A Misunderstanding Of Meaning - Part 2

Last night as we were getting the kids ready for bed, Ian noted how he has a very busy week. "I have karate, pajama day at school, and I have to get ass on my forehead."

Brendan and I looked at each other and said, "What do you have to do, Ian?"

"I have karate, pajama day at school, and I have to get ass on my forehead on Wednesday," Ian replied.

At this point, Brendan erupts into a belly laugh and doubles over with laughter. I try to contain myself, as I don't want to hurt Ian's feelings. "Oh right, Ash Wednesday. You have to get ashes on your forehead."

It will be so nice when Ian's two front teeth grow in.

A Misunderstanding Of Meaning

In the fall I bought Ian a picture Bible that he has read many times. It is set up like a comic book, so it combined two of Ian's favorite things, knowledge of God and comic books. When he first received it, he read all 800 or so pages in about a week. Since then he has read and re-read various parts of it.

Ian's teacher, Miss Bennett, sends a letter home almost every Friday, detailing the weeks events and what is coming up next week. As Lent begins this Wednesday, in last Friday's letter she mentioned that the whole school will be writing down a sacrifice that they will make during the 40 days of Lent. These will be put on display in the hallways, and although she said she would be discussing what a sacrifice was before each student chose and wrote one down, she wanted us to go over what might be an appropriate sacrifice for a first grader to make.

So, yesterday while Ian was having a snack at the dinner table, I brought up the topic of sacrifces. I said that on Ash Wednesday, the season of Lent begins. I went on to explain that during Lent, Catholics often make a sacrifice for the 40 days. I mentioned that all the students in his school would be making a sacrifice for Lent, and that on Monday he would have to tell his teacher what his sacrifice would be. Before I got a chance to explain what a sacrifice was, Ian blurted out, "I can't make a sacrifice. I don't have anything to kill!"

Brendan and I just about fell on our butts laughing. After we recovered and explained that he would really be giving up something he decided he would give up playing his Gameboy for Lent. A good choice, I think.

Ian informed me after school that a sacrifice was supposed to be something hard, not easy, so he decided that since he doesn't play his Gameboy that much, he would give up TV for Lent instead. It's going to be a tough and long 40 days!

Sweeter Than Sugar

Zoe, my youngest who will be two in two weeks, just melted my heart into a puddle on the floor. Before her nap and bedtime I hold her in my arms, and she usually lays her head down on my shoulder while I sing her three songs before I lay her down in her crib to go to sleep. The first song is called "Zoe Bear" and pretty much just consists of me singing those two words. The second song is "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." The third song is "Goodnight Zoe". Today before her nap, as I sang the words "goodnight Zoe" she sang along with me, in her sweet little voice saying, "Night night me" each time I sang it. It was the most beautiful singing I have ever heard.

Smiles

Emma asked me to scratch her back before she went to sleep for her nap this afternoon. As I sat there scratching, I smiled at her, and she tried to suppress a smile on her face. Then she told me, "When you scratch my back it makes my mouth do this." Then she smiled the most beautiful smile in the world.

V-Day Wrap Up

I made a special dinner last night for Valentine's Day. I always like to treat all my sweeties to a special meal on special days. On the menu was country chicken kiev, red potatoes, strawberries and lemon pound cake muffins. The kids made us cut off the tops of the muffins because they had a glaze on top. After that, they gobbled them right up. Everything was yummy and for dessert I made Triple Chocolate Torte. Everyone but Emma liked it, so it was a hit. (Emma likes very few thhings, so I don't worry about it too much.) You can get the recipe for the torte here.

After writing all about how I don't need Brendan to get me any gifts yesterday, he goes and surprises me and got me a gift. It was my favorite perfume that I recently ran out of, so I was truly thrilled. I have to admit it was nice.

Valentine's Day Madness

I understand the newspapers just want to print timely, thoughtful articles that their subscribers are interested in reading. And I have to admit, I read many of the Valentine's articles that were printed in both the Chicago Tribune and the Daily Herald. (Yes, we currently subscribe to both.) But I am really annoyed at all the suggestions and descriptions of what must or must not be done on Valentine's Day. If you took the paper's writers seriously, you must take your wife/ girlfriend out to dinner. You must also buy her something, and not a humidifier as one reporter in the Daily Herald made the mistake of purchasing for a former girlfriend one V-Day. Flowers and candy are good, but jewelry or something truly from the heart is better. I can't stand it!!!!

Brendan and I have been married for 10 1/2 years now, and I can only remember one time when he got me a Valentine's Day gift. It was in 1999, when I was pregnant with our first child. He bought me the video Mulan and a 13-inch TV for our bedroom, ostensibly because I came home from work each day exhausted and since our only other TV was in the frigid basement family room, I could come upstairs, lay down and watch a show. (Never mind that this was his way of getting a TV in the bedroom, because I said I would never have one in there.) Of course, I couldn't tell him no to the TV, so we kept it. And we did use it, especially after Ian was born. But other than that, I'm not sure if he's ever gotten me a gift. (He may have, I just can't remember one way or the other.)

I'm not complaining. On the contrary, if he isn't getting me a gift, I don't have to look for a gift for him. He always gets me a card, which is what is important to me. He often will pick out a funny card, sometimes a mushy one, but he almost always writes something so heartfelt inside that any woman would kill to have the man I have.

I don't need gobs of gifts, candy or flowers to know my husband loves me. He shows me in so many ways outside of Valentine's Day that mean way more to me than a box of chocolates or a bouquet of flowers ever could. He is an amazing Dad to our kids, he cleans the bathroom if I haven't gotten to it one week, he does the dishes almost every night, he listens to me when I've had a horrible day and reassures me that I'm a good mom. He tells me I'm beautiful and desirable and the love of his life. It's enough for me.

John Carroll University Represents

Just learned in my online alumni newsletter from John Carroll University (I graduated in 1995) that JCU sent the largest student contingent to the March for Life in Washington D.C. of any Jesuit institution. Way to go, JCU!

When I was a student there more than ten years ago, I made the trip once and thoroughly enjoyed it. It is a long and tiring trip, travelling overnight to make it to the march on time, then turning around and coming home at 8:00 pm the same day. At least that's how it was when I went. Mostly so that students don't have to miss too many classes. All I can say is it was an awesome experience seeing so many people, young and old, men and women, all races, coming together to try to end abortion. I'm proud to have come from this amazing school where life is valued from conception to natural death.

Read the full story here.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Here's a picture of Ian with his puppy dog valentines that we made together. He is taking them to school today to pass out to all his first grade classmates.

Valentine's Day Treats

If you want to make something sweet for your sweeties for Valentine's Day, give this a try. Make a regular batch of Rice Krispy Treats. Right after spreading them into the pan, sprinkle them with red, pink, and white non-pareils or other Valentine sprinkles. When they are completely cool, cut them with a heart cookie cutter. Voila! Adorable (and yummy) heart shaped treats for all the sweeties in your life!

Which One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other?

Zoe fell asleep on the couch today before her nap, and I couldn't help but take a few photos of the most adorable little girl in the world!

It's Good To Have Lofty Goals

Ian is very excited about a book he is writing in school. He has planned out the dedication (to his sisters) and will make sure he writes the title on the front of the book. He wants me to buy him a notebook so that he can write stories here at home. All this talk of writing stories has inspired Ian to new options for his future. Whereas when he was three and four he usually responded with a firefighter, train engineer, or race car driver when asked about his future profession of choice, he has new ideas now. His current career path? Half bounty hunter, half author.

I think it could work for him. Make some money and gain some interesting stories while hunting down fugitives, then write the stories down and make more money from them. It's really not a bad plan, when you think about it.

Project Runway

I love this season's Project Runway on Bravo. I watched it last year and instantly liked it. I haven't getten to see every episode this year (we don't have Tivo and the VCR is just too much of a hassle), but I have started to plan my weekly grocery shopping around my Wednesday night viewing of the show. Brendan also clued me in to the Tim Gunn Project Runway podcast, which I am crazy about. I subscribe to three podcasts, and this one by far is my favorite. As soon as I download it, I listen to it. Essentially, it is Tim Gunn's opinions, backstory, and views about each episode. I really like it because he gives a lot of behind the scenes events and gives his honest opinion about each garment and each designer's work methods and attitudes. It is concise and well done, as well as entertaining. If you are a fan of Project Runway, you have to get this podcast. I even listened to the episodes that pertained to the shows I didn't see. It's that good.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Somedays my children just make me want to scream.

I Just Liked This

An inspirational quote for the day:

Happiness doesn't depend on the actual number of blessings we manage to scratch from life, but on the attitude toward them.
-Alexander Solzhenitsyn

Plucking

I had to pluck out six (6!!!) gray hairs from my head this morning. I'm not happy about it. Obviously if there are six hairs in the front of my head that I can see are gray, how many are in the back that I can't see?

I began plucking stray grays in my twenties sometime, but never had to remove more than one, maybe two at a time. This morning I found six. This brings me to a difficult dilemma. Do I color my hair to get rid of the gray? I have NEVER colored my hair. No home dye jobs, no professional coloring jobs, not even a highlight. The closest I've come to coloring my hair at all was to use Sun-in. It didn't do much for me. A few brassy streaks that my hairdresser eventually cut off my head before senior pictures.

Now the reason this is a problem for me is that I subscribe to the philosophy that if you are going to color you're hair, you ought to do it right. That means coloring it regularly so that the roots do not come back in and show the gray. I am just not a regular-get-my-hair-done kind of girl. I have long hair that I wear in a pony tail almost every day right now not because I love it that way, but because I just don't call the salon and make an appointment for myself on a regular basis. Last time I got my hair cut was in March or April of 2005, before my sister-in-law's wedding. I don't usually go this long between cuts, but I just don't feel like I have enough time to do it (plus I obviously don't care that much!)

My husband was no help either. When I complained about the state of my hair he offered no support at all. Probably because he started gong gray years ago and if he tried to pluck every gray hair he would have less than 2/3 of his hair left. He looks great with some gray hair. But most guys do. He told me women don't have to worry about going gray. I said that wasn't true. He said HIS woman doesn't have to worry about going gray. I think it was a compliment.

Anyways, I haven't decided for sure, but I'm guessing I won't color it. I hate seeing women who color their hair, but don't commit to it. Either do it right or don't do it all. And since I can't even get to the salon for a haircut every six weeks, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't get there for my required touch ups. I also think I'm too cheap to pay for it. I guess I better learn to like gray.

You Don't Hear About Something Like This Everyday In Illinois

I discovered this truly weird story and had to share it. A 61 year old Ohio woman died in August 2003, and sat in her chair upstairs in front of the TV for 2 1/2 years. When I first saw the story, I thought that no one had discovered her for that long and I thought, "How sad for her. I hope I have enough friends or family members who care about me that when I die they'll come looking for me a little sooner than that."

But much to my surprise and disgust, some people did know she was dead.

Pope died at her home here at age 61 on Aug. 29, 2003. A towel had been placed around her neck to keep her cool on that 87-degree summer day. She wore a white gown while sitting in a chair in an upstairs room, in front of a television that played as family members went about their lives downstairs.

Her daughter, granddaughter, and the woman's caretaker all lived in the house while the woman's dead body was upstairs! Too bizarre!

Read the whole story here.

Brothers!!!

Emma and Ian were having their usual morning "let's bug each other until we drive our mother crazy" session when Emma actually complained using this statement: "Ian's looking at me!"

I thought I had at least a few more years before I had to listen to that one.

Creative Anatomy

Ever since I can remember, I've had a raised mole between my left shoulder and neck. I have heard all kinds of advice on it, none of it from a licensed practitioner. One woman I babysat for in college told me that I should have it removed because it could be pre-cancerous. My mom tells me that as long as it doesn't change color or size, then it's fine. I have always had it and it is a part of me. Most people who see it think it's gross, or at the least unsightly. It's not enormous, but it is raised and can be wiggled if someone touches it. All three of my kids have been both intrigued and slightly disgusted with it. If I wear a wider cut shirt, it can be seen easily. I'm not embarrassed by it, never thought to be.

Zoe is very interested in my mole and asks to look at it often. I have to sit down and pull my shirt collar over so she can get a good look at it. Sometimes she touches it and makes an "ewww" kind of face, other times she just looks at it and says, "Mo."

This morning Zoe was running around in just her diaper when she stopped to look at herself in our full length mirror. All of a sudden she turns around with a huge grin on her face pointing to one of her little nipples and proudly exclaims, "Mo!" She then points to her other nipple and says again, "Mo!" Then, pointing to Brendan, who had just gotten out of the shower and only had a pair of pants on repeated, "Mo!"

I had the best laugh I've had in a long time.

Chocolate Pudding

Wednesday nights are karate night at our house, which means Ian has to go to karate class, Brendan won't be home for dinner, and the kids and I have to eat dinner early to get Ian to class on time. This means I make kid friendly fare for dinner. Who wants to force the kids to eat the perfectly good food I usually make by myself. That kind of coercion is better handled by two adults. So last night we had chicken patties, chicken nuggets (child's preference), apple slices and chocolate pudding.

Before Wednesday night, my kids thought pudding came in a six pack of plastic cups from the grocery store. I don't think I have ever "made" it for them. While whisking the pudding mix into the milk I decided to put the pudding into dessert glasses instead of one big bowl. Anything looks prettier in a tall footed dessert glass than in a big bowl, and my kids, having never had pudding made at home, may have needed some enticement to try the thick brown dessert.

As I pulled the pudding from the refrigerator, Ian and Zoe were obviously excited to devour the contents within. Emma, my extremely picky eater, was interested, but was not allowed to partake at this time due to her still working on her single chicken nugget I required her to finish. Ian had his eaten in no time and declared, "This pudding even tastes better than Jello pudding!" (He was playing on the computer when I emptied the contents from the Jello pudding box into the milk.) I graciously thanked him for his compliment.

Zoe, on noticing Ian's happiness with the dessert and the pretty dish it came in scrambled to clear off her high chair tray. She handed me her plate with half a chicken nugget remaining and her sippy cup and demanded a spoon to be immediately brought to her so she could indulge in the chocolatey goodness. I began eating mine about the time Zoe finished hers and she noticed I was putting peanuts in my pudding. She asked for peanuts in her dish and scraped every last bit of chocolate out with the peanuts. Even when she could no longer get any measurable amount of pudding out of her dish, she asked me at least three times to refill it with peanuts, which she ate with her spoon.

Emma, upon completing her chicken nugget and with both visual and oral displays of how wonderful the chocolate pudding was could no longer hold back. She decided to try it. I brought it out to her and with a small amount on the end of her spoon, she tasted the chocolate pudding. She declared the pudding "the best" and continued to take little spoonfuls. I asked her if she really liked it, because she has a habit of saying she likes something if she thinks someone wants her to like it, but in truth may not like it very much at all. Her response was, "I do like it. Do you want to see me say Yum?" She then stuck a spoonful of pudding into her mouth, smiled a big, brown chocolatey grin, and said, "Yum!"

I think it's safe to say I'll be making pudding again.

Emma Writes Her Name

At the ripe old age of 3 years and 5 months, Emma has written her name for the first time. We were playing with the Magna Doodle when I asked if she wanted to write her letter E. She said yes, and we ended up doing her whole name! She was very proud, and quite frankly, so am I. Now we just have to work on counting past eleven.