I blow you up ... BOOM

This past Saturday was Princess's First Communion. Pictures to follow provided that Hubby gets back from his business trip and remembers to offload his camera. I don't have a card reader for the behemoth memory cards on his SLR. Anyway, Princess was dressed in a sleeveless Cinderella pick up skirt tea length white satin gown. Her hair was up in a big pouffy bun (ala Carrie Bradshaw in Sex In the City) and she wore my handmade veil under it and a rhinestone/pearl tiara in the front. Around her neck she wore my mother's gold cross which Lola gave to her that morning. She wore brand new white shoes with 1.5 inch heels. By the end of mass, I was holding those heels while Princess ran around shoeless. To complete her ensemble, Princess wore white gloves that went up to her elbows. She looked like a real princess. She just needed a scepter and cape.

The kids were asked to be there at 3pm so that they could have their formal portraits taken. I took advantage of my early arrival to reserve seating for the 18 people who were going to be coming to witness Princess's First Communion. We had Lola, Uncle Dwight, who came from Hawaii, Uncle Norm, Aunty Bridget, Cousin Katie, who came over on the ferry, Uncle Davey, Aunty Jan, their kids Alex & Ashley 4 y.o. and Aidan 18 mos., Grams, Gramps, and Aunty Di who came from California. I went to my car and got out every piece of clothing I could find. Came out with a raincoat, hat, bandana, umbrella, paperback, and a bunch of Monopoly money that the now defunct dollar store used to give out as coupons. So I laid out said items and sprinkled a bunch of reserved signs made with the play money all over the pews. Then I waited.

Aside from a couple of snarky comments from people who came later and I told that I had reserved the 2.5 pews, people were pretty receptive to me having reserved the spots. To the one lady who exclaimed in disbelief, "3 pews!" I say, 'Chick, I was here for over 2 hours before you moseyed your way to get a seat so shut it. And peace be with you.' In my head of course.

Grandparents and our family took the front pew and the uncles, aunts and cousins took the 2nd. We had a couple of friends in the 3rd. It all worked out pretty well. Except for when the homily started.

The way the church is situated, the main lectern is on the left side of the altar (stage right). We happened to be seated in the first 3 rows of pews directly to the left of the lectern. We were pretty much spitting distance from our priest. So when the homily started, Fr. Emmett (who is a very sweet man) started talking about Pentecost -- a pretty big day in our faith -- celebrating the Holy Spirit's coming to the apostles and giving them the gift of tongues. One might argue that the Spirit was moving my 2 nephews and my niece. After all, are we not instructed to make a joyful NOISE unto the Lord?

So all during the homily, there were some gender clarifications: "Mommy, Alexander called me a boy. I'm not a boy. I'm a girl." There were also some threats of violence: "I blow you up. BOOM!" And general discontent voiced by the youngest of the 3: your basic baby cry. All this peppered by my brother and sister-in-law's desperate whispers of shush, put that down, don't touch that, quiet, etc. It gave me a major case of the church giggles. You know the kind where you can't laugh out loud but your body can't help but laugh so your shoulders start shaking up and down.

Hubby's sister Diane waited to see the famous church pinch that my mother used to deliver to us on a weekly basis. You know the kind right at the back of the arm on a nerve apparently connected to your voice box. One well placed pinch and you are effectively silenced for the remainder of the service. My mother wasn't sitting in the same row as the kids so only could give a stern look which was miserably ineffective. When asked why the pinches weren't delivered, she said simply, "I couldn't reach." She also hoped that nobody would notice the family resemblance and that she could pretend that those grand babies were not hers.

For his part, Fr. Emmett made every effort not to look in our direction. He truly is a soft touch. One can only hope that he didn't hear the ruckus, that he may have left his hearing aid out... but I suspect that everybody heard them. My friend Steve had arrived late to the service and was sitting clear across the church away from us. When we talked about what the kids were saying, Steve said, "That was you? I heard that."

For the rest of the visit with my brother and his family, our catch phrase was, "I blow you up ... BOOM!"

I can't wait to see them again. Even if I get blown up several times a day.

Visiting the cousins

This past Saturday was the Red Egg and Ginger party for my new(ish) nephew Aash*t. He is 6 months old and the sweetest baby on the planet. I'm totally in love with him. He is one of those dream babies. He rarely cries and when he does, he is usually consolable. He has a sweet personality and smiles easily, laughs even easier. The thighs on that boy are so chubby your fingers sink into them, you can't help but squeeze. Oh, I'll miss him. I've heard babies like this referred to as "sucker babies." They're so sweet and precious that you get suckered into having another baby. At which point God or the universe decides to bring down the hammer with a reproduction-activity-ending-baby: a colicky, scrawny, foul tempered spawn that will make you wonder if there is something seriously wrong with your husband's gene pool.

I don't think there is any worry that my brother and sister-in-law (SIL) will get suckered into having another baby. Little Aash*t was a surprise as it was. No, they started with Ashley and Alex, twin girl and boy. Ashley & Alex are 3 years old. I think God decided that my brother needed to have an easy time of it for once after the baptism of fire with twins up front so He gave my brother Aash*t. The twins are not without their charms though.

Ashley was looking for her mother one day. I told her that Mommy was in the bathroom so Ashley waited outside the bathroom door. When my SIL emerged from the bathroom, Ashley asked, "Mommy, where you go?" My SIL said, "I went potty." To which the potty training Ashley said, "Good job, Mommy," and clapped.

That reminds me of the time I was shopping in Safeway with a 2 or 3 year old That. His daddy was lagging behind so That turned around and said, "Come on Big Boy. Come on!"

Alex is the perfect example of a thrill seeking boy. If he's not climbing on something, he's trying desperately to find and press buttons everywhere. I predict that he will be one of those boys who will take apart something just to see how it works. He must be taught what the Great Wizard Gandalf said: "He who breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." I think that assumes that Alex was on the path of wisdom in the first place. Really, what 3 year old boy ever is on that path? I'm certain my 11 year old hasn't quite found it yet. I think I'll send lots of helmets and other protective equipment for him along with his first skateboard. Considering that they live in concrete San Francisco, there's some seriously gnarly hills to shred. (I know it looks like I'm trying too hard to be hip and cool. I am.)

The twins adored That. I think Alex and That had a special connection. I told That that boys just need time with boy energy. There was an enormous amount of rough play and screeching which was just wonderful to watch. Painful to hear but wonderful to watch. Earplugs would have been a boon.

Lil'T was about 3 inches taller than both of the twins. I think she weighs about 15 pounds more than either of them. I was trying to get them to call her Lil'T because that would just be funny in a Little John of Robin Hood fame kind of way. Lil'T and her cousins bathed together in one big bathtub every evening. Alex typically will stand and pee before he takes a bath. Lil'T was absolutely in awe of this. After one particular bath, she came out of the tub and told me, "I want a boto potty." For my non-pino(a)y readers out there, boto = penis. From what I gather, she was suffering from a major case of penis envy. Specifically, the ability of her cousin to pee while standing up. I totally can understand her pain because I remember having that same kind of envy with my brothers. Totally unfair.

It was good to visit with them and I always leave wishing that they lived closer.

Name of my future nephew

My brother and his wife are expecting their 3rd child -- a boy -- on December 25, 2007. Some of you might make an interesting connection, knowing a little about our family's history.

My dad was visiting us from Hawaii, for a Christmas family reunion when he died suddenly of a heart attack on Christmas Eve 2002.

My 3rd child was conceived on the 2nd anniversary of my father's death. Strange that. And my brother's wife's due date is Dec. 25, the day after the anniversary of my father's passing. I think it is no accident that they -- this new generation -- are coming at a time to change that anniversary of death into an anniversary of life.

But anyway, about my future nephew's name. My brother had considered the name Nicholas, which I thought would have been perfect, considering the time of year, but he thought that it might be too cliche. So instead, he asked me and my mom what we thought.

I did what any self respecting computer user would do. I googled for baby names. I found a wonderful site called, http://www.babynamesworld.com

I do want to give you a little bit of back story about this though. My brother called me on the last day of April sounding a little bit out of sorts. He said that he was thinking that Mom should come up for a visit. I asked when. He said in about 9 months. My brother was in complete shock. Their twins had just turned 2 years old. So when his wife called and asked when he would be home because she had something to tell him, he knew instantly. While on the phone with me, he missed the exit he was supposed to take to get home, the same one he takes every day. To say he was distracted would be an understatement. He was looking forward to his wife getting back to work when the kids were in school the next year. But this baby had his own timing and that timing was now.

So back to babynamesworld.com. Mom and I found a great name in the "a" section that means "Navy Blue." That is a very strong and masculine meaning. And when you say the name, it is quite possibly the first utterance my brother made upon hearing that his wife was pregnant. You'll have to click the hyperlink because this is a purely rated G blog. Let me tell you this though, you have not lived until you have heard my saintly 70-year-old mother read this name and cackle uproariously afterwards.

Peace out.