Behold the awesomeosity of the spik&mic combos that sprung forth from my loins. These two Napiers, descendants of the great people of County Cork, are "Little Swift One who is like God" and "Little Fiery Sword of God".

And yes, in the grand tradition of ex-Catholic atheists, we have given names to our children that any anti-pedophilic priest would love.

Let The Irish know they don't have to thank me for embettering their gene pool with some lovely lads who can tan. My giving birth to them is my way of saying, "you're welcome", to the great land of Éire

Dear Elizabeth,

I know I am overstepping boundaries here, but Amy Benfer over at Salon.com's Broadsheet wrote Elizabeth Edwards: Divorce, finally? and it upset me so much I have the need to respond not to her but to you. You see ... I am not only the daughter of a serial philanderer but am also going through the very real separation anxieties that can only be normal after a marriage of 20 years has died.

When I read Amy's post I wanted to smack her. It really irritates me to no end to see women go after other women for not living up to the stereotypical faux-feminist bullshit of divorcing at the drop of a hat. These kids (and yes I calling Ms. Benfer a kid), don't know what it is to spend 20, 30 years of your life with the person you thought to be the love of your life.

These 20 and 30 somethings can't understand how difficult it is to just pick and leave the life that you've spent more than a lifetime building around the idea of an "Us" or an "Our Family". They don't understand the sacrifices that come with building not just a marriage or a family but a life with that other person we took for our soul mates. And they certainly don't have any idea how much more difficult it is when children are involved --even if many of them are children of divorces.

A lot of these kids only know what they're parents wanted them to know about their easy or messy divorces and have no conception whatsoever of the very real and material hardship people have to go through in order to sort out settlements, child support and the paths of a life without each other.

The circumstances of my impeding divorce are far different than yours. I take solace there were no third parties in the demise of my marriage and yet the pain ... the pain is still very real. Because I don't know about you, but I didn't get married thinking I'd ever divorce. What is it with people who don't get that? Is it a generational thing? It is a cultural thing? In my book there was never a "I'll get married and if doesn't work out I'll get divorced". What is it that makes people think divorce is as easy as changing PO Boxes?

I don't know where my life is going after all the impending legal drama of the coming months, but I actually happened to have witnessed recently some good and messy divorces --of women in our age groups. All I can say is that even though am scared, by what I've witnessed I have to remind myself there's light at the other end of the tunnel. And am really tired of being inside this tunnel, feeling lost and trapped.

I know it is not easy but I know it is not the end of the world and I wanted to share that with you. To let you know there's this "us out here" going through similar separation anxieties and that we're not judging you or looking down on you. We're rooting for you babe.

 more this way»

I didn't grow up listening to "The Mammas & The Pappas". They were hippie music, as my dad liked to say, and in our house we only listened to salsa, mambo, soul, jazz, R&B. Basically anything but hippie music. Yet I've always had a thing for gossip rags and when I was a kid in Puerto Rico the face of McKenzie Phillips was almost tattoed to the front cover of National Enquirer and People Magazine. I marginally knew she was the daughter of a musician (John Phillips of "that hippie band") and I knew she did some TV but since we didn't get that sitcom dubbed in Puerto Rico, the merits of McKenzie's stardom seems to have rested on which teen heart-throb she dated and what drugs they'd share each night.

Well ... holy crap on a stick.

McKenzie has a book coming out where she describes in what seems as graphic in detail as the memory of a heroin addict allows, how her father not only was the one to inject her with heroin for the first time, but did so he could rape her during on of her blackouts and basically keep her as a sex-slave for over 10 years. Not only that, the woman's for sure a survivor but doesn't seen to have dealt with the fact that her father did indeed rape her and keep her as drug-adled sex slave for 10 years. And if anybody thinks this is kooky, her sister Chynna Phillips has come out supporting McKenzie in her claims:
 more this way»

Thing2 - Mommy, why do you look nice today?

me - Why do you ask?? Do i have to look shit all the time?

Thing 1 and Thing 2 (in unison while laughing) YES!

me - Fuck you.

Thing1 - ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Good one, mom.

Thing2 - ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! No, really, why do you look so nice today?

I am not making this up: These are the nicknames we gave our kids when they were babies. Guess who's the spawn and who's the beast:

'Tis what I call ... ahem ...mommyblogging. Heh.

PS : You know these kids are Sabater just by looking at their eyes. Everybody in the Sabater branch of my family have those big almond-shaped dark brown eyes.