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    The working mother

    She rises at dawn to lace up her running shoes, logging hard-won miles in the gray light of morning. She is up before the sun with a sick baby, a nursing baby, an anxious kindergartener, making toast and oatmeal and gestures of comfort. She is still asleep at dawn because the baby nursed four times last night. She leaves the house by seven to get the kids to school, to get to her office, to get to the grocery store because the milk ran out. She is stuck in the house into well past noon with a sick child, a…

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    Coffee clicks: It’s May

    I have been totally overwhelmed by your responses to last week’s housekeeping post. I initially began blogging as a creative outlet, was drawn deeper into the rhythm and discipline of daily writing as a lonely new mom…

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    A New Season

    Remember those heady days of early blogging when the mommies – and the blogs – were plentiful? I was messaging with a writer friend this morning, reflecting on what an unusual and also extraordinary thing it was…

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    Accepting Holy Week

    Lent can be a strange liturgical season for mothers. There is much wisdom and tradition to impart, and also it’s pretty much impossible to make it to stations of the cross, because 7 PM is a time…

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    Coffee clicks: Passiontide

    I can hardly believe we’re a week out from the Triduum. I was rattling off my liturgical wish list to Dave the other night saying how I really wanted to go to the Easter Vigil but, alas,…

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    The ache of the oldest child

    This morning I took the 3 younger kids to Mass, and it was neither our best nor worst performance to date. Zelie squirmed and screamed and needed to be escorted out a couple times, and Luke too,…