Some folks have asked if there is an email list they can get on to receive an update when I’m back to regular blogging, which is a polite way of saying “It’s really not worth the mental energy it would take to keep up with the intricacies of your writing schedule.” The answer is yes! Sort of! You can sign up to receive my blog’s content by email whenever I write a new post. It’s free, there’s no spam, and you can promptly unsubscribe in disgust if I ever turn this into a Justin Bieber fan blog:

Meanwhile, I have realized that the possibility of hitting this deadline is only barely within the realm of what is humanly possible. So if you want to know what the next three weeks will be like for me, just imagine the training montage from Rocky. It is going to be EXACTLY like that, only without physical activity, interacting with other people, or leaving the house. (Although I may punch some slabs of meat at some point.)

I feel weird asking for prayers, as if no one has anything better to pray for than my word count goals. But if you find yourself scraping the bottom of the barrel of your prayer intentions, getting to the point that you’re requesting God’s intervention with Facebook load times and the plot of Downton Abbey, it would be great if you could throw in a good word for my little project.

I’ll be back on February 21. See you then!

— 1 —

For the #1 spot in each week’s Quick Takes, I usually think back and pick out an interesting / funny / bizarre story that occurred within the past seven days. As I sit down to review this particular week, I realize just how nonexistent my life has been. One hundred percent of my energy has been divided between the following three things:

• Feverishly working on the book.
• Thinking about how infuriated I am going to be if I don’t hit this deadline and thus have to wait eight months until my schedule clears up so I can get back to it. (Notice I am beyond the point of even pretending that I might be able to prayerfully turn the timeline over to God. My “patiently accepting endless delays” capabilities ran out sometime between the second time I scrapped a completed draft and the 12 months I had to wait to work on it again.)
• Hanging out with the kids, unsuccessfully pitching a new pretend game called Tortured Artist, where one of us (mommy) sits and types furiously while everyone else stands around and makes comments like “That’s genius!” and “What a brilliant paragraph.”

— 2 —

Have I mentioned that I’m speaking at the Living the Faith conference in Denver? I can’t wait. You can read Julie Filby’s article about it here. I see that Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia will be giving one of the keynotes. I guess that means that, since I am also a speaker, we’ll pretty much be hanging out the whole time. Justice Scalia (who will probably insist that I call him “Tony”) might have some questions about my blog, and will want to get my take on some of the cases he’s hearing right now. Another keynote speaker, Vatican astronomer Brother Guy Consolmagno, will be excited to hear that my husband is coming. My husband established himself as a luminary in the worlds of both philosophy and astronomy after calling out every celestial body in the cosmos and issuing a standing challenge for any of them to go up against him on Jeopardy (as of yet unanswered, I note), so I’m sure that Brother Consolmagno will be anxious to meet him.

— 3 —

As I flail around with my own book project, the good news is that there are other bloggers out who have fancy things like completed books, and I can live vicariously through them. Steady Mom has a new eBook out that promises to be great, and The Bloggess’ first memoir is coming out in April. Prediction: The Bloggess’ book will be in the top 10 of the New York Times nonfiction bestseller list within one week of its release. She has what publishers refer to as a “FREAKING HUGE PLATFORM,” meaning that she has tens of thousands of loyal readers who lie awake at night waiting to buy her book, so it’ll be very interesting to see how it does. (As a writing nerd who is also a web stats nerd who used to work in marketing, these sorts of things are fascinating to me.)

— 4 —

You may notice that I didn’t link to The Bloggess’ blog in that last take. I know. Bad etiquette. But I simply don’t have the vocabulary to craft a content warning that would be strong enough to give readers unfamiliar with her writing a proper idea of what they might find there. Ten f-bombs, to be sure. But also discussion of insane taxidermy experiments. Pictures of insane taxidermy experiments. Sexual references that would make Hugh Hefner blush. And that’s just in the first paragraph.

I was going to go ahead and link to it with an all caps warning that clicking through will fling you far, far outside of the Inspirational Christian Mommy blog world, but then I had the realization (that chills me every time I think about it) that some of my dear friends who are Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist occasionally check in on my blog. I had this vision of Sister Elizabeth Ann accidentally clicking on the link, unsure what just happened, and at that moment some of her sisters walk in behind her. Sister Maria Rosario faints, Sister Thomas Aquinas is crossing herself and saying Hail Mary’s. Someone is on the phone to Mother Assumpta. And Sister Elizabeth Ann is frantically closing browsers, crying, “JENNIFER FULWILER MADE ME DO IT!”

— 5 —

Now I feel the need to post something worthy of having deeply devout people read this blog. I have the perfect thing! Check out this super cute four-minute talk by Kimberly Hahn. It’s a really unique presentation that has stuck with me ever since I watched it.

— 6 —

Tucker Max announced that he’s retiring from his hard-partying ways last week (some profanity at that link). I was quite touched by what he had to say about it:

The turning point came when one day I realized, I was a number-one bestselling author, I was rich and famous and I’d done all these things in my writing career that I couldn’t even dream of accomplishing when I’d started. All the things I thought I needed to do to make myself happy, I had done…I thought that would be more than enough to make me happy, and it wasn’t.

Want to hear something eerie? When I found this article I had just finished mentioning him in my memoir, which explores those exact themes. My husband and I used to get together with some friends occasionally to go bar hopping in a yellow school bus while dressed as clowns, and I talked about it because something significant to the main plot happened on one of those nights. Tucker happened to be with us, so I mentioned it. Anyway, it was odd to hear someone who was there that night publicly express the same opinion. I was like, What?? Clown Night didn’t bring you deep inner peace either?! So weird!

Tucker Max (holding up the megaphone) at Clown Night, 2003

Good for you, Tucker, for searching for something more. I pray that your journey may also take you from the clown bus to God.

— 7 —

As I wrap up this edition of Quick Takes to get back to work on the book, I leave you with this fabulous quote that nancyo recently left in a comment:

“A writer is somebody for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”
- Thomas Mann

This makes me think I might be a real Writer after all.

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— 1 —

Yesterday afternoon, I thought I had found a one-two punch of improving our neighbors’ impressions of The Homeschoolers and getting some socialization for the kids. (Disclaimer: Socialization is not a problem for everyone who educates at home. Many such families have no problem whatsoever exposing their children to the company of other human beings. The stereotype comes from people like me, who were weird to begin with.) Anyway, yesterday I whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies and set them on a stand in our front yard as a lure for the kids who were playing outside after school.

It worked! The warm cookies were like a kid magnet, and within minutes a half dozen children were hanging around our front yard. I pretended to be very busy rearranging the two chairs on the front porch while I kept an eye on the interactions. Just when the older kids got past some awkward hellos and began to chat with potential new friends, my sugar-crazed toddler grabbed two cookies and stuffed them into her mouth with both hands, grunting and smearing chocolate all over her face, arms, and neck. I chirped a polite reminder for her not to eat all the cookies, hoping my calm and classy tone would balance out her behavior, and leave people with the overall impression that we were probably not mountain people who had come in from the hills to take up residence in this neighborhood. Upon hearing my admonishment, she opened her mouth, and let a chewed blob of cookies fall from her mouth and splat onto the middle of the plate. The kids scattered like cockroaches.

Maybe we’ll try again tomorrow.

— 2 —

This is kind of an odd juxtaposition, but here it goes anyway: I’ve been using the book Mornings With Fulton Sheen as meditation starters for my morning prayer time. It’s great stuff. Each page has a reflection from something the late Archbishop wrote, along with a corresponding Bible verse. An example from page 51:

“Man becomes like that which he loves. If he loves gold, he becomes like it — cold, hard and yellow. The more he acquires, the more he suffers at surrendering even the least of it, just as it hurts to have a single hair pulled out even thought your head is full of them.”

Wisdom is worth much more than gold, and understanding should be chosen over silver. (Proverbs 16:16)

There are a bunch of daily meditation books like this (Karen Edmisten’s Through the Year With Mary and Bert Ghezzi’s Breakfast with Benedict are also great). I always find them to be good ways to kickstart my prayer time, especially if I’ve been going through a spiritual dry spell.

— 3 —

I’ve continued my commitment to get up at 6:00 AM (by “continued” I mean “I sometimes get up when the first number on the clock still says 6“) and one of the most exciting parts of each morning is when I put on my slippers. I know what you’re thinking: Wow, that sounds thrilling. Putting on slippers? Tell me more. Can I also get a detailed list of what you eat for breakfast? But wait. This is actually a tension-filled moment of death-defying anticipation in this house, and here’s why:

It occurred to me the other day that these shoes, which are tall and poofy slipper-boots, are a perfect scorpion habitat. I mean, so perfect that the marketing department should throw out all this foot warming mumbo jumbo and just market them as arachnid condos. So when we combine the facts that scorpions like small, warm spaces and are also nocturnal, we see that it is a matter of when, not if, I will encounter one in my slipper-boots at 6 AM. I’ve been shaking the slippers out every morning, but there’s always a chance that one of the scorpion’s claws could get stuck in the furry fabric, in which case the result of my shaking would only be that I now have an extremely angry and alert scorpion waiting for me in my shoes.

— 4 —

I wouldn’t wear those slippers, someone just thought after reading my last take. Believe me, I am sympathetic to this line of thinking. But around here we have scorpions in our beds, our towels, our kitchens, our toy piles, our living rooms. Alas, even our toilets are not outside of the universe of possibilities of where one might encounter a scorpion. If I were to optimize my life on not being stung, I would stand on a stool in my living room and scream in despair all day (though not too close to the air vent, since scorpions fall out of there sometimes). As it is, even my most mundane tasks are packed with the tension of WILL I OR WILL I NOT BE STUNG BY A POISONOUS ARACHNID WHEN I DO THIS? Let it never be said that I don’t have an exciting life.

— 5 —

If you have young children, I think you need one of these. I got it for my two-year-old for Christmas after seeing the reviews on Amazon, which led me to beleive that it is specifically mentioned in Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. It’s a glow bug thing that shoots lights from its shell. And it has buttons that change the colors. Okay. Obviously I am up too late to describe this very well, so let me put it this way: It does cool stuff that will get your children to beg you to turn out the lights at night.

— 6 —

I’m speaking at the Diocese of Venice Apologetics Conference on February 7, so if you’re in the area come on by! (That’s Venice, Florida, by the way. Though I am certainly open to the possibility should anyone want me to speak in Venice, Italy. I don’t know Italian, but I do offer a pantomimed version of my talks.)

In what should be a humbling turn of events, the weekend before I’ll be seeing Matthew Kelly speak at our parish. He’s arguably one of the best speakers in the world, and talks like this are why:

— 7 —

Book progress: I have about 48,000 words down. According to my writing schedule, I’m supposed to have about 57,000 by this point. I’m not too worried — if I keep focused and stay off of Twitter, I think I can make it up over the next few weeks.

Writing tip: I’ve tried everything under the sun to keep myself motivated to write, and nothing has worked as well as simple word count deadlines. When I’ve based my schedule on what topics I was going to cover when, I could come up with all sorts of elaborate rationalizations that made it seem like I was doing something, when really I was doing nothing (“I didn’t cover top X per se, but I did research topic Y, which is related…”). Word count deadlines keep you typing.

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— 1 —

Yesterday I turned 35. To celebrate, let’s get all reflective!

• If you are older than 35, tell me about what you were doing at this age. How do you feel about that time of your life? Anything you’d do differently?
• If you are younger than 35, tell me about what you want your life to be like when you’re my age.

— 2 —

My husband and I ended up in a long conversation about ventriloquists the other day (still not sure how that happened). Anyway, the upshot of it was that we ended up rediscovering Señor Wences. I hadn’t seen this clip of him on The Muppet Show since I was a kid, and I was delighted to find that he is every bit as charming and talented as I remembered him being:

— 3 —

After all the drama, the proclamations, the descriptions of not wanting to eat or sleep, the excessive use of caps lock, I didn’t end up watching Downton Abbey this weekend. I was behind on my writing schedule, so I used the time I had carefully blocked out for throwing myself all over the television to write instead. THAT is how seriously I am about this February deadline. (Fellow Downton Abbey fans just gasped and started fanning themselves.)

As I’ve mentioned before, my agent doesn’t want to talk to publishers until we have an A+ draft, so I am not under contractual obligation to have it done by that date. However, I think I’m actually more dedicated to the deadline than I would be if my main pressure were a contract with a publisher. Since our family has made sacrifices for me to get the extra time I need to get this done, I want to make sure I don’t drag this out any longer than necessary. I hate the idea of having to go to my husband and mom and mother-in-law on February 21 and say, “Hey, you know how I made that big pitch about how I could use some extra help for a few weeks? And how any sacrifices would be worth it because it would allow me to wrap up this project by today? I have some bad news about that…” I feel like one way I can show my appreciation for their efforts is to take the deadline I promised them very seriously. And in this house, it does not get much more serious than skipping the first episode of Season 2 of Downton Abbey.

— 4 —

I recently stumbled across a heated discussion where people were asked to state their annual income and then say how rich or poor they felt. (The link is here, but there’s some strong language. To give you an idea: Some people wrote in and complained that they felt very poor despite making high-six-figure incomes. Others were allowed to respond anonymously, with no censoring. You can imagine what kind of commentary that elicited.) So anyway, I was surprised to hear people talking about making $350,000 a year and feeling “so, so, so poor”…but then I wondered if I’d really be as content as I think I would be at that income.

I once read that your desires adjust to your income level, and that “at all levels of income, the typical response is that one needs 20% more to be happy.” I’ve thought for a long time that I wouldn’t need any more income if we just had X amount…and I laughed when I did the math and realized it was 20% more. It made me realize that as long as I’m in the mode of “Coveting Things You Want that You Can’t Afford,” I’ll never feel like I have enough. If we did get more money, I would just buy those things I’d been pining over (larger house, newer car, etc.), and then our budget would be maxed out again and I’d come up with new things that I want but can’t afford.

I know, I know, this is an incredibly obvious concept. I think what shocked me was when I saw that I’m really not all that different than a millionaire who feels poor. I thought of myself as being in a totally different situation than someone who makes a zillion dollars and still wishes she had more…but really, we’re both people who can’t seem to get it through our heads that we have more than enough.

— 5 —

Election season is in full swing! And that’s the last you’ll hear about it from me. I remember back in the Fall of 2008, I would occasionally get comments like, “Umm, you do know that there’s a hotly contested presidential election going on, right? Just wondering since you haven’t mentioned it once.”

I’m naturally apolitical, and I don’t think that it’s within the scope of this blog to talk about politics anyway. So if you’ve been looking around for a blog that can enlighten you with nuanced analysis of the upcoming primary season and its implications for the November ballots, you will find this site to be deeply disappointing. But if you were just sitting there wondering, “What blog could I read in 2012 that will avoid the topic of the election entirely and focus on God and poop fates and scorpions instead?”, drop everything, subscribe to my RSS feed, and prepare yourself to be blessed.

— 6 —

My current read is The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot. It had been on my wish list for a while, but I finally bought it after coming across this fascinating interview about Skloot’s process for writing the book. As a writing nerd, I was dying to see her finished product after reading all the details of how she weaved the different narrative threads together.

The book is wonderful. Very well done. It reminds me of Born to Run, which is also excellent and very similar in structure. It’s made me realize that I adore that particular genre, which I think of as “nonfiction that educates you about an interesting concept while weaving in colorful personal vignettes about the people involved, including the author’s own story of researching the book.” Is there a more concise term for that? It’s a combination of textbook-style info and memoir. Maybe “infoir”? “Memfo”? (Clearly I am up too late.) Anyway, if you come across any other books in that genre, let me know!

— 7 —

I leave you with this: an image of what happens when you’re the fifth baby, and three of your older siblings are little girls:

Have a great weekend!

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— 1 —

You don’t even know the writer angst I spare you. I could have an entire blog where I wrote three posts per day transcribing the mercurial inner dialogue that runs through my head whenever I sit down to work on this book project.

I’ve been pondering the age-old question of why even the most basic creative pursuits tend to make people crazy. As Steve Pressfield would say, part of it is undoubtedly spiritual attack. But I think there’s also a natural frustration that comes with not being able to control your way into success. For example, if you have a vision of building a simple bridge across a small river, you can get it done. As long as you’re willing to learn and work hard, you’ll achieve your goal of having a way to get from one side of the river to another. But with anything involving the arts, it’s a different story. If a musician has a vision of creating a beautiful song, he may or may not be able to do it. Hard work and learning can certainly help, but they’re no guarantee that he’ll reach his goal of making something beautiful. I think it’s the unpredictable nature of alchemy behind creating decent art that makes it so maddening sometimes.

— 2 —

My toddler made me this sweet gift at our parish preschool. It’s one of those keepsake sheets where the teachers ask the kids about their parents and then record the funny answers. Her sister did one of these last year, and I noticed that there was something different about this one:

On the old form, there were questions about what Mommy likes to eat and drink. When I saw the line “My mommy likes to drink ______”, I was relieved to see the delightfully unremarkable beverage milk written down…but I kind of wondered how many tries it took to get that answer. The question is now off the sheet entirely, and I have this vision that it started with a staff meeting after the last time they did this project, the teachers complaining that the kids kept coming back with stuff like “scotch on the wocks.”

— 3 —

I met a new neighbor recently, and when I told her where we lived, she exclaimed, “Oh, you’re the homeschoolers!” It chills me to consider that we are the very embodiment of what it means to homeschool to the good people of our block. I tried to explain that there are all different types of homeschoolers, that we were already weird even before we took our kids out of elementary school, etc., but it had no effect. Subsequent comments have indicated that we are firmly entrenched in our neighbors’ minds as The Homeschoolers.

Yesterday I was sweeping ashes off the driveway from our testing different ways to start fires, Christmas lights still blinking behind me, a week after all the other houses have taken theirs down, when one of the neighbors asked if my son wanted to come out and play. I looked at the throng of children frolicking joyfully through the streets, then motioned toward my darkened house and said, “He might want to in a while, but I think he wants to finish something on Tux Paint first.” As I was explaining that Tux Paint is a free drawing game that comes with the Linux operating system, it occurred to me that we now looked not only like shut-ins, but nerd shut-ins who aren’t even cool enough to waste the afternoon on an Xbox or a Wii. I apologize to homeschoolers everywhere for perpetuating stereotypes.

— 4 —

DOWNTON ABBEY IS BACK!!!!!! The first episode of Season 2 airs Sunday, January 8, and you don’t even have to have cable to watch it! I don’t know what it is with me and this show, but it captivated me the way nothing on TV ever has before. I’m normally too distracted by writing projects to make much time for television or movies; even when my husband and I do put on a movie, I often end up going through email or organizing my Evernote files while it plays. But after I watched the first episode of the first season of Downton, I was ready to give up writing, eating, sleeping, bathing, and pretty much everything else until I finished it. The day I watched the last episode, I shuffled around the house in a daze, trying to wrap my mind around the awesomeness that I had just beheld, while simultaneously trying to figure out what to do with my life now that I’d watched the entire season.

I knew that I might have a slightly unhealthy relationship to the show by my reaction to this lukewarm review of Season 2 in the Huffington Post. Normally I am all about speaking respectfully and using my real identity when I comment on other people’s blogs, but this time I found myself overwhelmed with the urge to troll the post with anonymous comments from StopHatin saying stuff like “WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!?!? SHUT UP THAT SHOW IS AWESOME WHY CAN’T YOU JUST CHILL OUT AND APPRECIATE IT?!?!?!”…even though I have not actually seen Season 2 yet. Anyway, if anyone needs me on Sunday night at 8:00, you’ll find me drooling on myself in front of my television.

— 5 —

You guys have the best gift suggestions. When I asked what I should get for my cousin the hiphop DJ in Brooklyn, Melanie came up with the great idea of one of these bowls made out of a vintage record:

And Anna Mitchell from the SonRise Morning Show suggested one of these funky prints inspired by the New York subway system:
My cousin was thrilled with both of them.

— 6 —

It’s interesting how natural it has become for me to do my planning around the liturgical year. For example, when I was trying to decide on an exact deadline for the book, my first thought was that it’d be ideal to have it finished by Mardi Gras, so that I could be more relaxed during Lent. Knowing that the last couple of weeks of getting it together will be a high-stress time, I’ve been very motivated by the goal of making the most of Lent as a time to unwind and refocus. When we’ve been putting dinners and get-togethers on the calender with family and friends, it’s now second nature to think, “I’ll have to look up a good vegetarian recipe since that’s on a Friday in Lent,” or “We’ll have to do something special since that’ll be on a Sunday during the Easter season.” I love how living by the Church calendar keeps me moving in unison with the Body of Christ, and puts elements of the life of Christ at the forefront of my mind, even when I’m doing something as mundane as planning a lunch.

— 7 —

Book lovers, I have a little New Year’s present for you: Over at the Register, I asked 19 bloggers to give me their top book recommendation for 2012. The result was a fantastic list (and don’t miss the comments!)

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— 1 —

Don’t forget the Saint’s Name Generator if you want a saint chosen at random to be your patron for the new year! Leave a comment and let me know who was picked for you. (Note that you have to click twice to get the name — I’ll fix it to make it one click as soon as I have time.) Last year my saint was St. Francis de Sales, and he’s been a great source of inspiration for me in 2011. Also, check out the comments to this post for neat stories about the significance of some of the saint’s names folks drew.

— 2 —

For 2012, my patron is St. Ferdinand III of Castile. He’s the patron of large families, poor people, and prisoners. So, umm, I’m kind of wondering what, exactly, God has in store for us this year — especially since my husband drew St. Justin Martyr.

— 3 —

My husband got me a Kindle for Christmas. “I guess I might use it for the occasional fiction book,” I thought. “But I’ll never do regular reading on an electronic device.” To put it bluntly: I COULD NOT HAVE BEEN MORE WRONG. This thing has become like an appendage of my body. It’s my favorite gadget I’ve ever owned. Here’s what’s great about it:

• You can create highlights and make notes — and they’re available online. First of all, I was delighted to discover that you can highlight sections and make notes with e-readers. Then, when I logged into my Kindle account on Amazon and saw all my highlights and notes right there, I almost passed out from the awesomeness. (It has been pointed out to me that you can only do this with books you buy through the Kindle store. Which is definitely a downside. But whatever! Because then there’s this:)
• It lies flat. The other day the baby was unusually fussy and insisted on being held all day, and in the moments when she’d finally doze off I was able to get a lot of reading done. I had to use both hands for the ninja techniques required to keep her happy, and so it would have been hard to hold a paper book open. Being able to just glance down at my Kindle, then press a button to turn the page, made hands-free reading a breeze.
• It doesn’t require a monthly data plan. I was under the mistaken impression that you had to buy a monthly data plan in order to download books on e-readers. I was delighted to find that I can use my Kindle on my home wireless network to get my purchases.
• The screen is like reading on paper. I’m amazed at how similar the look of the screen is to a regular book: It doesn’t glow, it’s not glossy, and it’s easier to read the more light you shine on it.

I will still buy some books in paper form, but count me in as e-reading’s newest convert.

— 4 —

So now you’re convinced. You’re sitting in front of your computer saying, “Jen, you’re right. I thought my life was complete, but now I see that it is a mere shell of an existence compared to what it could be if I owned an e-reader. I am going to purchase a Kindle as soon as I finish reading your astoundingly insightful Quick Takes. However, I am going to go all out and get a Kindle Fire!” No. Do not do this. Go with the low-end version. Here’s why:

One of the reasons I thought I wasn’t an e-reader kind of gal is because my mom has an iPad, and I could never get into reading books on it when I’d borrow it. First of all, I don’t like reading a lot of text on glowing screens. Second, there were too many distractions: I’d sit down with the intention of getting into Scott Hahn’s latest title, but would somehow end up in a heated debate about nuts in desserts on Twitter. It was just too tempting to do something interactive like surf the web or check my email and social media accounts. What’s wonderful about the basic-model Kindle (and presumably the basic models of other e-readers as well) is that there’s no temptation to do anything other than read a book.

So, I think I was right that I don’t like reading on electronic devices; what I was missing is that the basic Kindle is more like a book than an electronic device.

— 5 —

What are your New Year’s resolutions? To keep it simple and doable, I’m going to choose just one thing to work on this year. But I haven’t decided what that one thing should be, so I’m looking for inspiration.

— 6 —

Winter Solstice was December 22 and, as usual, it bummed me out that the days will now start getting longer. I think I have some kind of summer version of Seasonal Affective Disorder: I always feel happy and excited when sunset comes earlier and everything is dark and cold, and I’m sad when I see the first signs of Spring at the end of each Winter. It could have something to do with the fact that I live in a climate that’s inhospitable to human life during the summers, but I do recall feeling the same way when I lived in places like Denver or Bismark too.

— 7 —

To kick off the new year, here are Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin singing Auld Lang Syne:

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— 1 —

Last week we had a moment that made us realize that Yaya is fully settled in to her new house in our neighborhood: The other day she was talking to a neighbor she recently met, and the neighbor commented about how busy she must be with her job. Yaya is retired, so she was confused by the question. She asked the neighbor what she meant, and the neighbor replied, “You own a daycare, don’t you?”

Ah, yes. You know you’re fully integrated with the Fulwiler family when people start asking you if you run an in-home daycare.

— 2 —

As I mentioned, the tree is decorated. There were some naysayers who were skeptical that we could figure out a way to get the star on top, seeing as how the top of the tree is only half an inch below the ceiling.

There was talk of saws and clippers and all sorts of work to reshape the top of the tree that made me tired just thinking about it. So I stepped in and solved the problem, Jen-style:

Nobody has even noticed that our star is tacked to the ceiling, just kind of hanging in front of the tree. I win.

— 3 —

Fellow writing nerds, listen up! I’ve stumbled upon something really interesting that you’re going to enjoy pondering: The critical importance of theme. The way I’ve come to see it, the theme of a story is the underlying element of it that transcends the individual events and touches on the universal human experience. Especially in memoir, it’s what takes your story from forgettable navel-gazing to an expansive story with wide appeal. For example:

• Scene 1 (no theme): Dude writes about eating a tomato.
• Scene 2 (with theme): Dude writes about eating a tomato. He explains that he grew it in his farm’s garden, and that this is an heirloom variety that would have been eaten by the farm’s original owners back in 1812. It is the evening of his 40th birthday, and he reflects on the fact that all the people who enjoyed these same tastes back in the nineteenth century are now gone, and that his own life won’t last forever. As he savors the textures and flavors and aromas of the tomato, he resolves to make the most of each day from here forward.

That’s an example from the memoir The Bucolic Plague by Josh Kilmer-Purcell. Scene 1 is how he could have written it, which would have been uninteresting; Scene 2 is how he did write it. The themes of “man reflecting on his mortality” and “the importance of savoring simple moments” animated the chapter, and elevated it from a self-centered journal entry to a moving glimpse of the universal human experience.

Fellow writers, heed my example and save yourself a lot of work: A large part of the reason that I am re-writing my book for the third time is that I had not nailed the theme the first two times around. I had not chosen one universal aspect of my experience that I would use to drive the main storyline, and the result was that I could never figure out why it kept feeling kind of flat.

— 4 —

Understanding theme has helped me enjoy reading as well. I’ve realized that there are certain themes that I enjoy more than others, and I now select new reads in part based on what the theme is. Here are some examples from popular books:

• BOOK: The Kite Runner | THEME: Redemption
• BOOK: The Help | THEMES: Finding empowerment in oppression; speaking the truth despite personal risk
• BOOK: Eat, Pray, Love | THEMES: Living life to the fullest; the search for spiritual enlightenment
• BOOK: A Million Miles in a Thousand Years | THEME: Living life to the fullest
• BOOK: Three Cups of Tea | THEMES: Living life to the fullest; finding fulfillment in giving back to others

I may not have perfectly articulated these themes, but you get the idea. Also, each author has his or her own take on the theme. E.g. In Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert’s take on the theme of “living life to the fullest” seemed to be something like, “In order to live life to the fullest, a person must have complete autonomy to do whatever she wants” (or something like that). Interestingly, whenever I read a book that I just can’t seem to connect with, it almost always comes down to the author not seeming to have a clear theme.

— 5 —

Was all this talk of theme making you wonder if there could perhaps be any Christian themes in the classic children’s tale The Princess and the Pea? If so, you’re in luck. That’s exactly what Anna Mitchell and I were talking about on the SonRise Morning Show last week:

— 6 —

Remember how I gave up coffee a while back? The problem was that I often felt like a rage-filled madwoman about an hour after I’d drink a cup, probably due to blood sugar issues. Anyway, I’ve found that if I drink coffee on an empty stomach, it’s fine. As long as I have a cup before breakfast, I don’t experience any of the ill effects that used to hit me from my after-breakfast cup. Especially now that cold weather is here, I’m ridiculously excited about having coffee back in my life.

— 7 —

I’ll leave the linky list open until Tuesday for those of you who might want to do Quick Takes a little later this week due to holiday craziness. Merry Christmas, everyone!

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— 1 —

We finally got the tree decorated. Which is good. Because it really needed to happen. For a couple of weeks it looked like this:

What happened there was that Yaya kindly bought us a Christmas tree this year, a little before I was ready to decorate it. (Translation: She was so appalled that we didn’t get around to buying a tree last year that she took matters into her own hands this time. One day in late November I heard a some banging noises and squealing tires outside. I opened the front door to glimpse Yaya’s car speeding around the corner, and looked down to see a large Douglas Fir at my feet.)

Anyway, in between the time when we had the tree and when we were actually ready to decorate the tree, I just started throwing things in its general direction as I walked by. So when the kids talked me into getting this fancy garland at the grocery store, and I had no idea where to store it since all our places where we can put things so that they won’t be destroyed by little hands are already taken, I just threw it in the general direction of the tree and forgot about it. (And, sadly, it was kind of an improvement over The Great Can’t-Deal Christmas of 2010.)

If I keep playing my cards right, I just might be up for a spread in House Horrible magazine one of these days.

— 2 —

I realize that a lot of Catholic families don’t have a tree quite this early. They make sure that Advent is…Advent-ish (I am obviously tired while writing this), so that the Christmas season can be completely…Christmas-like (or maybe I just don’t have a brain anymore). Anyway, you know what I mean: the season of Advent is about preparing for the Lord, and the season of Christmas is about celebrating his coming. I love this. But we are just not able to go there yet.

Our families have been shockingly supportive of all the upheaval that’s taken place since my husband and I became Catholic. They are baffled but understanding about my husband’s choice to get on a career path that means less money but more time with family. They nod uncomfortably when they offer to serve us something that we’ve given up for Lent. They try not to think about the fact that we don’t use contraception. Heck, Yaya even goes to church with us! But there are some lines you can’t cross, and I think that if we tried to change the family Christmas traditions, we’d have big problems.

In our families, you start celebrating Christmas the day after Thanksgiving and have a tree no later than the first weekend of December. Any deviation from this is taken as a clear indicator that you are a joyless person who cares neither about the season nor about living any kind of quality life. And so, we have stuck with the traditional American Christmas schedule. Submitting to the authority of the Pope as the Vicar of Christ is one thing; not playing Jingle Bells until December 25 is another thing entirely.

— 3 —

All that talk in #1 about throwing things into trees that you don’t know what to do with reminded me of a story I’ve never shared, for reasons you will understand shortly:

A few years ago I had a new friend come over to the house. She is an actual classy person who has a lovely home that is always inviting to visitors, and I was hoping that we’d become friends, so before she and her kids arrived I just about worked myself to death to fix up the house to give a completely inaccurate impression of what kind of people live here. At one point she was sipping on the cup of tea I’d brewed for her, and she took a moment to gaze out the porch door and compliment our bird feeder. I stood next to her, talking about how the kids helped set up the feeder, when a horrible sight caught my eye: Out in the back yard there was a pair of horribly soiled children’s underwear, which we’d thrown out there desperately the day before while dealing with the kind of potty accident that just about called for a hazmat suit. I’d planned to do something about the underwear languishing in the middle of my back yard at some point, but, hey, you can’t remember everything.

Unfortunately my friend saw the atrocity at the same time I did, and I ran out to deal with it before she had a chance to flee. Gingerly picking up the now-retired pair of underwear with a stick, I walked it over to the side of the house, then promptly returned. As we sipped our tea back in the kitchen, I went out of my way to dissociate myself with the decision to have something like that in our back yard in the first place.

“My husband put them out there,” I explained with a casual laugh, glossing over the part about me shrieking JUST THROW THEM OUT THERE!!! beforehand. “Aren’t men so funny?” I said with a wink. “Dirty underwear in the yard. Imagine!”

And then she asked a question that caught me completely off guard: “So what did you do with them?”

There was no way to spin this. The truth was that as soon as I’d had the muddy-looking item on the end of that stick, I’d done what I always do in these situations: I got completely overwhelmed and threw my hands up in despair, defaulting to whatever course of action would involve the least amount of effort for me. So, as I explained to my friend, who would now have a much better impression of the type of person she was dealing with here: “I, uhh, threw them in the bushes on the side of the house.”

— 4 —

We had the kids’ pictures taken with Santa the other day (“we” meaning “my mom, dad, and Yaya wrangled five kids under the age of eight to the mall while I stayed home and relaxed” — just keeping it real here, folks). After the pictures were finished, my dad noticed that this particular Santa must have been from the western part of the North Pole:

— 5 —

Speaking of Texas stories, last weekend my husband and I went out to dinner with some friends who have an 11,000 acre ranch (that’s about 44.5 sq. km.) way out in the western part of the state. We had a lot of interesting conversations with them about what it’s like to live on that amount of land. Then we went to the next party, hosted by another friend who is also from west Texas, and told her about our other friends’ amazing ranch. She seemed kind of amused by this quaint little plot of land, which was surprising…until we remembered that she’s part of the King Ranch family. Her ranch is about 825,000 acres (about 3,300 sq. km.) — or, about the size of Rhode Island. I’m pretty sure that that kind of exchange would only happen in Texas, or perhaps the outer regions of Mongolia.

— 6 —

I have good news for you, internet: Now that my husband is done with his JD, MBA, and CPA certifications, he has turned all his intelligence and analytical ability to crafting the perfect winter drink. After a couple of weeks of experimentation on a basic rum cream, I do believe that he has achieved this lofty goal. So, as a special gift from me to you, I present you with our super secret recipe:

1 cup of ice
4 oz. sweetened condensed milk
1/4 cup half & half (or heavy cream)
2 Tbsp chocolate syrup
2 Tbsp vanilla extract
2 Tbsp coconut cream
2 Tbsp cherry juice from a jar of marischino cherries
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
2 to 3 shots dark rum (light rum is an acceptable alternative)
1/2 shot coffee liqueur (such as Kahlua)

Merry Christmas from the Fulwilers!

— 7 —

As you make your Christmas plans, don’t forget about people you know who have lost someone special through death or divorce this year. I’ve often heard people who’ve experienced loss, especially if it happened early in the year, talk about feeling especially sorrowful on their first Christmas without their loved ones. They experience an initial outpouring of support at the time of the loss, but then feel alone by the time the holiday season rolls around. So if you know folks who have been through something difficult this year, consider taking their contact with you on Christmas, and give them a call to let them know you care.

UPDATE: Robin has a powerful post about those who mourn in the Christmas season. She writes: “If you have a friend who is longing for someone else this Advent, especially someone who died in the last year or two, sit down this week-end and write a note, or send an email. It might be the most important thing you do this month.” Read the third comment too.

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— 1 —

For the first time ever, I did all my Christmas shopping online. (Well, almost all: I note that I did go out of my way to buy a few things at a locally owned toy store that sells hand-crafted wooden toys whose earthy charm makes up for the fact that they’re kinda boring, mainly so that I could talk about how I patronize locally owned toy stores that sell hand-crafted wooden toys whose earthy charm makes up for the fact that they’re kinda boring.)

Anyway, the onslaught of packages has begun. With five kids, four parents, godchildren, a babysitter, and two preschool teachers on the list, the flow of brown boxes into this house has been endless. I mean, the brown delivery van is out in front of our house more often than it’s not. We thought about including the UPS guy in our family Christmas photo. We’re adding another room on to the house using solely the packing materials from all these orders. On the plus side, Amazon’s universal wish list functionality simplified everything, since I was able to collect all my ideas in one place over the year, and shopping at only a few online stores made it easier to stay within budget. For the first time ever, I think I can honestly say that I’m done with all my Christmas shopping before Gaudete Sunday.

— 2 —

You know what made Christmas shopping a lot easier this year? Realizing that I have issues with decision making. I actually do fine with choices like which car or house to buy; but ask me to select between the fried shrimp or the cheeseburger at a restaurant, and I’m borderline catatonic. (Earlier this year I thought about getting a book about it, but in a you-can’t-make-this-stuff-up moment, I couldn’t decide which one to get.) So anyway, I realized that in previous years, the reason I didn’t do my Christmas shopping until December 20 (okay, December 24) was because I was afraid to make the decision: What if I chose the wrong thing? What if I found something better right after hitting Confirm Purchase? Waiting until the last second made things easier, in that it removed the opportunity for regret: i.e., even if I did find the perfect item for my husband after settling for a mere banana suit, I could console myself with the fact that there simply would not have been time to get anything else.

The fact that all my Christmas shopping is already done is mainly due to making it my goal to get over my weirdness about decisions. Once I assured myself that it’s fine if what I’m buying is just my best shot at getting something the recipient will like, and perhaps not THE PERFECT ITEM THAT SHE SHALL TREASURE FOREVER AND EVER, getting the shopping taken care of was actually a breeze. (And, yes, pretty much everything in my life requires this much analysis.)

— 3 —

Since there are quite a few new folks here after Andrew Sullivan and Ross Douthat discussed my conversion story, I though I’d mention that I threw my $0.02 into the debate over at the Register.

— 4 —

I just love this catchy little song, which I originally heard on the MAD Christian Radio Show, which has an amazingly eclectic collection of music:

It’s by a ska Christian band called Buck. Who knew there were ska Christian bands?!

— 5 —

I stumbled across something with book writing that has been tremendously helpful, even if it is bizarre and nerdy: I’ve spent some time thinking of who a perfect “audience” would be, and I’ve written those people’s names on index cards. Each time I sit down to write, I pull an index card at random, and write as if I’m speaking to that person. The criteria for choosing these imaginary listeners was:

• It can’t be anyone I know well, since I’d be too likely to cut corners and not explain things they already know — thus all the names are those of celebrities, people whose blogs I follow, or friends I’ve recently met.
• They have to be people I’d speak to in a similar manner. E.g. It wouldn’t work if I had both Howard Stern and Queen Elizabeth on the list, since I’d speak to the two of them in different tones.
• I have to have some reason to think they’d at least be mildly interested in the subject matter. E.g. If I were writing a book examining the work of Henry David Thoreau, I probably wouldn’t include Snooki in my audience cards.

As crazy as it sounds, it’s been really helpful. There’s something motivating about having a specific visual for whom I’m speaking to, and switching out the names brings a fresh perspective to each writing session.

— 6 —

I just remembered that there is one person I don’t have a gift for. My dear cousin is coming to visit for Christmas, which is a big deal to me — we’re both only children, and we’re the two oldest grandchildren of our grandparents, and so he’s the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother. I’d like to get him something meaningful, but what? He’s a super smart, super creative, atheist hip-hop DJ who lives in Brooklyn. Any suggestions for something I could get him would be welcome! (And I am going to go out on a limb and guess that he doesn’t read his cousin’s Catholic blog, and therefore I’m not risking spoiling the surprise here.)

— 7 —

In case you missed yesterday’s post, Simcha Fisher had baby number nine this week! You can get your gratuitous baby picture fix here, or read a Best of Simcha collection and/or contribute to a virtual baby shower gift here.

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Simcha Fisher had her ninth baby this morning, a healthy baby girl weighing 8 lbs., 14 oz. (4.03 kg) and with the superhero name of Benedicta Maribel! A few folks have asked if there’s a way to give her a gift, so I thought I’d do a little online baby shower in the form of a PayPal button for those of you who’d like to join me in welcoming Miss Benedicta with a monetary gift to her parents:

A couple of notes:

• I’ll leave it open until next Friday, December 16.
• Other than PayPal’s nominal fee, 100% of donations will go the the Fisher family (i.e. there is no cut for the Jennifer Fulwiler Boxed Wine Fund).

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Simcha, allow me to use my encyclopedic knowledge of her body of work to give you a sample. I think she’s one of the funniest, most talented writers out there today, and posts like this are why:

I went out to buy a skirt:

First, I try to repair thirty-three years of dressing timidly…with a single purchase. I begin to hunt for something completely opposite from my usual taste, because, after all, this one needs to count! If I’m going to take the radical step of actually picking something out, instead of just mysteriously finding it in my closet, it might as well be interesting, right?

Bristling with confidence and imagination, I rapidly choose four shirts, two skirts, and even a dress, even though I’m still nursing the baby all the time. Everything I pick is clingy, ruffly, and has straps in unusual places. There are unexpected diagonals, and even patterns.

I beam at the attendant and proudly announce that I have seven items! She seems puzzled at my pride, but hands me a plastic “7″ tag. I step into the fitting room, with all the mirrors and lights, and I take off my clothes…

On CLF light bulbs:

Now, I understand that these bulbs are better for the environment, because they save energy. But this is only true for overhead bulbs, because my kids can’t reach them for smashing purposes. Any other bulb in any other light fixture at our house works out to be much, much worse for the environment. Here’s how:

MY KIDS: Ooh, a lamp! Let’s kick it until it’s dead!
LAMP: Smash.
ME: (lying on the couch dying with morning sickness): . . .I didn’t hear anything. . . [promptly manages to actually forget about everything]
LAMP: I guess I’ll just lie here and bleed poison all over your house, you dirty breeders.
KIDS: Yay, let’s throw stuff around!
HUSBAND: Hi, I’m home! Hey, there’s broken glass all over the room. There’s mercury mixed in with the six bags of winter clothes you were sorting, and it’s all over the portacrib. Okay, well, you lie there, I’ll take care of it.

Maternal guilt cheat sheet:

THE OFFENCE:
Realizing that, while your older kids could pretty much work for Catholic Answers as top level apologists, the younger ones are not quite up to speed, catechetically speaking. They are, for instance, under the impression that there are three Gods, one of whom is named “Jeremy.”

THE SOLUTION:
Design a two-birds-with-one stone remedial curriculum in which — genius! — the older kids teach the younger kids their catechism, thereby educating the younger ones while giving the older ones the invaluable reinforcement of having to put their knowledge into words. If you are feeling especially ambitious, you might even make them do it, rather than just making a chart about it.

Console yourself with the idea that the faith of converts is often so much more vibrant than that of cradle Catholics. Pray that your children will someday convert to Catholicism.

There are worse things than being hot:

This ungratifying system even works, in a feeble way, with a water slide (and the poor kids don’t even realize the water is supposed to be gushing out in a fabulous, fun-tastic wave of SplashAction! What it does is limply burble a little, and they pretend to be puppy dogs, and line up to take turns licking it. I know, I know. This is why I don’t put my last name).

Anyway, the catch is that, in order to get the water flowing down hill through the hose, you have to get all the air out of it.

Yep, pregnant lady stands in the back yard, in full view of the constant line of bored truckers who barrel past our house…suckin’ on a hose.

Evil always wants distance:

Evil always wants distance. But the Incarnate God did not come to us remotely, observing and supervising our salvation from on high. Instead, He came to us. He feeds us, He breathes on us, He makes a mixture of spit and mud and daubs it on our eyes so that we can see.

God always wants closeness. Not the false intimacy of sentimentality and pornography, not the shallow closeness of gratified desires — but the dogged intimacy that does not allow me to turn my face away when I am done.

God wants closeness. I do not say that closeness brings comfort: the closeness that love demands often leads to pain. Christ showed us the beauty of love when He became a man, and then the pain of love when He accepted the intimacy of nails through his hands. This is how we are made.

Making room for the baby (and The Baby):

I responded the same way I do every time I face this particular dilemma: I cried. I couldn’t help it. So much of managing a big family is making order out of chaos—not even making things clean, but just making cleaning possible. And despite the relative sanity of our lives these days, facts are facts: There is just no room. [...]

That’s my plan for Advent this year: making room where there is no room. I have a whole other person who needs space in our house, in our routine, in our lives. What to do? A fresh, breezy room full of spacious shelves and empty closets is not going to attach itself to our house overnight; and I will not become a flawless, holy, worthy receptacle for my savior, the Christ Child, when He comes. I can barely get through a Hail Mary without driving off the road from the sheer distraction, so what can I do to make some room?

Thanks in advance for any donations! And since I’m not on Facebook, if folks could share it there I’d appreciate it.

Blessed Advent!