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This morning, I am sitting in the family room, reading a memoir and nursing a sore throat with cough drops. Boy turning 13 tomorrow comes  bounding down the stairs in bare feet, wearing jeans, a white tee and black suspenders. He is dribbling a soccer ball.  Keep Reading...

When a passenger plane carrying 87 people from Boston was deliberately flown by five al-Quaeda hijackers into Tower One of the World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m. September 11, 2001, my husband was standing his desk on the 68th floor. He was knocked to the floor by the impact. Right now as I type this, he's sitting next to me on the family sofa.  Keep Reading Here...

The Lord's Prayer in Filipino Sign Language Readings   (New American Bible: Philippines, USA) Readings (Jerusalem Bible: Australia, England & Wales, India [optional], Ireland, New Zealand, Pakistan, Scotland, South Africa)  Gospel  Mark 7:31-37   (Revised Standard Version – Catholic Edition) Then Jesus returned from the region of Tyre, and went through Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, through the region of the Decapolis. And they brought to him a man who was deaf and had an impediment in his speech; and they besought him to lay his hand upon him. And taking him aside from the multitude privately, he put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue; and looking up to heaven, he sighed, and said to him, "Ephphatha," that is, "Be opened." And his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. And he charged them to tell no one; but the more he charged them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. And they were asto

I glanced at the clock when I heard my husband say to my oldest son, “Call me when you get home.” “Where is he?” I asked. When my husband replied, “He’s on his way home from work,” my stomach began churning. Not the hunger-type churn but the worried-mother-type churn. Our son had purchased a home just months before and was still getting a handle on things but between work and other demands, it wasn’t easy. My husband and I—and his brothers—had all helped out with painting, cutting the lawn, some electrical and lighting things and so on. It took all our willpower (my husband’s and mine) not to completely take over, but to just be available to help if and as needed. We wanted to take care of our son, get him set up in his new house. Mostly, I wanted—needed, really—to know that he was “okay” and that he wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the demands of new home ownership. The point of the call was to set up a date and a time that my husband would be able to come and help wit

“From the beginning therefore he [man] is called to work. Work is one of the characteristics that distinguish man from the rest of creatures, whose activity for sustaining their lives cannot be called work. Only man is capable of work, and only man works, at the same time by work occupying his existence on earth. Thus work bears a particular mark of man and of humanity, the mark of a person operating within a community of persons. And this mark decides its interior characteristics; in a sense it constitutes its very nature.” Blessed John Paul wrote these words in his encyclical Laborem Exercens in 1981. I’ve referred to this encyclical many times in my own writings and in attempting to get at the very nature of who I am as a Catholic woman, wife, mother, author, and teacher. I have found in his words a timeless truth—no surprise there!—and a certain sense of peace as well. Whether I have worked outside of the home out of necessity or out of a desire, balancing work with family al

I remember when my first son was in need of his first haircut.  I took him to a professional stylist and, with 35mm camera in hand, clicked away, literally walking around and around his seat, so that, once developed, the pictures would immortalize that very special day in my life, in his life, in the world, I was sure. By the time my third son was in need of his first haircut, I let my mom have at it and, as it turned out, time did not improve her hair-cutting skills.  My youngest son ended up with the same bangs that I had worn some 30 years earlier — a wavy line of hair jutting out all over the place somewhere between eyebrows and the hairline. Things really do change from the first born to the second and then to the third.  And as that is all the children we were blessed with, I can go no further with my experience but my assumptions would be that by the fifth or sixth child, he or she may very well be performing his or her own first haircut. Now, my oldest is now a college

Today our 12-year-old son tidied up garbage in Abuelita's garage, where their spaniel went snacking.  Today he stayed with Grandpapi so I could take Abuelita grocery shopping.   Read more here...

Toward the end of my daily commute to work, as I head 40 miles an hour down a state highway,  I have often seen a white Volvo parked at the edge of a driveway, its motor running and lights on. I often wondered if it was a unmarked police car. But then again, what police officers do you know who drive Volvo cruisers? Then, one day I was running late and a school bus stopped just before the driveway. I stopped too. A little girl got out of the Volvo, the bus drove off and then her father drove out the driveway. Mystery revealed. Dad waits with his daughter in the car until the bus comes, then heads off to work. These family rituals are so important. Our family now consists of two working parents and two busy teenagers. (Boys who do not like their pictures taken) Long gone are the days when my husband and I would load our sons, in their pajamas, into the double stroller and walk to the ice cream parlor for an evening treat. Gone too, are the days when our so

Last night, I bought a frozen Paul Newman pizza for dinner and our 12 year old made a large salad. Since our family comes home for dinner in shifts, I took a tiny slice of pizza and warned the 12 year old to leave enough for dad and his older brother. Guess I should have written a memo to the teen: I returned to the kitchen about 20 minutes later and there was no sign of the pizza. Seems between the two boys, the pizza was gone. Evaporated. A friend who raised four children told me that all pizzas should come with a label saying that one pizza serves half a teenaged boy. I ended up serving really emergency food - cans of Chef Boyardee ravioli. Yuck and Yikes. My husband read on my facebook wall that I was heating it up and said he'd stop by the deli for a sandwich.  Read more here...

 Through our baptism, we're called to be royal, priestly parents to our children, exercising our God-given authority with kindness and benevolence. When we truly understand the essence of our authority, we can be leaders and nurturers of our children and help them to become the nurturers and leaders of the future .~ from Strengthening Your Family by Marge Fenelon, p.176  I did a lot of babysitting when I was young and became quite proficient at handling other people's children. I wondered at some parents' inability to control their children in church and other public places, since I rarely had any problem getting my little charges to listen to me. There was no doubt in my mind that I would someday be a  model parent with model children, all sitting quietly in the pew with rapt attention. However, when I finally married, God in His wisdom saw fit to send me the most rambunctious little girl ever created, the kind of child who loves to perform in publi

Every year since my husband and I started having babies, I have written and mailed a family Christmas letter. The first year, I hand wrote it since we didn't have a home computer and I traced our infant son's hand in the letter. For me, our first letter was a sign I really was a grown up. After all, I now had a husband, a baby, a washing machine and an annual Christmas letter. Today, I emailed this year's letter to a dear friend, a graduate student who has moved home to Milan. "Thanks for the letter!" she emailed back. "Is it an American tradition? I've never read one before." Read more here...

Last night, I awakened at least four times due to tingling hands and feet and, frankly, stinky perspiration. As I live out my fiftieth year on the planet, I am experiencing that change of life that is the trade-off for the miraculous ability to nurture life inside me and give birth to children. As a culture, we rightly celebrate women's fertility. A woman of child-bearing age is considered the most beautiful of all. Think Jennifer Lopez.  I've never looked anything like her, but the thing is, she is beautiful in this picture largely because she looks so fertile. Read more here...

How I don't want to enter this debate but I feel compelled to!  As far as I see it you have two ends of the pop cultural media extreme.   One end has the Duggars who because of their faith feel that sex is for reproduction only and have the 19 plus one on the way to prove it.  Then other is Glee, (I don't enjoy Glee only saw one episode and thought it was boring), were Rachel and Blaine have their first sexual experience: Glee Recap: "The First Time" Season 3, Episode 5 Nov 8, 2011 09:00 PM ET by Natalie Abrams In this week's episode of Glee, opening night for West Side Story is approaching but the leading stars have yet to really experience the type of passion they're meant to convey in the show. Blaine and Rachel's journey towards their first times are quite different, but both enlightening. Now both of these examples are exploitative; the Duggars who want to preach to American their version of Family Value when it seems to me that

The Duggars are expecting another child. For most families, that is exciting news, welcome news, joyous news. But beyond close friends and family, that news draws a mild response at most - hopefully of the "Oh, good." variety. The Duggars are not most families though. Jim Bob and Michelle have nineteen children, so decent math skills will tell you that this little one is the twentieth branch on their family tree. The reaction this revelation elicits from some quarters is very negative: outrage, repugnance, mockery. There are comments about Michelle spontaneously popping out a baby every time she sneezes, or Jim Bob not knowing how babies are made. People are snide and cruel - not to mention insulting and invasive with their comments and questions. If you know anything at all about the Duggar family, if you've seen them on Good Morning America, or caught an episode of their TLC program, you know they are good people. They are responsible and civic-minded. Their childr

  Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passion, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence. ~John Adams We are in the middle of a war. It is a war which involves every man, woman and child because it is a war not only for our culture but for our souls. The main battlegrounds of this war appear to be the minds and hearts of women because it is women who make or break family life. Once family life is destroyed or corrupted then the state becomes supreme with each and every one of us as its puppets. When women are degraded then the entire society loses it dignity and heroism. Once a people lose their nobility of soul and sense of honor then there is nothing left to them but enslavement. We now waver at the brink but all is not lost for we have women who see things as they are and are not afraid to talk about it. Journalist and radio talk show host Teresa Tomeo is one such woman who assesses the fa

By Allison Salerno If you want to experience the vibrancy of the Christian faith, I encourage you to head to Manhattan on Martin Luther King weekend in January.  Hey - if enough of you decide to show up, perhaps we can make plans to meet for espresso. Let me know! The New York Encounter, which begins on Friday, January 13,  is an annual three-day cultural festival sponsored by the ecclesiastical group Communion and Liberation and Crossroads Cultural Center. It is free and family friendly, with plenty of kids and babies and teens and grandparents. The setting is near Penn Station, at  he Manhattan Center. Last year, I was deeply moved by the young adults I met who are the next generation of faith-filled Catholics. I spent hours attending beautiful artistic presentations and stimulating talks. I also volunteered with my teenaged son at the espresso bar, which gave me the opportunity to meet young Catholics from across the United States and the rest of the globe. Thi

Please visit the new Tea at Trianon Forum . It will be a place to discuss the same topics we discuss on my blog, but in more detail. Anyone can join. On the forum people will be able to introduce topics for discussion. Comments will be posted immediately, without having to wait for me to moderate them. Members will be able to post links and pictures and make block quotes, which is so much easier for trying to get one's point across. There are three main rules: 1. Be polite. 2. Be polite. 3. Be polite. The forum is for ladies and gentlemen. If you are not a lady or a gentleman then it is not the forum for you. Courtesy must be observed at all times. Members are asked to refrain from personal attacks, sarcasm, slanderous remarks about ANYONE and general snarkiness. While questions and inquiries are welcome, any attacks upon the Catholic Church or the Pope will be deleted immediately. We also ask that our guests stay on topic. Off topic comments will be subjec

Deep in the night, while most of us are asleep in our beds, the mother of a teenager I know begins her 10-hour shift stocking shelves at a discount store. She starts at 2 a.m. At noon, while many of us are taking a lunch break, she is leaving work and driving to other people's homes to make extra money cleaning them. She's usually asleep when daughter returns home from high school. The daughter has about three hours between returning home from school and heading to a store, where she works four hours every weeknight. Her father's workday begins at 7:30 a.m. and he is home by 6 - after she has left for her job. Her older sister, with whom she shares a bedroom in the family's apartment, works 40 hours a week at the same discount store as the mom and takes one class a semester at a community college. The family rarely is awake at the same time, and seldom eats meals together. Read more here....

I worry over how much time I spend writing and reading in the blogosphere. This morning in the mailbox came a thank-you letter that brought me to tears of joy and made me realize the time I spend is not wasted. Jamie and Kim Arpin-Ricci thanked me for standing beside them during their adoption journey and shared pictures of their new family. I never have met any of these people face to face. I have never even spoken with them on the phone. And yet, because of this new and crazy place called the blogosphere, I have been able to pray for them. Read more here.

Joachim and Anne.  Parents of a child conceived without sin.  The smug in me might like to think, oh, fortunate Joachim and Anne...to raise a child without sin!  But a moment of reflection reminds me that Joachim and Anne battled sin.  Just like me.  Just like all of us. Would I trade places? What might that be like?  While the idea of my own children being sinless sounds so...peaceful; the idea my children being sinless and me still in my present state ...sounds...disastrous. Such a high calling for Joachim and Anne .  Little Mary, always sweet, always obedient, always kind.  Joachim and Anne, sometimes tired from toil, sometimes anxious about their future, sometimes perhaps short tempered.  How any small acts that fall short of holiness might appear beside a sinless maiden.   "Of what small spots pure white complains." No, I would not trade.  Anne and Joachim were given their particular task.  And the grace to fulfill it.  I was given my particular task.  Mothers