A Glorious Case of the Mondays

It's 5 minutes to noon here in the Rocky Mountain Empire, and I can honestly say it feels like 5 pm.

So far today we've had blown out diapers, barfed up breakfasts, and suffered the emotional and physical consequences of our little gluten-sensitive bread addict scoring a 'fix' in the form of a stolen baguette last Friday night. Let's just say diapers and tantrums from the underworld, and leave it at that.

Also, I just found a fist-sized chunk of sparkling clean asphalt in my dryer. All morning I'd been wondering 'is that the sound of rocks in my dryer?'

Close. Oh so close.

So glad I catered to his highness' sweet tooth and whipped up a batch of these bad boys for elevensies. Little ingrate.

The good news is, tonight is the last Presidential debate! And yes, I'll be live-blogging it on Facebook per usual, though I have to admit, I'm so ready to hang up the social network towel again once this whole sh*tstorm has settled and Team Mitt can begin mentally rearranging furniture at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. And making plans for re-installments of English busts and whatnot. Seriously sick of politics this go-round. And since I thrive on the stuff, I can only imagine how the average, temperate media-consumer feels. And it ain't good.

Today, while filled with bodily fluids, tantrums and poor culinary decisions, is nonetheless the feast day of my favorite not-quite-a-saint-yet of all time: Bl. John Paul II.

We were privileged to make the pilgrimage to Rome in 2011 as a family and stood in St. Peter's square while Pope Benedict declared him 'blessed.' It was one of the highlights of my life, and certainly remains one of the coolest things we've done with Joey. Which I will no doubt hold over his head for the rest of his life.

Incredibly, we were able to go back to Rome this past summer, this time with our little John Paul in tow, and early one Sunday morning as Mass came to an end in the Basilica, one very naughty mommy snuck her little chunker up to the altar and touched his little fist to his namesake's tomb. Way cool.

On a more serious note, our sweet John Paul has a medical condition he was born with necessitating a relatively simple, out-patient surgery that is scheduled for this coming Monday, a week from today. His doctors have assured us it isn't complicated or especially dangerous, but he does have to go under general anesthesia, and I can't come into the OR with him. So, that's really hard.

We've been praying under the patronage of Bl. John Paul II since we discovered his condition when he was just 1 day old, and we have confidence that he can be healed without the surgery, if God wills it. Will you join us in prayer this final week? We would have loved to have received an immediate healing for our little man, but how cool would it be if they get him onto the operating table and discover there's no longer a reason to operate?!

Way cool.

So Bl. John Paul II, patron of the unborn and of the youth (among other awesome and numerous things), pray for us on this, your feast day.

And please excuse the mess.