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House Marathon

February 11, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

Today I enjoyed a House marathon both on television and in my house.  Today was the first day in about five weeks that I haven’t had to go anywhere.  It has been lovely.  I baked chicken using a little Bisquick recipe and it was yummy.  I did not strain to do anything.  Granted,  I didn’t accomplish an amazing amount of productive stuff, but the relaxation was the productive stuff today.

I made Scotty do laundry yesterday because I had been avoiding it.  Today I did a load.  There was no dog barking at the washer machine.

I cleaned.  I watched House.  I spent time with my sons when they wanted to be with me.  We cuddled a wee bit this morning which was sweet.

Relief came in the form of not thinking a lot today.  My muscles are beginning to loosen, but that in itself brings new forms of aches.  Motivation still needs to be found in the physical activity arena.  I’m hopeful it will light up within me soon.  Otherwise I will be forced to make myself do something.  So much harder without an intrinsic motivation.  Even when I feel “better”, physical activity makes everything hurt more which then sends me back into a phase of inactivity.  It’s a viscous cycle, I tell you!  If I can find some physical activities that help and don’t hurt and make them a routine, that would be lovely.

But tonight things hurt just a bit too much as some of the week’s tension seeps away.  Tonight will simply include a marathon of sleep in my house of chaos.  Madness knew “Our House”.

Father wears his Sunday best
Mother’s tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister’s sighing in her sleep
Brother’s got a date to keep
He can’t hang aroundOur house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

Our house it has a crowd
There’s always something happening
And it’s usually quite loud
Our mum she’s so house-proud
Nothing ever slows her down
And a mess is not allowed

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

Our house, in the middle of our street
(Something tells you)
(That you’ve got to get away from it)
Our house, in the middle of our

Father gets up late for work
Mother has to iron his shirt
Then she sends the kids to school
Sees them off with a small kiss
She’s the one they’re going to miss
In lots of ways

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our

I remember way back then when
Everything was true and when
We would have such a very good time
Such a fine time
Such a happy time
And I remember how we’d play
Simply waste the day away
Then we’d say
Nothing would come between us
Two dreamers

Father wears his Sunday best
Mother’s tired she needs a rest
The kids are playing up downstairs
Sister’s sighing in her sleep
Brother’s got a date to keep
He can’t hang around

Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, was our castle and our keep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, that was where we used to sleep
Our house, in the middle of our street
Our house, in the middle of our street

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The Good Hands of Liberty Mutual

February 10, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

I am fortunate enough to have wonderful opportunities of fellowship with my church family.  This evening was our monthly get-together of the 20s-30s group of which I am a welcome interloper since I am neither in my 20s nor my 30s.  I wielded self-control of the tongue like Thor wields his mighty hammer.  Not that we can’t share and contribute to the conversation-that is one of the main hopes of the group, but my brain filled with so many personal connections to the topics that if I hadn’t demonstrated the self-control I would have seemed like an egocentric maniac.

Dreams…what’s your dream?  Part of our discussion this evening and a quote from Pretty Woman.  Dreams are such a part of life.  Songs are written about them, books are written about them, psychics will interpret your dreams from slumber.  One has a dream and that leads to a goal.  Then you work toward it in increments and often the goal is achieved and the dream is realized.  Sometimes not.   But still we dream.

The discussion turned to many topics this evening, but my brain has not finished working through them to share yet.  But there a few thoughts to jot down before memory allows them to slip away.

The idea of seeing something nice and then doing the same for someone else.  We knew it was from an insurance commercial but couldn’t recall which one.  I saw it tonight when I turned on the television.  Liberty Mutual.  How often do you do that?  Not watch the insurance commercial, but spread a little sunshine.  It is one of the simplest ways to share kindness and make the world a wee bit friendlier.

We also talked about the image of the “good hands”.  We’ve discussed that image before in relationship to ways we may picture God.  I do like the image of God’s large hands keeping me safe-truly the good hands. Good hands there to comfort you in sadness, cheer with you in times of accomplishment, pray with you in times of questioning.  But we also mentioned Allstate.

Is this group obsessed with insurance?  No.  But insurance companies play upon the craving for safety that is a part of the human existence.  The first two levels of Maslow’s hierarchy deal with safety.  We crave it.  We don’t aspire to the “fun” stuff like dreams and aspirations until we have satisfied our need for safety.  Once those aspects of life are secured (or at least as secured as those things can be), then we can jump in with both feet running toward our dreams.

It was fun to think about Maslow.  I also got to think about Vygotsky tonight.  It was discussed that growth comes from frustration or challenges.  Hee hee…the inner geek in me thought about the zone of proximal development.  One of my favorite theories that I love learning about.  The exploration of its application in my life and life in general frequently fills my mind.  I love the opportunities presented to me to be the more knowledgeable other (MKO).  But even more exciting is when I’m in the zone and I find the more knowledgeable other in the most random of places.  Many times the MKO is easy to find.  If I have to figure out the increase in percentages, I go to my boss and we think it through together (she’s stronger in math than me…the MKO).  If I need to hang something straight, I turn to my hubby because I have no sense of depth perception and hang everything crooked (though it looks great to me!).  I seek guidance from my husband, my pastor, my folks, my friends, but sometimes the guidance I need comes from my sons.  Or someplace or someone I cannot even guess.

Tonight I will slumber and most likely dream.  Perhaps one of those dreams will lead to a dream for my waking hours.  I think people have better days with a dream in their minds.  Dreams speak of future, of possibilities, of hope.  And as Uncle Stevie had Andy Dufresne say, “hope is a good thing.”

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Mob Mentality

February 9, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

One has to be in awe of Mary Shelley.  She capitalized on mob mentality a long time ago.  Frankenstein: or The Modern Prometheus touched a nerve in society almost 200 years ago and continues to touch a nerve today.  College courses are designed around studying this piece of literature.  It has been adapted into multiple films, stage adaptations, and other genres within the fine arts world.  People misidentify the creature as Frankenstein all the time, driving me positively crazy in the process.  The themes within this one piece of literature are vast and deep, visible in our everyday society.

Politics capitalize on mob mentality stirred usually through propaganda.  The saddest part about this is even with the mob stirred up apathy runs rampant.  Many heated debates may take place in different forums, over coffee at the local shop, over online social media sites, in classrooms on university campuses.  Real change and progress take time, energy, passion, and determination.  Many people have these qualities about their personal passion, but may get tunnel vision and forget to look around.  So while they could help with change they lose perspective and everyone just ends up shouting their tale louder and louder hoping to be heard by anybody who might stop to listen.

Illness also feeds mob mentality.  What was the latest flu-swine, bird?  I cannot even remember.  People think I’m nuts to not get a flu vaccine but the last time I had the flu was the year I got the vaccine.  While many of our modern medicinal advances are wonderful and things I embrace, others are creating new medical issues.  I let my sons get dirty.  I don’t make them use hand sanitizer every thirty minutes.  They get enough of that in school.  You need some germs to help your body develop the ability to fight them.  Over sanitizing can make you get sicker more easily.  Like I said, some medical advances are amazing.  Others not so much.   There is not always one pill to fix something.  Natural treatments are still a valid option.  Mob think however wants that one pill.  They don’t always care if it’s brand spanking new and no one really knows what it could do over the long term.  I personally wait till a new treatment is at least seven years out on the market to see how it does (little trick I learned from my hubby).

Education often falls into the mob mentality.  This is horrific to me.  Everyone learns in an individual way.  While you can learn within a group format, we need to remember that each person is going to leave that group setting and process the information differently.  We label everything in education to the point of labeling the labels!  The mobs said 20 years ago that one needed to have their children in something everyday.  Now these children struggle to focus on one central goal and stick with it.  My boys get to be boys.  They have time to figure out what they want to be when they grow up.  They have time to focus on an interest and become good at it.  They have time to learn because they are learning every day.  There is so much they have to learn about simply being a gentle, considerate, compassionate person at this tender age.  I don’t need to overwhelm them with extraneous stuff.  The mob says I should.  I ignore them.

Children aren’t always hyper–they are simply being children.  They haven’t yet lost the ability to be truly excited and happy about something and show it freely.  I love when I remember to do that-to let my whole being show how excited I am about something.  I don’t care what the mob thinks.  If I’m excited or I really like something regardless of the societal popularity, I’m gonna show it.  Children express their emotions within the moment fully and I still wonder why we work so hard to lose that gift.

Be bold.  Ignore the mob.  Embrace your own thoughts, ideas, and dreams.  Follow your own beliefs.

Truly some think that one’s own beliefs are formed by a mob.  Many (not all) without an organized religion to call home seem to feel or think that organized religion is simply mob mentality or glorified cults.  But unlike what sometimes happens to a person with a political cause, those who embrace a religious family are coming together because of the shared vision.  Then by nature that person usually has similar views to the others within the religious family.  This is similar to how one chooses their political alignment, but one political group doesn’t always meet all of one’s needs. This can make the waters muddy and creates conflict.

Politics and religion battle often over who has control of the human body.  Once again, Shelley was all over that 200 years ago.  This has been debated forever (or at least it seems that way even though I haven’t been around forever).  We put our energies into many things that, while important, make us forget the other things that are equally important.  Give people the benefit of the doubt.  They are probably trying their best each day but are dealing with their own struggles.  A little kindness and acceptance go a long way.

Ramblings flow easily from the brain whether it be the brain of a genius or the brain of “Abby someone…Abby Normal”.  These are my ramblings this evening.  Shelley gave us a lot to think about.  And tons of great movies to watch.  My personal favorites would be Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (yes, Kenneth Branagh’s version) and Young Frankenstein (go Mel Brooks!).  They make a fun double feature if you’ve got the time.  Throw in Frankenstein Unbound and you’ve got your whole day planned.

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My Lunch with Ferris Bueller

February 8, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

I trust we would have lunch in one of the finer restaurants of Chicago.  I’m sure we would have a wonderful table and outstanding service.

Once we had ordered our meals, I would rip him a new one.  How dare he sell out to Honda.  Really?  Ferris, you do not have the right to sell out my teen years.  This simply speaks to the consumer generation that we are.  I recently read an article for something at work and it was about consumerism.  The author theorized that we join a cult beginning in childhood and that cult is consumerism.  As I read this piece, I recognized every brand name included in it (there were many).  I also realized that the author’s claim that we function by the calendar of consumerism is true in my own life.

I feel the cycle as it rotates around every year.  I feel it starts at the school year with school supplies.  Then there is Halloween (yeah, I’ll never give that one up).  Then I feel like I have to buy new Thanksgiving stuff-even though I do not need anymore.  Christmas obviously has consumerism dripping all over it and I work harder every year to help my sons keep the birth of Jesus at the center of it.

New Year’s, Valentine’s, St. Patrick Day through Memorial Day through Fourth of July.  The list and cycle goes round and round.  And the mother of all consumerism-the Super Bowl.  People often miss the game discussing the commercials.  The price of a spot during the game is the highest in the business.  Which brings us back to Ferris.

Ferris Bueller peddling Hondas?  More to the point…Matthew Broderick is peddling Hondas while ripping off Ferris.  Life does move pretty fast but not so fast that I didn’t notice the commercial as I walked away from my television.  I usually do a little chore during commercials, put away laundry, clean, put stuff in backpacks, whatever.  I stopped in my tracks tonight (yeah, I didn’t watch the Super Bowl so I only saw it tonight for the first time)-selling a Honda?  The late, great John Hughes must be rolling over in his grave.  But we did it to ourselves.

We want all the stuff.  We want the fame and glory that we were weaned on during our teen years.  We want the brands because then we’ll be like the people in the movies we grew up watching.  Hell, we want the movies to show where the fictional characters are now.  I’d laugh my ass off if they were to make a really good reunion movie of The Breakfast Club or Sixteen Candles or Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.  I would love to know what happened to them.  They were such a part of my teenage years, my formative years (as they say…).  These films helped shape my views and my cultural foundation.  The characters helped me feel more normal because they showed it was okay to not be exactly like everyone else.

And now dear Matthew is hawking Hondas.

But the lunch would be divine.  He would probably have played hookie from work that day.  Maybe I would play hookie from work that day too.  It’s perfectly okay…I’d be with Ferris.  Driving around in a Honda.  When did product placement in films begin?  I’m sure it has been around for a long time, but it is so overt today that movies even mock the fact that they have product placement funding part of the film.

We asked for it, we got it.  Toyota.  Oops, sorry, this is supposed to be about Honda.

Probably wouldn’t have to even pay for lunch since Ferris is so charming.

Maybe I should have lunch with Cameron.  Or switch movies and go out with Duckie.

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Brigadoon

February 7, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

“…but not Ferdinand.

He liked to sit just quietly

and smell the flowers.”

(from The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf)

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Uncle Stevie comes to the rescue

February 6, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

“May be she’ll learn something about what death really is, which is where the pain stops and the good memories begin. Not the end of life but the end of pain.”
― Stephen King, Pet Sematary

The first dog I had was named Tasha.  She was a fox terrier.  The curly, or wire-haired, type.  She was adorable.  She lived till the ripe old age of ten.  When she went, it was the first experience I had with losing someone close to me.  Yes, she was a dog.  I do differentiate between humans and animals, but she was the first living creature I had seen every day from the age of two to pass.  Now, at the age of twelve, I didn’t get to see her anymore.  Pets do so much in a person’s life.  For all the many years you live with them, they fill your days with happiness, laughter, and good times, good times.

At the end there is pain.  But the pain you feel disappears just as Uncle Stevie wrote.  The good memories begin.  Tasha was a fun dog who let me dress her up in doll clothes and she would sit in the doll stroller.  She had a lot of patience with me.  As she got older, she gained weight (don’t we all?) and spent more time sleeping (don’t we all?).  When her time came, it sucked.  I cried and it made me mad that she couldn’t live forever.  It was not the first time I had experienced death, but I hadn’t known the relatives who had died, they weren’t a part of my daily existence so I really didn’t notice (at that young age) any change now that they were gone.  I noticed that my dog was no longer there.

Now that I’m older I realize that with the passing of the relatives, it does impact my daily existence.  As each generation passes, you move up one.  You take on new familial responsibilities.  Perhaps not overtly, not things you notice every day, but overall you move up in the family tree.  You have more branches growing and suddenly you are the one who is supposed to fill in the names in the book.

I think that’s why pets are a good thing for a family.  They help you to learn about loving unconditionally and how to grieve when the time comes.  It does not make the loss of a loved one any easier, but you have an understanding of the grieving process.  You understand the feelings of anger, frustration, sadness.  The experience of not being able to do a damn thing more than what you tried already.

Tomorrow the second dog I have loved will be with us no more.  Brigs is twelve and has been in a lot of pain the past year or so.  More than we probably realized, more than he may have shown until quite recently.  And it is time.  Our youngest is afraid of the growth on his head and our oldest recites a little mantra before he goes downstairs to visit him.  It’s hard for me to look at this beautiful dog with the memories of his happy, fun life in my head while he struggles to stand up.  Brigs hasn’t been upstairs for a year-he can’t handle walking up or down the stairs.  He’s been on thyroid meds for five years and insulin twice a day for three years.  There is a litany of issues this sweet dog has been dealing with but that’s not the part to focus on now.

Tomorrow we will learn about where the pain stops and the good memories begin.  Like when he ate my husband’s underwear.  Or ate the chocolate.  Or ate his flea collar.  Or ate half a dozen dog beds, including one that was obscenely expensive and guaranteed to be chew proof.  He ripped that thing apart, stuffing everywhere, within twelve hours.  I called the company and the very nice guy on the phone asked if the bed had arrived.  I told him yes.  He asked if my dog, Brigadoon (I splurged for the embroidered name if memory serves), liked the bed.  I told him he thought it was delicious and did they mean it when they said it was guaranteed?  He asked how long the bed lasted and I told him it didn’t make it through the night.  They happily refunded my money.  Anything he could eat, he did.  Brigs still has an iron stomach.  The rest of him just doesn’t work so well.

Once he ate the boys’ crayons.  Very colorful poop.

He’s allergic to acorns.  They cause him to have convulsions.  He has never been able to enjoy our shady back yard because the two oak trees drop lots of acorns and he thinks the acorns are kibble.  Silly dog.

We’ll think about the time the boys colored him with the red magic marker.  We’ll think about the “puppy Olympics” he would do in the house.  He would run from one end of the house to the other as fast as he could and jump up on the chaise at the one end.  We had a perfect mold of his ass in the wall from where he slammed into it over and over again.  I have the sheet rock to repair the wall.  I’ve had it for over a year.  Just can’t bring myself to repair it.

In their young lives, the boys have lost two cats.  They have vague memories of the experience.  When their grandmother, my wonderful mother-in-law, passed, we told them about it but didn’t have them experience the viewing or funeral.  They were too young.  Hell, I had nightmares for months after she passed.

It didn’t make sense.  I loved her and we got along really well.  Why would she be chasing me in my dreams?  Had she not really liked me?  It haunted me for months.  My husband and I discussed what could be causing the nightmares but couldn’t come up with a reason that made sense.  Then a few months later my husband called me from his dad’s house and he was very excited.  He was helping his father close out the accounts and he discovered I hadn’t cashed my birthday check from my mother-in-law.  Well, if there was one thing Mom couldn’t stand, it was an uncashed check.  I found the check, cashed it, and bought some shoes in honor of her.  Nightmares stopped.

Tomorrow the boys will have their first first-hand experience with death.  They will be sad, frustrated, angry, and then hopefully happy as they remember Brigs as he was, not as the old, hurting dog he became.  I will not let them read Pet Sematary, hell, I can’t read it anymore.  Now that I have young sons, I can’t read it.  I’ll read it again when they are older.  But we will take Uncle Stevie’s words and embrace them.  We will let the pain end and the good memories begin.  Not the end of life but the end of pain.

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Change in social lives

February 4, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

Over the past month our sons have gone to birthday parties every weekend.  Six birthday parties.  One of which was today and in honor of our youngest’s upcoming seventh birthday.  He has a summer birthday and we had hoped to have more school friends attend if it was during the school year.  Not true.  Didn’t matter.  He had a blast.

It used to be that I had a social life.  Not so much anymore.  At this exact moment, I am waiting up for the six and a half year old to come home from roller skating with the neighbors.  Our eight year old opted to stay home (he’s still a bit under the weather).  I organized the unbirthday boy’s Pokemon deck with guidance from the older son.  I couldn’t help myself.  I alphabetized them with the health points.

Yep, my sons have more interesting social lives than my husband and me.

When did that happen?

This will be the way of life for the next ten to twelve years.  Then I’ll get my social life back.  Maybe.  If I haven’t become a boring old lady.  That’s the trick now.  To keep myself interesting for the next twelve years.  I have to keep learning new stuff and remember that I have a brain.  Explore new things, keep up with my hobbies.  I really have let my hobbies fall off the radar.  I’ve let a lot of things fall of the radar.  My husband only learned today that I enjoy roller skating.  I told him I would have gone if both boys went tonight.  He didn’t know I even knew how to roller skate.

Maybe he’s got a brand new key.

Update…the six year year old stopped by for a brief moment to tell me he was going out for a sundae.  Am I jealous?  Little bit…

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Date Night

February 4, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

We had our wonderful annual date night this evening.  Dear friends treat us to a grown-up night out and babysit the boys to boot!  The dinner was lovely and the conversation was uninterrupted by requests for more drinks or someone calling someone a barf-face or poopiehead.  To have adult conversation and keep your train of thought is a beautiful thing.

Scarily enough we also enjoy the fact that on this night we also manage to run errands together!  It’s a pleasure to not have small ones asking for every item they see as we walk through the aisles.  I finally managed to buy the new bath mat.  Now that provided a feeling of accomplishment!

Then we ended the evening sharing a lovely bottle of wine with the wonderful couple who made the grown-up night possible.  Good times, good times.  Very interesting conversation!

 

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If you see your shadow

February 2, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

don’t run screaming.  There seem to be a lot of shadows that come out on February 2nd.  With the weather we’ve been having, the groundhog will be sure to see his shadow.  This is usually a time of year that the air is cold and the ground is frozen.  My bulbs are going to start growing soon!

Still, the colds come.  My oldest is down for the count with a lovely cough/congestion/fever-combo.  This always makes a long night for a mom.  You listen to the coughs, you keep an ear open for that faint call of “Mom…”, and you don’t really sleep.  This makes you very tired in the morning when you still have to take your younger, not sick, son to school.  And while you may think you’ll be able to do a little extra cleaning, or reading, or relaxing, you don’t.  Your entire focus is on the little sick one.  I don’t know about you, but when my sons are sick their little baby faces keep flashing in my mind’s eye.  I see them as they were as babies and toddlers, cuddling up to you.  I remember when Mommy was the center of their universe.  Tomorrow I will again be the center of his universe.  I know this  because tonight I was Mommy again instead of Mom.

Obviously I do not like when either of my sons are sick.  But a sick day does mean extra time with them.  Primarily uninterrupted time, when making them my only focus is the top priority of the day.  It brings me back to when I worked from home.  We would read stories or play or just sit together during my break times.  They would cuddle on my lap while I read essays.  As toddlers, they learned their numbers (up to 6) and how to use a computer mouse by clicking on the scores for me.

Tomorrow morning we’ll cuddle in bed, then move the cuddle-fest to the couch to watch cartoons on-demand till our brains turn to mush.  I’ll check his temperature too often, but he’ll say “it’s okay, Mommy”.  We’ll color with crayons, read books, take a little nap.  I will happily hold his 61 pound, 48 inch body on my lap.

We’ll have long conversations about dinosaurs.  We’ll read through his many dinosaur books for the umpteenth time.  Pokemon battles may be unavoidable, but you’re sick, I’ll humor you.  I’ll make him watch The Princess Bride (great movie to watch when one is sick-see “you’re sick, I’ll humor you”).  He’ll get to choose whatever he wants for lunch even if it requires Dad running out somewhere.  And the important life questions will flow freely throughout the day.  They usually get saved for right before bedtime, when I’m tired, but know I can’t rush through the answer because it’s truly important to him.  And it matters more than anything else at that moment.  We’ll even get to spend time together in silence.  Tomorrow Elmo’s blanket will be perfectly acceptable to cuddle.  There will be no discussion about maybe putting his stuffed animals in the attic.  He won’t claim they are his brother’s because tomorrow he’ll need them.

And then as he starts to feel better, I’ll know before I even reach for the thermometer.  I’ll go from Mommy back to Mom.

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Adam & Darwin & Pokemon

January 30, 2012 by pinkpigrulz

Life presents various struggles, dilemmas, and challenges to overcome.  Some are easier than others-deciding which shoes to wear with an outfit or which dessert to have after dinner.  Notice I didn’t write if to have dessert…but which dessert because you only live once and you can enjoy things like dessert in moderation.  Or be gluttonous, really, it’s up to you but live with the choices you make and please don’t whine about them.

Back to challenges.  The challenge I am about to embark on is related to my son’s faith.  Many would say it is his challenge and it is.  However, as his mom I want to help him and be there to guide him.  Since I know nothing about evolutionary theism or any of the variations on the name, I’ve got a lot to learn.  Just by doing a quick google search I have quickly learned that there is controversy surrounding it and I will need to brush up Darwin.  My oldest is grappling with balancing his growing faith in Jesus with his scientific brain.  He asked me the other day who was the first man on earth and I naturally responded Adam.  He looked at me and said, um, Mom, are you sure?  Does that fit within the eras?  I told him we’d have to research it.

Now I get to start researching it.  I have to start before him because he will advance beyond me in no time.  Evolution is everywhere.  The Pokemon world has it.  The cards evolve to stronger forms.  My youngest son is having his unbirthday party this weekend.  “The Amazing World of Gumball” is the theme.  One of the characters is named Darwin.  It’s a fish with legs.  I was trying to explain to my youngest why that is funny but he is six-evolutionary theory is a rather large topic.

Add into the mix blending that with theology and it makes my head hurt.  My head will have to hurt because my oldest is still walking his road toward baptism.  He’s been asking about baptism in the same breath he’s been asking about who was the first man.  I have not explicitly asked him yet if he is trying to find a balance because I want to be able to answer him with more than just “We’ll ask Pastor Ed.”  Trust me-we will ask Pastor Ed, but I want my son to know that I will be on the journey with him.  I want to be able to field questions from my younger son too.  He usually joins in on the conversations once he notices the level of intensity.

My youngest noticed his big brother in church on Sunday.  He realized big bro was participating in the service.  I think when he heard “Gloria Patri” he put together that the song his big bro keeps singing at bedtime came from church.

So tomorrow I will take a break during work and go to the big old library and get a book or two.  I’ll search the databases for some current information as well.  Let the learning begin.

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