Sigh.

A nice cozy Sunday listening to my seven year old tunelessly singing along to her new Disney sing-it for the wii.

It's kind of my definition of a perfect Sunday except for the Honey being stuck at work and no Big O.

I am a fairly laid back parent. I don't do hysteria and drama. So my reaction caught me of guard when the Ex told me he was at the Urgent Care with Big O. He's got the flu. Yeah, the Dr. at the clinic says it's probably THE Flu. The Ex said he may as well keep him there to keep it away from Miss Priss and the Elder contingent on our side (Mrs. G & Mama Dina). I appreciate that. But. My boy is sick.


I want him here, logic be damned. The blogosphere is full of horrifying H1N1 stories. Feel better, Bubby. I'm busting the door down if your dad says you're still sick Monday.

I blame Anne Geddes.

I do not have any weird Flemish art in jigsaw puzzle form. Am I depriving my kids? Was this yet another way my parents snuck culture into my life? Because this picture was THE epic jigsaw of my childhood, and one of the measures of how grown up I was...how far could I get before I gave up and put it away for another few years?

Little O (Who turned 7 today, by the way, but I'm ignoring that particular trauma--my baby!) has strawberry shortcake and My Little Pony puzzles, and there is a Baby Bee puzzle from Anne Geddes that still has not been opened, although she is very interested-- for about three minutes.

This concludes my random thought for the day.

Holy Holy Water, Batman!

Yep. It's done.

Little O was entranced by her Rosemary rosary. :)

Her padrinos got a band. Technically, there were TWO bands. Insane!

I thik a good time was had by all, although I am still deaf in one ear from the band. Next up? Halloween!

Cowbell, or Jellyfish? I also need a smoking jacket for the Honey, who will be going as the devil. I got him some great horns...

I'm crazy. That's why.

Little O is finally getting baptized.

It has blown up to a huge party thing, from a simple sprinkling of holy water and some lunch with her padrinos afterward.

I apparently hurt the feelings of Favorite sister in law by not choosing her to be the godmother.

I told Little O that she is going to start going to church and her face just crumpled. Since I hadn't imagined she'd have any objection, I was *ahem* taken aback at her reaction...was I raising the devil child?

"What's wrong, baby?"

"Mama, church is in SPANISH. I don't understand it."

Poor baby. We always take the Honey's mom for high holy days, and it IS always in Spanish. I explained that she could go to the English services, and she cheered right up.

But her baptism will be in Spanish. I don't think their priest speaks more than a few words in English. I wish Father Dan were here. He could do it in Spanish AND English--but I think he would make us do the whole classes thing. He was my friend Leisa's priest, and he agreed with me back in the day that you don't do the wink-wink kind of thing in God's house. I knew Big O's dad wasn't taking him to church, so why would I lie and say we were going to raise him as a Catholic?

Little O is going to have to go to church regularly. I will get her dressed up and delivered to Sunday school at least twice a month. In the wonderful world of Mexican Catholicism, that will be plenty. If we hurry with the catechism classes she can wear the same dress for confirmation. :)

Big O was in another quinceanera a few weeks ago, and I picked up the caterer's card. Little O saw it and leaned over to me and said,

"Mama, did you get their card so we can call them for MY quinceanera?"

Oh, sweet pea, you have so many dreams for me to crush...