Waiting...

So, we're still waiting for a baby at our house...

But, in the meantime I'm thinking of all the advantages to keeping him in-utero indefinitely.

• I won't have to give him the "sex-talk", ever.
• I won't have to figure out how to teach him to shave or pee standing up.
• I won't have to worry about drugs (altho' I do miss the occasional Motr.in for myself) or alcohol.
• Sleep will continue to be interrupted by contractions--which I can remain lying in bed during as opposed to a baby who must have a diaper changed.
• He won't have to go to middle school (a place and time infamous for cruelty).

Finally, I can indulge my love of science fiction and fantasy "literature" without any guilt and eat ice-cream every day--because I've been pregnant for almost 10 months (dang it!).

Which brings me to the book I read yesterday (yes, yesterday, mostly in one sitting). OA.TH OF FEALTY, by Elizabeth Mo.on--an offshoot of an amazing series (The Deeds of Paksennarion) which she wrote 20 years ago. And, I have to say, it had all of the elements of a great fantasy book--women/girls kicking butt and saving the kingdom; characters of peasant/base birth who are later revealed to be royalty; prophecy/fate (how very Presbyterian) as an inevitable part of the life course of each character; choices about the use and abuse of power, both physical and metaphysical; the intervention/interest of the gods in the lives of humans; hidden evils revealed; it was very well written; and it stands alone--no need to search out the sequel or prequel!

The only regret I have is that I read it in one day. But, I have that response to most "junk" books--that was fun while it lasted! So, what's your favorite junk book of the moment?

Extra credit if it contains vampires or women with swords...

Prodromal

I've recently added to my vocabulary the word "prodromal"

prodrome
[prō′drōm]
Etymology: Gk, prodromos, running before
1 an early sign of a developing condition or disease.
2 the earliest phase of a developing condition or disease. Many infectious diseases such as chickenpox or measles are most contagious during the prodromal period. prodromal, adj.

Which is not to say that pregnancy is contagious--but to say that the earliest signs of labor are evident. But, for those of us who've never experienced the glory of full blown labor these "early" signs can be fairly daunting--you mean this could go on for days ?! It's all the energy of waiting for Christmas, Easter and your Birthday--all whilst running for a finish line that seems to be beating it's own retreat, pulling further and further away as you begin to draw closer and closer.

Apparently actually giving birth is more elusive than I thought. Our OB offered us the option of inducing labor this week--an option we'll turn down (no matter how little I sleep darn it!). But, I'm thinking that (for me) skipping this last little bit would be sort of like going from Lent to Easter without the Holy Week in between. Christmas without the journey to Bethlehem, the empty tomb without the cross.

That said, I do hope Christmas/Easter/the boy's birthday comes soon. Like the chair waiting in anticipation for Elijah, my arms are waiting for you.

Here is Your Mother

When God is dead
We are not left alone.

"Mother, here is your son".

Who is there for you when God is dead?

Blessings on this Good Friday.

The Good Friday Quandry

This is an odd year in our household--the sorrow and grief of Good Friday juxtaposed with an expectant feeling (which to be quite honest is getting to be a feeling of "get him out!") of joyful anticipation...

And fear...

La Pieta continues to resonate.



When I served in the children's hospital it felt like the families I ministered to were trapped on Good Friday. They had all of the horror and grief without being able to see beyond to any joyful resurrection. The curtains of their hearts tore in two and the sun grew dark--as their children breathed their last. One essay I read at the time compared this loss to the loss of a limb--the pain of the moment of amputation would pass. But, life would go on with a sense of loss, the very real sense that you were missing something important. And, like an amputee living with phantom pain, the pain of losing a child would continue to haunt the parent.

La Pieta.

I want to rush through this part, this Good Friday. I don't want to think about the pain of death. I want to prepare my festive Easter garb without having to deal with the pain that comes first. I want the child without the uncertainty and pain of child birth. I want to rush through to holding my child in my arms (having every expectation of his health and safety--his diapers carefully folded, the lotion set out, his going home from the hospital outfit laid out across his dresser). I want the image of holding to be more nativity icon and less La Pieta. But, it is the same love that inspires both.

A strange Good Friday it is. But would/is any Good Friday any different?

Lenten Food

In case you wondered if all I think about are babies, specifically the one I happen to be gestating, and the church...

I also think about food.

Now, I really do enjoy cooking. I find it to be a calming discipline and at this point in my life I find that I can usually figure out what something is "missing" and rectify the situation.

Occasionally, the something that is missing is bacon...which we don't have at our house.

I have managed to build quite the mystery about what I will, and won't, eat amongst my friends and parishioners. A Lenten discipline of veganism last year (shortly after I began at my parish) really threw everyone for a loop. And, folks don't quite understand why we'll eat meat that other folk have prepared but won't cook meat at home.

I figure, that if folks are kind enough to cook it for me than I will be kind enough to eat it. (Oh, and lest I be anything but honest, we do get meat when we eat out occasionally and, for some odd reason, one of the THREE foods I could stomach during my first trimester was deli turkey) That, and people rarely cook beef for company anymore (I haven't had beef in so long that it would make me sick, and I love you, but I hate diarrhea).

So, back to what we cook at home, or don't cook in our case. Our objections to the regular consumption of meat has a great deal to do with the ethics of meat production and the amount of edible (by humans) grain used to produce meat (I think it's something like 8 pounds of grain for 1 pound of beef). Not to mention the water resources diverted for livestock propagation; coupled with an awareness that if everyone on the planet ate (drove, built, bought) like Americans this world would be in for a great deal more hurt. Oh, and to be honest, neither of us likes: gristle; meat on the bone; or those bloody veins that occasionally appear in your chicken breast; and I am afraid of poisoning us because I never learned how to cook meat (those formative cooking years of strict vegetarianism). Tofu is all one color and consistency and you don't have to worry about biting into a gross bit of cartilage hidden behind breading.

So, tofu...Tofu, beans, cheese and yogurt (yes, yes, I know that these come from cows and that these cows eat edible, by humans, grain and drink lots of water) make up our dominant protein sources. But, you'd be surprised at how much protein is in whole grain products (which we eat VAST quantities of) and even some veggies. Why do I know this you might ask? Well, for a week our birth class required a food diary to specifically count the grams of protein consumed each day (with a goal during pregnancy of 70-80 grams). My beloved and I were each getting over a 100 (!) grams of protein a day--without eating meat.

This brings me back to Lent (okay, so I said I think of other things besides my faith)...giving up meat on Fridays is not a hardship in our household--largely because we so rarely eat meat. And, I don't think it's a hardship for most folks...

What if we all ate meat only on Fridays (or pick one other day)? Perhaps, using meat like most of the world does--as a condiment. Methinks we'd all be a bit healthier--and so would the planet! And, our food might taste a bit better because we couldn't fall back on meat, veg and starch as a standard meal.

That said, I'm off to the grocery store...family will be in town this weekend and I have to feed my omnivorous relations food that we'll all enjoy. Bring on the homemade macaroni and cheese (I hate to think what would happen if we tried to get them to eat Indian lentils with sweet potatoes!)!

Ruminating on the Prodigal, Lent 4C

"'Warren,' she said, 'he has come home to die:
You needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time.'
'Home,' he mocked gently. 'Yes, what else but home?

It all depends on what you mean by home.
Of course he's nothing to us, any more then was the hound that came a stranger to us
Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail.'

'Home is the place where, when you have to go there,
They have to take you in.'

'I should have called it
Something you somehow haven't to deserve.'"

excerpt from Death of the Hired Man, by Robert Frost

This leaves me with a question...

Would I have taken him in?

The Saddest Funny Book I've Ever Read

A couple of months ago I decided that the 4th-6th grade book club I lead would pick their own book for the month of February. Terming it "funny February" I solicited suggestions for a humourous book for the month. One of the kids, a 5th grader, suggested the book "I Am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I Want to Be Your Class President", by Josh Lieb. Declaring it the "funniest book he'd ever read" he is already re-reading it in anticipation of book club.

So, today. Today, I picked up the book and started reading it--and rather than finding it to be funny I am finding it to be a book that reflects, most accurately, some painful realities: the cruelty young people can have for each other; the pain that those who do not fit the norm experience; and the fantasies of a hurting young boy made manifest on the page. Granted, I am only on chapter 8, but as I read I remember the pain of late elementary and middle school where I felt a degree of alienation that left me in tears on a regular basis. I went through my day feeling out of sync with my peers and filled with the vague sense that I was being laughed at--yet didn't know why.

Back to the book...

Oliver Watson is a self described "evil genius" whose machinations are cleverly hidden behind the mask of stupidity he has intentionally chosen to don. A chubby kid who is literally the laughing stock of his peers--so seemingly dim witted that even the teachers at school scorn and pity him--he has created a world of his own in which he reigns supreme with every wish granted, and every bully punished. The tone is snarky and dark--and Oliver's alienation more than tragic. The humor comes from the revenge he extracts and the contempt with which he holds all those around him.

Rich fodder for young people who dream of revenge...and are longing for the kind of unconditional love that only Oliver's mother and dog offer.

It reminds me most deeply of my experience in mid-elementary school. Usually alone on the playground at recess I smarted from being excluded and different. The relentless teasing of my class mates didn't end when I went home--to siblings who were all to eager to point out the hint of a lisp I still carried and to call my solid build "fat". I desperately wanted to get back at them for their cruelty but actual action was beyond me. One day at recess I decided to imagine a world in which I had a supersonic scream--a scream so piercing and awful that anyone who was mean to me within range would fall down dead (I think I remember imagining blood pouring from their ears). So, there I was, spinning around in circles. Screaming at the top of my lungs with my eyes closed. Imagining the bodies falling around me. Soon thereafter, the bell rang and I headed back to class.

So, rather than funny, I find this book sad. And, I am saddened for the young people who's screams are not heard and who long for revenge in the midst of their own powerlessness.