Oh my. He's a person.

Last night while I did the dinner dishes, Jacob worked on his homework. The assignment was to illustrate and write Q words. Jake was surprisingly eager. "Quail! Does a quail have a feather coming out of its head?" Why, yes! That is a quail! How on earth did he know that? I certainly haven't been discussing quail lately. He drew a passable quail and I spelled it out for him to write. Onward with "quick" and "quill." He drew tiny people running and a plumey feather. I spelled. "Mom, how do you draw a quilt?" I made some suggestions. After a few minutes, I started to spell it. Jake interrupted me and said that he'd figure it out himself. Figure it out himself? What? He's going to spell "quilt?" That's a hard word! There's a q in it! I stood by the sink with a dripping plate in my hand and stared at the child. Then he turned with a grin slashed across his face. "Q-U-I-L-T!" I pasted a corresponding grin on my face and let go with a "That's right, Buddy!" But oh my. He knows what a quail is. He knows how to spell quilt. And I did not teach him these things. He has his own life and his own knowledge that is separate from my life and my knowledge. This child that I bore and birthed and fed and burped and rocked to sleep so many nights will go on to have a life outside of my realm of control. He won't be my little buddy forever. One day, and it really won't be that long of a wait, he will be a man. Yes, I know. The fact that children are people is hardly a newsflash. It's the miracle of procreation, blah, blah, blah. But every once in a while, the knowledge hits me like a pie in the face. This, this child of mine, is a person. A PERSON! What a miracle!

Orange grove, grilled cheese, and my shower wall

I am about to get all catholic on you. On Saturday, I went to the library with Claire. I picked out some books for Jacob as well. By happenstance, I picked up a book called A Gift of Gracias about Our Lady of Altagracia. Her feast day happens to be January 21st. Pleased by the serendipitous timing, I checked out the book. Jacob and I read it together on Sunday. After we read it, I explained that sometimes Mary appears to people (note to get a children's book about Fatima). Last year, perhaps the year before, a woman in Miami made a grilled cheese sandwich. She believed that an image of the Virgin Mary could be seen in the sandwich. She had the sandwich tattooed on her breast and then sold it on eBay. I found the story absolutely ridiculous and embarrassing to catholics. What kind of kooky person finds revelation in a sandwich? And then sells the sandwich? I was surprisingly angry with this woman - stories like hers detract from the real miracle of visions at Lourdes, Fatima, Medugorge, Guadalupe, etc. - and wasted few opportunities to sneer at her. During the media hubbub, I noticed that a woman in profile is hidden in the pattern on my shower wall. I joke with myself when I see it that perhaps I should prostrate myself in prayer. And then I could cut out the wall and sell it on eBay. I twitter over that picture more often than I care to admit. Who wants to admit to naked twittering, after all? So, this topic has been rolling around in the back of my mind for a while now, and Our Lady of Altagracia has brought it to a head. While I do believe that Mary appears to people sometimes, I also feel an acute embarrassment about that belief. I'm a rational and logical person and such appearances are not in the realm of rationality and logic. I both believe and am eager to explain away my belief - which made for an awkward conversation with Jacob. And I realized that I believe the possibility of visions exists for me only in the past, or in some foreign locale. But here in my reality, I dismiss it. "The Virgin has appeared to many people, but she'll never appear to you," I told my son. And then I was horrified by my vanity. As if I have the right to dictate when and to whom the Virgin will appear. I still don't believe that my bathroom wall holds an image of the Madonna. But it does hold an image that reminds me of her. And maybe that's something that I should consider a little more carefully.

A few of my favorite things

It's Friday and I'm in a happy sort of mood. So here's a happy sort of list.

• Sudoku
• The crazy confidence that allows Jake to think he can read an advanced reader with twenty words per page.
• Hand-knit socks (which I am wearing today)
• My fuzzy fleeze pullover (which I am not wearing today)
• My wedding ring
• A cup of tea at the end of the day
• The way that Claire pulls up her shirt to put stickers on her stomach