Seven Quick Takes, in which I complain about staying in a luxurious hotel while waiting for a roomful of people to applaud for me


I’m in Vancouver, WA for the Catholic Women Rejoice conference tomorrow!  There is still time to register.  Here is the schedule.   Looks like it’s going to be a GREAT day.  I’m really looking forward to meeting some of my Facebook and blog friends for the first time IRL.


Last night, I had a lovely seafood dinner overlooking the Columbia River (I think?) with Lisa Ferry and Sterling Jaquith, who have been coordinating everything, including putting together a lovely assortment of goody bags for the guests.  We were chatting away happily when I realized that, for the last twenty minutes, we’d been talking about dogs.  Not babies.  That is the first time I have ever gotten together with a group of Catholic moms and not immediately launched into an intimate gabfest about teething, diaper rashes, adorable tricks our kids do, and possibly some cervix talk.  But no, just dogs.  This is what you’ve done to me, Shane.

Oh, also, the waitress kept sitting down next to me in the booth whenever she came to our table.  It was the creepiest freaking thing I’d ever seen while eating salmon.  I finally figured out to put my big, fat purse on that side, which put an end to that.  What the heck!

Anyway, by the time we got to the restaurant, we were talking about babies.  And NFP.  And sending our daughters to college.  And a little bit about dogs.


The last time I got on an airplane, I was pregnant with my second daughter, who is now 14.  I was prepared for some changes, like taking my shoes off for security and not being fed anything but pretzels.  But I had completely forgotten that they will, with no shame whatsoever, charge you $12 for a bag of nuts and a pack of gum.  My husband agreed that airport prices are nutrageous.  He’s right!  I was nutraged.


So, hotel bath soap that’s shaped like a massager.


Ingenious, or slightly menacing?


Hold everything.  While I was searching for the image above, I came across this:

I stand amazed before the . . . whatever that was that made somebody decide to market these.  Whew!


Whenever I meet somebody I know in town, in the supermarket or wherever, they say, “Wow, out without any kids?!?!?” and I generally play along, like, “Lah di dah, here I am frolicking in the unheard of luxury of picking up some milk all by myself!”  And it’s true that life sure is a million times easier now that I can leave my little guys with my big kids and just do what I need to do, without the incredible hassle of finding shoes and buckling car seats and so on.

But you know what they says, “Too soon old, too late smart.”  There is no joy in being away from my kids.  I guess it’s because the older ones are old enough that I can see just how short our time together is — and also because the really labor-intensive part of child rearing is mostly past.  I still have little kids, but I have so much help now, and so much experience, and my husband and I work together so much better.

So, young moms who are dying for some time away from your little kids, go ahead and get it while you can, and don’t feel bad about craving some alone time or adult time!  But don’t be surprised when you realize, one day, that that’s the last thing you want.  I just hung up from a Skype conversation with Benny, and now I’m crying.  You working moms who have to leave your kids every day, I don’t know how you survive.


As for being away from my husband, I have decided we are this kind of couple.


This seven rays of sunshine have been brought to you by Simcha Fisher, who will definitely feel better with some breakfast.

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