Sugar and Spice

  This blog, much like the last, should come with the late-term pregnancy caveat that it might be either incredibly emotional or extremely disjointed, or some combination of the two.   Oh, and it might sound a little like I’m standing in a pulpit.   Consider yourself warned. Yesterday in church we celebrated Morning Prayer in place of Eucharist because mom was in Lafayette meeting the folks at our sister congregation St. Barnabas.   Once the children returned to “Big Church” Pumpkin started telling me she wanted “Jesus” (i.e., communion).   I quietly explained that we weren’t going to have communion because Nona was in Lafayette.   Pumpkin looked at me quizzically and asked, “Nona took Jesus to Lafayette?”   At that point, all I could do was chuckle and say yes.   Any other answer would have resulted in continued demands for Jesus, which I could not provide but at the same time could not deny. Not ironically the Gospel reading yesterday was about the little child being the g

If you’re feeling anything like me today, be careful where you are when you choose to read the following blog article, as it may cause uncontrollable crying, feelings of melancholy, and inability to perform the essential functions of your job for a few moments.   Consider yourself warned.   By feeling “like me,” I guess I mean a combination of hugely pregnant with a fully engaged fetus causing frequent though mild Braxton Hicks contractions, a raging sore throat and sinus headache that is causing my whole body to tingle, a bit of anxiety about mothering the second child and a big dose of overwhelming nostalgia as I “nest” my way through all of Pumpkin’s tiny little baby clothes that I hardly remember her wearing.   Add to all of that dismay about the political atmosphere we’re living in and a touch of fearful remembrance of 11 years ago tomorrow and you’ve got an emotional wreck.   I’m sure none of you are feeling anything quite like that, but consider yourself warned anyway.