Make a Mental Note

When it is 5:00 pm and you need to purchase a rosary (and YES, I know you non-Catholics are thrilled by this), head your ass over to the closest Catholic hospital you can find. In our case it was Resurrection Hospital.

But hurry. Because the gift shop closes as 6:00 pm.

Happy Birthday Baby Tera!

And to Her Bad Mother's Sprout too!



Oh, and thank Fun Daddy for not continuing to follow the little old lady driving her 15 years old Oldsmobile the entire way. I might have expired from irritation as she was driving 23 miles an hour in the 35 zone. Ironically, or not perhaps, she pulled into one of the handicapped parking spaces in the hospital parking lot just as we were leaving with our purchase. And yes, I am certain it was the same woman... she had a custom license plate.

Just what I deserve

MonAnge and Imelda go to Catholic school. This I think that you all knew.

But, they also get up at the crack of dawn on Tuesdays to attend a special kind of extracurricular activity. They go to school at 6:45 am for something called Mass Crew. Yes, mes filles get up in the whee hours of the morning to attend mass, adoration, bible talk and breakfast. I know. It is hard to believe that they are my children, isn't it?

This morning as I was driving them to Crew, I was thinking about MonAnge and her endless list of complaints. Her phantom stomach ailment (stress and NOT EATING), grade issues... and I remembered something that my mother used to tell me. And considering where I was driving les filles, I thought I had found a receptive audience.

"Listen girlies," I said to them. "It is going to be a long day and MonAnge? You and particular have been having problems. Now I want you to remember that no matter how much you think y ou are suffering, Jesus suffered more on the cross. So when you are feeling crappy or picked on, take those feelings and offer them to God as a sacrifice."

What a good Catholic mom I am, right?

Instead I got, "Jesus MOM! Since when do you care about religion?"

And she is right. I have no faith. It disappeared years ago. I am going through the motions hoping that the girls have something to help them. And it seems to be working. But for me? Damned if I do. Damned if I don't.

Now of course, I feel compelled to taunt them. I haven't decided which direction to go. Which do you think is the better choice?

The Power of Christ compells you to do your math!
or
Stay out of the fucking cupcakes bitches!

Basketball Jones...

I don't know why... but the games that are the most interesting are the ones that I fail to have a camera present at....

Imelda played two whole quarters. Which is something of a miracle... I have not written about my issues with Imelda's coach.. who believes in winning... even if all the girls don't play. in the 6th grade.

Anyway, this time, she was locked and loaded and they all played beautifully together... and won.

The Angel?

Well despite her assertiveness earlier, she was faced with a girl more assertive than she on the court. In fact, I would say this chicky was half way violent.....

The Angel has a certain advantage with her height. Essentially she is a moving wall of tall power. This girlie was short stock and more aggressive than a Catholic girl was ever meant to be.... and sadly without perspective.

At one point while trying to fake out the Angel she decided to skip the formalities and she conk the Angel in the face.... when the Angel went down? She continued her pass... From then on my Angel was wary.... very wary... by the 3rd quarter there were words exchanged... by the 4th this girl looked ready to throw punches.

The Angel's team lost in the last seconds of the game.

When I asked her about the girl, I got a string of invectives from the Angel (who has apparently inherited my potty mouth and then some) that would make a sailor blush. Yes, this other kid was saying very nasty things and was throwing surreptitious punches.

Yup... nothing like Catholic schoolgirl basketball...

I think next time, I am bringing a helmet for the Angel... she might need it against some of these girls.... Shhesh...

Oh and Chicka.... she can't buy the shorts... they are school issued... blech. Luckily they have been found.

Poppy? You may borrow her at any point. As much as I complain out her, I really did want her to have this much attitude... at 12, it can only be ground out of her by life and the world... so I am not too awfully worried that she will end up a completely inappropriate brat...

And Steve, welcome! Don't sweat it... Poppy and I understand each other... there was no insult to anyone... she knows me more than anyone else in the blogosphere....and trust me... The Angel is at one of those ages where most Moms want to slap the hell out of their daughter's... yet, somehow, we resist... no doubt because we remember being 12 ourselves....

Oh, and as I will prolly be cooking like the wind tomorrow early and drunk later... Happy Thanksgiving!

Six Wineries, A Centennial and a Funeral

It kinda sounds like a movie title, doesn't it?

Well it isn't... it is my month so far.

As mentioned early, I went to my grandmother's birthday party at the beginning of the month. Well, while I was out east I and Fun Daddy and my Dad managed to visit six wineries on the Niagara Escarpment.... yup. That's right... my hometown is now the Napa Valley of Western New York...

Chicka?! How could you fail to mention this development to me? Dang girl!

Naturally we had to partake to the fullest. And I have posted all about it. Just on Vinoverve. Enjoy the posts, really... Fun Daddy is bugging me about readership there...

So... let's see... that was six wineries...

A Centennial is Nanny, obviously. And it was a blast. Of course, like every good celebration in my family, mass was involved. And wow, do we fill a church. Imelda served yet again. This year, though, instead of shadowing another alter server, she filled in for real.. yeah, just like at our church, someone always forgets that they are serving... and the third kid failed to show. So Imelda had to work her away around the alter blindly. But she managed. Because she is a trooper.. A trooper for Christ... (please God, don't strike me dead... I am just trying to amuse my readers.. please?) My cousin, Lisa and Mike's kids brought up the gifts and then, following instructions from Father Joe, went and gave Gram a hug. I think he knows she keeps saying she doesn't want a fuss... and we all know that is just crazy talk.

After mass, we had a lovely reception for the entire community in the church hall. It was hysterical... The Mayor of Lockport or his minion anyway, read a proclamation from the City Council pronouncing October 1, 2007, Celia Beran Day. (he might have said Currie... I am in a mind haze). My Aunt Judy and Uncle Ron were there... as was my cousin Carol and her brood. I haven't seen them in a million years. (Judy and Ron were each individually the best friends of my parents and managed to introduce them... Holy cripes!) My cousin Loretta was there... she took dancing lessons with the evil Margo and I.... she was adorable as always... and her little girl ran like hell around the Church during mass... she was as sweet as co u ld be... only Loretta's daughter could manage to run around all the pews and not interrupt the service with peals of laughter... if you heard any? That was me... But then remember as a toddler I once turned off all the lights in the church.... I have a different way of looking at things....

Ok... This post is amazingly long, so this will need another part... To Be Continued!


Oh, and as a note? Hi Jen! The only cousin that I know who reads this blog! Love you babe!

Just ignore my sense of doom

yes, I can't help it...

I am Irish.

I am Catholic.

I see death and destruction all around me.

I am not Little Miss Sunshine (A movie I loved by the way.... what did people expect the heroin snorting grandpa obsessed with sex to teach his grand daughter... that is all I will say)

That being said, I am not being positive about my first mammogram which will be tomorrow. Mammogram and the Angel's 12th birthday... it seems like worlds are colliding to me...

Oh don't get statistical on me... I know I am a walking time bomb when it comes to breast cancer... I am fat, I drink, I love meat, there is breast cancer on both sides of my family... as my cousin, pointed out to me, I have "excess adipose tissue"... or wait... that is the same as me being fat.

Mostly I think it is the Angel stuff that is getting to me... Lately, she is a soul sucking force in my life... I guess I view the appointment date as a sign...

So... here is my huge paranoid fantasy...

Diagnosed with breast cancer...

Lose both boobs,

Now that cancer deaths are on the decline, chemo and radiation will come to naught... (Oh when I mentioned all of this to Fun Daddy, he declared that dying of cancer in the face of decreased cancer deaths would be ironic.... and not the Alanis Morrisette version of it.. since that song should have been called, Isn't it a bummer.)

The Angel calls me a nasty name on my deathbed,

Imelda complains that I am not doing her homework for her therefore I am not supportive of her schooling..

and as a final blow... Fun Daddy turns mes filles over to his parents to be raised where they become my mother in laws personal bartenders and another "stupid female" foil for my father in law...


Now that I have confessed this fear, it means that it can't happen, right?

And yes, Jim, I am ok... I am just highly paranoid. I will be fine after my birthday... yes, it will take that long.