This, That, and the Other

First, the "this":

I feel sort of self-conscious even typing this, but I have been nominated for a blogging award.  Me. The girl who hasn't blogged with any kind of purpose or regularity for about 2 years.

Bonnie, from A Knotted Life, has created the Sheenazing Blogger Awards, in honor of Ven. Fulton Sheen's ability to use modern media for the propagation of the faith.  She has taken a lot of time and effort to put these together, and it is paying off because the list of nominees reads like a Who's Who of the Catholic Blog World.

Oh, and then there's me, too.

I am nominated in the "Best Under Appreciated Blog" category, which refers to my sub-100 followers number and not the fact that this blog is mostly under appreciated by its own author.  I enjoy being in this category (even though I checked out some of the other under appreciated blogs and they are  too cool for school, really good.) -- especially because some of the other nominees in other categories blow my blog out of the water.

I mean really, folks, look at the list, each blog is smarter, funnier, hipper, Catholic-ier than the last! : there's Margaret, Colleen, Dwija, Grace, Hallie, Simcha, and Jen, the lovely ladies from Like Mother, Like Daughter, and . . . well, I'm not typing any more because you get the idea. All the cool kids are there.

Voting is open until Thursday at 6pm central, if you feel so moved to vote for this hidden gem of the Internet.

In all honesty, I would like to take a minute to humbly thank the anonymous someone who nominated my blog at all.  I don't want the above self-consciousness to detract from my gratitude in any way.  That someone thought this blog was nice enough and Catholic enough to even make it through? Well, I am very happy.  In fact, I am accepting this nomination just as if it was an award all on its own.  It's an honor, thank you.

******************

Now, the "that":

SPOOOOOIIIILLLLEEERRRSSS AHEAD . . .  ..

If you watch Downton Abbey and you haven't seen the last episode, or couple of episodes, then wave off now.  WAVE OFF, I tell you.  I will not be responsible for ruining anyone's television pleasure.

Okay, now where were we?  Oh yes, the depressing saga that has become my beloved Downton Abbey.

First there was Ethel having to give up her darling Charlie.  I know, I know - she was a hooker and that is a bad way to raise a child.  But Charlie's grandfather is just about the most awful guy on that show, besides maybe Thomas, and now he gets to raise that little boy.  And you know he'll never have a kind word for Ethel, if he even speaks of her at all.  

When she turned him over to the grandparents and waved goodbye?  And she said, "I'll never see my boy again"?   Well, let's just say my post partum hormones did me no favors there, my friends.

And then this week?  Aughgh!

I knew something bad was going to happen when the doctors started arguing, but I thought it was going to be the baby who died.  I said to Rob, "Sybil won't die, right?  I mean, maybe she'll be in a coma or something?  Or the baby will die?"

Rob, always the diplomat, said, "Yeah, probably a coma."

Even when she had the baby safely and everyone was shushing her and putting her to bed, I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Good thing, too, because that scene where Tom just keeps crying, "Breathe, Love!!" and Cora is begging her baby not to leave her?

Rough on this mama, that's all I can say.

****************

And as for "the other":

It's been rough going here lately.  I love babies, and I especially love my babies, but I do not love what happens to a household when a baby comes home.   I'd like to write about it, but I don't want it to devolve into one big whine-fest.  And I certainly don't want to discourage anyone from having a baby if that is what they are trying to discern.

Babies are awesome.  Sleep deprivation is torture.

Maybe I can figure out a way to write about my struggles, and only do some slight tangential whining? I'll have to see if I'm clever enough to pull it off.  Probably not, given the amount of sleep I'm getting.