Time for a laugh!

This is for the Mothers of Many. I feel your pain.

Thanks to the Modest Mama!

The Chicken and the Egg.

Sunday evening, the Philosophical Family sat down to a simple meal of pasta, salad, and hard-boiled eggs.

Bella (age 3) observed matter-of-factly, as she peeled her egg, "We arwe eating the baby chickens!"

To which Ana (age 1) replied, "BAAAYY-BEE!"

Miriam, the prescient 6-year-old, however, was not so sanguine.

"Dad, are we really eating baby chickens?"

"No, there are no babies in these eggs. They are unfertilized." Scientist Dad replied. "Do you know what 'unfertilized' means, Miriam?"

"Uh. No." She took a bite, refusing to pursue the definition of "unfertilized."

I could see it coming, and--after a prolonged but thoughtful munch on the not-baby-chicken--The Question came.

"Dad, why are there no babies in these eggs, but there are babies in other eggs?"

I did what you should never do: I giggled.

Scientist Dad did what you should do: "Well, what do you think, Miriam?"

"I have no idea!" She really didn't.

I stopped giggling and, as penance for my sin, stepped in.

"Well, Miriam, who lays the egg--the girl chicken or the boy chicken?" I asked.

Now she was back on familiar ground, "The girl chicken!"

"Who has babies--girls or boys?"

"Girls!"

"And if there isn't a daddy, can a girl be a mommy?" (Chickens don't deliberately use IVF, to my knowledge. Scientist Dad confirms this to be so.)

"No, she can't. There has to be a boy chicken, too."

"It's like that with these eggs: the mommy has the eggs ready for the babies. But if there's no rooster nearby, there will be no babies in the egg."

"Oh!" she saw. "I see! If the Daddy Chicken doesn't live near the Mommy Chicken, then there are no babies in the chicken's eggs!"

And that, my friends, is how it is.

I repented my giggle, Miriam got her answer, and the Scientist Dad enjoyed a good meal. Be ready the next time you boil an egg for your child. You never know where the dinner conversation will go...

A little plug for classical education.

This email came from a friend this morning (reprinted with permission, names changed to protect the innocent). It gave me a chuckle as I prepared with some trepidation to distill the Viking Exploration for a 6-year-old:

"So, I found myself at a restaurant dinner recently with a nice middle-aged woman on my left and her college-aged son on my right. She was understandably proud of her handsome boy, Dave, and noted how well he was doing at a state university (major undeclared). To be polite, she asked about my son, Norman, a student at St. Gregory Academy, a conservative Catholic all-boys boarding high school that boasts 'no technology' as a policy. This point slipped into my succinct answer to her question, and it stunned her.

"'No Facebook? No iPads? No Google searches? No laptops? No software skills?'

"'No,' I said. 'We see it as a distinction between classical education and technical training. We think Norman can pick up applicable computer skills after we get his head filled with great thoughts. Our view, and that of the school, is that there are only so many hours in a day, and we’d rather have Norman spend time on Aquinas and Homer than PowerPoint and Excel.'

"'But you can’t just skip computers,' she said. 'All of Dave's school work is done with computers. And he knows all that classical stuff, too.'

"I turned to her son. 'Dave, what are the two great epic poems of Homer?'

"Dave smiled. 'Simpson?'”

Best social commentary.

My new favorite commercial... This is living.

Miriam the Philosopher.

Miriam offered to do the dishes last week, and I figured that a little splashing in the sink wouldn't hurt anyone. To my delight, she actually washed them effectively! She has been happily doing my lunch dish work for the last few days. She's thrilled to be a big girl. I'm thrilled to let her do the dishes.

As she approaches 6 years old (oh, wow), she's also becoming quite the existentialist.

If you have any answers (that do not involve Sartre) to the following, please let me know.

Miriam the Platonist: "Mummy? If Daddy had married a different Mummy, would I be Miriam?"

Miriam the Thomist: "Mummy. If God had not made me to be me, who would I have been?"

Bella (3 years old): "Miwiam is so silly!"

Miriam the Wittgensteinian: "Mummy? If Daddy had married a different Mummy, would he live in this house?"

Miriam the Aristotelian: "Mummy. Why is the world so wonderful?"

Mummy the Husserlian: "Mummy! When I am not here, the trees will still be here!"

Why 5-year-olds don't name their siblings.

Miriam: "This baby has a white onesie, so we will call her White Baby!"

Bella: "Dat Baby Doll!"

Miriam: "Yes, and we call you Belly, because you are so fat!"

Bella: "Yesh, I Yam!"

Miriam: "And, Ana, we call you Squishy, because you squish everything."

Ana: "Ng, Gah!"

Miriam: "But really we call you Sucky, because you suck all the time."

Things That Happen...

... when Daddy is a neuroscientist.

Monday: Daddy brings home a rubber toy brain for the baby to play with.

Tuesday: Bella cries, "Mommy! Where's my BWAIN!?!?!?"

Wednesday: Miriam comments, "My goodness, Ana, what a squishy brain you have!"

Thursday: Bella cries, "Mommy! My BWAIN rolled AWOUND!"

Friday: Miriam says, "The brain is missing! Bella took my BRAIN!"

Saturday: Ana chews on her brain for a good half hour. Miriam says, "Mommy! Ana is sucking her brain!"

Miriam, the Gender Specialist.

We were sitting in the warm sun, after a morning of flu...

Mom: "You have a beautiful heart, Miriam."

Miriam: "Thanks, mom."

thoughtful pause

Miriam: "Girls' hearts have roses in them."

Mom: to self "Oh, gag me!"

another long pause

Miriam: "And boys' hearts are full of thorns."

Mom: wonders to self "Huh. A Sacred Heart reference?"

Miriam, the Biologist.

Miriam and I watched a rather filthy, but adorable, raccoon last week as he rummaged through our compost pile. She wanted to know all about the little creatures and was especially intrigued by the fact that they are nocturnal (fortunately, she herself is not).

So, this morning when she overheard me complaining (er, remarking) to the Scientist Dad that the in utero Ahern had been kicking me all night, she fell to ponderations.

"Mummy! A baby is like a raccoon! She sleeps all day and stays up at night when she can see!"

She'll do just fine on the SAT analogies section.

Jon Stewart on Acorn.

Here's more brain-candy. But, man, it's funny candy. Thanks to Peace! Be Still.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
The Audacity of Hos
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Healthcare Protests

Just for fun.

This is about what my brain is capable of right now. It reminds me of how awesome my husband has been. Not only has he NOT said any of the below-mentioned phrases, but he has also spent all night awake in a hospital triage room, cleaned up various vomit, forced me to keep sipping, and somehow kept the children alive, too. This one's for you, sweets.

Miriam's Credo.

With the general craziness surrounding a Big Trip for the Scientist Dad, getting ready for school to begin, and finding all Miriam's kindergarten (wow.) supplies, philosophy has been left in a dusty little corner in my brain.

Fortunately, Miriam has not allowed her little metaphysical inclination to rest. She has been busy concocting a brand new heresy, which she will combat when she becomes a Dominican (they've been bored ever since the Albigensians disappeared).

I took the time on our morning walk to listen carefully to her formulation of the new Creed.

"Believe!
in God the Father Almighty
the Baker of heaven and earth,
and in Jesus Christ,
his one, our Lord,
who was received by the Holy Spirit
bored of the Virgin Mary,
and died.
He ascended into hell. (I think we missed something important here.)
He will come again... (distracted by pink flower)
I believe in the Holy Spirit
the Holy Catholic Church
the communion of saints
the give-ness of sins (is that givenness?)
the resurrection of buddy

and life again, Amen."

I asked her to start the decade, and she complied:

"Our Father, who art in heaven, yellow be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven..."

Other than the obvious implication that God is material (yellow?), she got that one right. It's funny to me that she will probably have to re-learn many prayers as she gets older.

Because I didn't become Catholic until my teens, I never had the difficulty of learning my child's version of a prayer only to discover that's not what the prayer really says after all. Many cradle Catholics I know still sometimes exclaim, "I never knew the Church said that!" Really, though, I think they must have been told or at least heard it a million times.

We must have the humility to recognize that we may not have picked up everything there is to know along the way. Human learning is cyclical, as Laura Berquist says: We must constantly re-learn and re-examine the same thing. Or we will never know it. Like Miriam's Credo.

Which Father of the Church am I?

You’re St. Melito of Sardis! You have a great love of history and liturgy. You’re attached to the traditions of the ancients, yet you recognize that the old world — great as it was — is passing away. You are loyal to the customs of your family, though you do not hesitate to call family members to account for their sins. Find out which Church Father you are at The Way of the Fathers!

Hooray! Wait... who? (Not that a philosopher should ever admit to ignorance of a Great Thinker. What I ought to have said was, "Oh, yes, St. Mileto. His thought reminds me of St. Augustine's thought, which clearly... Hang on a sec, the baby's crying.")

Miriam the spiritual director. Part III

Miriam: "Let us meditate upon the third astonished mystery: The Coming of the Pope! And the fruit of this mystery is liberty. Amen."

Maybe John Paul II should have consulted a three-year-old for yet another set of mysteries? I love the "astonished" adjective. But "liberty"? A little American for the universal Church, perhaps.

Abandon opinion, all ye...

I was browsing my beloved Elements of Style, by William Strunk, Jr. (see photo--what a prim little fellow!), and happened upon this piece of advice. Considering my blog activity, I found it most amusing:

"Do not inject opinion. Unless there is a good reason for its being there, do not inject an opinion into a piece of writing. We all have opinions about almost everything, and the temptation to toss them in is great. To air one's views gratuitously, however, is to imply that the demand for them is brisk, which may not be the case, and which, in any event, may not be relevant to the discussion. Opinions scattered indiscriminately about leave the mark of egotism on a work. Similarly, to air one's views at an improper time may be in bad taste. If you have received a letter inviting you to speak at the dedication of a new cat hospital, and you hate cats, your reply, declining the invitation, does not necessarily have to cover the full range of your emotions ... [Bear] in mind that your opinion of cats was not sought, only your services as a public speaker. Try to keep things straight."

I will try, dear Strunk, I will try.

Colbert, Glendon, and Kmeic

Well, you either laugh or you cry. I think it's time to laugh. Here is Colbert most wonderful interview with the increasingly limp Douglas Kmiec, who infamously made the case that now-President Obama was the most pro-life candidate available to Catholics last year. As mentioned once or twice on this blog, Kmiec's arguments on that score resemble a rather wistful Swiss Cheese. Colbert pokes a few more holes in him.

While Kmiec's theological and pastoral contortions may provoke pity, Mary Ann Glendon's decision to turn down Notre Dame's Laetare Medal at this year's commencement inspires hope. Her letter to Fr. Jenkins, the university's president, is articulate, gentle, and yet unambiguous. The NC Register has great commentary from Fr. Raymond de Souza. May her tribe increase.

(American Papist has a list of bishops--with links to their statements--who have responded to Notre Dame in kind.)

And now, enjoy the show:

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
Douglas Kmiec
colbertnation.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor Gay Marriage Commercial

Hans Interrupted.

Due to, among other things, a stomach flu, philosophical inquiry is at a minimum today. Miriam had a bright alternative.

Miriam: "Mummy, let's prway the Rosarwy."

Me: (rolling over on couch, trying not to be sick) "Ok."

Miriam: "The firwst Sorrwowful Mysterwy: The hitting with the thorns. The fruit of this mystery is liberty."

Interesting take on that one... But it sure cured the nausea for a moment.

What I was thinking...

... after the Oath of Office:

"The unconscious democracy of America is a very fine thing. It is a true and deep and instinctive assumption of the equality of citizens, which even voting and elections have not destroyed."

~GK Chesterton

What I always wanted to say.

I had no idea this man existed until ten minutes ago, but ... Exactly. This is perspective.

GK Chesterton on the pessimists

Here is GK Chesterton's little poem to pessimists... Introduced in his own words.

"Forgive me if I say, in my old-world fashion, that I'm damned if I ever feel like [the Hollow Men] ... I knew that the world was perishable and would end, but I did not think it would end in a whimper, but, if anything, with a trump of doom ... I will even be so indecently frivolous as to burst into song, and say to the young pessimists:

Some sneer, some snigger, some simper;
in the youth where we laughed, and sang.
And they may end with a whimper
But we will end with a bang."