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Their Bad Mother

Well, most of us. Pneumonia and stomach flu – yes! both! at the same time! – have knocked me and my husband and Emilia right off of our feet. But not Jasper: Jasper believes that there’s no plague that can’t be made more interesting with a little light jazz. He might have a point.

Kinda the last person you’d expect to meet at a women’s social media conference, but apparently he was attending a Tea Party or something and the rest is history. We are, like, total BFFs now. Me and Bill O’Reilly, too. Maybe later I’ll have dinner with Sarah Palin. YOU NEVER KNOW.

I’m not sure who is worse off, him or me. Do mothers ever get over feeling anxious and guilty when their little ones get sick? Or is this just motherhood: one long stretch of joy woven with frustration, anxiety and heartache?

So when I said, the other day, that I avoid getting myself into a state of outrage? I might have lied, because it seems that nearly every day these days there is some fresh evil provoking me to outrage. Last week, it was non-consensual nether-probes being performed on Canadian women; today, it’s disturbing diaper ads…

I don’t get outraged about a lot of things. It takes a lot of energy to get outraged, and I don’t have a whole lot of energy to spare, what with wrangling two manically spirited children and training for half-marathons and what-not. A few things are more or less guaranteed to provoke me to ranting…

(What? That frilly get-up is so totally princely, if we’re thinking princes circa 1492. Totally.) (I’ve missed two days of training because of a terrible, sinus-and-eardrum-busting head cold. Tomorrow – fingers crossed – the fairy wings go back on and Jasper (traveling by jogging stroller) and I (jogging) will hit the road again. Wish me…

I’ve made a few resolutions for this year. Most of them are pretty ordinary: get more sleep, eat better, watch less television, learn to bake cinnamon rolls. Some of them are little more ambitious. One – my resolution to fully and actively embrace my desire to find, or at least better understand, faith – I’ve…

To say that Emilia got angry at the sledding hill today would be to understate things dramatically, although it was never clear whether she was mad at the insufficiently slippery snow, the insufficiently steep slope, or both. Neither apologized.

Emilia and her boyfriend. I KNOW.

I haven’t made a whole lot of headway in my faith journey this past week. In part because what faith I do have was shaken a bit by the disaster in Haiti – what kind of God wreaks such destruction? what kind of God has followers like Pat Robertson who say that such destruction was…
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