take it every other day for a couple of weeks, and then go down a step, and take it every other day for a couple of more weeks, and then just stop.

Cymbalta has a half life of 12 hours.  And the cold turkey withdrawal effects are absolutely horrific.

Nope.  That's not an exaggeration.  It's truly horrific.

I started out on 30 mg each day, and within 2 months, I was taking 60 mg each day.  That seems to be about average for timeline and dosage.  And like I said, I was on it for six months.  I had no idea what the withdrawal would be like--but when I ran out of my prescription, I thought, "I don't need to pick up the refill.  I'm not really in need of this stuff anymore."

That lasted for four days.

By the end of four days, I thought I was going crazy from the outside in and back out again.  I was nauseous, dizzy, my brain was in some sort of fog that felt like I was trying to think through unspun wool.  And the worst parts: even just sitting, doing nothing, was excruciatingly painful, in addition to having "brain zaps" on a frequent basis.  I wanted to crawl out of my skin.  I couldn't breathe.  I was absolutely terrified.  The nightmares were so real I was waking up drenched in sweat--and that was on the nights I could sleep.  The headaches were blinding.  My Darling ended up racing to the pharmacy and telling me: "We need to find another way to get you off of this stuff."

Cold turkey is not the way to get off of this poison.  And the trouble with the way many doctors tell their patients to taper down is that it throws them into that same pattern of cold turkey withdrawal every other day.  That's a real problem.  And yet, the doctors do not seem to know the havoc which is wreaked on the minds and bodies of their patients by this awful medication.

But the maker of the drug....they knew.  They knew and they did not share that information, and there are ongoing lawsuits addressing this issue.

The only safe way to get off of Cymbalta--or it's generic form, duloxetine--is what I mentioned above: the bead counting method.

When My Darling retrieved my prescription, we found out that there had been something of a miscommunication.  I was out of 60 mg refills, but I had remaining 30 mg refills.  The pharmacist said I could get the next refill after 15 days rather than the 30 days it was "supposed" to be for.

Pharmacists.  They get it.  People forget how knowledgeable pharmacists are.

I had already done a bit of searching--mostly at that point, I wanted confirmation that I wasn't going crazy--I wanted to know that I was not alone in what I was feeling because of the withdrawal effects.

Oh boy, was I not alone.

If you go to your favorite interweb search engine and type in "Cymbalta withdrawal side effects," you'll get a real quick education.  And it's not a pretty one.

I spoke with the PA I've been blessed to see and he was fully supportive of my need to get off of this drug.  The doctor I've been assigned...not so much.  More on that later though.

So the bead counting.....here's the scoop.  Inside each capsule are tiny little beads.  There are either hundreds that are the size of nonpareils (those tiny little multi-colored bead-like cookie sprinkles) or several that are the size of dragees (the bigger silver or gold bead-like cookie decorations).  If they're the larger sort of beads, then the unfortunate individual needing to taper down has to contact a compounding pharmacy in order to do so safely.

But the tiny ones?  Those are relatively "easy" as it goes.  In my generic 30 mg capsules, there are 250 beads.  Two hundred fifty.  I know this because I removed six random capsules and counted. every. single. bead. in each one.  And being on 60 mg each day, that meant I was taking 500 beads per dose.  After doing some extensive reading (like, solid hours of reading each day over several days), I concluded that based on my dose and the length of time I'd been taking it, I was probably safe doing a relatively aggressive taper.  I decided I could safely remove 11 beads the first day, 22 beads the second day, 33 beads the third day, 44 beads the fourth day, and so on, increasing the amount removed by an additional 11 beads each day.  All of my reading told me that if I began to feel the negative effects of withdrawal, I could absolutely hold steady where I was until those effects faded, how ever long that might take.  The normal effects?  The ones that you just have to learn to cope with?  Intense muscle and joint aches.  Insomnia.  Vivid, strange dreams.  Equally vivid nightmares.  Headaches.  Mild brain zaps.  Mental fog.  Increased anxiety.  Panic attacks.  Those things are my constant companions.

It took me about 5 weeks to get down to one capsule.  I spent a few hours one night removing the beads from each capsule until I got more than half way through, then began removing all of the beads and counting out what to put back into the capsules.  And I saved the beads I removed in a plastic baggie.  It actually went pretty smoothly.  The insomnia is killer, but my anxiety has been minimal.  The aches....I really thought I would get used to them, but they're really bad some nights.  Doesn't make the insomnia any easier. 

In that second capsule, the day I got down to 117 beads left in the capsule, I started having some pretty bad withdrawal again.  It coincided with my needing to be on antibiotics.  Apparently the way antibiotics affect gut health also affects the way the body is able (or less able) to metabolize a chemical like Cymbalta.  I ended up having to hold steady at 117 beads for an additional ten days.

Last week, I was able to resume counting down.  On one of the many nights I couldn't sleep, I finished up.  I had pretty solid advice from my pharmacist (who also graciously supplied me with empty capsules so I could use up my saved beads, rather than filling another prescription) that I should be extra careful toward the end.

Here's what my night's process looked like.  First, I got everything I needed on my wooden lap desk.

I have my baggie of empty capsules, my multi-dose pill organizer, tweezers, two little glass dishes, paper and pen, and the all important beads of poison.

I start out by counting out ten beads into the glass dish.  This is what ten beads looks like, with the tip of my ballpoint pen next to them for reference.

 I count out loud--sort of.  I listen to music in my earphones while I count so that I don't get distracted by outside noises.  Then I make a mark on my piece of paper so that I know I've counted out ten.

This is the same piece of paper I used when I was counting out the 117 beads I was taking while on antibiotics.  This time I was doing several days in a row: you can see the numerical progression.  My first mark for the evening is beneath 106.

This is what 50 beads looks like:

 It really doesn't look as sinister as it is.  Evil hides in small places sometimes, I guess.

Here's the whole 106:

Truly amazing.

Even more amazing to me is the amount left in the little dish after I had counted out enough for THREE WEEKS:

I am so, so grateful that those things are not in my body.

And this is what the dish along with the remaining beads in the baggie look like:

And my little scrap of paper...I really slowed the taper down at the end, removing four, three or two some days and one on others.

I'm praying like mad that it continues to go smoothly, that I don't have to increase the number of beads in any of my capsules, and that I'm done counting for good.  I still have about 70 empty capsules left, along with those hundreds of beads...so if I need to tweak as I go, I certainly can.

I'm also thankful that I at least have access to the medication I currently need.  There are so many people who've had to go cold turkey off of this stuff because they completely lose their insurance or prescription coverage.

Please join me in prayer this evening for those who need medications that they cannot afford or have no access to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please also join me in prayer this evening for the Spader family, especially Tony and Stephanie, and their dear, sweet daughter Rebekah.

I don't spend a lot of time here on my little cyber-home talking about our lives as a home schooling family. I suppose part of that is that it's just so much a part of our day each day that it doesn't occur to me as something to write about.

A friend of mine on a social networking site made a comment about the school of one of her children just not working out well for their family, and I mentioned that this was one of the big reasons we made the decision to begin home schooling our children four years ago.

Someone known or related to her made this comment in response to mine:

"As flawed as our education system is, it builds social skills that can not be built at home...I have seen this many times over...home schooled kids are less likely to be socially adjusted

"also I feel leaving the education system is not really... solving the issue, become involved, get other parents involved and you will be surprised of the changes that can happen.

"And i sure the comeback will be that "MY Kids" are very social and are doing great..Unfortunately you will not see the damage until they are older....which I have seen too many times....They can not make it because they have been sheltered.

"I personnally am glad my kids are in public school...and yes we are involved in the changes that need to be done...be voice of change a be active in your schools....I see too many times, people who complain, but do not get involved in their schools and still expect change to happen...

"get involved and see what happens...

"As E. knows, I am very passionate about my beliefs. And if you truely want change and/or advice, feel free to contact my wife or myself and hopefully we can get you some good info to get you started in your schools.

"My wife is the PTO President at our school and I volunteer my time at our school also...and we have spearheaded many changes at our own school..."

Now, without being nit-picky and taking this comment apart bit-by-bit, I responded in kind:

"Well.....

"Tell that to my kids, who have been home schooled for four years now and have markedly better "social skills" than their public school educated peers. If you think my kids or any home schooled kids for that matter) aren't socialized..., you don't understand modern homeschooling. It tells me that if you do personally know any families who home school, you likely either do not see most of what goes on, don't know them very well, or know a very small sampling of homeschooling families.

"Please don't assume that I was not involved with my children's education while they were in a building school. Our eldest was in the fifth grade when we made the decision to begin homeschooling, and it most certainly was not for lack of effort on my part, the parts of other parents, or our kids to make the most of the classroom model of education. Very simply put, it does not work for many students, and the ones for whom it does not work are marked as failures, as learning-disabled, as disruptive--when that's not usually the case at all.

"I spent many long days volunteering in their three different classrooms--three days each week, assisting teachers, and helping in ways that most parents would never take the time to do.

"Colleges and universities LOOK for home schooled students because they know that these kids know how to apply themselves academically, generally have good independent work ethics, and are not afraid to set a good example for their peers. I know dozens of home schooled college students and college graduates who have been very successful and are incredible testaments to the dedication that their parents had to their education.

"My children are not "sheltered" from much of anything. They are very involved in many aspects of their community, active in ways that they would not be able to be if they were tied down to the current model of education.

"Please don't assume that homeschooling families are hick know-nothings who could care less about education or are interested only in "sheltering" their kids from "real life." The fact is, very many of us are college-educated, and see the downfalls of the public education system, who work in effort to change it, but who realize that changes happen very slowly, and that had we not made the decision to home school our children, they would have fallen victim to a system which frequently fails kids. Had I *not* been actively involved in my children's' classrooms, I likely would not have seen this in action"

.......and just because I can't keep my big mouth shut (or in this instance, can't keep my busy-bodied fingers from typing), I continued:

" I really want to elaborate on something very specific--the social aspect of schooling. Kids who begin in pre-school and continue toward graduating high school in a classroom setting are not being educated in a way that shapes them to interact well with anyone outside of their specific age group--yet once they reach college (if that is their goal) or the work environment, they are at once thrown into a place where not only are they expected to be responsible for completing tasks under their own motivation, but they are also expected to deal immediately with people of different ages, educational backgrounds and work experiences. These are the types of situations my home schooled children encounter on a very regular basis, through volunteering, participating in activities during the day or evening which encourage them to interact with others who are not necessarily within their peer-group, and which would not be available to them if they were in a classroom from 8 to 3 every day.

"My kids are able to participate in activities structured toward learning actively about government, learning about their faith, learning the history of their community, caring for the poor and needy, tending to the aged and infirm, observing many different professional and vocational callings, and in general, helping them understand that life is not entirely about them and their friends.

"My kids do not have to worry about competing with kids their age over ownership of *stuff*, over "who's dating whom?" (and the accompanying societal peer pressures to get into things they have no desire to make priorities in their lives), over who is involved in more after school activities. They know how to sit down and talk with just about any person of any age, and it's conversation with substance. They can talk with their grandparents and great-grandmothers about family history and learn their stories. They can talk with me and their dad--and do, frequently--about their thoughts and dreams and fears and hopes. They can even talk with the parents of their friends about what's going on with them, what's happening in their lives, their schooling, and their families. They can talk with kids younger than they are and even *play* with them appropriately, without the fear of being laughed at by their friends. They are capable of performing just about any household task that is asked of them. They are able to go to work with their dad and see first-hand what makes the family business run. They are learning to be responsible for more than just getting their Math and English work done!

"All of these things have helped to enrich our children in ways that could never be accomplished in a classroom setting, and each element of their day-to-day living and learning here at home is helping to build great character in each of them.

"I don't mean to imply, so please don't infer, that children who attend building school don't have character or are not capable of building character...but there are many dozens of lost opportunities for learning when you put a child into a classroom for seven hours each day and expect them to fit into that district's idea of the mold of a model student.

"E. is right--there are some children who just do not fit into that mold. Public--even private-- classroom education is not for everyone, just as homeschooling is not for everyone...but for some families, homeschooling can make the difference between a very bright, successful adult and one who has been marginalized by teachers and peers alike throughout their schooling experience."

Now, I didn't get into all of the reasons that went into our decision to home school. There are, for starters, simply too many. But what I've found is that it really doesn't matter, fundamentally, to anyone but us--and the fact of the matter is that the biggest reason we made the lap from building to home education is that it is, plainly, what God was calling us to do. Most people don't understand this, and it would be frustrating and fruitless to try to explain it.

Because we are strongly anchored in our Catholic faith, and because we knew that God was calling us to more fully live that faith, we knew that allowing our children to daily remain in the hands of people who are disinterested in instilling the truths of our faith in every aspect of their education was not only not in the best interest of our children, but for all intents and purposes, quite frankly, to their detriment. Why would we daily immerse our children into a system which undermines the moral values which we have instilled in their hearts and souls since their births? Why would we choose to put them into situations which would make the question the decisions and foundations of their parents? Why is it seen as "healthy" or "good" or "normal" to put children into situations which cause them to have to question the authority in their lives which ought to matter most?

Well, we decided, along with many other parents, along with Holy Mother Church, that it is not healthy, good, or right at all. Parents have the right to educate their children, and the moral responsibility to do so to the best of their ability, and so we took that right and responsibility seriously and began on our home schooling journey.

What do we have to show for it?

I'll let my comments above speak for themselves on that, and perhaps I'll ask the kids to start writing the occasional entry for my little cyber home here at God Will Provide.

I would encourage those of you who have chosen to educate your children at home to chime in with your thoughts--why did you begin home schooling? What have you found to be the positive aspects--and what have you found to be the greatest challenges? Do you have the support of your family? Of your friends? Of your church? Of a home schooling support or cooperative group?

Advent, 2011

If you're Catholic, and if you've been paying attention, you know that the beginning of Advent next year means that the new, corrected Translation of the Roman Missal will be implemented by churches throughout the world.

What does it mean? Does the use of a translation other than what we use now during the NO Mass mean a step backward? Does it mean that the people attending Mass will somehow be less able to participate in the Mass?

Read the Order of Mass for yourself here, and then think about it. It's not difficult, I promise.

The thing is, there seems to be a huge debate rising about what it means to have this "new" translation. But it isn't a new translation at all--it's a corrected translation. Fr. Z frequently presents to us the beautiful prayers and collects in the original Latin, then with a literal translation, then what has replaced the literal translation, which has nearly always been watered down so far as to change the original meaning. Take a look at his post of last Sunday (Oct. 8th) here.

How does it serve the faithful if the original meaning of our prayers is removed? And how in the world could anyone see anything negative in that original meaning being restored? Does it somehow change the tenets of the faith, the very foundation that the Catechism has laid out for us? It is not an edict demanding a return to singularly Latin Masses being said; it is far more in keeping with the "Spirit of Vatican II" that people rave on and on about. How does this equal somehow moving backward? And what's wrong with Latin, anyway?

To my mind--admittedly rather young, in all things Catholic--the corrected translation is an incredible blessing! The removal of "every day" language from the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is something to which I very much look forward. To have Heaven on Earth be brought just a little closer by the reverence of the very words spoken is something the heart and soul ought to long for.

When things are phrased in a particular way, it makes us perceive things in a different way. If the phrasing is crude, choppy, disconnected, then the idea will not be properly conveyed. If the phrasing is smooth, eloquent and refined, would logic not then bring us to the conclusion that our minds would be collected in such a way that we might perhaps be further drawn into contemplative thought? Isn't that what Mass is supposed to be about?

What would you do?

What is the charitable thing to do in a difficult situation? Here's the set-up:

There's a family of four--two little girls and Mom and Dad--who've been attending the same Mass as our family (and loads of other families) for about 2 years now. They seem like very nice people. The children are roughly 3 and 5, though they might be a bit older. It is obvious that there is no mental illness nor disability on the part of any member of the family.

The trouble is that the girls chatter like squirrels throughout Mass, and they do so without correction. They ask for (and are given) snacks. They ask for (and are given) paper and pen. They dance on the pew. They balance on the kneeler, as though on a beam, pulling hair and pounding arms of those in front of them.

When a parent does speak with them, it's usually Mom--and she actually speaks to them. At a conversational volume. Regardless of what is happening in regards to the Mass. She does this during the homily, during the readings, during the hymns, and even during the crux of the Mass--the Consecration. Her speaking to her children is never to correct them--just to answer and pacify them. The children are never removed, for any reason. The younger one has cried loudly during Mass before, and nothing was done.

I think this might be one of the families (though I've not seen other families with this type of issue at the Mass we regularly attend, but there are also three other Mass times within our parish) which prompted the message written by our dear Monsignor about six months ago, regarding behavior during Mass, and when it becomes necessary to remove a child from the nave in order to allow other parishioners to worship appropriately.

It is maddening. It is distracting, and it is completely disrespectful of Our Lord during the Mass.

So I ask you--what would you do?

I understand what it's like to wrangle children during Mass. I have five, for Pete's sake, and am not looking to be out of the Narthex Crowd anytime soon!! I know what it is to sit in the narthex as close to the speaker as I can, or where I can watch through the glass panel on the door, knowing that I can hear the Mass just fine from there, and that my small ill-behaved child is out of hearing and sight range of the rest of the people, and that this leaves only me as the distracted one. I definitely know what it's like to have the strong desire to be in the nave, seeing the beauty of the Mass, immersed in the ways in which the Mass stirs our senses, and feel as though I'm not really there at all. In other words, I've been in their shoes--but rather than sit there, I've gotten up and moved my feet!

I am finding it terribly difficult to remain charitable in my heart, especially in those moments during Mass when I am left to strain to hear Monsignor's homily, because the woman behind me refuses to whisper. I found this to be especially so this morning, when this family sat down directly behind our family. Finding another pew at that point was not possible.

So, besides "offer it up"--which, believe me, I have been doing!--what in the world would you do??

It's WHAT time?!

On the one hand, it's really nice to be in a quiet house. The lights around the Creche glow warmly, the lights around the windows shine gently, and the slow, steady breathing of my Pudge falls on my ear. She is resting peacefully on my chest, the smell of warm milk sweet on her cheeks.

On the other hand, I could totally do without insomnia. Really. I am so tired that I can't even stand it, but my mind just will not let up.

It's been a strange Advent. My heart has been trying and trying to prepare Him room, but it's been complicated somewhat by the turn of events following Pudge's measles.

People are afraid of measles. Think about it--when was the last time you were in the presence of a person with the measles? Probably doesn't happen very often. Most people in my mom's generation had measles when they were kids, and most people of my generation and younger have been vaccinated.

The thing people are afraid of is not knowing enough about this virus to keep cool when they hear that it's "out there."

So the Pudge got measles. We don't know where, and we don't really even know how or when. It could have been at the library, or the grocery store, or even in the Narthex at church. She could have gotten it because some baby slobbered on the handle of the cart at the store and then she touched the handle and then sucked on her pudgy little fingers, or because she was drooled on by a playmate who had just been vaccinated.

So what happened? She had a fever, which we controlled easily with acetaminophen and ibuprofen and tepid baths. She had a rash which lasted a few days and then faded. She had two runny diapers. She may have had a headache and sore throat--both of which would have been alleviated with the meds. She had goopy eyes and a runny nose, which, considering her age, is not so surprising--perhaps what is surprising is that this bout with measles is the second time ever in her little life that she has been sick. And oh, yes, I do count that puny little Piggy Flu as the first.

Oh--and just to get it out there, as soon as we knew that measles was what was had, we were on the phone with those we knew to be at risk, those we thought might possibly be at risk, and those we knew would pray for the Pudge. And for Pete's sake, we kept her home until we knew she was past the possibility of passing it on.

Most of the people with whom we are in contact vaccinate. Some of them don't. Whether we or they do or don't doesn't really matter in this case--Pudge, having just turned a year, was too young to have received an MMR shot, so she fell into the category of "unprotected" by default. And those who choose not to vaccinate do not do so thinking that their children will never get______(measles, mumps, chicken pox, etc......). Generally speaking, they are a very well-educated, well-informed bunch who make decisions after weighing pros and cons, and with the support of their doctors.

But I gotta tell ya, there was mass hysteria out there. Grown, thinking, mature adults absolutely freaked out about this--and mostly because they had no idea what measles is, how it progresses, how it spreads, who's at risk and who isn't, and what they should do about it--because for Pete's sake, we'd better do something!

And why, you might ask, would this affect our Advent?

Well it's like this. We discovered Pudge's measles on Thanksgiving evening. That would be November 26th. That following Sunday (the First Sunday of Advent), November 29th, she and I did not go to Mass (though I was able to go to an evening Mass, thanks be to God). That Monday, Pickle went with My Darling to the boys' club that they always go to on Monday, and someone was very upset about that. Never mind that Pickle is vaccinated and boostered. He cannot carry measles. But whoever was upset about it started The Panic. The Panic spread, the rumors began, the gossip flowed like cheap wine from a box, and the phone began ringing off the hook.

Oh wait--actually, it didn't.

On Sunday, My Darling let a couple of people know that Pudge had the measles, and I received one e-mail from a very lovely woman asking how Pudge fared, and would we like her to send a meal along with her husband and sons to give to My Darling on Monday evening? God bless her!!

The next day, our whole home school group received an e-mail stating that measles was "making the rounds"--because, you know, one child in one family equals "making the rounds." Someone heard about this and passed it on and passed it on and passed it on (because sometimes we women........well, sometimes we talk.). And someone threatened to call a doctor whom they knew who kept track of infectious diseases. And someone called someone else and said that we were using this as an excuse to drop our home school group like a hot potato because we wanted to participate in a different one. And someone called someone else and said that they heard that our daughter said to someone else's daughter that we might not be homeschooling all the way to high school anyway, so what did it matter?

Yes, really.

Everything kind of happened behind closed doors and spilled onto keyboards and screens.

Now, I love e-mail. I use it all the time and think it's groovy that I can send quick updates and notes to my Grams, and print off menus for Mass when I'm scheduled to cantor. But when something like this happens, I truly wish that all e-mail service in the 100 miles surrounding us would crash. People grew not only afraid of measles, but of the phone.

Some of the e-mails we received were near threats--"Don't show up to First Friday Mass!" Some of them were piggybacks of gossip--"We hear MamaMidwife's Lovey and Flower have measles, too--we're praying for them!" (.....except that they didn't have them....not that anyone bothered to call her to find this out.......) Some of them were directed to MamaMidwife, and were Just Plain Hurtful--"Don't come to this event because I'm terrified that you'll give measles to others there!" (.....even though she's vaccinated and cannot carry measles.....)

The fear, I tell you, was palpable.

The worst e-mail--the kindest, but the worst--was the one from our beloved Monsignor. Someone had called or e-mailed him very, very late on Saturday evening, the night before the Second Sunday of Advent. We had already made the decision that the big three were going to Mass with My Darling and the little ones would stay home with me. And at 11:00 at night, I received an e-mail letting our family know that we had all been dispensed of our obligation to attend Holy Mass, the Holy Mass celebrating Immaculate Conception, and all Masses until we were confident that the risk of exposure had passed.

Yes, really.

And what was the risk?

The risk was that because the Monkey, who has not been vaccinated, lives with his dear sister the Pudge, he might carry the measles and hand it off to some unsuspecting unvaccinated child.

Not that we could arrange to not have him at First Friday Mass. Not that we could make sure he stayed--literally--within our arms at Sunday Mass, and in the back of the church, or on the side where very few people ever sit because the lighting is horrible. Not that we were out to expose the families whom we know and love like our own families, for Pete's sake, wishing them all to suffer the wrath of the measles!

And how long was this a risk? Well gosh, I don't know. It probably still is, because here it is, December 17th, and he has yet to get the fever, the Koplik's spots, the rash, the goopy eyes, the sore throat, the headache, the diarrhea, or for pity's sake, the anything associated with measles. But, you know, it could happen at any time.

This Sunday, Gaudete Sunday, REJOICE Sunday, we went to Mass as a family, in the parish to which we belong.

Not the First Sunday of Advent. Not First Friday. Not the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. Not the Second Sunday of Advent. And Heaven knows, none of the daily Masses in between.

And as a result of the fear, gossip, panic and lack of communication, we are now considering leaving the home school group with which we'd felt such a strong bond. We hadn't considered it before this whole thing erupted. But having been on the receiving end of a lot of muck being slung about, we're not sure it's really the place we want to nurture our children. (Our children, who, by the way, were witness to their mother reading e-mail after e-mail, talking with friends and those whom she thought to be friends, trying to sort out and assure that we were not trying to infect people with some deadly disease, and for Pete's sake, would they please ask us what our plans for our family are, rather than relying on what someone's daughter said that our daughter said months ago??!! Yes, REALLY!)

A lot of damage can be done when people allow fear to take hold. With the refusal to ask questions, research anything, talk with any doctor who actually deals with measles, rather than studying it from a book, so much has been accomplished on the side of evil--hurt feelings, motives questioned, friendships destroyed, faithful people alienated.....

So it's been a strange Advent.

I'm trying so to keep it all in perspective, to focus on the joy of this season. It's been mighty difficult. There's so much other crud going on that Mass has been all I've had to look forward to...and when you're told not to come to Mass, it's like a stab to the very soul, with a twist of the blade for good measure.

Thanks be to God, my Pudge is well. Thanks be to God, the Monkey is, too. Thanks be to God we can now fully focus on Advent, on preparing our hearts to welcome the Lord Jesus, the Infant King, Emmanuel, God with us.

Yep.

Four days left until I can putter around my home, nesting like the Mama Bird I feel I am these days.

My little nest has nearly lost it's charm, although I've surrounded myself well: books, laptop, remotes, cordless phone (what would I do without technology?!), a veritable rainbow of embroidery floss, hoops and needles, and a stack of pre-ironed towels to complete, basket of pedicure/manicure supplies, crossword puzzles--and all of this is to keep me busy between moments with the kids (of which there are plenty!)...and of course my Survival Kit: Bible, Rosary and Magnificat!

Four days. Four more (short, please Lord!) days. I can do four more days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've specifically avoided political entries thus far. While I enjoy a lively talk with people face-to-face, I don't necessarily relish getting into politics in a forum where just anyone, seen or unseen, can attack what they think are the entirety of my views and beliefs because of a sentence or two. I'll leave comments enabled for the time being, and we'll see what comes of it. I just want to be clear that I'm not making these statements to draw some big debate, and quite frankly, I don't know that I have the energy for one at the moment (I'm very busy...............).

However......

I am upset about the results of the presidential and senatorial elections, although I can keep the economical side in perspective. We will see soon enough that the wealth has already been spread to those who actually choose to actively participate in our society. We will see soon enough that you cannot force an economy to grow "from the ground up"--the poor cannot pay the rich. Taxing the already taxed will not make this country greater. Encouraging reliance on government will only serve to increase our fiscal problems, but encouraging business development and healthy competition in the marketplace will help things move along in a positive way. (Did you know that the top 1% of wage earners in this country pay 39% of the taxes? The top 25 % pay 86% of taxes? And the top 50% pay 97% of taxes. This means that the bottom whole 3% of all taxes are paid by the bottom 50% of tax-paying wage earners. And that doesn't even count the entire sub-population who don't make enough, and so don't qualify to pay taxes--roughly 35% of the entire population! Thanks, all you "greedy, undeserving rich," for employing us, paying us, and then paying our bills. Spread the wealth, ha. Trickle that up!) Are you picturing me on my little cyber-soapbox?

That's all going to work itself out in the next couple of years though...because in two years there will be another election, and the next opportunity to correct these mistakes.

But that's not my real concern. My real concern lies with the ignorance of life, and the alignment of so many against the miracle of every human life, from conception to natural death.

I am praying for the Mercy of God to be upon all those who engage in or enable or promote the destruction of human life at it's most innocent and vulnerable.

This morning, as My Darling and I prayed together, and the Little Pumpkin was stirring as usual, the tears began and I could not stop them. I didn't even really want to try. So many lives are lost every day--lives of human beings who did not enlist as adults into a military unit with the intention of defending their country, and therefore understanding that conflict or combat could mean death. Lives of individuals who did not make the mistake of "magically appearing" where they could not know that they were not wanted, and will therefore pay the ultimate price for the sins of their mothers and fathers. Lives of tiny babies who are perfectly formed or not, who will survive outside their mothers' wombs or not, who were "planned" by human beings or not (because every life is ordained by God!), and who will be treated so cruelly that were we to see it in action on the street we would not hesitate to put ourselves between the violence and the innocence.

Please, God, have mercy on us and on the whole world for our silence, for our inaction, for our lack of compassion, for our sinful and willful neglect of this entire defenseless segment of society. Convert the hearts of those who seek these actions, and convict the hearts of those who fight for what is good and right.

May this time serve as a lesson in humility for all of us as children of God.

May the Divine's assistance remain always with us, and may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercies of God, rest in peace.