Tough Job

Being a parent is tough.

 

And it is full of tough jobs. 

 

Things like picking preschools and extra curricular activities that will help shape their lives and future cannot be taken lightly.

 

Other things like clothing, teaching self respect, letting them make their own choices all the while praying that they will remember the lessons you have taught them that bring on the gray hairs prematurely. 

 

And then there are the tough jobs like sorting through the candy stash before Halloween to decide what can be kept, what gets thrown away, what gets donated to Operation Christmas Child, and what ends up in Momma's stash that tests our willpower to not snag all the good stuff because children don't appreciate it need it anyways. 

 

 

 

Its a tough job but someone has to do it.

What I'm reading this week

 

Its undeniable.  I've become my father. 

 

I am a non-fiction reader. 

 

I yearn to know more, to understand the 'Why?' and the 'How come?' and to figure out how we got where we are today.  Not to mention - old school medicine theories are hilarious!

 

Let me explain that last one.  What I'm reading this week:

 

(Yep, that's Jake in the background "working" on his bike.")

 

Terrible Typhoid Mary:

A true story of the deadliest cook in America

 

Why, you may ask, are you reading this?

 

Well, that goes back to my dad as well.  Anytime any of us kids would become ill, he'd call us Typhoid Mary and steer clear of us as much as possible.  So when I ran across this book in doing research for a new Tween section in my department, I just had to read it and discover just who Typhoid Mary was.  

 

Dust jacket reads:

 

This is the story of a cook - a quiet, diligent cook who kept to herself.  Her specialty was homemade ice cream topped with fresh peaches, which she served on hot summer days.  She worked for some of the wealthiest families in New York, who spoke highly of her skills.

 

But when six members of one household nearly died, the cook mysteriously disappeared - and the hunt for Typhoid Mary began.

 

In this captivating biography, Susan Campbell Bartoletti looks beyond the tabloid scandal of Mary's controversial life.  She reveals a lesser-known story of human and civil rights violations, entangled with the science of pathology and enduring questions about who Mary Mallon really was.  How did this private cook become one of the most notorious and misunderstood women in American history?  What happens to a person whose name and reputation are forever damaged?  And who is really responsible for the lasting legacy of Typhoid Mary? 

 

 

Interesting points in the book:

 

* The first woman doctor, Elizabeth Blackwell, did not believe in the germ theory (that you become sick by coming in contact with germs and bacteria).  She believed that disease was caused by immoral behavior.  Great doctor! 

 

* Households that Typhoid broke out in sometimes would be burned to the ground to stop the disease from spreading! 

 

* Typhoid Mary was a 'heathly carrier' of the disease - meaning that her body had a natural defense to typhoid but still carried the germs in her gall bladder.  She inadvertently spread the disease by not washing her hands properly after going to the bathroom!!

 

I will admit that this book did not help germaphobic fears.  At all.

Applesauce Days

Fall equals comfort food.

 

Comfort food equals pasta.

 

Pasta (with children around) equals mac and cheese.

 

And as everyone knows - or maybe just in the Dominique lineage - you cannot have macaroni and cheese without applesauce.

 

 

 

 

Happy Fall!

What I'm reading this week

Just because I am a librarian, does not mean I have the time to read.  At this phase of my life, things like work, house, yard, laundry, never ending cleaning, volunteering and, well, kids take up much of my time - leaving my brain with no desire to do anything more than it has to.  But sometimes, as books should, I get so inspired by the dust jacket alone that everything else takes a back seat while this momma dives right in.  What I'm reading this week:  

Dust Jacket reads:   

You count a pregnancy by weeks and Kayla Aimee had only ticked off 24 of the 40 when she unexpectedly went into labor. She thought her church upbringing had prepared her for every circumstance but when tragedy struck and threatened to take the life of her newborn daughter, it felt as though once solid ground had turned to glass beneath her feet, destined to shatter everything she held sacred.

When swept into a story of suffering, we all find ourselves vulnerable, questioning everything we thought we knew as we wonder, “Where is God in this?” With everything feeling as fragile as her one and a half pound daughter, Kayla finds herself asking that same question as she faces  her greatest fear: that she may have finally become a mother just to lose her only child.

For anyone who has felt their faith in God falter, Anchored extends a gentle invitation to join her as she uncovers a hope that holds.

Although I (thankfully) cannot relate with her story of a micropreemie, her struggle of finding God in the darkness is very real for so many, myself included.  Kayla openly writes "I could fake praise, after all I knew the verses."  Ouch.  Wow.  It made me think and open my eyes to my own faith, trust, and relationship with God.  When we are at our lowest, do we get through it honestly, arms open wide, falling head first into our Faith, trusting in Him?  Or do we fake our way through the situation, knowing in our hearts to rely on God, but unable to get our worldly head to do so?  Ironically, today as I am carefully choosing how to express myself on this subject, a friend posts this on Facebook:

 

 

 

  Those dark times in our life, when we see no light at the end of the tunnel, the times when we need to rely on our faith, are challenging.  We question, although not directly specifically to Him, why do these bad things happen to me? 

Kayla Aimee sums it up pretty well here:

"So I tell this story.  And even though they get the abbreviated version, the one punctuated with numbers that fit in the time and space allotted, I cannot compress the largeness of it.  I tell it because it is meant for more than just us; it is a resting place for anyone who is wondering where God is in their hurt.  Because when we are asking that question is when we have the greatest opportunity to find Him.  It doesn't feel like that in the middle of the story, not when you are living right in the middle of the open book.  It does not feel like that when everything burns down to ashes, when the fractured dreams are still smoldering and it seems impossible to redeem the rubble, let alone create something beautiful from it.  But the nature of God is to bring beauty from ashes, and here I am in the middle of a library in a small, suburban town in a northern corner of Georgia watching my once lame daughter walk and telling again of how mourning was turned to joy.

I did not want this story.  I wanted a fairy tale, with a Once Upon a Time and They All Lived Happily Ever After.  That is all we ever want, a happy ending.  This is where my belief system had failed me, in subtly suggesting the pursuit of prayer as a means to achieving a happy ending, skipping over the shadows.  But even the fairy tales would not exist without the dark places.  Beauty without the Beast is just another pretty face.  Sleeping Beauty without the spindle is just a story about a girl who takes a ridiculously long nap.

It is the story that we allow a Creator to write in our suffering that gives us the greatest opportunity to know the depths of His love, and in this way share that love with other.  This is our privilege.  This is our benediction."

To read more about author Kayla Aimee, visit her website

www.kaylaimee.com