Mama-luia

Lent is here, my friends, and I am quite happy about that. Happy, you say? Why, isn't Lent about wandering around tragically, being deprived of all that is good and enjoyable, feeling miserable, and looking dour? No, no, no and no (although I assume you gathered that; that was an obvious straw man of an expression). In case you did think Lent was about these things, let's recall Ash Wednesday's Gospel. "And when you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by men but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you." Ah yes, being pleasant about our Lenten penances. So back to me being happy about Lent. Here's a secret: I've always liked Lent. No, I don't like penance (I see it's ...

Every 10 days or so, my cousin, who has a baby just a little older than Noah, invites me over to her house. We drink tea, talk about "new mom" stuff and watch our growing babes admire each other. It's always an enjoyable time, and a breath of fresh air when any other moms I am friends with live so far away from me. The only catch is, she lives on the other side of the bridge, and I don't drive. I really should have my license; it's actually ridiculous that I don't. I intend to, soon, but it hasn't happened. So every time I want to go over there, my mom ends up driving me. I'm always embarrassed, humbled and worried I don't express just how grateful I am when she takes me out. Anyway, recently my dear mama was visiting my sister in Ontario. My cousin invited me over, and I had to sheepishly decline, because there was no way I was braving the buses during that bitter snap we were having. My cousin wrote me back asking if I would be willin...