The Other Side of the Lens

While reading a reflection on this past Sunday's Gospel passage, I was struck by the simple observation of the quite finite list of criteria by which the King of the universe is to judge us all. The expectation to feed the hungry and visit the sick could be fairly summarized in the second greatest commandment, to love one's neighbor as one's self, which we heard a few weeks ago. 

The Other. It's not about me. It's not about my own spirituality, my own fulfillment, my relationship with God, or my opinions and preferences concerning the Church. This is the fundamental choice each of us faces: is my life my own, or is it absolutely abandoned to God and my neighbor? These are, of course, mutually exclusive options.

Recently, I partook in the miracle of human flight. Surrounded by more than 100 others in an aluminum tube in the sky, one of these others, the one sitting directly in front of me, decided to document her travels with about 20 minutes of selfies*. Frankly, I didn't think such a thing was possible. I'm proud to report that I successfully resisted temptations to both photo-bomb her session and/or smash the device under the cold, vulcanized heel of my boot.

In quiet contrast to this is my lovely wife. On a single hand, one can count the occurrences of Mammasita ending up on the aperture end of her own camera. Her absolute concern for her children, these others, totally consumes not only her photography, but also her time, energy, thoughts and, most of all, her body. This is true of all mothers.

On which side of the lens are you?

*In irony of the highest order, my spell-check function suggests "selfless" as a correction for "selfie".

A simple request...

Buried deep in the blankets and pillows of our bed the other day came a simple request in a small sleepy voice, "Can you please pick a shirt that I can love on your arm?" 

Yes of course my dear sweet girl, I can find a short sleeve shirt. For the past couple of months my precious little girl has found a new endearing way to show me love, "loving on my arm" as she calls it. She is fully aware that a new little one is coming and I think just needs a little more love, so she periodically strokes and squeezes my arm as she nestles up to my side just like a cat. It is humbling for me as it's the wiggly part she actually likes, however it seems to be a great way to transition into middle-hood for her as she can still "love on my arm" while baby nurses. In all honesty, I need her touch as much as she does. 

Proper Insult

Heard from the boys room over the rustle of legos, PT to Avery, "You're as helpful as Chester!"

Chester is my parents cat who was too lazy to get of the way of the car backing up even after advanced warning and plenty of time. (He survived with a crazy eye.)

And since were onto great insults involving cats...way back when we lived with Gia and Poppy and we were expecting Mary Colette and our sweet little bouncy guy was into the two's, thus, commonly heard throughout the house was, "Avery Robert!" Well, at one point the cat, Chester, snuck into the house and PT exclaimed in an overly experiated voice, "Chester Robert!" As a parent we all know what the middle name is for and well, I suppose that the cat needed a middle name at that point too.

Manic Monday

For a while now Mary Colette has been enjoying "The Three Billy Goats Gruff." We have been putting together a playset for her since retelling the story is one of her favorite things to do. Here is a few clips of her retelling. 

She "read" the whole story to Granddaddy while he was here, however, I couldn't get that to up load. Thanks Granddaddy for being a such a willing and patient listener. 

What happened to my baby?

Okay this is before, still a baby, just one that fell victim to his brother's temporary tattoos. 

After, can you see what I mean. One little hair cut and he goes on grows up on ya.

Well at least his ears won't be tickled any more. And he does wear it well, even with pizza sauce all over his face.

Friday Photo Favorites

Have I told you, My Love, what you mean to me?

You are the first to help out and the first to comfort. You like things to be the right way and love to follow rules and directions. You love to let us know you love us, only not with words: they get you embarrassed sometimes. You do love to talk intimately with us about really important stuff, like God and Heaven and growing up. You still have all of your childhood innocence, and also are learning how to lead your siblings. All of these things make you amazing. I am not sure that I could get through my day without you, Paul Thomas. Your help is beyond measure and you love is beyond depth. Thank you for being my son and being you.

Friday Photo Favorites

Exhausted!

This girl has been fighting naps for the past few months so we end up with this half the time. She was told to pick up her room and found that the animal basket made a nice bed instead.