Three things

How I wish I could get back into the regular swing of blogging.  However, life has been so full of family life - births, deaths, sicknesses, meetings, crises and food preparation.  Constant food preparation.  It's all good, just full.  Nevertheless, life is still just as humorous and it's this that I most regret not recording.  So, in an effort to remember these years, here are three things.

1.  Isaac stayed home from school on this the first day of school following March Break.  He achieved this by rising from bed and promptly lying down at my feet in the kitchen while crying that he was just too tired to attend classes.  Hannah rolled her eyes and said, "Don't fall for it, Mom."  Mostly out of fatigue and Catholic homeschooling guilt, I folded like a deck of cards, and Isaac was called in as absent.  Immediately his energy returned to normal and he pursued his day off.   His first task was to construct a trap across the bathroom door made entirely of dental floss.  This looks much like you are envisioning - a dental web at shin level.  I discovered it when his younger sister called from her perch that she needed a wipe.  Luckily, I wasn't as unsuspecting as Isaac hoped, and was able to circumnavigate the booby-trapped washroom.  Ben later pretended not to know about the trap and Isaac squealed with delight, "Yes!  It worked!"

2.  When I woke up from my afternoon nap, I found Isaac and Sarah watching YouTube tutorials on the TV.  The sound was muted (more because they still have no idea how to control volume rather than a desire to hide TV use) and they were completely engrossed in a tutorial on making Disney princesses out of play dough.  "Please, " Isaac begged, "I need this for my birthday."  I promised him that he would receive this for his sixth birthday.  Fortunately, his birthday is in August and his memory is short.

3.  As soon as the kids arrived home from school, Isaac and Sarah headed out to the driveway where I found them wearing hockey helmets and taking turns riding the double stroller down the driveway stopping only feet from the road.  When I protested, Isaac told me that I was not to worry as they knew where the brakes were.

Baptism, finally

Choice is crippling.  This is especially true when one's choice is between many mediocre options.  In this case, Mariana's baptism was well documented:  many, many photos.  It's just that those photos are not of the best quality:  grainy, blurry, iPad-dy, lowlight sort of photos.  She was baptized on December 28th ... two months ago.  I was so crippled by choice (and lack of sleep and hands) that I am only now blogging this momentous occasion.  p.s.  Lest you think she has deep brown eyes like her mother, think again.  She's blue, just like her other six siblings.  I take solace in the fact that all the blue eyes are apparently the same blue as those of my grandfathers.  Weak, weak genes have I.

We have never dressed up this much for a baptism.  I truly don't know why or how I managed to shirt and tie all the boys, but I did.

And, boy, did they look cute.

Sarah is clearly overwhelmed? scandalized? confused? by our super-size Baby Jesus.  See how much bigger he is than the sheep?

Joseph looking after his cousin Clara.  She is so fast that even a camera can't capture her clearly.  Strangely, she looks startlingly like my sister Martha as a toddler.  There is, however, no blood relation.

Clara's mother (and Dave's sister) Julie is Mariana's godmother.  There she is holding the other half of her twins and our goddaughter Chelsea.

Deacon/Dr. Bob MacDonald baptised Mariana.  Our parish priest was in bed with the flu and he sent the good deacon in his stead.  We were very privileged to have him officiate.

Humourously, despite the lack of the parish priest, we had a Madonna House priest on hand.  Fr. Tom Zoeller is Mariana's godfather.  He didn't want to baptize her so that he could be fully present to his role as godpappy.

Jacob and Ben walking Chelsea to the front of the church.

Me holding a soother like it's a cigarette.

Deacon Bob with the newest saint in the family.  Or, rather, the only saint in the family.

Mariana with her godparents.  When I asked Fr. Tom to act as Mariana's godfather, he jumped at the chance and told me that he only has one godchild, his sister.  In his words, "And she's 61!"  I truly thought that a man who is the spiritual director to hundreds would have dozens of godchildren.  But, no!  In fact, he is so happy to have Mariana as his own that he keeps a framed picture of her in his bedroom.

Deacon Bob asked if he could consecrate Mariana to Our Lady.  Mariana laughed at the idea.

The happy family...

...until I gained 20 pounds within the space of two photos.  My Aunt Sandy and my Uncle John (my godparents) came to the baptism, as did Dave's father.  We all went home and had lasagna.  And collapsed.