Okay, he loses a few point for naming his daughter “Coco,” since she doesn’t appear to be a chimpanzee; but this is pretty funny:
(via Gawker)
Author: simchajfisher
Psst, Episcopalians! Over here!
So, Catholics, you think your bishop is no good? Think he’s gone off the rails? Think he barely even sounds Christian anymore? IT COULD BE WORSE.
Seven Quick Takes: The Thing and the Other Thing, and so on up to seven
1. Scott Richert is raising funds for the Rockford Area Pregnancy Care Center with a walk for life. You may know Scott for his yeoman’s work on About.com. I consult his Catholicism page all the time, and am very grateful for his clear and thorough information about the Church! His fundraiser is on fire right now, and he has blown past several goals already. If you want to get in on sending a lovely big check to this very worth cause, check out the RAPCC fundraising page.
2. A couple of days ago, I shared an illuminating article, “The Sin of Adoption,” by Brianna Heldt. It explores the ins and outs of international adoption, and how Catholics, evangelicals, and non-religious people respond to the insanely complicated nuances and, well, complications of the issue. It was responding to a rather nasty article in called “Orphan Fever” published in Mother Jones. Darwin Catholic has posted a response by another Catholic, who does a good job of “poking some holes” in the Mother Jones article. Very interesting stuff! I can’t help feeling grateful that it’s extremely unlikely our family ever has to make our way through a minefield like international adoption. These articles raise my esteem even higher for couples who do manage to fight their way through.
3. Today is the feast day of one of my favorite saints (and one of my husband’s patrons), Fr. Damien of Molokai.
His feast day is not on the day of his death, as is traditional — apparently so that it wouldn’t fall during Lent. Here’s a short introduction to this wonderful saint, who volunteered, as a young priest, to minister to the lepers who were quarantined on a squalid island and living like animals. I have heard that no one else dared to come to the island, because leprosy is so contagious; so when Fr. Damien wanted to go to confession, he had to shout across the water to another priest who was safely in a rowboat. I always imagined the conversation like this:
Fr. Damien: Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I lost my temper, and was impatient . . .
Confessor: What?
Fr. Damien: I said I lost my temper, and I was impatient!
Confessor: What?
Fr. Damien: DAMMIT, TAKE THE WAX OUT OF YOUR EARS! I SAID, I WAS IMPATIENT . . .
4. Have I ever told you about the joys of raising little girls? The ones at home are 17 months, 4, and 5. I usually do my writing in the morning, and they pal around together, doing the things that little girls do — you know, dress up in princess dresses, quietly swipe my camera, lie down in the driveway and pretend to be dead, quietly put my camera back . . .
5. My husband stopped working for a certain newspaper back in January. If you have any experience with a newspaper office, you may realize that they are not necessarily on the cutting edge of technology.
They had this system, for instance, where they would print out a draft of the paper and then pass from the editorial office to the production office through a hole in the floor. Sometimes it would get stuck, so they had a special stick just for poking it through. So, the other day, they called him up out of the blue, asking him to mail him the key to the office, which they claim he never returned. He suggested that they just make a copy of their existing key. They said, “You can’t just do that!” And they’re right, you can’t. There’s no such thing as Home Depot. No such thing!!!! (They also said, when he suggested putting video clips on their website, that if people wanted to see video, they’d watch TV. So there you are.) Mamas, don’t let your children grow up to be journalists. Unless your children are jerks and have it coming.
6. I now have two bumper stickers on my car! One is for my kids’ school (and I can’t tell you how moved I was when one of the board members suggested I put one on. I always assumed they’d rather keep that affiliation quiet.) The other one is this one:
Well, this is the cropped version I can manage to upload, because I am a technological moron today. The actual bumper sticker is the entire word “COEXIST,” with the little baby in the O. I got it as a gift from Arina Grossu, and I love it. I can’t figure out who’s selling them, though. On the sticker, it says “Isa-Life Productions.” Anyone know anything about them? And yes, now that I have a pro-life bumper sticker on my car, I’ve been a little more careful not to drive like such an ass. In fact, I was formerly in the habit of driving with my ass. And they gave me a ticket for it! Now what am I supposed to do? Say, “I’m sorry, your honor, I’m not as limber as I used to be?”
7. This week, I’ve lost more friends on Facebook than I can ever remember doing, and I’m not even sure why. I guess I’ve been pretty rude and pushy, suspicious and nasty, and have taken things in the worst possible way. To anyone I’ve offended with my words this week, please consider this my apology to you:
Let Loose the Kraken
Ray Harryhausen, master of the stop motion animation in Clash of the Titans andJason and the Argonauts has died. Tom McDonald has the scoop.
Here’s one of my favorite scenes, right down to the pouring forth of the ketchup at the end:
That hairy, herky-jerky stop motion look is a thousand times more sinister and otherwordly than smooth-as-silk computer animation, innit? It’s like the monsters are moving in a slightly different kind of air from everyone else, which is as it ought to be. RIP.
Five things I honestly thought were favorites until I started writing about them
Trying something new today:
1 and 2. Bras that actually fit. I’ve been meaning and meaning and meaning to go to this store that does bra fittings. On the one hand, I’ve been breastfeeding for a total of something like 146 months, and I walk like a cripple because I’m trying to hide the fact that my shirt fronts look weird. On the other hand, I knew I was going to have to go in there and let them look at me, like, look at me, and possibly touch me.
So I while I was working up the courage for that, I checked out this site Her Room (CUSTODY OF THE EYES WARNING IT’S ABOUT BRAS AND WHAT IS IN BRAS, SO, YOU KNOW) at doesn’t just ask your band and cup size, but it wants to know allllllll about how exactly you’re shaped and — I mean, exactly how you are shaped, and, um, how’s it hanging, and such. And then it makes specific recommendations for you. Very clever and well done. But by the end of it, it was like, “So, based on your input that you are a lumpy, pulpy, pendulous, glutinous, lopsided hag with something weird going on in the collar bone, we recommend the LALALALIQUE Titanium Ultra Whalebone Empresse Sassinesse Toujours Gai Ultra Suspension System Plus (may not available in leopard print) to wear under your turtlenecks.” And I’m like, yay, you helped. Now I want to go dig a hole and jump in it and never come out.
Anyway, after moping and stewing for a few more days, I put on some extra deodorant and dragged myself to this little lingerie shop in a nearby town, and asked for a bra fitting. And it wasn’t humiliating or awful or anything. The woman was professional and matter-of-fact and sympathetic, and I bought two bras (spending about as much as I would normally spend on six bras and a bottle of wine), and they are great. Just great. I don’t have to think about my chest all the time, or constantly seek out discreet corners where I can duck in and do some furtive rearranging all the time. Blessed relief! Recommended.
3. The over the tank toilet paper holder.
This does not actually solve our current bathroom problem, which involves a stud finder that doesn’t find studs, a wall that spits out wall anchors with an almost audible “ptui” of contempt, and kids who see me buying accessories that make one room — just one lousy room — of the house look normal, and they think, “Challenge accepted.” I think that if we want to have a toilet paper holder that stays put, we’re going to have to wall up one section of the bathroom with concrete, install molly bolts, and use them to chain the children to the wall so they can’t tear down the toilet paper holder, which will be on the other wall. But for your house, maybe an over-the-tank model would help.
4. I like to drink wine more than I used to. Anyway, I’m drinking more. Yellow Tail is pretty good!
Because the experts says that if it tastes good, then it is good, right? Anyway, I’m drinking more.
5. So, I suppose everyone’s seen the Dove thing where it turns out the pretty ladies are pretty but *sob* they didn’t quite realize that they were pretty.
No, but seriously, I think it’s nice of Dove to be making an effort to make women feel okay, even if only in a very limited way; and I always admire a very smart marketing idea. And I love that they set themselves up for this parody, which I suppose everyone has also already seen:
So, when I saw the first one for the first time, I immediately thought of my mother. I’ll never forget the life lesson she taught me one day. She had read somewhere that most women are not nearly as fat as they think they are. The article suggested that a woman should take two chairs and set them up, with their backs facing each other, so that they are as far apart as her hips are wide. “Go ahead and walk between the chairs,” the article urged, “And you will see that you have overestimated your hip width by several inches!”
“By gum, I’m gonna try that,” my mother says. So she sets up the two chairs, takes a few steps back, and then strides through — and knocks over both chairs. Kablammo! Well, she had eight kids! And anyway, she’s skinny again now. What do you want.
Well, it’s possible I’ve missed the point of Five Favorites. To see how it’s supposed to be done, head over to Hallie Lord’s site, Moxie Wife, and check out the other links! Happy Wednesday or whatever it is.
Book review: _Dominic_ by William Steig
The other day, my son said the most wonderful thing for me: “Can you recommend a book?” I’ve tried to keep my mouth shut while I’ve watched him plow through mountains of garbage. My general principle is that, if you expose your kids to enough really good stuff, they will soon get tired of the crap on their own–which is much more effective than hearing an adult say, “That book you’re enjoying is crap, so put it down!” So he read a lot of Goosebumps (ptui), for instance, but also Tolkein and C.S. Lewis; and eventually, he started throwing out the Goosebumps of his own accord, just so no one else would read it. (NB: I don’t, of course, let the kids read just anything. But there are good books and bad books, and then there’s a vast middleground of useless books. The Goosebumps series falls into this category.)
Anyway, our local library is pretty small, but when my son asked for a recommendation, I happened on a couple of books by William Steig. I thought Steig only did picture books — some of which are among our favorites. But we found two which are designed for slightly older kids — say, grade 3 and up. I read Dominic, and was completely delighted.
It begins,
Dominic was a lively one, always up to something. One day, more restless than usual, he decided there wasn’t enough going on in his own neighborhood to satisfy his need for adventure. He just had to get away.
My ten-year-old son read this and realized that this book would speak directly to his adventure-dog heart. Dominic finds some excitement immediately, and continues on his way, meeting a dying pig named Bartholomew Badger, an overwhelmed goose named Matilda Fox (the mismatched last names are a running joke, just for the heck of it) and repeatedly falling afoul of the evil Doomsday Gang.
Steig’s language is sort of artificially elevated (and so younger readers or listeners might have to able to figure some words out by context:
Dominic was inside the rib cage, in a sort of succulent prison, and they might have trapped him there; but when they saw him chewing on the big bones with such furious dedication, they were paralyzed with terror.
Steig relishes fancy words, and he really pulls it off in Dominic — to much better effect, I think, than he does in some of his other books. In The Toy Brother, for instance, the ornate language just draws attention to itself, and comes off as precious rather than playful.
Dominic is also nicely illustrated by Steig in black-and-white.
Good stuff! Perfect for the parent who wishes the boys in the family had some heroes who are easy to like, but who are not Captain Underpants.
Yorinks and Egielski
I had totally forgotten about this book until one of the kids dragged it up yesterday evening:
Oh, Brother by Arthur Yorinks and Richard Egielski
Like most of the books done by this pair, it’s quick, it’s funny, it’s more than a little weird, and it has a nice, happy ending. Two brothers can’t stop squabbling with each other, not even when their life depends on it. Things go from bad to worse until they have to hatch a ridiculous plan to survive — and when they get found out, all is well again. Many nice touches, like the sad slump of the tailor’s mannequin when the brothers are in mourning. Siblings who love each other but who are constantly trying to kill each other (or parents who have kids like this) will get a kick out of it.
Also check out a couple of the other crazy and wonderful books by this author/illustrator team:
Christmas in July (my husband can’t get through this book without cracking up. It holds the memorable line: “Hi, I’m Santa. Got any pants?”)
It Happened in Pinsk (this one is priced outrageously for new editions, so you’d have to get it used. I love this book so much. Maybe a teeny bit like Kafka for kids, if Gregor Samsa turned back into a person and was happy and grateful for his life from there on out.)
Prayers for Jen Fulwiler and her new baby boy!
Jen Fulwiler of Conversion Diary and “Minor Revisions” fame had her sweet baby boy last night! Her entire pregnancy has been an enormous ordeal — first a pulmonary embolism landed her in the hospital with lungs so clogged with blood clots, the doctors said she ought to be dead. Then she had to endure a horrible planned procedure which . . . I don’t even know what to say. I feel like that lady who had her baby in a tree during the Mozambique flooding would feel sorry for her.
So the baby was born! But Jen says:
Unfortunately, he has some breathing problems (unrelated to my medical issues) that mean that he requires NICU care, and is now being transferred to a NICU at a different hospital with better facilities. Even more unfortunately, I have to stay here at the delivery hospital until we get my blood thinners under control. I haven’t even seen him that much since he’s been born.
Hallie keeps sending me encouraging texts telling me I’m being so strong. I’ve been meaning to follow up and ask her for some examples of what “not being strong at all” would look like. Because I’m pretty sure that that’s what I’m actually doing.
Needless to say, this is a stressful situation for all involved, so we appreciate any prayers you can offer. Thanks again for all your wonderful support.
Beautiful pic of the siblings meeting their new brother on Jen’s blog.
Please pray for quick healing for both of them, and for a speedy reunion!
Start your week off right . . .
by being a good citizen and doing something super easy to protect religious freedom. Today is the last day to submit public comment on the new “proposed rule” for the HHS Mandate.
As you must have heard a blillion times by now, the mandate would require employers to provide health insurance coverage for contraception, sterilization and abortifacient drugs. You have probably heard that the administration has altered the law and made a compromise that fixes the problem.
Well, they haven’t. It doesn’t. If you go to this page which gives you a VERY, VERY EASY way to submit a public comment, you will see a fact sheet from the USCCB at the bottom which explains why the fix is no fix. Basically, if you’re the owner of Our Blessed Lady’s Catholic McCatholicy Home for Catholic Catholics and Rosary Giveaways to Catholics, you will still be required to pay for your secretary’s sterilization and her ten-year-old daughter’s “education” about where she can find the morning after pill. This is how they fixed it for us.
The government is basically telling the people they’re only allowed to be Catholic when they’re actually inside the Church building. Even if you’re not religious, that should make you very afraid! Go here to let the administration know that the mandate is still unacceptable, still a flagrant violation of our religious freedom.
And now, once you’ve done the right thing and added your public comment, which is very easy to do and takes like forty seconds, here is your video to start the rest of your Monday off right (and yes, there is a tie-in, but it’s so flimsy I’m just going to let it go):
7 Humiliatingly Slow Takes with Huffing and Puffing Afterward
1. I don’t know how successfully I’ve hidden this in the few photos of myself that I’ve put online, but I am 5’5″ and in the last fifteen years, I’ve put on average of seven pounds of permanent weight for each baby. This is what happens when all you do is sit down.
2. I was having stabbing pain, excruciating burning from my lower back down to my toes, tingling, numbness, and general unpredictable sciatic misery, which finally sent me to the doctor, because I couldn’t believe that I could become that debilitated just from doing nothing. The x-ray revealed that I have “mild to moderate degeneration” between the discs of my spine, brought on by age, weight gain, and inactivity, or, in layman’s terms, being a loser. I am adding that phrase, “mild to moderate degeneration,” to my list of possible new names for the new blog I’ll never start. Other possibilities I’ve gathered over the years include what Mark Shea called me one time (“History’s Greatest Monster”), what an outraged reader told my editor (“Fisher Is Unrepentant!”), and what my mechanic wrote about the van (“Misfires Badly Under Any Significant Load”).
3. A sad little drama recently played out in a shopping plaza nearby. First there was nothing but a Curves Gym. Then Five Guys Burger and Fries moved in next door. Curves held out for a while, but one day the windows went dark, and they packed up and moved away, presumably shaking their chubby fists in rage, with an embarrassing amount of flappy movement around the upper arm area, as they went. And then, in the space where Curves used to be, Rick’s Gourmet Ice Cream moved in.
4. This is not going to become one of those tedious blogs that does nothing but record how many reps or grams or kilos or whatever (wait, I think I’m talking about cocaine now) of cardio I accomplished and which variety of kale I like to add to my puke smoothie. (Sorry, I just friggin hate the whole smoothie thing. You still have teeth, people. Use ‘em.) I will try not to make a big deal out of it unless I think it would be genuinely interesting to someone besides myself and my doctor.
5. I picked out an exercise DVD that looked like a reasonable place to start. Today, I did it for the first time, and had two shocks: one is that it’s designed for senior citizens; and two, it wasn’t easy to keep up. Argh. Yep, ol’ Jane Fonda is going on and on about her titanium hip and how great it is that we’re doing so much to combat memory loss, and I’m screaming on the inside “ISN’T TWENTY MINUTES UP YET, YOU HOLLOW CHEEKED BITCH?”
6. I used to be able to run five miles. Cursing the whole way, but still, I used to be able to do it. Now, I can’t even curse for five miles straight, running or not. I don’t even have profanity stamina anymore.
7. In the week that has passed since I wrote #1-6, I have put off reading what Pope Francis said about people who complain about 73 distinct times. Because look, I got the flu, which meant that I was too weak and feverish to do my back exercises, which meant that I couldn’t sleep because of back pain, which meant that the baby decided this would be a fine time to give up sleeping. Like, just quit, flat out. She goes to bed at the normal time, but wakes up at 1:30, ready to play. The next two hours are spent with constructive thoughts like, “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME” and “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION” and “I THINK I HAVE TWO FRIENDS NAMED LYDIA BUT MAYBE ONLY ONE I’M NOT SURE ABOUT THAT BECAUSE THERE IS THAT ONE LYDIA BUT THEN THERE IS THAT OTHER ONE ALSO AND THAT MAKES TWO BUT ON THE OTHER HAND I’M NOT SURE HOW MANY FRIENDS I HAVE NAMED LYDIA.” (See, fever.) Then I went to throw up, but my back hurt too much to reach the toilet. Also, I took a shower and it turned out the soap had a bug on it, and I was washing myself with bug.
And THAT’S why I say sometimes it’s okay to just go through your medicine chest and see what you can find. Because, sheesh.
For someone with real problems, NOT brought on by being a loser, check out our 7 Quick Takes host, Jen Fulwiler.