For the last hour, I’ve been sitting in front of a mostly real fire in our living room, sipping Irish coffee and thanking God that autumn finally made an appearance here in southern California.  I’ve also been wondering how to sum up the last year on this blog and in our home.  Just as I was about to come to some sort of revelation, musical theater invaded my brain and now I have the 525,600 minutes chorus from Rent rolling around. It will never leave, I’m sure of it.

Instead of some profound opening, I should just thank all of you for sticking with me for the last year or month or week since you first discovered Sacred and the Profane.  It’s been a lovely little place to jot down thoughts and since I am an absolutely awful journaler, it’s been fun to look back and piece together some sort of record of the last year.

On the blogkeeping side of things, I had hoped to have a new header, beautiful sidebars, and a few other lovely surprises by the time we reached October. C’est la vie.

In no particular order, I thought I’d share a few constants and changes from the last year.

Constants:

• We’re almost to the point where we have lived in this house longer than any other place since we’ve been married–and we’re not going anywhere anytime soon.
• Sushi. Still a favorite.
• Jake Continues to work from the garage doing web design and marketing though our company, eXist designs
• Icon New Media Network, started just around the same time as this blog, is going strong at 30,000 listeners each month and growing.
• Those pictures I was going to frame and hang?  They’re still sitting on my hard drive and the walls are pretty bare.

Changes:

• I started grad school in August and am now pursuing my M.A. in English.  As a result, I’m finally spending more time reading actual pages of books, not just books worth of blog posts (though I can argue that there are some blogs out there that are changing the face of literature.  Look here and here to start.
• Friendships.  A year ago, I was doing good to see one non-family member during the week.  Now, we’ve made a real effort to widen our circle, enjoying noisy burrito nights with new-ish friends and reconnecting with old ones.
• I think it’s pretty clear from my last post how Audrey’s grown.  Ack!
• A year ago, I was still reeling from becoming a mother.  I spent a good deal of time regretting what little I accomplished, wishing I had written more before Audrey was born, and generally feeling like there needed to be more to my days than diapers and the stroller.  Now, I’m getting to a place where I not only feel more comfortable in my role, I think I’m more productive than I was ever before.  My freelance schedule is getting busy.  I completed a book proposal a couple of months ago.  I know I’ll be able to write thousands of words in the still unfamiliar language of academia in the next month or two. It will be okay.
• Seven months ago, my sister almost died from kidney failure.  After being diagnosed with kidney disease, she’s fought to complete her treatment without relapsing.  It’s not something I’ve really blogged about, but I’ve been blown away by her commitment to getting through each day and moving on toward the next.  It’s been one of the hardest things my family has ever experienced, but I’m incredibly proud of my sister and my parents through the entire ordeal.
• I learned how to make California rolls.
• Apparently, Google has also messed with my brain.

God has been good.  Live has been hard.  Life has been beautiful.  I don’t these things to change in the next 1 or 5 or 10 years.  Hopefully, I’ll still be writing about them either on this blog or wherever the world leads us.  You can follow me on twitter now, btw.

When I started this blog, I posted more about current news stories.  That’s sort of dropped off as I got caught up in uploading toddler photos.  The pictures won’t stop, but I would like to get back into the sacred and profane news stories out there.  I also hope the next year of blogging brings more interaction.  I know there are hundreds of you out there (the statistics don’t lie) so I’d really love to get to know my readers more and hear what you would like to see in this space.

Thanks for a great year,

Calee

I’ve been putting off posting about last weekend’s festivities.  On Saturday, we went to the annual Rancho Carrillo Hooligan.  While the petting zoo, frog jumping, chicken poo bingo, and BBQ beef sandwiches were still in top form, I thought I’d show you a big change from last year to this year.

Last year:

This year:

Besides the obvious change in weather (it was so hot this year!) and subsequent poor lighting.
What happened to my sweet little baby?

Last year:

This year:

I know there’s no going back to those sweet baby days and I can’t imagine trying to do what I try to do with an infant again.  But she was so cuddly!  Ah well. I may as well enjoy her cuteness this year.  Next hooligan, she’ll change again.

Also- don’t forget to visit my first ever book giveaway.  Click Here to be a smarty pants and enter for a chance to win a great book.

I know she’s a little young for contemporary potty training, but I would really, really like Audrey to be done with diapers during the day by the time she’s two.  Too much to ask?  Maybe.  While I’m still on the fence about switching to cloth diapers to help her, ahem, notice what’s going on down there, I thought I’d share a couple of songs I overheard from our friend Jennifer B.

There was a girl named Audrey Lee
Went potty in the toilet
P-O-T-T-Y, P-O-T-T-Y, P-O-T-T-Y
Go potty in the toilet

and my favorite

Twinkle, twinkle little pee
Won’t you please come out of me
In the potty you must go
Yes, it’s time for me to go
Twinkle, twinkle little pee
Won’t you please come out of me

We’ve had a few successes, but consistency is the key, right?

Do you have a potty song?  Trick?  Anything you’d like to share?

Also- don’t forget to visit my first ever book giveaway.  Click Here to be a smarty pants and enter for a chance to win a great book.

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as an entry for a contest sponsored by Bush’s Beans.

In my Intro to Graduate Studies class, we’ve been talking about the canon of English literature.  Should we keep the canon? Reform it?  Throw it out all together?  These questions fill hours–the sort of stuff that most people care nothing about.

However- I have noticed that many people care a great deal about how they see the world and how they would like others to see it.

In class, we were offered the chance to do two things, choose 5 books (only 5!) to make up our canon and define the requirements for making the canon.

My requirements:
Each work must provide a framework for understanding contemporary society, how it has arrived at the current place and and encourage readers to engage in critical thought as to how to move culture forward.

My canon:
The Gospel of John
Ovid’s Metamorphoses
William Buttler Yeates’ poem The Second Coming
Tom Stoppard’s play Arcadia
Annie Dillard’s  For the Time Being

While there are a million more things that I think people should read, these are the 5 I chose Monday evening.

Now for the fun part—I’m giving away a copy of any of these texts!

All you have to do is:

1. Leave a comment on this blog describing at least one book and up to 5 that you think should be part of the canon of English literature.   Make sure I can contact you at your email address or website.

2.  For an additional entry, link to this contest on your blog.  Leave a comment or a trackback on this post with a link.

3. This contest will close Wednesday, October 7th at 7pm PST.

The winner gets to choose a selection from my canon.  Enjoy!

edited to add: Audrey will randomly select a winner from a hat or bowl or something.  Feel free to disagree with my process for choosing texts.  Also, while there are good arguments out there for a historically motivated canon, I’m open to whatever 5 books you think everyone should read.  

Bono on the US financial bailout plan:

“It’s extraordinary to me that the United States can find $7 $700 billion to save Wall Street and the entire G8 can’t find $25 billion dollars to saved 25,000 children who die every day from preventable diseases.”

And another meditation:

The [Congolese] diggers feared - and their evil, sinister bosses had worked hard on that fear - that if people like me publicised their filthy way of life, then the mine might be closed and the $3 a day might be taken away.

I’m not an economist by any means.  I don’t know what’s needed to save the US financial system but sometimes, I wonder if it’s even worth saving.  They say it will hurt Main street if they don’t fix Wall street.

I don’t know.  But maybe, it’s not Main street or Wall St. that needs the fixing most.  Maybe, it’s those places where the dirt tracks passing for streets have no name.

Even though I pray and bow and try to devoutly practice an ancient and mystical faith, I am so uncomfortable with real holiness and miracle that my blogging is resorting to nervous laughter.  Please forgive me as I try and record this morning’s experiences.  I hope they’ll make for a more cohesive essay later, but this seems like the place to get my initial thoughts down.

I saw a miracle today.  Not a Christmastime parking space miracle or a Jesus in the grilled cheese miracle, but an honest, non-rational, non-scientifically explainable, holy miracle.

At 7am this morning, we  wrestled Audrey away from the noisy Elmo book, crowded into a room a little larger than a two-car garage and bowed before a weeping icon.

Myrrh was streaming from an image of Mary, the Theotokos and Mother of God, holding the Christ child.  There were no pumps, no reserves, no Hollywood special effects.  The icon was weeping a golden oil that smelled of spice and rose.

I’m thankful that not many people speak Audrey’s language.  At the beginning of the service, she was alternately asking for “Welmo” (Elmo)  or “Neigh” (the horse in the icon of St. George in the icon behind Jake’s head.)

As the choir sang beautifully in English and Slavonic, that’s the Russian version of Shakespearean English, Audrey’s pleas changed.

She wanted Mary.   We had venerated the weeping icon when we entered the church, but Audrey wanted to go back.  To kiss the mama and the baby.  To show them her love.

There are tons of disclaimers and explanations I could write here.  How icons are not idols and we don’t worship them or Mary.  How we love the Mother of God as the ultimate role model of submission to God’s plan for each of our lives.   How every once in a while, the sacred makes a little more of an impact in our world.

But instead, I’ll cry the little tears of motherly joy I held back in the church.

Our daughter, little and willfull and stubborn as she can be, longs for holy things.

She still won’t say “love you” to me or Jake.  But the other night–she repeated “love baby” over and over while I sang a lullabye. I know which baby she was talking about.

In the Roomba v. Dyson court case, I don’t know which one I would root for.  I love them both so much.

Roomba- It’s a robot!  Do you realize my daughter won’t remember a time in her life before robots did chores?  I can’t get over how much cooler that is than her not remembering a time before the Internet or DVD players or the Wii.

Dyson-  This yellow giant cleans everything. So well.  Roomba isn’t perfect.  Dyson will always be my first love.

Both of these lovely vacuums were birthday presents (different years) from either my mom or my grandmother-in-law.  Roomba makes it possible for us to not totally lose it when Hurricane Audrey has struck once again and there are Cheerio crumbs, bits of cheese and crayon shavings blocking the nearest exit route.  Dyson and I get to spend less time together, but it’s the kind of quality time that leaves me knowing I could walk upstairs and see neat little vacuum rows.

I know I COULD live without this beautiful pair, but I wouldn’t want to.

This post was made possible by my mom taking Audrey to the ranch for a WHOLE day and was sponsored by Yoplait and PBN.

Emma, over at Charming the Birds from the Trees, has posted another call for her Commitment to Loveliness feature.

Here are my 5 goals for this week:

Deep clean the house while Nana is watching Audrey.  (After I finish my freelance project of course)
Wear earrings every day
Make a peach cobbler
Finish our new home altar area
Only wake up the Mac if the dishes are done–still meditating on this

Every day is a balancing act. Wow, I’m original.

Most of the time, I’m doing good to not want to put Audrey to bed at 3:30 pm.  I love her deeply, but she wears me out.  Seriously, my mom lost 3 pounds when she watched her for 36 hours.   At even half that rate, I should have disappeared months ago.  By the grace of God, I’m still around to chase her through the fountain and carry her down the stairs when she’s scared to walk down by herself.  I’m looking for ways to be a better mom, a better wife, a better person.  Got any?

I mentioned the other day that the blog was running a bit heavy on the profane side of things.  Sure, Audrey is learning her letters (Y! W! B! B! B!) and I’ve been harvesting yellow Italian squash, but I’ll be the first one to admit that my thoughts have rarely touched on the things that might elevate my being.  Since I’ve now survived a big 18 months of motherhood, I thought I’d bring you some of my new found buckets of wisdom.

Ha!

I am one most not wise, but in the daily begging for bear vitamins and fruit snacks and time in the wagon, I’ve had a few moments to reflect on what others have written and what I aspire to in this thing called motherhood.

I can peruse preschool methodologies and nutrition facts all day long, but when it comes to thinking about motherhood, I have to start with the essence of our selves–what do I hope will be the end result of my parenting?  When my daughter is done with crayons and on to car keys and colleges and careers–what do I hope she will look like?

A hieromonk (a monk who is also a priest) of the Orthodox Church of America has said, “As a mother your great hope for your children should be that they will become saints. ”

Let that sink in for a moment.  Above desiring that my daughter be well read or creative or successful or even happy, I should hope she become a saint.  Sure, there have been wealthy women like Saint Emma who lived mostly happy lives and gave generously to the poor, but most of the time…a saintly life is not one we’d usually wish for our children.  Hagiography is filled with stories of suffering, sacrifice, and the sorts of things people generally avoid.

This realization was beyond frightening.  Why can’t I wish my daughter be a generally good person?  Can’t she just go to church, love God, and live a life that doesn’t include being thrown to the lions?

The article continues:

“When you look at the saints you see what holy people are, the saints are proper human beings, true and authentic, spontaneous and genuine human beings: it is we who tend to be false.”

Well, shoot.  Of course I hope she becomes a proper human being.

I still have very little clue how to actually raise a saint.  But, after wrestling with this thought for the last month, it is what I hope for my daughter.  I’m thankful that there are actual people we can look to for examples of  what it means to be human.  We named our baby after Saint Audrey, a real English princess and queen who was independent and intelligent, devoted to prayer and committed to her faith.  My greatest hope is that my little girl takes after her namesake.

Clean cupboard

Originally uploaded by Calee Audrey & Jake

I’m sorry if my blogging has veered more to the profane side of things as of late.
Our pantry is now ant-free and organized, summer seems to be finally on it’s way out, and I’m getting some real work done today.

I have lots of interesting things a-brewing to write about. Hopefully I can get them to line up as nicely as my soup cans and nutella!