Costumes

Somebody made the dress (my Mom? my Grandma?). My dad made the daisy wreath. I remember posing for this picture in the backyard.

Kate got a white dress and a veil and a rosary (Denver in the 70s vs. Sandhills in the 80s, I guess). I was jealous. Looking back, I really can't believe that, but I was. I look so sweet.

I took my kids shopping for First Communion and Confirmation. They had huge sales at the mall because of Leap Year. 50% off and then coupons for more off the more you spent (and I spent a lot - way more than usual).

Shopping with Frank:

"I don't want a suit. I want a jacket."

"Ok. Navy blazer? Khaki pants?"

"Sure."

"White or blue shirt?"

"Orange," he said.

"Ok," I said.

We were done in 5 minutes. Tops. And that includes finding the boys' section in the first place.

Shopping with Mary and Anna:

Dress after dress after dress after dress. Two hours later we were finally in the shoe section with Anna and Mary, who had finally compromised on a dress with me, and now we needed shoes.

"Argh!" Frank actually yelled at one point as he buried his face in the bench he was sitting on.

"I hate my dress, Mommy, but I'll wear it for you," Mary said sweetly.

That's really what this whole thing is about, I have decided.

En Pointe

She tried on three pairs of shoes. Each time the saleswoman had her stand in first position with her feet down. With the third pair she appeared happy with the way the heel fit and had her move to the barre.

"Hold the barre and extend your feet," the saleswoman said.

Anna looked at her expectantly.

"Extend my feet?"

"Stand on your toes," the saleswoman said.

Swoosh. She stood on her toes with her arm in first position while the saleswoman checked the fit again. I thought of the years of lessons, the promise of toe shoes, the French terms tacked to her bulletin board, the twice a week advanced ballet and pre-pointe classes that leave her with sore legs.

"Mom? Are you crying?"

I cried again when I got the total for the shoes, gel for the toes and an extra pair of tights.

Knock Knock

The younger kiddos were begging for a treat after some particularly good parent teacher conferences. So we stopped at the gift store and they picked out a lion and a duck to add to their Webkins collection (they're stuffed animals that have a virtual life too). The animals remind me of Beanie Babies, but the difference is the virutal life, I guess. We decided to get dogs for the teenaged girls and I wasn't sure how that would go over.

"A puggie wuggie!" Anna squealed.

"Awww!" Hannah said when she got her collie.

"They're kind of baby-ish," I said, "but you might find them kind of fun."

While I made dinner, the kids all registered their pets and made them all "friends" in their virtual world. The animals all have a virtual house and the kids decorated their rooms and gave them baths and fed them.

I listened to the news on the radio and picked meat off a chicken carcass. I made biscuits and then made chicken gravy with the broth from the carcass. Just as I began to worry about when Bill was going to get home, his car pulled into the driveway. I mixed the meat into the gravy and - tada! - we had chicken a la king.

"What's for dinner?" Frank asked cautiously as he looked at the unfamiliar meal.

"Knock, knock," I said.

"Who's there?"

"Chicken."

"Chicken who?"

"Chicken a la king!"

"Mom!"

"I know. It's silly. It was Aunt Kate's favorite joke when she was 4 years old."

"Really?" And I watched the incredulous faces of the kids as they thought about their aunt and their mom as little girls who told knock knock jokes.

That sparked everyone reciting their favorite joke around the dinner table. I wasn't sure if anyone would like dinner, but everyone had seconds and the vegetarian happily ate biscuits and spinach salad and giggled along with the rest of us. I forgot Kate's knock knock joke until last night when I pulled together a dinner out of a chicken carcass sitting in the frig. Some childhood memories are like that - they sit in your brain and come out when something triggers them.

There was a peacefulness and family feeling about last night that makes me hope that the kids remember it, and maybe they'll think of it some night when they make chicken a la king. I wonder what toys their kids will be playing with?

Knock Knock.
Who's there?
Duane.
Duane who?
Duane the tub, I'm drowning!

Everyday Athletes

My running coach videotaped us yesterday afternoon. We met him over by his gym and he stood on the side of the bike path and he videotaped us running towards and away from him. In addition to runners he coaches triathletes and Adventure Runners - both of which really appeal to me - especially as I get older. In my head my athletic future continues with running until I am 40 and then I have decided to switch to triathalons. Chatting with the other Everyday Athletes waiting to get taped, I learned about Adventure Running - all the races are different and you work in teams - you might run and roller blade or run and canoe or run and climb walls - and I think that sounds pretty cool too.

I need more cross training, and I would like some new goals. My kids are older and can be left home or can come with me on a bike ride or play basketball while I swim. It's incredible to me to remember that at my first half marathon my son was still nursing. I have more time and freedom to exercise as they get older, that's what I am trying to say.

There was a strange series of events that led up to the taping yesterday. I was running late and had been running late to everything all weekend and knew that I needed gas, but I didn't have time to stop and get gas, so I tried to drive over to the gym and ran out of gas on the way. I coasted down a hill, turned a corner and parked my car, and then just locked it up and ran to the gym in time to get taped. I dealt with the gas problem after I was done.

That's how I found myself outside a bike shop thinking about triathalons. I was walking back from the gas station carrying my gas can when I went by the used bike store and looked at all the bikes outside the shop. There was one in particular that caught my eye and it appeared to be my size and in great shape. In my head, fresh from a conversation about triathalons, I thought about my need for a road bike so I can ride some serious miles if I want to. There was no price tag flapping in the wind like with the other bikes.

The bell on the door rang when I entered. Bikes, in various stages of repair, lay around the store. This was not a store with new and shiny bikes.

"Can I help you?" He was crouched over a bike on a stand, and he stood to talk to me. Our eyes were at the same level.

"Yeah, I was wondering about the Bianchi in front of the shop?"

"You have good taste. That's my bike." He grinned at me.

He talked to me about what I want and he assured me that he sees road bikes in his shop occasionally and he will keep his eyes open for me and joked that he'll know the bike will fit since we are the same size. It would be nice to have a good road bike by summer, but I'm in no hurry. I'm only 37. And that's way too young for triathalons. Ha! :-)

Lord Have Mercy

They were already on the Third Station of the Cross by the time I slid in next to Mary in the last row on the left side - my personal favorite too.

"You're late, Mommy," she whispered.

The children were spread throughout the church - every few rows. Anna was about three rows ahead of us with her head down.

"You're supposed to focus on the story of Jesus' life as you kneel," Mrs. Fitzpatrick told me, many years ago. I remember my teacher lectured us on our expected behavior during the Stations of the Cross - no talking, no giggling, no touching other people... Apparently the girls' teacher doesn't take any chances, since she separates all the kids from the get go.

As my girls prepare for their Confirmation next month, I recall my own Confirmation preparation. It was a difficult time for me spiritually (and sometimes I wonder, when wasn't it?).

When I went back to the Church I met with the Pastor and explained my situation and my life long issues which included forays into Protestantism. I expressed concern that I wanted my children wanted to belong to a church and I that had been unable to stay with any one church but that I could no longer deny my connection to Catholicism. Fr. Dietrich suggested that we begin by enrolling the kids in CCD.

I have found a renewal of my Catholic faith through my children. I think that Fr. Dietrich knew that would happen, or hoped it would happen. It doesn't begin to solve my issues, but it meets some of my needs and keeps me at church. It causes me to commit to attendance at the Stations of the Cross on Wednesdays during Lent. "I'll be there every week," I promised when the girls whined about their mandatory attendance, which is at the end of their CCD class. After the Stations, I was talking with Fr. Dietrich and learned that he had also recieved his First Communion and Confirmation at St. Mary's as a child. It's clearly a connection that is significant to him. How could he avoid thinking about that as he prepares children for the same Sacraments at the same church? And looking at the earnest faces of the kids, who pious as they appear, can't be trusted to even sit next to each other, how can you not feel the presence of God?

"Lord have mercy," says Mary's little voice next to me in the near empty church. I feel the weight of generations of Catholics pressing down on my heart and I feel as if I can't breathe. I can hardly pray aloud.

Lord have mercy.

Sea Monkeys

Mary found a library book and made a list.

2 liter pop bottles
brine shrimp eggs
air pump
yeast
non-iodized salt

She started making calls to local pet shops.

"Hello. Do you have brine shrimp eggs?" she asked as she took notes.

"She looks like an executive with her legs propped up while she chats on the phone," Bill observed.

She was coming up short.

"Maybe you can buy them at the comic book shop?" asked Bill.

He and I laughed as we recalled the comic book ads for Sea Monkeys - the King of the Sea Monkeys with a little trident.

"I think those take 6 -8 weeks for delivery," I said.

Mary continued to make phone calls in the background.

"You do have brine eggs! Great!" She wrote down the name of the pet store and the address. We did a map quest for the store.

She and her friend excitedly made the brine in their little aquariums and they add the eggs tomorrow. My daughter's aquarium is muddy and her friend's aquarium is clear. Observe and discuss.

You learn a lot by doing a science fair experiment. Very little of it is actual science. I do think that 5th graders acquire knowledge about the scientific method and about how to work with a partner and about developing a presentation. In this case she also learned how to place a professional telephone call and follow directions. And the best part of this experiment? We will soon have new pets!

"Can't she just make a volcano?" asked Bill. He was resistant to the idea of hatching shrimp in the house.

"They won't let you make volcanos anymore," said Anna. "Tha baking soda and vinegar damages the gym floor."

"What if your experiment is the effect of baking soda and vinegar on a gym floor?" Bill proposed.

Let's just hope the cats don't eat the Sea Monkeys. The King might take his Trident to Paco the Cat's Eye and the vet bills would be prohibitive.