We'll Always Have Coffee

Husby and I were watching Bones last night, and if you watch the show you'll know that the the lady-forensic doctor 'Bones' and her FBI partner 'Booth' (me likes Booth) have sort of an affectionate undercurrent thing going on. Because that's what makes the show interesting.

The two of them were discussing whether they would see one another anymore if all murders ended. And they proposed that they would like to still have coffee with one another. And it was very sweet. And initimate. And that's how I feel with Husby sometimes. Like maybe we should be very grateful for the seconds, perhaps minutes, of intimacy shared even over coffee at 5:45am. We agreed that we will always have coffee, and we treasure the moment.

In other news, we are very excited to be heading out of the dry desert 115 degree heat for summer vacation. I grew up in the South, and vacation consisted of either visiting grandparents' homes (and doing their summer rituals including canning produce, cooking in the basement where it's cooler, working in the vegetable garden, collecting honey from the bee hives); or going to the Beach. We went to Hilton Head (when we lived in Georgia) and the Gulf (when we lived in Alabama). Every summer. Sometimes more than one trip.

My husband is a good Wisconsin boy, so his summers included bug bites, tube socks and playing in neighboring creeks. His family owns land in a small town in central Wisconsin, so that's where we go for summer. Sometimes I miss the beach of my childhood, and I regret that I have not so far shared the ritual with my three babies. But we have (free) access to the land in Wisconsin. We tube the Pine River, we walk up to the "cafe" at the corner of Highway A and Highway W for local flavor. We cook. We go to Fish Fry (please, please educate yourself on a Fish Fry....it's so hilariously culturally Midwestern/ Wi-SCAN-sonian...I had never heard of such a thing until I met Husby, and among those folks it's as common and normal as going out for pizza...they even compare 'who has a good Fish Fry'). We pick berries, bring carrots to the neighbor's horses (they -- the neighbors that is -- don't speak much, being good Midwesterners), nap in the tree house, amble off to the Covered Bridge, listen to the rain fall, build campfires, singing, laughing, and drinking brandy manhattans all night. We visit Fleet Farm, marveling that we could acquire a fishing license, a aluminum retractable awning, and Farm Life udder antibiotics under one roof. We could walk into any Wisconsin McDonald's and order 'two brat', but the fact is we'll ony walk into Culver's for our fast food fix. Even my food-snob clean-freak mother LOVES her some Culver's, which she encountered when she and Dad visited the Wisconsin land with us one summer.

I leave you with a link to more about small-town life in the great state of Wisconsin, with credit to its webmaster:
http://www.bratwurstpages.com/smalltown.html

and a view of what I'll be seeing for the next few weeks:

A to Z

Oh, sorry for my bad temper in the last week. Or so. Obviously, Papa and I talked a bit. And it's better. A bit. Smoothed over.

Enough about that. It's Friday. I am taking the kids to the pool this morning and for lunch. Laundry is being completed. The children have a sitter, and we have dinner plans tonight with an interesting couple (he's Dutch, she's Brazilian) who live in a very cool area of this town. And I have a new cute top to wear, and a new sparkly bracelet from The Mothership aka J. Crew.

Onward!

I read this meme on other blogs, and awayyyy we go:

A. Attached or Single? Attached
B. Best Friend? Chrissy. The bestest. The smartest and most real person I know. And I adore her awesome family.
C. Cake or pie? Mmmmm.....cake. But only perfect, good homemade cake, and not too much sugar, esp in the frosting. Blergh.
D. Day of choice? Friday. So much promise.
E. Essential item? uhhh, toothpaste? I've learned to live without quite a lot.
F. Favorite color? Green. And yellow. And soft blues and coral.
G. Gummy bears or worms? Neither. See 'sugar'. Eck.
H. Home town? Atlanta
I. Favorite indulgence? Pizza. Cookies with nuts.
J. January or July? Hmmm, January in the Southwest is LUHV-EH-LYYY.
K. Kids? Oh, yes.
L. Life isn't complete without? Your relationships, and the ones you love. Including yourself.
M.. Marriage date? April 24
N. Number of brothers and sisters? Two little brothers.
O. Oranges or Apples? Love them both.
P. Phobias? Ohhhh, so many. Flying's right up there.
Q. Quotes? Mmmm, am I quotable?
R. Reasons to smile? My family of course. My new furniture from the brilliant and lovely Kellogg Collection, my 6 year old son swimming the length of the pool, my baby's tummy, my other son's great affection and charisma and furry head of blond hair.
S. Season? Spring because everything is new and warm. Summer because we don't have as many commitments and we can be lazier. Fall because the air is crisp. Winter because I get things accomplished...especially after Christmas is done.
T. Tag 5 people: I don't do that.
U. Unknown fact about me? I was an Azalea Trail Maid. I swear. I was yellow, and I have to say it was a perfect color for me.
V. Vegetable? I love vegetables. My boys even eat kale.
W. Worst habit? Letting my temper get the better of me.
X. Xray or Ultrasound? U-sound. Less radiation, right?
Y. Your favorite food? Ohhhh, I can't even begin. Anything beautifully grown, thoughtfully and carefully prepared. My grandmother's cooking.
Z. Zodiac sign? Virgo. I am ever so Virgo.

Have a great weekend.

M.M. Hearts C.R.

I love you, Charlie Rose. I love you because you're sincere, interested, interesting, conscientious, and you try really really hard. You care. You have a work ethic, clearly. I love that when I watch you on my local PBS station, like now, I am sipping green tea and each and every one of my children is in a bed, napping or reading quietly.

It's so....focused and all adult around here.

We went swimming and ate lunch at the pool this morning. They're all dry and warm and cozy in their beds now. They had to clean up their playroom before rest. So, not only am I enjoying the green tea and Mr. Rose, I am enjoying his show in the calm of an ordered living space. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!. He's interviewing Big Brown pre-Belmont because apparently we get a lame delay out here in the Southwest....so....it's all sort of boring and overrated at this point.

By the way, those owners of Big Brown? Schiesty. Shifty. That young lady who was all front and center after the horse's Kentucky Derby win, in her black dress, chomping and smacking her gum, thinking she just the cutest hottest little thing ever? Oh honey. No. Spit out that gum, close your mouth, and focus on the person who is speaking to the camera.

Anyway....

I went shopping yesterday. I spent an monthly summer electric bill at J. Crew. But this two-piece? Adorable. I love it. And by some miracle I don't look terrible in it. Yay, I wore it, in navy, today with the three kiddies in tow at the pool. Loved it. Still looked good on the way home. That, darlings, is as successful as bathing suit shopping gets.

Who Am I?

Love this post. Here goes....

So me:

So not me:

So me:

SOOO not me:

So me:

So not me:

So me:

So not me:

So me:

So not me:

So me:

So not me!

Above all, to thine own self be true. That's what I love best; that is "SO ME". People who know who they are, what they prefer, and live authentically. Even if, yes all right, if they love those furry weird modern chairs.

Summertime.....and the Living Is Easy

Summer Is Here. Ahhhhh.......we hang around in our PJs, we accomplish the little things, the gas tank is still full, we swim, we lie in the sun drying off and warming up like lizards. The early days of summer are proof that dreams come true.

It has to be said on this blog, that God is good. I rarely pray for specifics. I try to be mature (sigh) in my prayers. Thankful. Trusting. I pray for wisdom and strength. I pray for protection for my family. I pray for peace in their hearts. But I prayed so hard and so true to God for our sweet baby when she was enduring the rash of unknown cause. I specifically asked God, word by word, for her not to have a dreaded infection, for it not to be MRSA, which every symptom was pointing toward. I prayed the way Father Hesburgh at Notre Dame taught us: "Come, Holy Spirit", because that prayer is an invitation for miracles. It truly is. And, out of absolutely nowhere, her rash disappeared. I randomly threw away our Aveda clove conditioner, which we never buy and just decided to try, which was still 1/3 full. I don't know if that was the cause, but it was inspired. And I am so deeply grateful. We are blessed. And if I don't tell that story, it's like hiding the light under the bushel.

Now, back to my regular ol' life. We have spent this summer swimming, walking the trails in the foothills around our house, at the library. I don't mind having the children around. Ha, ask me again in August. Yes, they talk non-stop, and patience wears thin throughout the day. One of my favorite things about summer is swimming, wearing ourselves out in the water and the sun, snacking on grapes or the short sweet season of cherries so ripe they pop. When my mom was little, she says she used to hang the 'double-cherry' from her ear, pretending to be Carmen Miranda.

The children and I will be spending two weeks in central Wisconsin, berry picking, playing in the rivers, fishing, walking to the covered bridge, and sleeping late(r). We're visiting Notre Dame for a long weekend. Midwest in the summer is sweet, so charming, and smells like grass and blowsy, bloomy summer flower gardens. We'll spend two more weeks in Atlanta with my family, and we'll cap off our travels in Santa Monica on the beach.

Baby Girl is still sleeping, stretching out, enjoying no one coming to grab her for the morning carpool, letting her legs and body grow. I am so thankful for the three of them, and to their guardian angels, and to all the goodness in life that keeps us whole and hopeful.

Rubble

I am here. I am...here....

In previous posts I mentioned a whirlwind of social activities being hosted by us Musing Folks. The birthday parties and wine tastings and pig roasts ( a truly wonderful cochon du lait, for all you Gulf Coasters) were fun and exciting. My favorite time was Baby Girl's Big Pig Roast. I baked her an enormous strawberry shortcake. Well, the cake part, anyway. Yes, of course, I used Bisquick! We had good friends, a bar, a smarmy bartender, the fantastic cochon.

My parents were in town, as well as Husby's mother and 96 year old grandmother. It was a very special weekend.

In the midst of all this social madness, we also have end of year and end of season parties and 'lasts'. Last t-ball game, Spring Sing-Along for preschool boy, Game Day at preschool, May Crowning, Mother's Day, last day of soccer until next Fall, and suddenly another whirlwind of Kindergarten parties, birthday and otherwise. Their 'graduation' is this week. I promise I will likely cry.

And most irksome and troublesome of all was our precious Baby Girl getting a small, weird rash on her back. She has no fever. She does not seem to even notice it. We had the rash cultured for the antibiotic resistant staph, which by the way lives on any surface anywhere, sometimes for months (I can hardly even write that....I literally did not sleep for the three days it took to get back the results). The culture came back negative for any bacteria, including MRSA. And here we are. She'll get a new little spot or two about twice per week. I am at a loss. I would love for a doctor to get to the bottom of its cause. I have been praying for her. I think I am taking her to a pediatric dermatologist next. She has seen her doc and a nurse practitioner. They think it might just go away. And it doesn't appear bacterial. And no one else has anything like it in our house.

This is K-Boy's last week of school...and then summer! I just want to hang out with my children near our house. We'll go to the pool, the library and occasionally the store. That's it. Living in this hot, hot, HOT place, the children and I will escape for almost 6 weeks this year. Of course Husby can't do something like that , but we are very much looking forward to our travels. We'll go to visit family and spending time and visiting fun places throughout the Midwest and South. As a thank-you to my in-laws for letting us live in their cabin in central Wisconsin for a couple weeks, we thought we'd go berry-picking and make them jam for their place. They entertain a lot up there, and they could use it or give it to friends as a memory of the place. I am no Yankee, but I must admit that there is something so perfect about the Midwest in the summer. We go for long walks, tube in the Pine River, read on the porch, grill, sit around the bonfire singing, talking, drinking late, late into the night.

Given my bitterness over the last 'business' trip Husby took, and the fact that another fun customer event is this summer on the beach in Southern Cal, we have decided to suck up the extra hotel room and all join him. I'll be with the kiddies for a good part of it, and I am really looking forward to being on the Pacific. My two boys will love it. I would consider the great and powerful Disneyland with them -- even on my own on a day Husby has meetings with customers -- but the challenge is the 3 year old wants to ride EVERYTHING and the 6 year old is more cautious. Anything can change in a couple months, so we'll play that one by ear as we get closer. As it is, my best friend and her family live in LA so we'll certainly see them, catch up a bit, and hopefully hit their fave Mexican place, Carmen's, for supper one night.

On this Memorial Day, I'll say thank you to both my dad and one of my brothers who served our country faithfully and proudly in the USAF. Thanks, men! We are better because of you.

Nine

Today is Husby's and my ninth anniversary. We have no special plans. We have three small children. I couldn't find the greeting card section at Whole Foods today, so I think I will be making him a card. I went through an old journal the other day, and I pressed some flowers from Tanzania and Kenya when we visited there immediately after we were engaged in 1998. I'll paste those to his card, and write to him how much I love him.

Without trying to sound ridiculous, we are a good couple. Of course, life wedges itself between us. Three kids, discipline, chores, his job, my 24/7 job of motherhood, our families, friends, a mortgage, being tired, being stressed....all these things wear us down. But we -- he and I as people and together -- are really a gift to one another and to others. We worked with this guy who once told us we had the 'KWAN', as in the Cuba Gooding, Jr. character telling Jerry Maguire he is the ambassador of kwan. I have no idea what the official definition of kwan might be, but as for Husby and me, I like to think that it means we love what's real, we cherish the authentic, we love and respect all life. We are comfortable with ourselves and with almost anyone else. We care to put others at ease. We try to make other belong. We try to be better. And we accept ourselves as we are. We bring that out in one another.

Our dream is to one day live again in the small town where we lived when we were first married, in Northern California. To have just enough of a house, clean and bright. To have land, and a big garden. To work outside. To cook together again. To welcome our families away from the stresses of their lives into the life we value and love.

So here's to nine good years, G. Here's to us. Keep the dreams and the memories fresh. Be mindful of the beauty of our days now. I love you.

Meme

Never done one of these things for the public. This ought to be good, what with Husby traveling to Napa Valley for a customer meeting....poor, poor hardworking, self-sacrificing soul.....; his college-ex-girlfriend crashing at my house for two nights; his parents in-town but sorta hedging on just when exactly they'll be hanging with their grandchildren; and my generally piss poor attitude today. Some days are JUST ....here it goes.... .

Where is your cell phone? In the Blue Bag.
Your significant other? On his way to the airport. Bastard.
Your hair? Ponytail.
Your mother? Making supper in Atlanta, worrying over my brothers
Your father? In the basement, drinking his wine, so he doesn't worry over my brothers
Your favorite thing? Silence.
Your dream last night? For the baby to go back to sleep.
Your favorite drink? coffee and/ or water
Your dream/goal? Living in peace on my own land with my own food growing behind my kitchen.
The room you’re in? The kitchen/ at the deskish thing.
Your ex(s)? Still pining for me, surely.
Your fear? Dying some tragic death and not raising my children
Where do you want to be in 6 years? See "the dream/ goal".
Where were you last night? Payson, AZ, eating supper looking over the Mogollon Rim
What you’re not? Weak
Muffins? Not my favorite, and let's be honest....they're cake without the icing.
One of your wish list items? diamond stud earrings; a trip to St. John USVI; a babysitter on-demand
Where you grew up? Atlanta and Mobile, Alabama
The last thing you did? Said good-bye to my husband who, again, is going on a strenuous "business trip" to Napa Valley
What are you wearing? Orange Lilly polo shirt; denim skirt.
Your TV? Only one, in the den, not on.
Your pets? Animals are for eating.
Your computer? Dell laptop. Almost was a Mac.
Your life? A million roles, at the service of many others.
Your mood? Irritated. Obviously, PMSing.
Missing someone? No
Your car? 2002 Volvo XC...rockin' it in Snottsdale, Land o' the rim-encusted Hummer and Escalade
Something you’re not wearing? shoes.
Favorite store? Many, many favorites.
Your summer? Hoping to bag the extended family visits in favor of someplace quiet with just my own family.
Favorite color? Green
When is the last time you laughed? Last night
Last time you cried? Any minute...see "mood'!

Taxing

I hope everyone was able to file their taxes on-time. We took care of that chore a few weeks ago, so there's one less thing to worry about.

My eldest and youngest are having birthdays in less than a month. For Kindergarten Boy, we invited his whole (15 count) class to a low-key pizza and cake party at one the the best pizza places in the Valley (in the U.S., actually). It will be quick, manageable, and best of all far far from my home. My mom will be in-town for it. The baby's First Birthday is the cause of a large celebration at our house. We are not calling it a First Birthday, but we will be celebrating dear friends and family who have aided us and helped us through the joyful and EXHAUSTING First Year. I am hoping to have a catered pig roast. We'll see if I can find a good caterer who will do it. And do it well!

The latest drama in the life of Kindergarten Boy was having a core group of Kindergarten girls asking him to 'show his private parts'. Dear God. He tends to start pulling his pants down sometimes before he makes it around the corner of the boys' room, and believe me those sassy little girls noticed. Well, after I got pulled into the school counselor's office to talk with Kindergarten Boy about his behavior, we never had another problem. Poor kid. He was so embarrassed, but you live and learn. And being a Mom, I tried to make him feel better after school. We went to the store and I let him choose a 'Better' cookie....to help make it Better. But he's still getting the 'requests'. I alerted his teacher. I talked with a couple friends who also have Kindergartners. And wow, did I get a diatribe on the Mean Girls and Queen Bees of the Kindergarten.

What? Wait now. These are 5 and 6 year olds. Are they really already clique-y and socially insecure? Already? I didn't notice or even worry about that idea until I was in maybe 5th grade. The END of 5th grade!!! How sad. Do other moms in other schools witness this new social classism so young? If being a pesky snotty girl who wants to grow up way too quickly is what is required to be the 'Queen Bee' of elementary school, then please Jesus let my children be well-mannered, kind, friendly social outcasts (WHO ACT LIKE CHILDREN). Who cares. Obviously, they will. But it's my job to make sure they grow up well, and strong, with a good sense of themselves. Their peers are so influential. And it's just the beginning. I know.

Preschool Boy and I and another mom and a friend visited the Zoo yesterday. The boys were filthy by the end of the day. They loved it. They loved the boa constrictor and the iguanas. And of course the stingrays.

Baby Girl is fine, sweet as always, starting to wear her new crop of warm weather outfits. My favorite might be her birthday outfit: a swing top with big pink bows at the shoulders, little knee bloomers (with more pink bows), and an appliqued cake with one candle and her name on it. My dear God, it's the visual definition of precious.

We'll also be hosting a wine tasting, which we auctioned off for a charity thing. It's next weekend, and we're excited for the food and the wine! My mom will be arrving just in time to 'crash' the event. She deserves a pile of good times, and I know she'll have a blast and charm all the other guests.

Favorite Things

Out here in the desert, I crave anything green, lush and full of life. A bowl of Granny Smith apples, a watered houseplant, the new, sweet little finds above.

The shoes are adorable. They go perfectly with denim or khaki, and especially a white blouse or a little lightweight white spring sweater.

And the cherries are the border for Baby Girl's First Birthday Celebration. We don't 'do' First Birthday Parties in this house. We DO say Thank You in the most grateful and fun manner possible to our friends and families who have supported us through a child's First Year. We throw a big party in honor of them, to toast their love and care, and to pat ourselves on the backs. We survived the year. All of us, together. Let's celebrate.

I am going to need to put together a menu for about 18-20 adults, plus offspring, for our gathering in a few weeks. I'll also bake a cake, and pull it out as a surprise toward the end so we can sing to the little one. Menu suggestions are welcome. We want to keep it light, fun, yummy, and memorable.

Home Again

We were so thrilled to return home to our sunny abode. Spring is a perfect time of year out here, and our big bright house with its big windows was welcome after a Midatlantic downtown area, with its crowds and grime. The boys and the baby and I spent almost all day outside in our sweet smelling backyard yesterday.

We have (yet another) nest in our front entryway this year. Last year, a little bird built her nest in our Easter wreath. This year in our pot holding a Sago Palm. This is of course sweet and cute now, but when the eggs hatch there is bird poop all over the place. EWWWW. I'll be cleaning the vestibule with hot water and bleach once more.

I survived the wedding and didn't stand up to object. I am worried about them. Full disclosure. They seem happy, but I see too many potential problems. Again, for now, I want to give everyone the benefit of the doubt and chalk my feelings up to big-sisterly love :). My mother is driving me nuts because she's basically displacing all her frustrations and worry over this union onto everyone else.: Baby Girl's nose was running...what's wrong with her; why didn't I take my wee children out of the room when the loud band started up; her brother bothers her; her mother bothers her; my husband didn't do enough (???); she wants my children near her all to herself, but she quickly got bored with them. She was a mess. My brother came to see her in his tux prior to the ceremony, and she cried like a baby girl. I adore my mother, but she's really struggling with this, more than I am.

Now that everyone thinks (knows?) my own family is completely crazy, I must (as always) run to get Preschool Boy ready for Montessori and out the door. Anyway, whose family isn't completely crazy? I read somewhere that when a baby is born into a family, the birth is not the miracle. The birth happens no matter what. A mom, dad, sibling, a baby, most anyone can do that. That's nature. The pain, frustration, the fight, the work -- all the work -- transformed into great love is the miracle. I think that stands for all things in life, surely for family.

He Ain't Heavy...

My middle brother is getting married tomorrow.

I can't believe it. Middle brother is 'the quiet one'. I am feeling like a true, overbearing big sister, worrying over him, hoping he is (and will continue to be) happy. I hope his future wife sees all the wonderful things I see in him and know about him. I have known him all his life. I know that although he is quiet, it's true when someone says 'still waters run deep'. I know he can keep your confidence like no one's business. He is loyal to a fault, incredibly kind, trustworthy and dependable. He is a rare gift of authenticity and quiet confidence in this world of so much superficiality, acquisitiveness, noise. So many of us don't know or forget 'who we are'. But I think Ron knows.

When he was a baby he used to be carried around the ice rink by my Dad, and they would chase me around the rink. He couldn't say my name, so he yelled 'Eeees'. He and I swam on the swim team together and played tennis together almost every summer of our childhoods. We loved the ice cream man, so we devised a way -- with Mom's help -- of making extra money to buy his offerings. We sold Kool Aid to the neighborhood builders and made a small fortune. We babysat neighbors' cats and dogs. We put together so much money we bought a television. We attended Catholic school together, eventually both attending Notre Dame together. Although he was a freshman when I was a senior, and we didn't really run in the same social scene, we ate together at the dining hall about once/ month, just to catch up with one another. We worked together as lifeguards, and for a dozen reasons there is no one with whom I would rather work. He's the guy who always shows up, always does a great job, never left me muttering about 'where did you learn to do....". What a great privilege it has been -- and is -- to live alongside him.

He is my eldest son's Godfather, or Keresztapa. Not only is he K-Boy's Keresztapa, but he has been a part of each child's baptism, been a part of almost every holiday he can make it to, and he offers my three endless patience. Those of us who know children firsthand know this is a precious tremendous gift.

And so I will toast him and his bride tonight with all my love and all the hope in my heart, that they always see one another's gifts. Someone said love is ideal, but marriage is real. Take care of one another, and know that you always have me to call on, whether you need to save up for a television; or just need to lean on someone who knows your gifts, and your hopes; or you need a little unsolicited overbearing advice. I've always loved you. I always will.

Easter Monday

We enjoyed a beautiful Easter weekend, with visits from Husby's brother and his wife Saturday night, and then Easter dinner here at home with his dad, whom the babies call Boppa.

The bunny brought yummy chocolates and hid eggs filled with coins in the backyard. The children looked very pretty in their Easter finery. Mass was too crowded. Sigh. I suppose we ought to be grateful for anyone who makes an appearance for Mass, but why double the crowds twice a year?

The big wedding is this coming weekend, and I am still hoping for no tuxes, though I don't believe that Miracle will be happening. I reflected a bit this weekend about our Catholic school situation, and I have come to a conclusion that this traditional pastor really only impacts my son and my family as much as we allow him to do so. "The receiver receives in the manner s/he receives." In other words, people are only as powerful as we allow them to be. For now, I think, we'll be leaving Kindergarten Boy where he is. I'll keep you posted when and if I change my mind -- AGAIN.

We're off to the Botanical Gardens this morning. The Butterfly Exhibit here is the best I have ever seen. Thousands! It's so cool. We're bringing a picnic lunch, too. And trying to hide the chocolate so we can make it last more than 36 hours.

Balance

Happy Vernal Equinox! I love, love, love Spring. Two of our three children were born in springtime, and our anniversary falls during the heart of Spring.

A few years back, I joined a dear friend's birthday celebration in Hume, Virginia, near the Blue Ridge in Virginia's wine country. The landscape and flowers and baby lambs (seriously) were all so fresh and beautiful, I was literally brought to tears driving out there from our home in Richmond.

It is --another -- bright and beautiful morning out here in the high desert. Even in the bad, brown desert, Spring is beautiful. We actually have flowers bloom throughout April, and we had enough rain this past Winter that the bushes and cactuses in the wash behind our house are bright green.

Indeed, rebirth and renewal is the good news of our lives. Whatever your beliefs or background, Spring is a miracle. So grab your Claritin, and get out and enjoy.

Material Girl

Baby Girl and I went shopping yesterday, primarily to find her a pretty and suitable dress for my brother's wedding next week. There was some Strasburg on-sale, but the only obviously non-Christmas dresses were black velvet with red trim on the collar and sash. Black. On children, especially babies. It's just so....somber and wrong. She looked like a tiny, mostly bald, nun. So weird looking. We went with a darling smocked bishop, light pink, with small seed pearls since this is a fancy occasion.

After we finished our priority-shopping, we browsed around the mall. Baby Girl and I found some darling baby Mary Jane shoes that were soft and pretty and fit her freakishly small size 2 feet. I don't really care for those baby leather slipper things, and these have just enough shape (though are still squishy). Our big mall in the arid Southwest has just added a Carolina Herrera boutique and a Jimmy Choo boutique. OMG. Love it. Love it all. Now I need a bigger wallet. Or less guilt. That Choo Ramona bag? So, so pretty. And, honestly, a tiny bit unnecessary for a woman whose current bag is loaded with dust and crumbs, a random pecan in its shell (?), my sons' velcro wallets in CAMO and FLAMES decor; her own Vera Bradely wallet, a changing pad, sensitive wipes, dipes; crayons and pens; one lip gloss and one lip stick that go with everything; cell phone which hopefully has enough charge; a hair elastic and two hair pins; a change of training pants (3 YO Boy has been trained for 15 mos, so....those are old)

So....do you think those e-bay deals where the bags are reported to be 'authentic' yet are about 20% of the retail price is a bunch of hooey? I'm kind of just wondering.

My Kindergartener starts Spring Break at noon tomorrow. We need to do haircuts, and then a photo-op with the Easter Bunny. We'll be seeing my entire extended family for my brother's wedding a week from Easter. He's (my brother) been driving me a bit crazy. He wants my sons (5YO Boy is his godson) to be ring bearers, and his bride is going to pass out and die unless these sweet, sweet children wear tuxedos. I'll wait. Are you done dry-heaving? It still occasionally overcomes me, too. Little boys in tuxedos? Totally ridiculous. All I hear about is how factor X of this wedding is going to be 'SO sophisticated!' or 'fabulous', and I am trying hard to stop rolling my eyes. Trust me, this whole thing is a big circus, and showing off their stuff seems to be what this couple enjoys doing. Maybe I used to be like that, too. Maybe I was a little Bridezilla 9 years back when we were married back home in Georgia. Then again, Husby and I gave out BBQ sauce from Fat Matt's Rib Shack in Atlanta as wedding favors (because YUM! more beloved than hard almonds!) and other than that we basically did whatever my mother wanted to do.

Must run, friends, and pull everyone together for the day. I'll keep you updated through the Wedding Countdown. I am praying for an Easter Miracle that the little black tuxedos will not be ready on wedding day, and the buddies will actually have to wear their precious and very handsome Easter clothes from the previous week, instead.

It's A Saturday....

I fell asleep last night at 8:07pm. Delicious. And disheartening. Friday nights used to be all about celebration and carousing and eating yummy foods, friends, the one you love, and welcoming the weekend. Good times.

I awoke this morning refreshed, around 5:45am, and I stole away to the kitchen to make coffee, and sneak outside to the back porch. To watch the sunrise. Like they talk about it commercials and TV-Land. Where women go and have silence and caffeine, unto themselves. I was pretty excited to start my weekend at 5:45am with peace and goodwill. The birds even started chirping.

Enter sleepy-bedhead boys staring at me through the windown, approximately 6:06. WTF. How do they sense my state of consciousness?! How do they know the sun is just eeeking the faintest softest white light behind the mountains in our backyard?! Are they wild animals? I think yes! So they of course had to come out and sit with (on) me. And they were good and quiet for a few minutes. We listened for sounds: a birdie, the neighbor's pool drain, an airplane, the wind....."your stomach", said one to the other.

Enter Daddy and Baby Girl approximately 6:17. For being the introverted quiet one, that man could not sit still. Got up to put on more clothes. Got up to fetch a blanket. Kept telling boys to stop squirming. (Everyone please go inside....). Got up to hand Baby Girl to me. Noted whom Baby Girl was watching. Boys gew more and more restless. Just before 7am we came in. The big sun wasn't QUITE up at 6:50, but that was going to have to do.

Boys asked for toast. And cereal. And oatmeal. And berries. They got cereal, and some of my toast. They finger painted milk all over the kitchen table. They cleared their bowls and proceeded to fight over ONE coloring book. The whining one got sent to sit in the bathroom. Twice. Daddy asked the start-time of a Saturday birthday party, asking if he could just stay home alone? Sorry, buddy. I need to go to the store for dipes, wipes, etc., and we can't leave both boys 5 and 3 without some help. Do your job, man. Daddy offered maybe the boys could go get haircuts NEXT Friday. They already look like ridiculous copies of kids from 1977, since we normally do haircuts the first of the month. And there will be NO photos with the Easter Bunny until the hair is cut. And by god, I'll take them today to the local kiddie salon, which he thinks does a so-so job, unless Daddy gets going with them and his beloved barber. Daddy left, and went alone to the bedroom for a shower.

I just caught sight of my hair sticking out everywhere, my face still smooshed from the pillow, as I was taking screeching Baby Girl to change her stinky pants and get her dressed.

We need to buy this birthday kid a gift prior to the start of the big party, too, and the boys needs to get dressed and pulled together. And wow, maybe I need to do the same! Nice idea... The sun has officially been up now for an hour. It's shining on my back and reflecting around the screen of the computer. My coffee is cold, but the the sun is warm. So much work to get that thing up everyday :).

The Confessions of A Musing Mama

We of the Amusing Household are Catholics. The husby and I were Born and Raised, attending Catholic schools for almost the entirety of our educations; he chose a big State college, and I attended a Protestant private school 9th-12th somewhere deep in the South. But otherwise, we matriculated through Catholic institutions, which were positive, even life changing, experiences for each of us.

Our children are all baptized. We attend Mass nearly every Sunday. We practice our faith in the Christian, specifically Catholic, tradition. I love my faith. My education and formation and practice of the faith I think makes me a more thoughtful, grateful person. Which is good for everyone.

I say all this not to demonstrate that we are the most Orthodox religious people on the planet. Far, far from it. Really far. Really. Rather, our lifetimes of faith (so far) have brought us to wider understandings of God, the spiritual, the numinous, the great and mysterious point of it all. Which I happen to believe comes down to love -- 'love, baby, love, that's the secret...' -- and it's as simple and complex as that.

And, so, we have begun the Catholic education of the Babies. Kindergarten Boy started last August in a fantastic Catholic elementary school here in the Southwest. We looked around at a few alternatives, and this particular place not only had the academic success and strong credentials, and after-school activities, and cutie-pie celebrations, and word-of-mouth favoritism. It had that something extra, that nameless thing, that you only 'know when you see.' You know that thing (aren't I eloquent)? At Notre Dame, it's called 'mystique'. It's like that. When the community is strong, and caring. Something....this school had IT. And the place had a spectacular leader, a Sister religious, who greeted us every morning when we walked through the gates, and who threw away my lunch garbage, when the other two babies and I met Kindergarten Boy for hot-lunch in the cafeteria one Fall afternoon. In my years of working for the Corporate Man, I did learn that leadership is (almost) everything. The place of course was not perfect, but I was hard pressed to find anything better in this town, or most other towns. This place is very special, and places like this don't come along too often. We were thrilled to 1) get-in to the school and 2) be a part of all of it.

Around the same time the school year started, so did a brand new parish pastor. We do not belong to the school's parish, mostly because the we enjoy the quiet location and liturgy of our 'home' parish. It's our choice, and we pay a slightly higher tuition rate accordingly. Probably later, we'll need to change to align our Mass attendance with our children's first sacraments (Eucharist, Penance, etc.). All in good time.

The word from our friends, and others whom we know, like and respect was that this new pastor was ultra-Traditional, bringing with him daily Latin Mass (the Tridentine rite as opposed to the 'Novus Ordo' that most of us other Catholics younger than 40 only know). Ok.... Whatever. It's a part of the Catholic tradition. Fine. He required a change to the students' Religion textbooks. Whatever. It's his choice (hopefully with the school's educator and administrators' experience weighing in?). Again, fine. And then, our friendly parishioners were telling us about homilies and classroom visits sharing the insightful news that only true, rule-according (whatever that is) Catholics are saved. Implying what exactly? The rest of the Universe is damned to Hell? Uhhh....wha? Seriously? No, SERIOUSLY?!! You have got to be kidding me.

Come January, the leader of the school -- the fantastic, dedicated, kind and generous, award-winning Sister -- was fired. The Diocese came forth about two weeks later (gotta love the speed guys) stating 'no misconduct' but would comment no further due to employer-employee blah-blah-blabity-blah. Stupid Catholic Church organization. They create a lot of their own trouble. The official reason was that the Principal's and the new pastor's "vision of Catholic education" were not compatible. Christ. A Sister wasnt Catholic enough.

To save you the gory details, in sum, the school's families were ballistic. And still are. Oh, and Sister Principal was hired for the next school year by the parish school 25 blocks down the road. WTF. W. T. F. I have taken to calling this little parish pastor dumb-shit leader Pastor Disaster. Disaster is right. Ugly. There are factions now between families. Some "good Catholics" are now speaking out against the "bad Catholics"....however that line might be drawn. Many have stopped attending the parish altogether. Many are removing their children from the school. And others are more conservatively 'waiting-and-seeing'.

Catholic school contracts are due. And the question for us is to stay with the place, hoping the goodness will re-emerge or is still actually there. Or to send the future First Grade Boy to the less-academically hyped neighboring school where Sister Principal will be leading next August. What happened to the Something? Where will we find it? And what about the disruption to Kindergarten Boy's life?

This whole Disaster has made me emotional and angry. And more distrustful of the Church and its leadership, from the Pope on down. I have always been wary of the hierarchy and frankly patriarchy of the Catholic Church. But is this what it's supposed to be all about? Rules? Power? Obedience, to what exactly? Is this what I am suppposed to be getting out of my encounters with clergy and the sacraments? Anger? Are they trying for guilt? Control?

What's love got to do with any of that.

Greeting

I should begin with an introduction. I really like reading other people's '100 Things' and random internet Q&A tags, but...I have tried to do that 100 Things, and I don't have the patience for finishing it. Too many distractions and interruptions in this house.

I have chosen to start writing in a blog because I have too much swirling around in my head. Not crazy-like. Just lots of thoughts (how to raise happy children without them being the death of my mental stability); ideas (MUST finish our family room and kitchen...it still looks like a warehouse two years after we moved here); rants (oh yes, I love to rant, with my mother especially, but honestly I am careful with whom I rant....I sort-of-kind-of try to give folks the benefit of the doubt and I don't really care to offend others. Unless they start it. Then we have a fair game.)

Having grown up in the Southeast, my style tends to be a more conservative. I like children to look (and behave!) like children, rather than Little Adults. Hi there, Clueless Hollywood Starlets! I like my hair not to become tooooo (I am a realist) far a cry from its intended color. I have also moved around this blessed country many times (13), to many places (east, west, north, south, middle), worked with, have been neighbors with, and met all kinds of people, and I can honestly say there is not one place I have not (sometimes evennnnnntually) embraced and enjoyed. I like many types of people with all manner of sensibilities. I like to learn about them, and I appreciate who they are. On the other hand, I don't have a lot of patience for terribly insecure folks with lots of issues. Especially when said issues impact others negatively.

My hands-down favorite place I have lived is a perfect, breathtaking small town in Northern California. An actual Garden of Eden, swathed in lavender, eucalyptus, California bay, and many many grapevines. I'd go back there in a second to live and raise this family.

My little family includes Working-for-the-Man Daddy. Work at his corporate-America gig is a dirty whore, and I hate her for the time she demands (and no one's fooling me if they think going out to big fancy work dinnners is SUCH A CHORE compared with feeding, bathing and putting down 3 babes), but the money is a means to an end: to live the way we care to live, to help those we care to help, in ways we prefer. We also are blessed with the three babies. Kindergarten Boy, 5; Preschool Boy 3; and squishy, smily, occasionally screamy Baby Girl 9 mos. My parents still live back in the Southeast, and my husband's family still lives in the Midwest. And I worked the Corporate Gig (soul-numbing, yet the back-patting and getting-to-be-smart-and-competent is addictive) for over a decade post-college, and now I stay home/ drive the family Volvo wagon full time in our latest locale -- the arid Southwest.

My husby often looks at me and declares: 'Crazy.' But you know what? He loves it. I love it, and I'd be lost without it: the noise, the kids, their weird jokes, our family meals, the passion and all the moments of overwhelming joy. Feel free to join me, introduce yourself, too, and play nice with my family, friends and me.....otherwise, See Paragraph Two.

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