Sorry for the bloggy silence lately! Lots of writing deadlines coming up (if you could spare a prayer I do a good job, I’d appreciate it very much!), plus birthday parties, doctor appointments, potty training, and July 4th (which we’re having at our house, and which is bringing out the Marney in me).

Maybe you’re wondering where I was on Monday, during my radio spot with Mark Shea. Well, I was lying down, because I forgot it was Monday. Sorry. It wasn’t because I didn’t feel like talking about gay marriage, honest! But I wasn’t heartbroken that I missed that opportunity, either. Anyway, you can hear podcasts of Mark’s shows here. He has four other co-hosts, and they’re so fancy, they know what day it is.

Speaking of radio, Jennifer Fulwiler was kind enough to invite me back on her Sirius XM radio show for a segment tomorrow (Thursday the 2nd) sometime around 2:15 eastern. (You can find podcasts of Jen’s show here, including the show where I explained how the Church is like a TARDIS.)

Oh, you want to hear more about potty training? Sure, fine. All you have to do is wait until your kid is 3-1/2 and hanging obscenely out of her size 6 diapers.

Then you spend six weeks loudly moaning and groaning about how disgusting diapers are. This does not require acting lessons.

Then you wait until your teenager daughter goes on summer vacation, wave $20 in front of her face, and arm her with a pack of My Little Pony panties, three pounds of assorted bribe candy, a new potty shaped like a pink ladybug, and a giant “surprise present” (fittingly, a water table) to be earned as a grand prize for when the kid not only uses the potty regularly, but stops bursting into tears when we insist that she dump it out herself. It took maybe a week, but miss soggy bottom is all potty trained now, and I didn’t have to clean up any puddles of anything. Ta dah!

The general rule for potty training is: you can potty train them when they’re ready, or you can potty train them until they’re ready, but either way, it won’t happen until they’re ready. (In our case, Benny was ready, but she didn’t know she was ready; hence the disparaging remarks and the candy.)

Well, bye! And remember, as a married woman you are now required to contribute on an adult level. And bring a serving spoon, not a soup spoon. A serving spoon!