The Betrothed

Several years ago I requested to be taken by my parents to a Catholic bookstore for my birthday. Because I am cool like that. The bookstore was nearly an hour from our house so it was kind of an event. We went to Mass and ate kolaches and bought books. One of those books was Alessandro Manzoni’s The Betrothed.

I did not read that book. 

I meant to read it, obviously, but you maybe know how that can go. I ended up clearing off my small bookshelf at some point and The Betrothed ended up in the pile of books to be given away.

About six or so months ago, I told Alex I had been seeing quotes from The Betrothed everywhere (Anthony Esolen seems like a big fan) and had decided to give it another go. 

“We pray to Thee also for the poor wretch who has brought us to this pass. We should be unworthy of Thy mercy, if we did not heartily beg it for him also, knowing how sorely he needs it…Have pity on him, O Lord; touch his heart, return him to Thy friendship, and grant him all the good things that we wish for ourselves.” – AM, The Betrothed

“Oh, you will love it,” my sweet husband said. “You should definitely read it.”

So I go it from the library. 

I did not love it.

I did not love the first chapter. Or the second. Or the third.

“Aaaaaalehhhhhx,” I moaned. “What in the actual world?!?”

Alex: “What do you mean you don’t like it? I thought you would love Fra Cristophoro!”

Me: “Who?”

Alex: “You haven’t even gotten to Fra Cristophoro? Well, you have to keep reading then.”

In the fourth chapter, which incidentally began on page seventy-freaking-five, you meet Fra Cristophoro. Finally.

Then I was interested. 

“One of the strangest faculties of the Christian religion, and one of the hardest to understand, is her power of giving direction and consolation to everyone who has recourse to her, in no matter what circumstances, at no matter what time…She is like a great road, which a man may find after wandering in the most tangled labyrinth, amid the most dangerous precipices, and once he has taken one stride along it, he can walk on safely and gladly, and be sure of a happy end to his journey.” – AM, The Betrothed

I got bogged down again when there was a lot of story without Fra Cristophoro.

“Aaaaaalehhhhhx,” I moaned.

Alex: “You have to keep going until you get to the Cardinal. You’ll love him.”

He was right. And after a few conversations of this nature, Alex ended up talking me through the whole book. All seven hundred and twenty pages. 

“How have you failed to reflect that there is One Who will infallibly give you courage when you ask Him for it? Do you believe that all the millions of martyrs who died for our faith had natural courage, or that they had no natural concern for their lives? All those young people…all those old men…all those maidens, wives, mothers…? Yet they all had courage, for courage was necessary, and they had faith.” – AM, The Betrothed

Alex: “Did you love it? Was it so wonderful?”

Me: “It was wonderful. But I don’t know if I loved it.”

Alex: “WHAT?!?”

Now, after a few weeks to mull it over, I have decided that I do love it. I have even decided that I would recommend it. I have further decided that since you may possibly (probably) need somebody to talk you through it like Alex did to me, I hereby volunteer myself.

“You must pray again for the divine grace that you prayed for in the beginning, to help you to be a holy wife. You must have faith that He will grant you that grace in even fuller measure. Love each other as fellow-travelers on that road, remembering that you must part some day, and hoping to be reunited later for all time.” -AM, The Betrothed 

It wasn’t always “fun” to read. But it was often achingly beautiful. It took me a while to get into it, but it stuck with me long after I put it down. I’ve found myself mulling it over as I did dishes, ran errands, drifted off to sleep. And I found that it drove home to my heart a truth I’ve known in my head my whole life: nothing is more extreme than God’s provision. Nothing is so terrible or evil or unthinkable that God in His wisdom and mercy cannot build a new road for us over the ruins of human interference. God not only makes all things new, He makes them beautiful. And if you need that truth to echo a little louder in your heart, nothing can repeat the message for you quite like The Betrothed.


Photo Dump

Martha said I needed to get back to blogging so…Hi, Mart. *kiss kiss*

I always have the very best of intentions about sticking to blogging schedules and then, LIFE. Which is no excuse I suppose, but when it comes to choosing between husband/baby time and homemaking stuffs versus bloggin’ the blog loses miserably Every. Single. Time. Maybe someday I will be better at balancing all my things like some of the lovely lady bloggers I know. 

For now, I thought I’d show you what it is we been up to. 


We hang out, me and the baby. We call it Smishin’. The reason why we call it that is not complicated. In the midst of the myriad nonsense my daughter and I babble to each other, I somehow came to call her Smish. This nickname stuck, for some mysterious reason. We now generally call her Smish. We use this word in various ways. If she’s being silly, we call her Smishy or tell her she’s being smishy. If she’s being crazy, we call her Smisha. (Pronounced Smeeesha, for your info). If you’re spending time with her doing any activity at all or no activity in particular, you’re Smishin’. I spend a very pleasurable amount of time Smishin’.

As an aside, one of the many benefits of Smishin’ is that whenever you have the opportunity to acquire Dollar Tree fairy wings or jumbo crayons, you should go for it because these things will benefit your life and generally improve the quality of your everyday activities.

On to more specific life events: the studly hubs took the week of our second anniversary off and swept me off my feet in the direction of the Magnolia Silos. I do not fangirl often but when I do, Joanna Gaines is probably involved. Or her shiplap or her subway tiles or her cotton bolls or…anyway.

We left early to get there, stopping in Austin for a cozy Central Market breakfast, where my cutie pies proceeded to ham it up for my ever-ready iPhone camera.

We arrived to Waco in not-exactly-good-because-traffic but also not-awful time, and after browsing the Magnolia market we hit up the bakery, Magnolia Flour.

Which is fabulous but also difficult, because you have to choose from a card and not a display, so I got a Cup o’ Jo cupcake and not a cinnamon roll. Once I saw the cinnamon roll AFTER ORDERING A CUPCAKE I felt like the cinnamon roll and I were star-crossed lovers, but the cupcake was an incredibly delightful consolation and in the end I forgave it for jumping off the menu card at me before the cinnamon roll and I had a chance to lock eyes.

We wandered around the grounds and ate from food trucks and ambled through the garden and took more pictures.

Adeline had many admirers who stopped to awkwardly observe this mini-shoot. Always entertaining.

As you can see from her sweet rosy cheeks, it was hot.

The next big event was going to Houston later that same week for a brief visit with my awesome-sauce family, and returning accompanied by the shining light of the Marty Party. 

With whom we had an outrageous amount of fun for four blissful days, during which we did many fabulous things, including eating great quantities of delicious food and pretending to talk on restaurant buzzers like cell phones.

Until she went back to work, leaving us utterly bereft of sunshine and happiness. 

Well, not quite. 

But it was a pretty close shave. 

After all these excitements there were some days of catching up, but we have now managed to settle back in to our “routine” and I am loving it. I relish my sweet, quiet days of making and doing and homey-ness. 

And Smishin’. Lots of Smishin’.

How to Move Like a Boss

Wellp, we moved. It’s done. It happened. It was did.


Two weeks three weeks after (was writing this post a week ago, baby woke up, aaaaand several days later) I still feel like I’m trying to get settled back in to a rhythm, but I feel like I’ve gotten into enough of one to blog about it, so…Hi. 

It’s the second time I have moved a household, the first time being when we got married. Now that I have this vast experience, I feel qualified to write a blog post about it. Well, to be truthful, not feeling really terribly qualified, but what the heck. 

Therefore, here follows my exhaustive list on How To Move Like A Boss.

Read this book.

I quickly lost count of the times I heard or saw references to The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. I therefore doubt this is the first time you’ve heard of it. There are some parts I found hokey (I didn’t “thank” my individual possessions when I was sorting them) but Marie Kondo’s approach is both practical and creative, and I did think it was worth the read. Definitely helped the sorting process.

Sort Your Stuff.

You guys. The sorting. I think I did maybe three or four rounds. The last round was after I read the book so…just read the book I guess. We were downsizing, which I was and am thrilled about and thoroughly enjoyed. A lot of stuff is gone. And there were three different options when I was sorting:

  • Sell Big Ticket Items – I sold some furniture, some home decor, some kitchen items…I really wanted to have a big garage sale but I don’t have a garage, so I went the modern route and joined a Facebook “garage sale” group. There are some which are more effective than others, so you might want to dig around in your area and see where business booms. These Facebook groups were much easier for me to navigate than Craig’s List or OfferUp, though I know people who do well with those. Just try some out and then sell away…I think I ended up making $250-$300 with pretty minimal effort.
  • Donate – I have a friend who has the patience and expertise to sell pretty much everything she doesn’t want/use. I didn’t have that much patience or time, so I donated a trunk-load (literally, a trunk-load) of stuff to a garage-sale benefiting Opus Dei. That was more fun than dropping off at Good-Will, though I ended up doing that with a few odds and ends toward the finish.
  • Trash. Your. Crap. – (sorry about the language, Mom.) But seriously. In addition to selling a couple hundred dollars of stuff and taking 7-8 bags and boxes to donate, do you know how many garbage bags I filled? Five, you guys. And this from a girl who hates clutter and loves throwing stuff away. When you don’t have the space, you realize how much more stuff you can throw away. And there was a lot. This is the category that benefitted the most from my Kondo reading. It’s okay to throw away stuff that used to be important. Key words: used to be.

Find Some Temporary Housing.

This is super forbidden from a Kondo point of view, but I am (mostly) not ashamed. In a one-bedroom apartment there is just not that much storage, and there are some things that people who live on a budget need to store long-term. For example, baby stuff. Selling it now and buying more when needed seemed counter-productive. I got Adeline’s down to one bucket (half the original amount), but there’s not a place for it here. It went to visit my parents with my Christmas boxes until we need it again. This was super-helpful.

Paint Yo Stuff.

BEFORE you move. We picked a couple of pieces we liked from our collection of gifted furniture and my sweet friend let me crash at her place and use her brushes/sandpaper/rollers/awesome tricks to chalk paint it all white. I like it approximately 17.39 times better now than I did before, and our little place looks bigger with all this light furnishing. Free furniture getting a makeover with a $16 can of paint and help from a friend? Score.

Know Muscle-y Dudes.

My husband, dad, brother, and a friend with a truck helped move all our stuff. Down the stairs of our old second-story apartment, and up the stairs of our new second-story apartment.  Beast Mode.

Have Awesome Moms.

My mama and my mama-in-love packed my kitchen and then cleaned it. Shelves, fridge, stove, everything. It looked pristine. And it was the thing I was dreading most. So, I totally recommend being related by birth or marriage to super helpful and generous women who pack and clean like pros. 

So, basically, learn from the professionals and know the right people. If you hate reading or have lame friends….I dunno. I guess don’t move.  

What did I tell you? Total expert.

Choosing For Better

I got behind in pretty much everything the week before last – blogging and Bible study. I’m still behind, but one of the things I love in the Bible study is: yes, there is a great community to discuss with, but at the same time it was a download so I can pick it up  at any time and dig in again. All this to say that I’m technically on Week 2, Day 3 instead of Week 4, Day 1. So in case you thought you were too late to jump in…you aren’t. You can still go for it. Wink, wink.

I actually managed to wake up before my baby the other morning – I curled up on the couch with my books and found the verse for the day: Isaiah 43:1-3. Since that’s an Old Testament verse (obviously) I used the Internets, because I usually use my Ignatius Press study Bible and it’s only New Testament. So, the USCCB website showed me this:

Once I started reading I decided to include verse 4, as well. The study is focused on our marriage vows, and the focus of that week was “For Better, For Worse.” The parts about passing through rivers and walking through fires seemed like it about covered the “For Worse” aspect, and after all that verse 4 seemed especially reassuring.

At first, I wasn’t sure what this verse had to do with marriage vows. I had to stare at it for quite a while. (Lectio Divina for the win…) Then it smacked me in the face and I wondered how I ever could have thought these verses were about anything besides marriage vows. (Holy Spirit for the win…)

See, confession time: I love my husband. I love our marriage. I love our little family and home. But I get scared.

Sometimes, well, okay, very oftentimes,  I think to myself, “It’s too much. It’s too good. It can’t last. Nobody gets to just stay this happy.”

While we were dating, and then engaged, I heard of two different young women. They were my own age, newly married and pregnant, when each faced the sudden loss of her young, healthy husband. We had mutual friends. Now, in fact, I’m in Facebook groups with both of them. Their tragedies were a shock to me, and I felt deeply shaken. The “what ifs” started to become overwhelming, and while we were engaged I carried around a buried terror that something, some horrible thing, was going to steal my beloved and I would never actually get to be married to him. I finally was able to unburden myself to a sweet friend. Her understanding was soothing, and then she gently reminded me that these fears were not from God. They were of the devil, trying to steal my joy. 

As she always is, this sweet friend was completely right. The fears subsided. Then, we were newlyweds, and they came rushing back. “It’s too good, I’m too happy, it’s too much. Something will happen to him. I’ll lose him. Or, people are always saying how hard marriage is, maybe we’ll stop being happy.” I was terrified to let him leave the house without me. “If he dies,” I thought, “At least I’ll be there with him.”

This might all sound too overwrought, but in my mind, actually, it was just subtle enough that I took a while to catch myself. The fears grew stronger and I didn’t even see them creeping up to overshadow our happiness.

One day I finally talked to my sweet husband about these fears. We made a plan: anytime one of us had these fears, we would pause and pray a St. Michael prayer together. This would remind us that no matter what, God had a beautiful plan for us. No matter what, He had joy for us. 

That worked amazingly well. It was easier to choose to believe in God’s care, easier to choose joy.

Then we had a new baby. 

There are few experiences more terrifying than that of being a new mother. The world is so full of dangerous things, and they are all careening directly towards your tiny, precious child. Later on, the dangerous things still careen, but you get used to it in a way, used to your heart stopping suddenly and your breath catching. But at first, it is overwhelming and terrifying in a way for which no one can prepare you.

I said a lot of St. Michael prayers. I learned again to choose joy. My tiny precious child got older, and I didn’t let her get squashed or maimed or lost or seriously injured or anything. We were happy.

Then we lost our little second baby,  our Evangeline.

Still, after a while, we were able to find joy. But I started wondering, “What is the breaking point? What loss, what challenge, what hurt becomes too much? When do I stop being able to spot the fears? When do they turn real? What makes us stop being happy together? What makes it too hard to choose joy?”

Though I started out wondering what Isaiah 43 had to do with marriage, what eventually smacked me in the face was that this was the answer to all those questions.

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you.”

Don’t fear the loss of your husband, your children, your happiness…hard things may come. Painful things may come. But if those things are not happening right now then those things are not God’s plan for me right now and if I worry about them, I am missing my chance to celebrate what He is doing right now.

“You are precious in My eyes, and honored, and I love you.”

I figure: St. Therese says there are victims souls who offer Christ consolation in His suffering, but there also need to be “victims of Love.” There are people who show God’s faithfulness in times of pain, but surely there also need to be people who show God’s faithfulness through joy.

I don’t want to get so lost in fearing what “for worse” might mean for us, that I forget to rejoice in all the things God offered when He led me to promise “for better.”

“I have called you by name, you are Mine.”

hello, sunshine

Yes, I am still here. No, I did not make my two blog posts last week. I recovered from my baby’s birthday, got sick, recovered from that, and emptied a closet, so…priorities.

I do have some actual blog-y posts in the works, but since my two most important readers (my mama and my mama-in-love) like the weekend recaps with the pictures, the rest of you are just gonna have to wait.

Saturday was not really our big “do stuff” day this weekend, so this can’t be a Saturday Shenanigans post. It was a good day, and it ended with the baby sleeping while the studly husband and I snuggled up on the couch with beef stew, red wine, and David Suchet’s Poirot, so just label the day with hashtag all I do is win and all that stuff.

Sunday we decided to hit up the San Antonio Art Museum. Finally.

My cutie pies obliging my request for a touristy pose.

Nearly two years we’ve lived here and had still not gone. We loved hitting up the free Thursdays at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, and since I just heard that our museum here has free hours on Sunday, we realized the time was right to do our intellectual duty and check out the situation. I heard somewhere that it was a very “Modern Arts” kind of place so we didn’t exactly rush over for that. But, since it was free, it seemed worth a shot. Plus it’s right by The Pearl so we had a backup plan in case it was a dud.

It was not a dud. We spent over an hour in just a few rooms (ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome) with many more left to explore. The European section was under construction, so that was disappointing, but we did get to take the skybridge, so that was a consolation.

Miss A really liked the skybridge.

After the art museum, it was getting close to Mass time. We did our quick change into the Mass-appropriate clothes and went to the Basilica of the Little Flower. We love going there since St. Therese is one of our sweet girl’s special patrons.

I planned on having sweet pictures of that, but the baby fell asleep and so…maybe next time.

We switched back into play clothes and hit The Pearl for our fav picnic spot.

Where I proceeded to get real artsy about our pictures. No pictures of the food because that was not artsy. My usual method of packing picnics had prevailed that morning: make meatballs or sausages as fast as humanly possible, then throw in a cooler with ice packs and whatever fruits and veggies I happen to have lying around. It’s easy and satisfying, though not terribly picturesque. Our picnic spot, however, is more than picturesque enough to make up for it.

We decided the treat for the day would be Lick Ice Cream. 

That place. Oh my. 

We haven’t been in months, so I was pretty psyched about it. Lick’s is one of my happy places. Everything is locally sourced and the flavors are right up my alley of weirdness. The funny thing is that, when it comes to ice cream, Alex and I kind of switch personalities. He is normally the exciting-colorful-spontaneous one, and I’m the organize-schedule-keep-it-classic one. 

Not with ice cream. 

He likes vanilla. At Lick’s he likes chocolate. Specifically “Too Hot Chocolate,” which has cayenne pepper in it. He gets it every time. Then he gets vanilla “to balance it out.”

I get…well, I never know what I’m going to get. I may have maybe finally settled on getting “Goat Cheese Thyme & Honey” every time, but I don’t know. This time I got two scoops of that with a scoop each of “Dewberry Corn Cobbler” and “Honeyed Peaches with Rosemary.” My regret is that I did not ask for a sample of the “Blackberry Lime Basil.” Sigh.

Adeline liked all of it.

She’s quick, that one. 

I mean, she really liked it. 

We took a drive through some of the hill country then landed back at home for showers and…beef stew, red wine, and Poirot. We kind of got in a cozy groove with that. Didn’t want to break up a good thing. We’re back to no-Netflix week nights and a roast chicken tonight though, so you don’t think we actually do that every single night. Just Saturday and Sunday. 

And Friday, actually. 

Never mind.

Hospitality for Husbands

I just did Day 3 of the incredible bible study I won’t stop mentioning until you all sign up…seriously, the ladies who put this together are so wise. This is the third time I’ve done one of their studies and every time changes me. The first was an Advent study, next they did one for Lent, and now the focus is our marriage vows. Whether you are married or discerning marriage, I truly believe you would find this fruitful. They do write a reflection each week, but the study is based on the ancient practice of Lectio Divina and the simple instructions to do this are clearly outlined and easy to follow. Really a beautiful experience. It’s still not too late to join up

Anyway, today’s verses were 1 Peter 4:8-10. In my Ignatius Study Bible they look like this:

“Above all hold unfailing your love for one another, since love covers a multitude of sins. Practice hospitality ungrudgingly to one another. As each as received a gift, employ it for one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.”

Everybody’s experience with these verses is going to be different, and one of the things I love most about Lectio Divina is that your prayer becomes based on what, you might say, jumps out at you. I read these verses several times, but right away one verse had popped.

practice hospitality


And not only did it pop, it practically jumped up into my face.

It immediately made me think of one of the sweetest women I have ever known – my Aunt Herlinda. She died suddenly just a few months before my Adeline was born, and one of the things that stood out at the Rosary vigil we had for her was a story about how every day when her husband, my Uncle Mark, arrived home, she would go and meet him. She would drop whatever she was doing to greet him. She treated him with ungrudging hospitality, as her honored guest, every day.

I think about that all the time.

I’m not the only one. Last time I talked with my Grandmama, she repeated the story: every day when Aunt Herlinda heard the garage door opening, she would go to the door to welcome him home.

I don’t know about you, but to me, that sounds like holiness. Aren’t we supposed to treat our spouses as we would Christ? Wouldn’t I like to think that if Christ walked through the door, I would drop everything to run over and welcome Him?

Isn’t Christ walking through my door every day?

I learned fairly early in my marriage that what you do to love on your spouse is not always what makes your spouse feel loved. For example: as a feverishly enthusiastic newlywed, I kept our little nest obsessively clean. Many days my sweet husband would arrive and I would be so tired from the combination of cleaning and pregnancy that I was, shall we see, a less than amiable companion. I was convinced I was being a good wife because our home was spotless and our dinner was on time.

Don’t worry, we figured that one out.

Alex is not bothered by some toys on the floor or waiting a little while on dinner – he IS bothered when I don’t make time to spend time reconnecting with him after a day apart. I realized what I wanted was not just to express love, but to make him feel loved.

That will look different for everybody. It will look different for the same person at different times. I won’t always automatically know what it is that works best, but I do know I want to learn the hospitality that makes my husband feel at home. Not only at home, but as the person who is honored there.


I have been trying to write up my little collection of randomness for several days now. Two obstacles have stopped me. One was my child, who became a weird napper this week instead of a regular napper. Which does not make her an obstacle really, it just makes this Hashtag Mom Life. The other obstacle was party decorations. When she was actually napping, I was working on the cool stuff for her birthday party which is in LESS THAN A WEEK which I am freaking out about not because her decorations are not done (see obstacle one) but because MY KID IS A YEAR OLD.

Now that we have that little moment of panic behind us, I will attempt to blog like an adult once again. *Ahem.*

I set myself a minimum goal of two posts a week so, here we are, Saturday Morning Blogging Day. If the baby stays asleep.

Before anything else, I want to let all the lovely ladies know that there is a beautiful Scripture Study beginning on Monday that I can’t encourage enough. This is the third time I’m taking part in this amazing group of ladies and it is so fruitful every time. This go around the theme is our marriage vows, and I can’t wait for Monday morning. 


The first one is actually not from this week, I finished them last weekend but they didn’t make into the post. Since I was so proud of them I decided to go ahead and foist them on you this morning. Behold, my reusable produce bags:

I actually love reusable produce bags. I already had three, but three is not enough around here and I was hunting for more. A plan to acquire 12 more fell through and I was getting frustrated because the little baubles are really kinda pricey. Then, my favorite website, Wellness Mama, came to my rescue for the zillion time and posted a tutorial about making DIY reusable produce bags. I had a massive “DUH” moment and went digging in my craft drawer. 

The material was already on hand (a cotton/linen blend, originally $9.99/yard but paid $1/yard at a store closing sale) so only the cord for the closure was missing. I found some pretty blue paracord at Wal-Mart and spent about $2 for what I used. These took maybe 1.5-2 yards. The best price I’ve ever seen for reusable bags was $1 apiece. I got eight made for around $4, so I’m calling a win. It was fun, I felt like I did something cool, and now there don’t have to be those filmy plastic store produce bags floating around for my child to try to snatch from me while I frantically shovel produce into the fridges and cabinets. I have three more tiny bags in production for things like ginger or limes. They are too cute.

The new project I have, besides the party decorations, is to make a felt quiet book  for Miss A. I’m getting to work with an amazing Catholic mom crafter to bring you guys a review of her e-book  tutorial. Her work is spectacular and I can’t wait to write the review and share with all of you so you can get her e-book and make them too!


First of all, we made a pork tenderloin with a new recipe and my mouth is still watering thinking about it. It doesn’t explicitly say Whole30 or Paleo or anything but it’s a clean recipe and I was excited to find it. Also it was super easy because you get to toss all the marinade ingredients into a blender or food processor, pulverize it, and then throw it in a bag with the pork. It was awesome. You should all do yourselves a favor and become addicted with me. 

Secondly, I did make that a carrot top pesto. 

Oh em major gee yum ness. Carrot tops and basil and Parmesan and garlic and me FOREVAH. We actually pulled it out and put some on that Cuban pork you’re all going to love. In spite of the fact that we were majorly mixing international cuisines with that business it was outrageously delicious. Maybe someday I will open one of those hip fusion restaurant places and it can be Cuban Italian. Or something. I guess really the theme of the meal was “random veggie tops” because we also had roasted beets with beet tops. And pesto with carrot tops. The point here apparently being what a weirdo I am.

Excuse me while I take a snuggle break because my gorgeous husband just brought me a decaf latte.

I’m back now. 


So, as you can see from my little Goodreads widget, still working on Allesandro Manzoni’s The Betrothed. You guys it’s kinda long. But I am definitely getting into it. I see blog posts coming from it in the future. 

I also am finally digging into Eat Right 4 Your Blood Type and think it’s fascinating. My parents recommended it and I’m glad they did…I just need to find out what my type is so I can see what I think about the theories myself. They told me my type when I was pregnant but…I can’t remember. Shocker. 

Nearly finished with Divine Mercy for Moms and I can’t recommend it enough. I actually had a very exciting inspiration about this book and I’m ironing out the details for something you won’t want to miss. So, keep an eye out.  Hee hee

Now I really need to go, as much as I love writing: my husband has turned on South American music and is dancing around the living room with our baby, who has bed head and is chirping like a tiny bird. So, I just cannot focus on this anymore. 

Peace out, cuties.