Just When I Thought...

... we really were growing corn in our backyard:


















I was greeted by the sight of this beauty first thing in the morning:
















My landscaping neighbor told me what these were, but since I apparently can't even tell the difference between a pansy and a petunia,* the name of these beauties completely escapes my mind...
















But they sure are pretty!



*As revealed so eloquently when my knowledgable neighbor informed me that he had a flat of petunias to give me. And then asked, "You do know what a petunia is, don't you?" Whereupon I triumphantly pointed directly to his pansies. Yup, I'm a smart one!

:)

Anyone Else...

...know of three awesome Catholic husbands and fathers who will be spending their evening re-living those (shudder) high school years glorying in the despairing sounds of The Cure?*

I do.

:)

While I wouldn't mind taking a peek around at the goings on of the actual concert, I think I'd not really be interested enough to stay. Robert Smith may be an amazing artist, but he just creeps me out with his eyeliner and lipstick after all these years.

DH has found some great friends who love going to these sorts of concerts and it should be a fun trip down memory lane for all of them.


Minus the eyeliner, of course.**

:)


* even if, as DH claims, he didn't like them until college... I remember the fads of my friends wearing lots of black and lots of eyeliner in high school. As a result, I didn't like them until college either.

**there is a story here.... if I could only tell it and find that picture!!

Tears

We are hockey fans. Rabid, know-it-all hockey fans. My DH is Canadian and grew up with the theme of "Hockey Night in Canada" echoing through his home every Saturday. Our Team is the Vancouver Canucks.

We are not above bandwagon jumping, however, and when the Canucks failed to make the Playoffs, we quickly chose a team in each conference to cheer for.

For the Western Conference it was the Dallas Stars. (you see, we can be loyalists sometimes!) And for the Eastern Conference, we became enamored* with Sidney Crosby and the Pittsburgh Penguins.

And so, it was with great sorrow that we watched our beloved Penguins battle their hearts out that last minute of game 6, desperately trying to tie the score and send the game into overtime. Just like they had done in game 4, when they ended up playing 3 periods of overtime before scoring the winning goal.

The guys played with such passion. And when the final horn sounded and the Red Wings began their celebration, the Penguins wore their hearts on their sleeves and stared... stunned in disbelief. My oldest started crying.

The Pittsburgh crowd was awesome. They cheered their team, chanting their goalie's name over and over. On their feet, they celebrated an amazing season with an amazing team. My son was comforted by the fact that these guys are young. Much younger than the veteran-peppered Red Wings.

And next year? They will be virtually unstoppable.


*Ok, so maybe it was only Little Dear and I that were truly enamored. Little's Love and Boo were obsessed with pronouncing his name Sid-ney rather than Cin-dy. And the boys were committing his hockey moves to memory.

:)

Guess Where We Went Today?

And the lovely Mamas who came with....

















Girly time...
















Boys and dirt/sand. Must. Dig.

















Little Love...





















Lunch-a-ble Little Boo...















But the question remains.....

Was it worth it?





















HMMMMM.....
















:)

Kindred Spirits

I've waxed eloquently many times on the amazing friendships I have here in my hometown. I am truly a blessed woman to live in this community of like-minded Moms.

One might be tempted to think that since I have so many good Catholic moms here at my fingertips, my calendar must be filled to the max with playdates and outings galore. My phone must be ringing off the hook, and the number of meals and outside obligations keep me as busy as a bee.

Not so, I say, not so.

And I say this with a sense of peace (finally!) and not regret or loneliness.

When I first moved here, over 10 years ago, and I started to scratch the surface of this amazing little Catholic town, I was caught up in the novelty of it all. I was determined to be friends with everyone, and went out of my way to nurture these friendships. Of course, it was a daunting task. I mean, I have over 20 families on my local phone list on the fridge, and probably at least 50 more in a local e-mail loop I belong to. And the number is growing. It's wonderful and refreshing... but unrealistic to think that I can really "know" everyone.

And for the first time ever, I am realizing that this is okay.

It hit me a few months ago when I met a family that was visiting the area. We were introduced, and our two families immediately hit it off. The *click* was almost audible. Our kids ran around our house like banshees with nary a fight or disagreement, and the adults chattered up a storm. When the mom brought the kids over by herself, I shared thoughts and views with her that would only be spoken by close, life-long friends. The coolest thing was, at every turn, we were in agreement. And I felt like I had found a long lost sister or soul-mate. Too bad they live 2000 miles away!

I have a handful of friends here that fit that very same description. Probably about 4 or 5. Given my melancholic temperment, that number suits me perfectly. I need my solitude and my peace. But I also need these kindred spirits to support and stabilize me, to draw me out and challenge me, and to just have a good hearty laugh with. And even though I may not be as close to some of my other friends, I still truly care about them and would do anything to help them any time.

What I had a hard time letting go of, is the thought that everyone needs to be a kindred spirit, a soul-mate. My chance meeting with a dear friend who lives 2000 miles away convinced me that there really is this wonderful plan in God's design that allows certain people to be drawn to certain other people. It is not a deficiency on our part that we cannot feel this connection with everyone. It is God's gift that He allows us to experience it with anyone.

He has given us this little glimpse into what eternal happiness has in store for us. Many kindred spirits, inspiring soul-mates, and dear dear friends.

:)

Stylin' Summer

Being a 36 year old mother of 5 has it's challenges. Many of you know these challenges all too well, and have written (and read) about the multitude of ups and downs in a life with many littles.

Today, I'd like to add to these conversations the dimension of dressing in Mommyhood land.

It's been awhile since I've explored this topic, and the startling advent of the early Texas summer has brought this discussion to the forefront of my thoughts.

As a young Mom of one, over 10 years ago, my dressing habits suffered no change. Even the two piece swimsuit was still in the reportoire, since it was Sports Fan who christened my body with it's first stretch marks, while Action Man only left his mark by way of a small c-section scar. My veins had survived unscathed, and my high metabolism did it's work, miraculously melting away the 60 lbs I had gained "for the sake of the baby..."

Sometime after Little Dear, (2 babies in less than a year certainly took it's toll) and all of my shorter shorts went out the window. Luckily, capris were coming into style, and I indulged voraciously. I think I still have most of the ones I bought after the initial purge.

And now.

Now, I thought, I needed to go through my tops. I thought I needed to get rid of all of my cute tanks and start dressing according to the rules of Mommyhood. You know, the long shapeless mono-colored tops with no frills or baring of the shoulders.... It would be a switch, but I was ready for it. I'm.... old. And I need to embrace my maturity!

And so, I started buying. I found some cute flowy tops with fun colors and patterns. I wore them with my cotton knee-length skirts, and looked very mom-ish, and was happy.... for about 10 days.

This weekend, after enduring glorying in my mature Mommy-ness, I had enough. Out came my ripped jeans and a babydoll tank. I threw them on, and looked in the mirror. I felt 10 years younger. I bounced downstairs and DH smiled at me and said something to the effect of, "Now, there's my girl!"

Being mature was really fun for those 10 days. But I think I'll wait until I'm 56.... or maybe 60.*


:)


*after consulting with some really good friends who promised they'd tell me if they ever thought I was dressed inappropriately, that is... I love that I can be myself. What great friends!

Feline Foray

Little Love asked me this morning if we could go back to the "Cat Pool". DH looked at me quizzically. And I asked Little Love, "Cat Pool?"

"Yes, Mama" she assured me, "that's what you called it!"

"No," I said, "we went to the kiddie.... ah. Yes, the kitty pool!"

:)

Things Are WAY Too Calm Around Here

Meet Bryan/Sniffles/ Brownie/ Nibbles/ Sparkle/Dinner!* The Gerbil.**

The newest member of the Nut House.

And things just get Nuttier.

:)

*Ben the cat's contribution...

**Erm... and his name is Chewie. As in Chewbacca... and "He chews a lot. Even his own droppings. Ew!"

I Can Appreciate Her Concern...

Upon being interrupted in her tree-climbing expedition this morning with instructions to go brush her teeth, Little Boo blurts out in exasperation:

But what if I brush my teeth and then accidentally go bite the tree?


:)

Navel Gazing...

Anyone else love going through their archives, reading the funny stories, and looking at the cute pictures?

Me too.

Time is flying by, and if for no other reason than that, I am so glad I have this blog to record our blessed life.

:)