Friday Fun Facts: Mr. Rogers

Wednesday’s post was a bit of a downer.  So I’m going try to lighten it up with a fun fact.

And then I sat at my desk for 30 minutes trying to think of an actual fun fact.

So of course, I googled “Fun Facts” and looked at the images.

Mr. Rogers popped up.  So I started reading Fun Facts about Mr. Rogers.

He loved the number 143.   He said it stood for 1 letter for “I”, 4 letters in “love”, and 3 letters in “you.”  He also weighed 143 pounds for most of his adult life.

Now if that isn’t a fun fact, I don’t know what is.

Have a good day, neighbor.



When I’m feeling overwhelmed with life, I look at my vision board that I created in January or at the file on my computer called “Inspire or Funny” that has pictures/memes that I find on the interwebs.

Here is a picture I needed today.  you can do it

Starting On My Spiritual Journey

Changing religions is not something I took lightly.  To be honest, it took over a decade, I just didn’t realize it.

I grew up Irish Catholic, which, until I was a teenager, I didn’t realize was the same  as Roman Catholic.  Being Irish and Catholic is a cultural identity.  You celebrated baptisms, 1st Communions, and death.   You went to CCD (catechism) every week.  When we visited ‘back home’, there were pictures of the current Pope, JFK, and Jesus up in houses of every single family we visited for the cuppa tea.

At CCD, I would get in trouble because I always would ask Why?  The answers were usually “because it is” and “you just have to have faith” were the ones I remember.   But I had more questions and the answers never satisfied me.

Years later in college, I took some anthropology classes and I was learning about the Mayan religion.  In the Popol Vuh, they tell the story of creation.  It took four times to get it right, with the last time the Mayan people were created from maize.

I found this fascinating.  What a great story!  But what heathens, right?  The Bible teaches us we were created by God.  During the semester break, I began to question that ‘fact’.   Every civilization has a creation story.  I had read some Greek and Roman myths in high school.  But the Greeks and Romans believed what we now call myths as fact.  The Popol Vuh  was fact for ancient Mayans.  What if the Bible was christian myths?  What if there is no God?  What if everything I was brought up to believe was a lie?

My head began to spin.  I don’t think I slept for a couple of days with all these questions (and soo many more) in my head.

It terrified me to think that there wasn’t a God.   Would God be mad at me for questioning their existence?   I didn’t have answers and I didn’t have anyone to talk to about this.  My family had stopped going to church years before.  I felt silly feeling overwhelmed with these questions.

Finally, I had a start of an answer.  I believe in God.  I think God likes when you question if it exists. I don’t call God a him.  I sometimes refer to it as a her.  But mostly, I don’t think of God as male or female.  God to me is non binary.  And really, does it matter if God has a sexual identity?  (ooh, this is another good topic to have some other time)

I believe in Mother Mary, not the Virgin Mary.  Historically, she has roots from Mother Earth and fertility goddesses anyway, so I do think of her (and pray to her) as a maternal guidance figure.

I still identified myself as Catholic for over a decade after those sleepless nights.  I really didn’t know there were other liberal religions that would allow me to encourage my spiritual growth.

This is part of my story of how I am exploring my spiritual path.  I do not speak for anyone else.  This is my truth.  I respect yours.  Please respect mine as well.



So. Um. This just happened.
My 3 year old was quietly playing with his legos. I went to see what he was doing and saw this.

Me: Um. D. What’s going on here?
D: Mommy,  its a head factory.  They need new heads.
Me: Um. Uh. Um. OK.  How about you go watch Paw Patrol?

What the puck!?!?!?
I shouldn’t panic,  right?  I mean, it’s not normal.  But. But, it’s not not normal.  Right?

Oh dear.

Eat It! Or Don’t. Piggy Pie.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the U.S.

This is traditionally a day for stuffing our faces with all sorts of comfort food.  I just read a statistic that says Americans consume over 3000 calories on Thanksgiving.   That’s a lot of pie.

Don’t tell anyone, but pie is not my favorite dessert.  If it doesn’t have frosting (butter-cream, not that cream cheese or whipped cream bullshit)  I’m not a fan.

Despite my lack of love for pie, I am OK at making the traditional Thanksgiving pies.  Pie filling is actually super easy to do.  OK, it’s only easy because you mostly open up some cans and pour that into a pie crust.

Pie crust is something that I will never, ever, ever try to make from scratch.  You remember my bread disaster?

My father in law requested cherry pie for tomorrow so I decided to give that a try.  My plan was to use one of those pie crusts that you can just unroll and place on top of the filling.  Like this.

My ideal cherry pie (image from the google search)

My ideal cherry pie
(image from the google search)

When I tried to unroll the pie crust, it started to come off in chunks.

What to do?  What to do?

I ended up using the pig cookie cutter I had and placed those little guys on top of the cherries.  Then I egg washed them and placed cinnamon and sugar on top.   Not to brag, but. I think the pie came out looking pretty good.

Piggy Pie

I’m calling it Piggy Pie, in honor of how much we will be pigging out.

I hope it tastes alright.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Keeps Me On My Toes

Friday was one of those weird days where D (the three year old) did and said things that kept me on my toes.

It started when he came down the stairs in the morning telling me he was mad at me.

“Why, baby?”

“Because you turned me blue.”

He woke up angry at me for turning him blue in his dream.  In his dream, people. His dream!

“Oh, well, I’m sorry about that.  Wasn’t it great being like a smurf?”

“No, MOMMY!”

Um, ok.  At least he knows his colors.  I could have turned him polka dot.

A few hours past and I was watching a show where someone got a statue of a poodle.

“Look, Mommy.  It’s a moose.”

“No, kiddo.  It’s a poodle.”  This one actually made me giggle for a while.  Also, it reminded me that we need to go to the zoo again, soon.

A little later, this needed to happen.


It was too quite.  D had gone to the bathroom and I was really hoping that he was going in there to try to go, you know?  He still refuses to potty train.

Nope.  He had the Wookie, aka Rookie, in the cat box walking in the litter.    At least it was a part of the box that hadn’t been used, yet.

I washed the guy in serious cleaner and then rinsed in super hot water.

Being a Mom is never dull, that’s for sure.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.