Frakking & Fracking: Best Homophones Ever!

Growing up in a house with four brothers and then teaching at an all-boys high school, the crass culture of cussing has been with me all my life, but now that I am a teacher I have to watch my language. Enter Battlestar Galactica to save the day. By substituting frakking, frakked, or frak in place of that other very familiar four-letter word beginning with the letter f, I have been able to avoid blurting out a word that might jeopardize my job security or taint my character.

Living Hamlet

My sweet, auburn-haired, four-year-old niece, Emma Catherine Grace Thompson, was sexually abused and beaten to death two summers ago. You probably read about this tragic story in the Houston Chronicle or saw a report about it on one of the local television news networks at the time of its occurrence and again this past summer when Emma’s mother, Abigail Young, was tried and convicted of reckless and serious bodily injury to a child by omission. A jury found her boyfriend, Lucas Coe, guilty of super aggravated sexual assault of a child just last week. Needless to say, it has been a cathartic and emotionally draining experience for my whole family. We found precious little comfort in the convictions of the perpetrators of this heinous crime; it was truly a pyrrhic victory at best, for what could gratify the heart other than the return of that adorable child in the flesh? And for that, we must impatiently wait until the Day of Judgment.

 

For the most part, I have successfully contained the seething rage lurking in the dark corridors of my heart, but Shakespeare summoned it forth these last few weeks when I revisited Hamlet with my AP English IV class at St. Thomas. The bard’s tale of the brooding, philosophical hero hell bent on revenge profoundly moved me, stirring something long dormant in one of the subterranean rooms of my soul. I can truly say with a greater degree of certainty than ever before that I not only understand Hamlet’s maniacal desire for vengeance, but I absolutely empathize with him. I observed firsthand the deleterious effects that a calm, collected, and unyielding rage can wreak upon the human psyche. Frankly, it’s enough to terrorize the soul because it is to stare into the abyss. Those famous soliloquies were no longer merely poetical speeches but ineffable ponderings of a kindred soul whose heart and mind were so similar to my own. There was a very real temptation among many of the men of my family to act upon our baser instincts for revenge, like Hamlet, rather than letting the justice system mete out the appropriate punishment for those ignominious offenders.

In-Law Invasion!

The Thompson household welcomed a mother-in-law, a grandmother-in-law, and two aunts-in-law this afternoon. I am beset by women as the female-to-male ratio mushroomed from 3 to 1 to 7 to 1 in a matter of minutes. Yikes! This is quite a change --some might even say payback (karma can be a bi@#%)-- for someone who grew up in a home with a 6 to 2 male-to-female ratio and works at an all-boys high school. To say the evening was eventful would be quite an understatement.

We enjoyed a wunderbar dinner featuring yummy fettuccine with homemade Alfredo sauce…sorry, I… had to wipe some residual dribble off my chin. Jennifer really outdid herself, as usual. Nothing restores a weary traveler's spirits or makes her feel quite so content as a belly full of rich fettuccine, sumptuous white wine, and decadent carrot cake. 

Dandelions and Marshmallows

Anna and I just returned from an early evening stroll around the subdivision. Tonight’s entertainment turned out to be dandelions. Anna giggled and giggled when I made Dr. Seuss-style wishes and huffed and puffed and blew all those gentle wisps of pixie dust into the warm breeze that carried them off into the dipping golden sunset. She just couldn’t get enough of those darn dandelions. “Look, daddy, it’s a daannddeelion.” There is something indescribably cute and charming about the innocent tone and wonder of a two year old sounding out a word for the worst time. Dandelions = wishes and wonder.

Pandora and Daddy-Daughter Time

I think Pandora.com is pretty darn spectacular. This musical site is basically a personalized radio station summed up in one word—SWEETNESS! And I stand by all those caps, thank you very much. What other site on the Internet can I turn to for a quick fix when my two and a half year old is shrieking at the top of her lungs? No, hands down, Pandora.com takes the prize for the most innovative approach to tantrum quashing and daddy-daughter time on the Web.

Pick Your Poison

I have been enjoying my last Friday off from work until summer vacation. You gotta love Round-Up holidays! For those of you unfamiliar with St. Thomas, the school runs an annual fundraiser to generate the financial aid that makes it possible for about a third of the students to afford the steep tuition. The school provides incentives for achieving certain benchmarks, the most coveted of which is Fridays off in April. Every year without fail—knock on wood—the boys have met the challenge. This year they raised $350,000 in just over a month of selling raffle tickets. They never cease to amaze me! You can’t go to STH and not believe in miracles.

Anyway, after Anna’s nap it is customary for her to have a little bit of tv time. Over the course of the last year and a half, I have watched and re-watched countless children’s films and shows. Some are entertaining, others are palatable, and a few are beat-you-over-the-head bad. No matter what the quality of the programming, after viewing it for the umpteenth time everything becomes stale and hackneyed. Every show without fail wears out its welcome.

The Stuff of Life

The last couple of weeks have been by turns irritable and joyous, chaotic and orderly, grumpy and patient, noisy and calm; heck, this list could go on and on ad nauseam, so I’ll spare you the litany. It’s all reducible, though, to this salient fact: Children are the stuff of life. I say fact because anyone who is a parent can attest to this self-evident proposition. It is frankly undeniable and to do so would be a travesty, even a tragedy, of the first order. I can no longer conceive of a life apart from my wife and little angels, nor would I wish to do so.

Hello, flowers. Hello, ducks.

Anna and I have been enjoying some quality father-daughter bonding time over the last week. I figure that, aside from doing most of the daily chores around the house, this is probably the best way for me to help out on the home front while Jennifer tends to little Sara’s needs. Besides, Anna seems to be exhibiting all the normal growing pains of a new family dynamic where she is not the only child demanding momma and daddy’s attention. We’ve definitely noticed a slight uptick in behavioral issues and general clinginess. This is neither surprising given the circumstances nor insurmountable with the right handling of the situation.

Taking the Weekend Off

I am taking Friday-Sunday off from the blog to assist Jennifer with Sara and Anna. I will resume blogposts on Monday. Please keep my family in your prayers as we get adjusted to a larger family. Thanks!

Sara Lynn Thompson is here!

The Thompson family grew by one member this afternoon. Sara Lynn Thompson was born at 2:56 pm at Tomball Regional Hospital. She weighs 7 lb 1 oz and is as cute as apple pie. Yes, apple pie is cute! :)

I will write more about this wonderful news soon, but I am heading back to the hospital to spend the night with Jennifer and Sara. 

Lekvar

The Christmas and Easter seasons always usher in the annual lekvar binge. Lekvar is a fruit jam used in yummy Slovak pastries. Though it can refer to a wide variety of fruits, in my family lekvar is synonymous with a prune-plum filling. This is perhaps the only significant Slovak cultural tradition that has been bequeathed to me, so I take it very seriously.

Blog Blackout, Blood Pressure Scare, Recovering Anna

New sprinklers were installed this Saturday. It was an all-day affair, but the end result is marvelous! Unfortunately, the workers inadvertently cut the cable line, so we had no Internet access over the weekend and won’t until sometime this afternoon when the cable guy repairs it. I apologize for the blog blackout that resulted as a consequence of this mistake. I had been planning to write Saturday’s post on my recent graphic novel kick and Sunday’s post on the curious occurrence of the Feast of the Annunciation and Palm Sunday falling in the same week. I’ll have to take a rain check on those posts.

In Sickness and In Health

Anna isn’t feeling well. She has had a low grade fever, a stuffy nose, a persistent cough, and even a mild diaper rash the last few days. The poor thing just cannot seem to catch a break. I hope she feels better soon. :(

Sometimes I don’t know who seems to be in worse shape, though, the sickly child or the worried mother. Fortunately, Jennifer has stayed healthy despite her stress and anxiety over Anna’s physical discomfort. She has her final ultrasound tomorrow to make sure that everything is tracking well with baby #2. We are both getting very excited to meet Sara Lynn!

New Blog Schedule

I am going to experiment with a set routine for the blog. I’ll give it two weeks and then reevaluate. Here’s the proposed schedule: 

• Sunday- Meditation on Mass Readings 
• Monday- Family Updates 
• Tuesday- Teaching Reflection (Speech) 
• Wednesday- Teaching Reflection (English 1) 
• Thursday- Teaching Reflection (AP English 4) 
• Friday- Commentary on Catholic News Item of the Week  
• Saturday- Book, Film, or Television Review 
• Sunday- Meditation on Mass Readings

I know that I listed Sunday twice, but that is done deliberately to emphasize the alpha-omega nature of God’s role in my life. I really do understand Sunday as both the true beginning and the proper end to my week. I hope you do, too.

Embarrassing Moment of Spring Break

This morning I finished restoring the garage to its former glory. It has been my pet project over Spring Break. It is finally in full working order with everything neatly organized and the floor well swept. It will be the first time in probably -- well, ever-- that we can park both cars in the garage if we so desire. It is certainly the first time in recent memory that there isn’t dirt or fertilizer, or God knows what else, all over the floor. I am proud to report that the garage is no longer a no-go zone. At this, my finest moment, I unwisely decided to do some minor touch-up painting on the pillars on our porch. It all went downhill from there.

Front Lawn Frustration

I have a love-hate relationship with our front lawn. On the one hand, I love the fact that we have such a huge front lawn on our corner lot. Contrary to what my wife may think, I like mowing the lawn and doing yard work, and I steadfastly refuse to pay someone to landscape our yard. It goes against a basic rule of homeownership, owning your home. That may seem pretty basic, but I think owning a home means investing your time, talent, and treasure on personally beautifying your home and making it not only livable, but an enjoyable place to reside. A husband and wife should do this together; they should not delegate it to some random joe blow who doesn’t give two flips about your home, and is just in it to make a buck. Not that I have anything against making a buck. To a landscaper, though, it’s just a house, while to you, it’s a home. Big difference.

Open Door Mission

It has become something of a tradition at St. Thomas for a speaker to deliver a rather sobering address to the upperclassmen on the eve of Spring Break, presumably to dispel any Bacchanalian plans from the boys’ minds. This year’s speaker, David, is a recovering drug addict and felon from the Open Door Mission. The organization’s web site describes the institution as “a faith-based recovery and rehabilitation shelter dedicated to transforming the lives of the addicted, destitute, homeless or disabled.” A teary-eyed David offered a cathartic recounting of his life’s many missed opportunities, terrible missteps, and frequent misfires.

Teams Of Our Lady

Teams Of Our Lady is an international association of the faithful that promotes a spirituality for married couples. The movement began in France in the late 1930s under the direction of Father Henri Caffarel who devised the system (Ѐquipes Notre Dame) as a means of assisting married parishioners in their call to holiness. In 1947, the movement received a charter from the Vatican, and in 1992, the Pontifical Council for the Laity formally recognized the group as an international association of the faithful of Pontifical right. In the U.S., the group has come to be known as Teams of Our Lady, or T.O.O.L. Jennifer and I, along with six other couples in the Tomball area, formed a new team last fall.

Sisyphus and Toys

The existential philosopher Albert Camus wrote a philosophical essay entitled The Myth of Sisyphus on the absurdity of life in a meaningless world. He saw in the mythological account of Sisyphus a wonderful metaphor for the human condition in modernity. Sisyphus defies the gods with his cleverness and even succeeds in staving off death for himself and the rest of humanity for a time by tricking Thanatos and Zeus. Like Prometheus before him, however, Sisyphus’s empathy for man and duplicity toward the gods finally catches up to him in the form of a torturous eternal punishment. Sisyphus is doomed to push a boulder up a steep incline only to see it tumble right back down as he nears the crest of the hill, and so he must labor over and over again to achieve the impossible. However, I am not really interested in Sisyphus as some existential role model, and I have no intention of meditating upon him in this light.

Naming Baby #2: Sara or Sarah

Bestowing a name is a very important decision. In fact, the giving of a name reminds us that we are co-creators with God, not just in bringing the child into the world, but in directing his or her path. Consider this. One of the defining characteristics of both creation accounts is the act of naming. God speaks the universe into existence in Genesis 1, and in so doing, his omnipotent utterance bequeaths a name to each aspect of creation. Similarly, in the Garden of Eden, one of the principal duties with which God entrusts man is the naming of the rest of the created order. Needless to say, Jennifer and I take this responsibility very seriously.