Review: "All the Better to Kiss You With" Organic Lip Balm

I know you thought that I was done talking about my pregnancy and blah blah blah the baby's here, Kendra, your ankles aren't swollen anymore, but evidently your brain is because you keep blah blah talking about your pregnancy. However, this lip balm review just absolutely necessitates that I hearken back to my third trimester when I was compelled to buy everything, go everywhere, and see everyone like I was giving my Last Lecture. Heather B. Armstrong endorsed this lip balm and before she could even say chai flavor sweetness for our lips, I was clicking my paypal SEND CASH NOW to the makers of Organic Lip Balm. And wouldn't you know that it arrived while the baby bundle was being born! It was so nice because when I arrived home from the hospital, there was this clever little envelope with a pack o' 3 lip balm containers which sort of reminded me of the mini Altoid compacts, except with a sliding lid. I saved one for Lovey Loverpants' valentine, and I did give it to him, but I eventually reclaimed it because he said the packaging was too pansy for him to carry in public. I also sent one to CBear who is now in her third trimester YAHOO and the significance of all of this is that I got so mad parched during my c-section that I actually asked the surgeon if she could get me some lip balm. I know you're thinking, Good one, Kendra, go all Napoleon Dynamite when you're about to meet your child for the first time, but I was a bit delirious due to the gallons of anesthesia chugging through my bloodstream, and my LIPS HURT REAL BAD. Wish I could've glossed some of this smoooove organicness on my lips. The flavors are delicious and while I wouldn't say the stuff is exceptionally long-lasting, it's nice to know that it's made from ingredients you can pronounce, by a real nice little indie operation.

Review: Bridge to Terabithia

Say what you will about Catholic schoolin' and the limited scope of education you get with a religio-curriculum, I maintain that I read some mad good books back in the days of plaid unis. To Kill a Mockingbird, The Chosen, Anna Karenina all stand out as favorites. However, one I missed was Bridge to Terabithia. My girlhood as an avid Disney Channel couch potato afforded me the chance to see the made-for-telly movie. So I remember how the story ends. But a mate who works in publishing and I were waxing poetic about some of the edgier young adult novels we had read, including I Am the Cheese (which my mate said was Thee Book that made her want to go into publishing because it caused her to realize that books could be both written for youth and positively "insane!"). She recommended Bridge to Terabithia because, she said, it has a rare poignancy, and it is perfectly written in parts, and I certainly agree. The voices are amazing. I don't know how Patterson contrasts Appalachia with Inside-the-Beltway DC dialect and makes it somehow comprehensible for a young reader, but she does. And she gets inside the head of a fifth grade boy. Did you ever think to care that what might be rattling around in the head of a fifth grade boy? That it might be something other than spitballs and making his pee arc higher than the guy at the urinal next to him? I'm not sure I did. And I have a little brother. This is a beautiful book and I read most of it with the wee one sleeping on my lap. Maybe she could experience the brilliance by osmosis. Or whatever. I hope to add it to her library at some point. Until then, I will just have to teach her how to make her own little magical Terabithia and reign in it as queen....

Review: The Wounded Healer

Any Henri Nouwen fans in the house? Just wondering. I just finished The Wounded Healer, and I just know I'll be passing it along. Not this particular copy, of course. It belongs to Lovey Loverpants. And that would be impolite. Paying it forward when I didn't pay for it in the beginning.

Nouwen's books are generally quite short and the language is very plain, but the message is always deeply profound. Like if Dr. Seuss became a Jesuit and wrote for adults.

My first encounter with Nouwen changed my life. I know that sounds like a canned reaction from an Oprah Book Club audience member, but let me take you back. Just a month or so into my first semester of college, I attended a weekend conference where one of the books being sold was The Return of the Prodigal Son. I took that book home and spent nearly all of my holiday break poring over it. The way that Nouwen unravels the parable is so basic and beautiful. I took a long look at my life's relationships and particularly at my family's. As I began to understand the parable, I could actually feel the glacier moving in my heart to let new love flow in where there had previously only been an impasse. I have gone back many, many times to read this book and I recommend it often.

I was stunned, then, when Lovey Loverpants brought up Nouwen this past spring when he was thinking of a book to give a departing intern. One of his co-workers, Doc Martin, had recommended The Wounded Healer. I was further stunned to hear of this recommendation, given that Doc Martin is who he is: the Cuba-loving, conspiracy theorizing, Jewish shrink with a passel of jokes about Mainers. But after reading the book, I now understand why anyone in the social services field would find this book to be a prize, even if ministry is viewed here through a Christian lens.

Nouwen addresses the oft-asked Who's healing the healer? Who listens to the listener? Who cares for those in the business of caring for others? Doctors, social workers, ministers -- their jobs can be so lonely when it seems that no one is asking them, So, how are you?

Nouwen offers this - in this life, we can be empowered by our loneliness, because it can put us in touch with the suffering of others. Sounds perfectly pleasant, right?

Like everyone, I've had my bouts of loneliness, and I can't deny that some days at home with Baby Girl do get a tad isolating. But I remember a time the year when I bought The Return of the Prodigal Son when the loneliness felt interminable. Like everyday was Christmas and everyone else had a family with whom to celebrate, besides myself. The next year, though, I became an RA and I think I was a good RA because I had experienced the loneliness that my residents would manifest time and time again.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who works in direct service to people or, in my case, if you sometimes find people absolutely exhausting (see also: the exhaustion of living with yourself). Nouwen's insights are rich and unforgettable.