So there I was, perking along in writerly fashion when — wham! — mononucleosis cut me down at the knees. I spent most of April in bed, but it appears I am now on the mend. For the mercifully uninitiated, mono is caused by the Epstein-Barr virus, which attacks the liver, spleen, and respiratory system. Mono commonly hits people between the ages of 15 and 25. Most people over 35 have been exposed and are therefore immune to the virus. I guess that makes me special.

The first signs of mono are a wicked sore throat, glands the size of golf balls, and utter exhaustion. And when I say exhaustion, I don’t mean tired. I mean feeling-like-roadkill-that’s-still-breathing. For the first week, I was able only to sleep or lie in bed, eyes open and panting, like one of those animals in a documentary that gets shot with a dart.

A person can learn a lot from having mono. I have learned:

• That my husband is a wonderful nurse. I am telling you, from the time my lab tests came back, I didn’t lift a finger. My husband and sons took over everything.
• That I have ace blogging colleagues. They have cheerfully picked up my slack without a single complaint.
• That I have wonderfully compassionate editors who have allowed me all the time and space I need for recovery. (The only pressure I feel is from my Type A self!)

I have also learned a new unit of measurement — the “frasier.” A frasier is equal to 22 minutes, which is the amount of time it takes to watch one DVR’d rerun of Frasier, my favorite TV show, if I fast-forward through all the commercials. You see, when you have mono, your body counts everything as “work.” Taking a shower, reading, getting dressed, even talking on the phone. After expending any energy at all, I had to rest. Often, I measured this rest in frasiers: “After I take a shower, I’ll rest for two frasiers.” (44 minutes.) “In three frasiers, I’ll go nuke a Lean Cuisine.”

See? Marking time without watching the clock. Very convenient.

Though I’m definitely improving, I’m not yet back up to full speed and so I still won’t be blogging for awhile. But I know many of you have been wondering what was ailing me, so I wanted to check in and tell you it’s not terminal, and also to say “thank you!” for your prayers.

So Jacob (ace speller boy) and I were watching American Idol last Tuesday night when a commercial for Tylenol aired. Various close-ups showed the body parts of older people — a weathered elbow, a flexed back, an eye squeezed shut in apparent pain. When the eye shot appeared on the screen in a cascade of wrinkles, Jacob exclaimed, “Ew!”

This drew my gentle rebuke: “Jacob,” I said, “Mema has lots of wrinkles on her face, and you don’t say ‘ew!’ about her.”

The backstory on this is that Jacob, 13, is just crazy about his great-grandmother, Millie, a short, round Southern lady of 85. We all call her “Mema,” which is pronounced “Meemaw.”

To my rebuke Jacob replied, “Well, I don’t say ‘ew’ about Mema because Mema is the best thing since sliced bread!”

Then he rethought his statement and after a half-beat pause added, “But she’s been around so long that I should have said, ‘Sliced bread is the best thing since Mema!’”

Of course, I immediately called Mema who got a great big chuckle out of that and declared Jacob “a stinker.”

What do the kids in your family say about their relatives?

Good morning!

Today’s quote is from an American author and all-around wag: “It’s spring fever … and when you’ve got it, you want — oh, you don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!”

Summer vacation is screaming up the calendar and with it, here come the dreaded “Reading Nazis.”

That term would refer to my husband and I. You see, every school vacation — but especially summer vacation — since our boys were nine years old, we have (gasp!) forced them to read. We chose the age of nine because my own stepfather chose the age of nine at which to begin making me read. (As I’ve mentioned here before, he started me off with Darwin’s Origin of Species.)

At nine, our boys had to read for 30 minutes a day and you shoulda heard the howling. Each year we kicked it up a notch, topping out at an hour a day. They still howl, but we (and the rules) have remained pretty steadfast through the years: They can read any age-appropriate book they want to as long as:

1) The book was not a television show or movie before it was a book.

2) The book is not a graphic novel (aka comic book.)

Our older son (17) has no trouble picking out books. But our youngest (13) struggles to find something he likes. So this year, I’d like to compile a list of suggestions. What are your summer reading suggestions for our smart, rough-and-tumble almost-freshman?

Okay, here’s a really fun question that my dh came up with last night: If time-travel were possible and money no object, what musical group, composer, or artist — from any era — would you go see at work or in concert?

On Saturdays, we consider a passage of Scripture:

The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:28-31

Happy Saturday! 

Today’s quote is from a pastor and author: “We are all faced with a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.”

In the Wall Street Journal today, Boston University professor Donna Freitas reveals the surprising attitudes of many college students toward sex, romance, and dating. For one thing, many describe their own experience with the “hookup” culture using words like “dirty” and “empty.” For another, many yearn for old-fashioned ways of dating that include flowers and perhaps a chaste kiss goodnight:

After conducting a national college survey of over 2,500 students, I found that among those who reported “hooking up” — a range of sexually intimate acts, from kissing to intercourse, that occur outside a committed relationship — at Catholic and nonreligious private and public colleges and universities, 41% are profoundly upset about their behavior…

When last semester I taught Wendy Shalit’s “A Return to Modesty,” in a class at Boston University…I assumed that my mostly left-leaning students would reject her arguments about the terrible effects that the hook-up culture has on young women and the positive effects of traditional religion and morality on young women’s well-being. Instead, my students ate up her critique and were fascinated by her descriptions of modesty as a virtue, especially within the context of faith.

Freitas had more encouraging news about students’ receptivity to traditional views on sex and dating — but also sobering news for parents on the powerful “pimps and ho’s” ethos that dominates many college campuses today. What can be done to turn that tide? How will you counsel your kids?

HT: Harris

Here it is, Rants! & Raves!, your weekly chance to sound off about the week past. Remember the rules:

 1. A Rave! is something that happened during the past week that you’re pleased about and is signified by the word “Rave!” and/or an appropriately peppy emoticon.

2 A Rant! is something that happened during the past week that you’re ticked about and is signified by the word “Rant!” and/or an appropriately grumpy emoticon.

3. You may Rant! about something a person said, did or wrote, but you may not Rant! about generally disliking a person.

Have fun!

Good morning!

Today’s quote is from a film: “You can get further with a kind word and a gun than you can with just a kind word.”