Association Of Catholic Bloggers

A warm mug rests in my hands while fairies, gossamer skirts and wings floating, chase their little monster through the house. I watch them run past empty and full laundry baskets, over the clean, unfolded towels and sheets. The breakfast dishes wait on the table while I stare at holiness in bare feet, Christ in comforting disguise.

I never met a mom who thought she had enough help. So here's a few ideas to make your days a little easier. Some ideas come from me, and some from other moms, but they're all offered from someone who's been there, done that, and wants to pass on what she's learned. 1.   Ask for it.  Moms sometimes have trouble asking for help, either out of pride or because they don't want to burden those around them. "For me, the word ‘help’ stuck in my throat like a fishbone," admitted author   Serena Kirby . "When you don’t ask for help you don’t get support and research shows with decreased support comes increased isolation, anxiety, fatigue and depression," she continued. So, overcome your reluctance, and ask for the help you need! Continue reading...

I love Marie Barone in the sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond . Sure she’s a bit meddlesome. Admittedly she’s even a tad overbearing. Maybe she’s even off-putting to some. But her motivation is pure. She’s committed to her family. She really never puts herself first—even if we are led to believe that she does. If we are really paying attention, her scheming is done to ensure that her family is safe and sound and well-fed. No matter what, it is always important that they eat. As a mother of three sons, I get how my own feeling of peace is tied to the care and feeding of my boys—and so I instinctively understand why Marie is forever handing food to whomever walks through the door. “Are you hungry, dear?” she asks while handing over a plate—without any regard to the answer. Now, as my own sons grow older and the prospects of one day becoming a mother-in-law myself become a real possibility, I take note of mothers-in-law in a new way. And Marie Barone is at the

Ferdinand Georg Walmuller Sonntagrune 1859 "Every mother is like Moses... she prepares a world she will not see."  (Pope Paul VI)

When I checked my email this morning before work and opened the attachment from a colleague, I burst into tears. My colleague Mary, with whom I co-teach a Natural Science class, had put as the subject to the email "Aunt Eileen." "Aunt Eileen" was Eileen Jaqui Kuhn, 88, of Metuchen, who died on Holy Thursday at home with her family by her side. My husband and I have lived in this corner of New Jersey since 1995 and our lives have intersected with the Kuhn family's ever since. Tonight, Easter Monday, my husband and I attended Mrs. Kuhn's wake, which gave me a glimpse into the beauty of a life spent from start to finish within a three-mile pocket of friends, family, work and parish. Keep Reading....

Last night - Good Friday -  felt like the right time to download on my brand new Kindle a book - really more like a 50-plus page essay, by L.A.-based writer Heather King called "Poor Baby," a raw meditation on her three abortions. No matter one's personal history, or one's political views on whether abortion should be legal, or one's moral belief as to whether abortion ever can be an ethical choice, this book is worth reading. In fact, I would say anyone with strong views about abortion should read this book with clear eyes and an open heart. We need King's voice in the conversation. Keep Reading....

St Monica, Luis Tristán de Escamilla 1616 A post from 2009 .   And a post from 2008 . 

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

My girlfriend K., like me, was raised Catholic and like me, did not receive a full grounding in the faith.  She asked me yesterday how best to show her gratitude to God for answered prayers. "Prayer works!" she told me yesterday. "It really really works!" I'd like to ask you, dear readers, what your suggestions might be. Read more here...

"You can sleep in another lifetime," my girlfriend told me Thursday afternoon, when I complained to her during my seventh period cafeteria duty that I was bone tired  and asked her if I should show up for my 12 year old's middle school baseball game. After all, I had been to a game yesterday and he had told me he didn't care if I showed up for this away one. "Really?" she said. "You know what that means. Go to the game." Read more here...

My mom was born 81 years ago today, in her parents' home outside Baltimore, Maryland. Her father was an investment banker and her mother was an immigrant from Argentina. My mother met my father, a surgeon and the son of Italian immigrants, on the beach in St. Croix, where she was vacationing with her parents. She was 25 when she converted to the Catholic faith and married my dad. When she opens her mouth, she does so wisely; on her tongue is kindly instruction. She keeps good watch on the conduct of her household, no bread of idleness for her. Her children stand up and proclaim her blessed, her husband, too, sings her praises: Many women have done admirable things, but you surpass them all!' Proverbs 31 Read more »

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...

In Motherhood Matters , Canadian author Dorothy Pilarski writes with profundity and wit about matters practical and divine. Full of anecdotes and humor, this book makes us take an honest look at the lives of women today, and helps us to focus on what matters most. Has "liberation" truly led to greater happiness for women? Are children to be viewed as commodities, to be acquired just as we acquire a house or car? Or should children be seen as the gifts from God that they are, given to our stewardship? Dorothy makes it clear that until we rectify our confusion about such basic questions then peace of heart will elude us. To quote: We will find happiness in living out God's purpose for our lives, not our own. The culture of the early twenty-first century makes it easy to follow mistaken paths. The media bombards us with the temptation to fulfill ourselves, to find ourselves, to meet our own needs. It is a message of selfishness. And it is spread constantly. M

When I was asked by Jackie if I would like to write something for the ACWB website my initial reaction was Cool swiftly followed by the realisation (and panic) that I might actually have to write something sensible for a change . You will be relieved to hear that I decided against it... The other day I put my finger in a rat trap. Not a small one but a proper industrial trap designed to catch rats in such a way that you would never have to catch the same one twice. I did this for a simple reason. It was because I am a man and I wanted to know if it would hurt. It did . As a man I have a need to seek validation of the thoughts and opinions that I have formed through observation of my environment combined with theoretical knowledge and directed by past experience. I need to do this in order to prove to myself that my reasoning abilities are superior to anyone else's and that my judgements on the world are sound and based on logic and not guesswork. Or to put that another

On August 15, we celebrated  the Feast of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary . It was a day for us Catholics to remember how our dear Mother played a significant role in the life of Jesus, and indirectly, in the lives of each of us today. The Gospel on that day spoke about the Annunciation, and these words really struck me:   “Most blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”  Luke 1:42 When Elizabeth, Mary’s cousin, said this to her, she must have felt such joy. She was actually so moved that she broke out into song – what is known today as  the Canticle of Mary . Mama Mary had no idea then just how deeply her heart would be “pierced by a sword.” (Luke 2:35) She probably did not have any inkling as to what that verse meant too, when the prophet Simeon said it during  the Presentation of Jesus  at the temple. Indeed, nothing could probably have prepared her for this: (*the song in the video is a Filipino composition and is about how great a mother