"Bittersweet October. The mellow, messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause between the opposing miseries of summer and winter."

{Carol Bishop Hipps}

Lois E. Lane = Aspiring A-political

I don't want to start a political commenting war; I genuinely just want to ask people's honest opinions. Does first thing = first priority?

Really, Matt? You NEED to know?

Check out this clip. Damon obviously has some strong opinions about Sarah Palin and isn't afraid to voice them -- that's all well and good. But listen to the end of his comments. They're so convoluted and non-sequiter it makes me want to laugh. Or is it cry? Or is it cry from laughing so hard? Either way, he sounds ridiculous in the truest sense of the word.

Four years ago right now

I sat in a warm apartment having my hair done by Superman's very accommodating cousin, looking out a huge sliding glass door at one of the best views in the city. I was calm and happy. All the night-before worries and last-minute stresses had dissolved into my tears when I went to bed. This is what it had all come to -- not just six months of planning and anticipating, but more than 20 years of dreaming about and praying for the man I would marry. It wasn't a perfect day by any means, at least not technically so. Flowers were forgotten, pastries were pillaged. But the glow of love from family and friends created its own brand of perfection. And, of course, the perfectly wonderful man that danced with me four years ago tonight.

Of course I care...

...but arguably not enough to actually vote next month. My high school government teacher would just as soon flunk me for that -- good thing he's not my teacher any more. I do, however, believe in praying for God's wisdom in the mind of whomever our leader is, because He ultimately "picks" him or her anyway. I just don't think I have the energy or heart for enough intelligent research to back up a vote of confidence.

"How small, of all that human hearts endure,
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure."

~ Samuel Johnson


Don't let anyone tell you there's anything sweeter or cuter than baby kisses, because there isn't.

My son is already an excellent kisser (I'm sure he'll love to hear that declaration replayed when he's in junior high). He figured out very early what kisses were and how to get more: Open your mouth and throw your head back.

I'd always been told about the intensity of affection mothers feel for their children, but it's so much better experienced than told about -- not unlike a U2 concert or Double-Stuff Oreos. Anyway, even more than the kisses and coos, what gets to me is the eye contact. My Special K looks at me in a way no one ever has before. It's overwhelming. I hesitate to use the word "romantic," but it's in the same ballpark.

In fact, I often marvel at some of parallels between falling in love with your mate and falling in love with your baby. As with your mate when you've only known each other for a short while, there's this sort of infatuation you feel with your child and you can't get enough of him. You hang on every sound and live for every smile. And you want to document every moment in your diary so it's never forgotten. Sigh.

I'll leave you with the lyrics to a song by the artist Plumb, who captures the heart of young motherhood strikingly well on her album "Blink." This is "My Sweet, My Lovely."

I tiptoe
Hush hush...
Pitter pat
Goes my heart...
Your beauty
Your innocence

Joy is found
With every kiss

My sweet, my lovely
My sweet, my lovely
So sweet, so lovely
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
Close your eyes

I stare into
The bluest eyes
Time stands still in
Your smile
You weren't there
And now you're here

I dreamed of you
But I never know how...sweet and lovely

My sweet, my lovely
So sweet, so lovely
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
Close your eyes
Close your eyes