Thursday, January 14, 2010
- I love brushing Maggie's hair, when she'll let me: it's now nearly halfway down her back, a mass of waves and ringlets. Brushing makes it gleam and brings out the lovely chestnut colour.
- Maggie loves her pirate dress so much that as soon as it's clean again, she takes it out of the laundry basket and clutches it to herself as she sleeps.
- Her crèche rings offering a casual day: a whole, uninterrupted day to scrub out corners, make phone calls, pull weeds, run errands, tidy up loose ends, and think calmly about what needs doing next before we move next Wednesday.
- Found in the comments of one of my favourite momblogs. I may paraphrase for Becca next time she starts asking tricky questions about God:
As for believing in God, well, the jackassness isn't in whether you believe or not, it's in what you do in God's name once you decide you do believe. Feed the hungry? Not jackass. Stand on the street as a funeral procession goes by, waving your God Hates Fags sign? Jackass. My Higher Power doesn't hate fags. God hates haters.
As for my kids, I just tell them that religion is like language. People who believe like to talk to God, but God understands all the languages. He doesn't care if you talk to him in Jewish or Hindu or Christian or Zoroastrian. He doesn't even care if you don't believe in Him.
He cares if you're kind to people and put the seat down when you're done peeing.
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