"Mooooooom, is Mass going to be shorter because it's the summertime?!" Catholic parenting adventures on the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time...

Happy Monday all! You're probably wondering how my dance event went, since I talked about that nervously on Friday, and I promise a full and fun recap tomorrow. Lots of amusing anecdotes! And I have a few photos to share. I thought first I'd talk about the rest of the weekend, as this was a jam packed one for my family! Got your tea or coffee? Let's settle in!

Saturday dawned with Anne's swim lesson on the agenda. Given her reaction last week I was apprehensive, but apparently the allure of the post-swim lesson trip to the vending machine won out, because she happily went and did much better:

Yes, that is her, *actually* following directions and using the kick board!

*organ cues up!*

She did MUCH better, and looked absolutely adorable in her Elsa and Anna bathing suit participating in all of the drills that they did. Ten 4 and 5 year olds clinging to the side of the pool waiting their turn to swim across is a very cute sight indeed. So that worked out awesome.

Saturday afternoon was the artisan market that my troupe danced at, and as promised, a full post on that is coming your way tomorrow. I'll just say that Saturday was one of the hottest and most humid days of the year so far, so let it be known that much discomfort was had by all dancers. But dance on we must!

Saturday evening, Mike, Henry and I had tickets to see our local minor league baseball team play (the Triple-A affiliate for the Toronto Blue Jays, if you are into such things :)), and it was their annual Star Wars night. It sounds like an odd combination, but it really works. People dress up, a special video series plays on the big scoreboard between innings, and the players' photos are substituted for Star Wars characters. After my tiring afternoon of dancing, it was stupendous to relax and enjoy the game, eat a hot dog and have a beer. And they had a craft beer kiosk with a decent selection of local beers. Boom.

After the game, there was a light saber show and fireworks, check this out:

Not a great picture, I know, but it gives you an idea of how many people there were wielding light sabers. All of those blue and red lights in the stands along the side are light sabers. Very, very fun.

Sunday dawned with me looking forward to a quieter day. And for the most part, that happened. Sunday mornings are my favorite of the week, but sometimes the kids make those tough:

"HENRY!!!"

"I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything!"

And that's pretty much what we had going on this particular Sunday morning. Then, when it was time for Mass, Henry claimed to not be feeling good again. Let's insert a groan here, shall we?

Henry is 9, he'll turn 10 this fall. It's the age, right? The age causing the reluctance to go to Mass, because "it's so boring!"? I mean, I know *I* felt that way as a kid, and I guess it was around that age, though it did start younger, which is the case for Henry as well. It's not easy to deal with, but I do my best. And happily, this is another instance of Mike being super supportive and backing me up about Henry attending. Per the two of us as a united front, Henry *will* go to Mass. But it certainly makes me feel bad when Henry expresses these things, and I wonder about the best want to handle it. Suggestions?

Given that Henry's "ailment" came on so suddenly, he did not get excused from Mass. He came with us, and very unhappily so. Much whining and complaining in the car commenced. Luckily, our parish is only a few minute drive away, so my torture did not last long. When we arrived, after an excruciating extraction from the car, Henry was fine. He was polite and even reverent. But then Anne kicked in.

Children's Liturgy of the Word is on hiatus for the summer, so she's with us the entire time.

*weak smile*

The INSTANT our butts hit the pew:

"Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom."

"Honey, we just got here. Can't you..."

"I can't wait, Mommy."

*universal Dance of the Pee Pee*

*sigh*

To the bathroom we go, TRIP 1 OF 2.

uggghhhhhhh....

Thereafter commenced 45 minutes of jumping, wiggling, climbing and all around non-stop activity that drained me of any scrap of energy I had left.

So, you could say that it wasn't one of our easiest weeks at Mass. :) But we persevere! For those of you out there with suggestions on how to tackle this issue of kids not wanting to go to Mass, I'm all ears. Let's discuss in the comments!

"Ow, what is that horrible pain behind my eyeball?": A Catholic Librarian July weekend of traumatizing first swim lessons and last chance Masses...

Well, happy beginning of the week to all of you, and I hope that you are well! I had a really, really nice weekend, if a bit more adventuresome than I was planning. What did that all entail, you reasonably ask? Grab your beverage, let's settle in:

Again, that's not what I'm drinking right now, but it's what I was drinking Saturday evening, and that spills over into a part of the story Sunday morning that gets a little bit embarrassing. :0 But that's what I'm here for, right? Entertainment for you all by my own somewhat ill advised foibles. Let's start back on Friday evening, since that is when all the fun began...

*soundtrack begins playing in the background*

Speaking of which, I wish I had a soundtrack, just like in the movies. It would make the mundane parts of my life seem so much more interesting and dramatic, but I digress. Friday evening I had dance rehearsal, and as expected, things were good-naturedly intense as we ran through our set for this coming weekend's performance, plus shook the dust off a few choreographies that we'll using for the following weekend's festival. Everything went well, but I discovered that executing Isis wing-laden barrel turns when you're nearly 5'7" isn't such a good idea with a drop ceiling looming overhead. Thankfully, nobody was hurt. :0

We have one more rehearsal this coming Friday before the performance Saturday, and it looks like the solos will fit into the set, so I just sent Claire my music. Eek!

I dance best when I don't think about it too deeply beforehand, so let's move on. ;-) Saturday morning I traveled with Anne to our local YMCA for her very first swim lesson. Anne was sporting her new Elsa and Anna bathing suit and was very enthusiastic about getting into the pool. Until we got there, that is.

As I was strapping on her flotation device, I had a bit of a sinking sensation. She had The Face, kwim?

"Mommy, I don't want to go swimming."

"It's going to be OK, Sweetie! It'll be fun! See how the other children are all getting into the water?"

"But I DON'T WANT TO, Mommy."

There was much resistance. There was much coaxing of small bodies into the water. There was much clinging to the side of the pool, eyes wide with terror.

"You're doing great, Sweetie! Try to pay attention to the teacher."

I glance down at my phone to answer a text.

"Mom." Henry is beside me. "Anne started crying."

Ugh.

The instructor swam over to try and convince Anne to make a pass across the shallow end with the kick board. Let's just say that didn't go over very well.

It was a long 30 minutes, and I retrieved her trembling form from the water and quickly engulfed her in a towel.

"Next week will be a little easier, Darling. Let's head to the girls locker room to change."

"NO!"

Who here is surprised?! You're obviously new to this blog. ;-) Welcome!

The changing room situation was offered up to get quite a few souls out of Purgatory, I'm thinking, and by the time I had wrenched her clothes onto her damp body she was declaring that she was never coming back.

Fabulous.

Henry, however, saved the day. When he first suggested the ridiculously priced vending machine I was skeptical, but I will say that Anne immediately stopped crying, and they bonded over choosing what to get. After that, she was fine, and said she would try again next week. I'll take it, and it only cost me $2.

Saturday evening we had a cookout with some friends who live on the next block. They have 4 children, and another couple was there with their son who is Henry's age, so we had a nice little gaggle of children to play together. Anne and their youngest daughter, I swear it, look like twins:

Anne and her doppelganger assessing each other

They hung out together nicely, along with the other girls, and we just made sure we had the right little brunette with us when we left to go home. :) As for the adults, we hung out by the side of the pool munching, chatting and having drinks. That's when I drank the Chardonnay pictured above. And I really didn't drink that much.

*famous last words*

When out having drinks with others, I usually have 1-2 drinks. Saturday evening I had a bit more than 2. OK, nearly 3. :) But it's not like I was drinking out of a glass the size of a fountain, it was a small white wine glass. And I also ate dinner.

Flash forward to Sunday morning, 5:30 am. Hark! Why am I awake?!

Well, it's because my head is THROBBING, that's why. I change positions and hope that that will help. It does not. I kind of cuddle my left temple into my pillow, hoping THAT will help. It does not. See the theme here?

I get up, swallow an ibuprofen, and go back to bed. I toss and turn and accidentally wake Mike up. We both drift back off...

7:30 am. Hark! Why am I awake?! Well, because both children are now up and being noisy. And Mike is getting out of bed. Oh, thanks be to God, my head feels decidedly less bad. Let me get up too...

Oh dear. A distinctive nauseous feeling pervades my being that I have only experienced once before, and vowed would never happen again. Apparently, I don't learn lessons very well. Oh that's right, I already knew that. *sigh*

I laid down again and pondered my fate. I didn't drink *that* much wine, but I wasn't also drinking water or another non-alcoholic beverage, and that was my fatal mistake. Dehydration. It's good that I have this lesson more firmly tucked into the front of my brain, but it wasn't making me any less miserable as I lay there. Mike was downstairs getting breakfast for himself and Henry, not yet realizing my situation. I managed to make my way into Anne's room and get her up. She didn't make things easy and refused all of the outfits I presented, and I was in no condition to wrangle her. I left her to dress herself, and she actually did it. God is merciful.

I laid for about 30 minutes and then was able to go downstairs and have some water and coffee. But by this point it was nearly 9 am and something was becoming alarmingly clear: I still felt awful and was in no condition to take the kids to 10 am Mass. Because I had a hangover.

Mother of the Year, right over here. Don't I get something special from Things Remembered to commemorate this occasion?

It was mild as far as hangovers go, but all the same. Henry was also faring poorly, having a bad sinus issue unfolding, poor kid. I watched TV with the kids as we all took it easy and Mike worked on his lesson plans. I drank my coffee and knit. By about 11 am, I was feeling a lot better. Henry was still looking peaked and stayed home with Mike, but I made myself presentable and took Anne to noon Mass with me. It was lovely, and I felt even more grateful than usual to be there. :)

Later, I worked on a cowl using some new silk yarn that I recently procured from Expression Fiber Arts with the delightfully titled colorway "Twilight Under the Stars":

Isn't it magnificent? A perfect late summer colorway, if you ask me. Aside from the self-inflicted morning situation ;-) Sunday was beautiful. Mass, then meal planning with Mike for the week, then dinner out with the whole family for sandwiches and ice cream, and then a movie with Mike and Henry while I knit. Life is good.

How was YOUR weekend, dear reader? Do tell me all about it. :)

Of firework frights, summer hats, & pool-related tantrums: an Independence Day journey with the Catholic Librarian family...

Well, HELLO THERE, you dear reader, you! I have missed you.

*hug!*

I had quite the busy weekend, and I imagine you did as well. I'd love to hear about your weekend, and I'll also tell you about mine. So why don't you settle in with your beverage and we'll chronicle together, shall we?

Well, OK, that's not what I'm drinking NOW, at 11 am, but it was what I was drinking Sunday night while watching the FIFA Women's World Cup championship game with Mike and Henry after a super long weekend with the youngest member of our clan. OK truth? I had TWO. It really wasn't that bad, just long, did I mention that?

Let's start back on Thursday night because, for unfathomable reasons, that's when our town did fireworks. Being only July 2nd, it seemed rather early to me, but we went with the flow, and for the first time we brought Anne. This meant keeping her up for an excruciating 2.5 hours past her usual bedtime, but we were strong.

Mike and Tiffany: 1
Children, led by Anne the Crankinator: 0

Both children were somewhat surly by our designated departure time, but again, we persevered. Finding a parking spot was a near occasion of sin, but we managed. We trekked to the community field.

Both kids relaxed then since they could run around a bit. The fireworks began. Anne immediately jumped into my lap and covered her ears.

"Mommy, this is SO LOUD!"

She refused to budge for the duration, cutting off circulation in my arms.

Oy.

The fireworks were lovely, and even traumatized Anne seemed glad that she went. But I was just relieved that it was over. :)

Friday? Let's just say Friday wasn't a good day. The kids fought the entire day, ruined a lunch out at a local restaurant, and generally made the adults miserable.

Mike and Tiffany: 1
Children, led by Anne the Instigator: 1

I drowned my sorrows in my knitting, and finished a brightly hued hat for myself:

I will grant, it's not exactly hat weather right now, but I know I'll be very grateful for these efforts come fall. ;-) I also crocheted a hat for my nephew, and I'm hoping it won't be too big for his little head:

Naturally, Anne refused to try it on, which would have been super helpful since she's only a year older than aforementioned nephew. Some battles, however, just aren't worth fighting.

Saturday was a better day, capped off by Mike and I enjoying some film noir that TCM is showing this summer. The night drew darker and the film noir happily creepier, when suddenly:

"What was that? Is that Anne?!"

Why yes, yes it was. Wide awake, standing up on her bed and watching fireworks out her window at 10 pm. Suddenly, she wasn't scared by the noise anymore, just fascinated "by all of the pretty colors, Mommy!"

Mike and Tiffany: 1
Anne the Sleep Shunner: 2

It took some doing to get her back to sleep. Thus, guess who was super grumpy just in time for Mass the next morning?

"Anne, you can't lift your dress up in public, Honey, come sit down on the pew with me."

"NO!"

*long suffering sigh*

Mike and Tiffany: 1
Anne the Grumptopus: 3

After Mass, both children and I lit one of the new candles at our parish. Due to cost of the traditional wax candles, a decision was made to replace them with battery-operated candle-like cousins. I don't dispute that cost is an issue for the parish, certainly, but I have to admit that lighting one of these "candles" is rather anti-climactic:

"Go ahead and put the money in, Honey. Right there, you may have to fold it up."

*Henry complies*

"OK, now I think you just...push the button?"

*Henry pushes*

"Did you...Oh. Yeah, I guess it's that one."

We all look forlornly at the now "flickering" electronic candle. Not nearly so symbolic as lighting the little wood stick from one of the other candles and setting your chosen candle aflame, the smoke rising to heaven. Bummer.

The rest of Sunday was quite lovely, if a bit action-packed. The four of us loaded up and headed about 20 minutes north to visit and have a cook out with my parents. We arrived in the late afternoon, and the instant we got in the door, the children wanted IN THE POOL. And pools with kids are, you know, a bit of an entity. There's the swimsuit tugging on process, the application of sunscreen amidst a chorus of protestations, and the inevitable "I have to go PEE!" the moment everyone is in the pool and soaking wet.

If Anne goes in the pool, that means that I must go in the pool too, and I don't really love going in pools. My current bathing suit was purchased, no lie, LAST CENTURY, and while it still fits, it's seen better days. I'd much rather sit by the side of the pool sipping a cold beverage, but such is my lot in life with a 4 year old right now. Mike always gamely gets in to roughhouse with Henry, so I took on Anne. Immediately, it was clear that my little swim session would be anything but relaxing.

Anne had on brand new water wings, but decidedly did NOT take to them. She instantly suctioned her little body to mine and hung on like a koala, complaining the whole while. We remained in that position for quite some time before she finally worked up the courage to branch out a bit. By the time I was feeling wrinkly and ready to get out, she was in full on pool mode and did not want to evacuate. My dad stayed with her so that the rest of us could eat, and even after that spell there was distinct reluctance. She sat with her feet in the water and generally splashed around on the stairs until it was time to go, and then:

"Anne, we have to leave now, Sweetie."

"NEVER!"

Her sundress-laden countenance was all Defiant, Sanctimonious Sass.

This was quickly remedied by Mike scooping her up against her will, skinny little legs and tiny feet kicking over his shoulder the whole while.

Mike and Tiffany: 2
Anne the Sassinator: 3

And then we come to the small side hallway where we were all jammed in, attempting to put on our sandals and say goodbye to my parents. I have to say, at the expense of my poor, cute husband, that this was my favorite part of the weekend. I can't remember the last time I laughed this hard...

Seated on the stairs in the hallway we have Henry. His thought bubble reads as follows:

"I haven't stopped talking for the past 20 minutes, but that won't stop me from asking a series of new questions about all of the stuff that is piled in this hallway! Hey, what's this?! It's a big, interesting-looking bottle with an enticing spray valve! I'm asking what this is, but before anyone can possibly answer, I'm going to hold it up and press it really, really hard!!"

Standing in the middle of the hallway we have adorable Mike, fielding a stream of questions from Henry, and momentarily distracted by Anne throwing her sandal in protest of her pool-abandoning fate:

"What did you say, Henry? Anne, you have to put on your..."

*long, distinctive squirting sound*

He is cut off by an absolute CLOUD that has descended over the hallway, the epicenter of which is approximately his mouth. I'm standing at the top of the stairs with my parents trying to wrangle Anne into submission and I glance up to see Mike coughing and looking stunned. The offending spray that has currently robbed him of his ability to breathe?

Febreze. Henry had just Febrezed him right in the face.

I don't know that I would have handled the situation nearly as well as he did, because the rest of us started laughing so hard we were soon crying. There was something about that moment of Henry innocently holding up that can and poor Mike practically choking on aerosol odor eliminator that was ridiculously hilarious.

Mike, looking amused, and luckily with no loss of vision :0, recovered and was a heck of a good sport about the whole thing. I encouraged him to go outside and air out while I got Anne's sandals on. The entire 20 minute ride home I couldn't stop snickering, my eyes tearing up, as the overpowering scent of wildflowers permeated our car.

And then we went home, tossed Anne into bed, and drank a LOT of beer. Community Beer Works American Brown Ale, to be exact. Full circle right there, people!!

So, that was my weekend. It had it's ups and downs, but with my Mike by my side, all is always well. How was YOUR weekend, dear reader? Do write in to tell me all about it!