Ammended Swag, Awesome Cookies

I had to ammend the swag bags for the teachers. Although I worked tirelessly for a few days in Microsoft Publisher on a little summer booklet, I didn't get the chance to print or assemble. Instead, I had to make cookies. Not for the bags. For the bake sale. The last 5th grade service project of the year.

Evidently the notice of the bake sale/service project came home over a week ago, but Andrew has already entered the middle school twilight zone and isn't so great about passing along important school information anymore. This notice made it clear that the 5th grader should make the bake sale item,supervised, but on his own, and was due in school on Thursday morning.

I love to cook and am pretty good at it most of the time. But baking? I'd say I'm more hit than miss. I'm just not good with the details and the specifics of a cake or cookie recipe. I'm fine with a box mix, but even those final products tend to suck when compared to something that Eric does with flour and sugar and a rolling pin. He's the baker in this house, FOR SURE!! Let me just offer up this photo of the cake Eric made for Adrienne's 5th birthday and then his follow up for the 6th.

Wednesday morning at breakfast when Andrew finally remembers the bake sale and remembers to pass along the information and requirements, I immediately think this task is perfect to pawn off on Daddy. Afterall, he is the baker. Let him do a school project for once.

I love Eric. He's a great dad and very involved, but let's face it: most (strike that--ALL) school projects always fall on me. I'm the one filling pop bottles with rice and spray painting the syrofoam ball/head to create an Abraham Lincoln. Or I'm the one who searches all over town for a rubber guinea pig that JUST HAS to go in Andrew's book report diorama. The things we've done this year with shoe boxes, tri-fold posterboards, and artist's pastels is mind boggling to me.

For a non-crafty person its very stressful to have to rise to such achievement with rubber cement and construction paper. But don't get me wrong, I am happy doing it. It's part of the mommy gig. But given the chance to be off the hook for one thing? I'll take it.

Then I remembered that Eric works most evenings. He sees patients from 2pm -7pm which pretty much rules out any baking in the evening. And since Andrew really gave no advance notice on this thing, I've got to be the one. As usual, it's me--all me.

My plan was to have Andrew do the majority of the baking. I'd just supervise and maybe with that arrangement we'd actually end up with an edible baked good. But then Andrew arrived home from school on Wednesday with a soar throat and a weird rash on his chest. He was in bed by 7pm and I was left to my own devices with the cookies.

I would have been much more comfortable assembling the summer booklets for the teacher appreciation swag bags. Actually, I was feeling a bit more than bitter that Eric was working, Andrew had gone to bed and I was left with a baking project when I'd rather be working on a paper project of my own creation. And in sulking about that, I decided to make labels for our cookie bags first. I named us THE HOUSE OF HEIN BAKERY and gave us this cute little house logo.

When finished with the printed labels for my cookie bags, I had primed the creative pump and was ready to bake. I decided on sugar cookies because not only did they appear to be the quickest cookie to bake, but the ingredient list and instructions were also the shortest.

I channelled my "patience is a virtue" gene and took my time--assembling wet ingredients in one bowl, dry in the other, then merging only when advised by the recipe. I beat the batter for exactly the right amount of time and followed every instruction to the letter, including cookie size and bake time.

The end result actually turned out pretty good. I thought my cookies were very tasty--not too sweet, but with the perfect "not too soft not too hard" texture. I won't be baking at Christmas side by side with Eric the baker-extroadinaire, but these sugar cookies I whipped up were perfect for the bake sale.

On Thursday morning, Andrew was pleased with the packaging and seemed moderately impressed with the cookie itself. He liked the texture, although he commented that he would have liked to taste the cookie right out of the oven to be sure he liked them. I did feel a bit stung by that comment, but it's baking we're talking about. I took it in stride.

Yesterday after school, the kids told me that THE HOUSE OF HEIN BAKERY sugar cookies were the first to go. I did package three cookies to a bag for 50 cents to ensure value, but I also thought a high quantity to low price ratio would ensure sales and give my cookies a perceived popularity that I might not have other obtained in a taste test.

This week has been busy, but chock full of success. And for my self-evaluation of this weeks' tasks? I'd have to say, "She shoots, she scores!" Enjoy your holiday weekend!

Nothing like a little swag...

One of my favorite things to do, buy, and put together is a gift bag.

When my kids were in preschool, you should have seen the treat bags I did for holiday parties at school or for birthday parties here at home. It is a shame that I never took a picture or even saved one of my creations to show here. I guess you'll just have to trust me when I say that I really missed my calling as a SWAG BAG GODDESS.

This year's recipients of the ultimate swag from the Hein's are the teachers at the kids' school. Since we are jumping ship and heading towards public education in the fall, I wanted to give something fun and special to the women who spend seven hours a day dedicated to making my kids smarter, more productive, better citizens.

As a teacher myself, I love summer vacation and I'm an expert chilling out. I love a good book, an occassional ice cream cone, a big glass of iced tea, and a funky tote of HUGE proportions to carry everything I need to take off on an adventure at a moment's notice. So that was the inspiration for these cute little generic tote bags I DIY'd and filled with summer stuff.

First, I have good IDEAS, but I am not CRAFTY. That usually handicaps me when I have these projects in mind, but it also gets my mind working for ways around sewing, drawing, and other such skills I don't possess.

If I was Oprah, I would have bought really cool Lands End totes with names embroidered on them, but I am not Oprah so my budget limited me to Michael's. The bags were $4.99 and the iron-on decal was $3.99. I chose GREEN messages for the totes which meant the ink was soy ink (as oppossed to what? I have no idea other than the fact that the ink must be chemical). I had a terrible time getting the decal onto the bag. I used the iron at the wool setting as advised AND I used the cotton press cloth, as advised. It took about 20 minutes to finally get the image on the tote. That was difficult, but in the end, cute, cute, cute!!

Inside the bag, I added these items:

A travel-sized sun screen and bug spray along with a to-go tumbler (bpa free, dishwasher safe, and no sweat exterior!) and a box of individual servings of lemonade. I included a book (depending on the teacher) and a $10 gift certificate to Dairy Queen.

The Happy Book is a worth a look if you are not familiar with it. It is a great gift for almost any occassion. I like to give it for 40th birthdays (there are ton of those going on around here) wrapped up in a box with a boat-load of Smarties candies or a jar full of gummy bears. That will make anyone feel special and young at heart.

But if The Happy Book isn't appropriate for your teachers (and it certainly didn't fit everyone on my list), I also did Puzzle books like this one:

And even one of random acts of kindness like this one:

If I were Oprah, my teacher swag bag would also include a monogrammed beach towel, a cool pair of Marc Jacobs sunglasses, and a gift certificate for a pedicure. But again... I'm not Oprah. And lucky for me, these teachers are not me. Unlike me, they don't care about Marc Jacobs sunglasses. They are grateful and humble and awesome human beings who will definitely appreciate the bug spray when the total bug-o-rama begins in the heat of July.

And I'm sure these teachers that spent the school year assigning DIY state reports and book reports will LOVE and appreciate the "summer booklet" I made in Microsoft Publisher which includes directions on how to play Flashlight tag, words to two jump rope songs, and a recipe for barbeque chicken and homemade ice cream (post photo here).

Gift giving makes me so happy and I am super excited to end Teacher Appreciation Week on Friday with these gifts for the teachers and staff at my kids' school.

A little green with envy...

“Start a blog” is on my MONDO BEYONDO list.

One of my friends wrote me over the weekend, suggesting I cross this creation off the list and feel happy that I’ve accomplished something here—on the road to making my dreams come true. I agreed in my return email, but feel that I need to clarify “Start a blog” for all of you. My wish or goal with starting a blog is a bit more loaded than just starting.
Let me begin with a little back-story…

There are several blogs that I read on a regular basis (Superhero Journal, Jen Lemon, What Kate Did Next, tam.me, Orangette, and Ali Edwards)

But there is ONE in particular that I LOVE: Planting Dandelions.

Formerly known as “Notes to Self.” I found this blog about five years ago, evidently when the writer, Kyran Pittman, had just gotten it off the ground. From her home in Little Rock, Arkansas, Kyran wrote about her daily thoughts on marriage, children, financial insecurity, family, writing, laundry—you name it. If it was on her mind, she wrote it down eloquently and with humor and optimism. I was in the same boat with marriage, children, and laundry. I read her experiences with a nod of the head as if they were my own because quite honestly I was living almost the same life behind another computer. It felt reassuring.

I was especially tickled when Kyran got picked up by Good Housekeeping magazine. In her first assignment, she wrote a feature about how realistic (or NOT!) it is to wear expensive, designer clothes when you are a mom in a little town on a shoestring budget. GH flew Kyran to New York where she was fitted with a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes, a Burberry raincoat, a pair of Prada pants, and a big ass Louis Vuitton bag. At home in Little Rock, she test drove the couture and wrote a charming article about her experience with it. I got such a kick out of her perspective and her writing that I bought 12 copies of the magazine and distributed them to my friends, telling all of them the story of finding her on-line and then seeing her in the pages of a magazine that I love, writing about something I could totally relate to.

I was in grad school at the time and struggling with my creative voice. And although I was writing every day, Kyran was living the writing life I wanted. Exhausted by my memoir project in class, feeling too spent to let my hair down on a blog, I often times let Kyran’s writing speak for me by sending HER posts to friends and family with emails that just said, “DITTO!”

At one point, I got the chance to meet Kyran at a blogging conference in Houston (February 2009) where she talked about scoring a regular spot with Good Housekeeping AND landing a book deal(Planting Dandelions). She was just as nice in person as she is on the screen.

I thought meeting her might turn me into a "fan" but I have to admit that I don’t read her as often as I used to. And eventhough I have her book, I’ve put it at the bottom of my pile.

I decided to out myself on this one. I have to admit that I am fighting a bit of jealousy. Pure and simple. It has been difficult for me to look at Kyran’s journey over the last five years, to see her successful results, and not think, “why didn’t I do that?”

It is also on my MONDO BEYONDO list to write a book. But more than being on the list, that dream is part of my soul. That desire invades my dreams, wakes me up at night, waits for me at times when I have nothing to do or when I’m exceedingly busy. No matter the day, time, or circumstance, I want to express myself in words, tell my stories, more than I allow myself that opportunity. It’s hard to face someone like Kyran who put the excuses aside and found the time and the voice to make it happen.

In one of Kyran’s posts, shortly after the 2009 conference when all her news was hitting her blog, lots of readers wrote to her and asked for her “secret to success”—how did this happen to you and not to my friend or etc… people actually wrote things like that to her. I remember her response was that every person gets “there” (wherever that is) on their own time. She recalled stories of spending plenty of time camped out in Barnes and Noble feeling jealous and envious of authors and wondering if it would ever happen to her. Her advice? Be true to your voice. Make time for your craft every day. Believe in yourself. When you roll all those things together, something will surely happen.

I am trying to keep her words in mind this week when I have to choose between blogging and working on my memoir project and dinner or laundry or parenting stuff or even wifely duties.

Another thing I shouldn’t dismiss is this: When I “discovered” Kyran’s blog I was on my own path to completing my master’s degree and becoming a professor. It has been a HUGE accomplishment and a journey more than worthy of celebrating. It’s just that I’m not yet willing to mark off “Start a blog” from my MONDO BEYONDO list just because I’m here more regularly than I’ve ever been before. I feel as if there are greater things for me to discover here and maybe even a chance to merge my kids and my writing together.
 

Mondo Beyondo List: updated from my previously lame bucket list post

Ok, ok, ok…
The responses to my bucket list post have been overwhelming. Mostly friends and family are disappointed in my list telling me, “You can do better than that.” Assaults on my imagination have been plentiful.

As I’ve been defending myself with lame excuses (the most popular one being that I wrote the post quickly), I’ve realized that not digging deep into myself comes across as inauthentic and shallow. I’m grateful for the lesson about my own writing that I’m getting today from all of you.

You are all right: I can do better. Recently I completed the Mondo Beyondo class about dreaming big, designed by Jen Lemen and Andrea Scher . The main goal of the class to learn how to identify what you want in life then learn to see the path that connects you to those things. From the very beginning, we work with a bucket list. Not a wimpy bucket list of resolutions that anyone could write, but a MONDO BEYONDO list—stuff that is “off the charts” if you live your life within limits and with rules, but that is otherwise (if you believe in magic and karma and mojo and whatever else describes the collective energy of the universe) totally possible if you just "put it out there."

One of the steps in creating the list, after you have finally broken rules and truly created a MONDO BEYONDO, is to put it away for a few days and forget about it. But ultimately, the list is supposed to be posted, publicized, and shared. How else do really cool things happen to you if nobody knows what you want except you?

It will surprise none of you (the five that I know read this) that I was happy to put my MONDO BEYONDO list in an envelope and hide it away. I did get it back it out when asked by the workshop to do so, but I didn’t post it or share it with anyone.

I have this weird hang up/guilt about asking for anything from this world. I feel blessed by what I have and don’t feel that I’ve adequately thanked the right people and done all the work that I can do to give back for what I have. My therapist friend thinks I need to make an appointment with her (or more professionally correct, to make an appointment with someone else in her field) to GET OVER IT!!! She claims my outlook is a way of blocking myself from truly living. Not to mention that saying, “I’ve got enough, thanks!” is lame and is basically admitting to the world that I am not worthy of good things happening to me.

I have to admit that it does make me a bit uncomfortable to expose my wishes, dreams, and goals for this stage of my life. I don’t know why. When I read the postings of several others in the class at the same time, the idea of feeling nervous about making wishes known consistently showed up on everyone else’s blog. Wherever that angst comes from, for now, I’ll throw it to the wind and share my MONDO BEYONDO list, anyway. Here goes…
--Write a book
--Own a house on the beach
--Give a TED talk
--Meet Ellen Degeneres and become her friend
--Travel with my husband and kids to: Egypt, Galapagos Islands, Italy, Greece, and Spain
--Take a road trip in an RV
--Spend the spring in Hilton Head
--Find a best friend
--Create a really cool blog
--Create a cool blog with my kids that includes video and photography
--Learn video and photography skills for the internet
--Make it to my 100th birthday
--Win the lottery
--Learn to speak Spanish or French
--Learn to speak and write the truth
--Learn to trust my intuition
--Continue practicing yoga (and practicing and practicing!)
--Create time in my schedule for a few moments of contemplative meditation
--Meet some of my favorite writers: Barbara Kingsolver, Ann Patchett, Joan Dideon
--Meet some of my favorite authors: Maya Angelou, Jane Yolen,
--Meet Jen Lemen and Andrea Sher of Mondo Beyondo
--Work with a writing mentor (Hey, Abigail Thomas!)
--Go to a movie premier
--Spend a week at Miraval spa
--Go on a writing retreat (one with other writers and one all alone)
--Spend more time writing and creating
--Keep the flow of inspiration coming
--Take a dance lesson (or two) with Wade Robson
--Take cooking lessons
--Stay true to my sense of adventure
--Document my life
--Become my healthiest self
--Smile and laugh daily
--Stop fighting with time each day, month, year: “being” in the moment is just fine.
--Believe in myself

That’s it for now. As always, send me your thoughts either through facebook or my home email. You all know how to get me. If anyone else randomly found me and wants to comment, send your thoughts to heindena(at) gmail(dot) com. Thanks.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle, but with a shopping twist

Dear Robin,
Today I've been thinking about money and I've been feeling guilty about wasting it. I don't mean that I throw money out the window of my car when I'm driving, but maybe metaphorically that's what I'm talking about. When given the choice, I spend over save. And even more disappointing to me today is the realization that I buy stuff over experience.

It was another cloudy and cold day in Chicagoland (of course!) and maybe that is part of what had me pacing around the house, finding faulty with everything and beating myself up over as many things as I could think up. Or maybe it was the five trash bags heaped in a pile in the middle of my bedroom floor.

A few days ago I cleaned out my closet. When I was done, I had this HUGE pile of shirts/tops/sweaters I never wear, purses that have lost their gusto and jeans that no longer fit. There were belts and scarves, shoes and dresses, coats and bathing suits, yoga pants, and even underwear and bras. TOO MUCH STUFF!!

When most people clean out their closets or their homes, it seems reasonable that their stuff would be old or overly used, breaking down, perhaps. However, my pile only contained a small percentage of items that could be classified as old or overly used. Most of my stuff is still in good condition.
A small portion of the pile is not my size right now. My little booty is a little bigger, which for the most part, is a good thing, but has left me with a pile of expensive designer jeans that I can't do anything with but feel guilty about getting rid of. In short fits of mania I look at those expensive jeans and feel happy that some other 4'11" person might be out there shopping at Goodwill and feel more than elated at finding 15 pairs of jeans all in a size 25 and all hemmed to the perfect 4'11" person length, but then feeling guilty again that I could have bought my family a trip to Mexico with that kind of investment.

I just feel as if my priorities are out of whack. It was fine when I was 25 years old, single, and working crazy hours to own outfits for all occasions. But now in my forties, with kids and a very limited social calendar, I just can’t justify 15 pairs of jeans and 9 “special occasion” sparkly tops.

I was going to write that I’m not wreckless about shopping but after reading this I wonder if I am.

I should add this to my bucket list. What should I call it? “Stop the Madness”? “Curb the fabric consumption”? Or “Right the Wrongs of my Spending Ways”? Maybe the tried and true “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle”?

Whatever I call it, it needs to start soon because this is one of those things that creeps into my dreams at night and giving me a headache during the day. I’d say there’s no bigger sign from the universe than invading anxiety to make one recognize an “issue.” OK—I get it. I need to cut back on the Seven jeans and the trips to Nordstrom. No more shoes, no more dresses, just because.

What I need is a good spanking from Suze Orman or a good talking to by a financial guru. I’d much rather have experiences than a new pair of shoes. And so today it begins…

Bucket List

I went to a party last night at the neighbor’s (very fun, btw) and my friend Chris told a story about zip lining in Montana with her high school friends on a girls’ weekend trip. She was hilarious about this story because she was so petrified of the height of the line and the safety (or her perceived lack thereof) in the “checks” on the equipment that was nonchalantly and quickly performed by college guys who seemed a little too blasé about the whole thing.

Most of us standing around listening were envious of the experience, but she said she would have been much happier sitting at the bottom of the run in an Adirondak chair sipping a cold beer, cheering on the others. “The only good thing about doing it,” she said, “is that I’ve done it now. Check.” “It wasn’t on my bucket list, but now it’s checked off my life list, nonetheless.”

I’m retelling this now because I confessed to the crowd that I don’t have a bucket list. One friend said, “Why would you? You don’t need a bucket list when you get everything you want and do everything you want to do.” Everyone laughed, including me. But in my rebuttal, feeling a little stung by the comment, I said, “I’ve never been to the pyramids. I’ve never been to Greece. I’ve never seen Buckingham Palace. I’d like to do all those things. AND for the things that I have done, I’d now like to do them over with my kids.”

Today, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about a bucket list—what it is and what it means to have one or not have one and what mine should include.
In case you don’t know the definition or origin of a bucket list, it’s a list of goals or achievements that you hope/plan to do before you die. The idea being that if you have a plan, your life has purpose. Without a bucket list, it’s easy to get caught up in the mundane or the flurry of daily activity—always concentrating on the minutia and never seeing the big picture—a compass on the journey of life.

I haven’t come up with my lifetime bucket list (I only started seriously thinking about today), but I did come up with a few things that I had on a “resolutions” list from the start of this year. It’s not as comprehensive as I think a bucket list should be, but it’s a start. I posted it below. If you want help on coming up with one of your own try this site or think about Mondo Beyondo, a six week on-line discussion of life goals and achieving your dreams, no matter how crazy they might be.

This year, I hope to:
Begin a blog (again)
Write regularly on said blog
Enter the Midsummer Writing Contest again
Win Midsummer Writing Contest again
Continue my memoir project
Sleep at least 7 hours a night
Exercise each day
Meditate in the morning
Give up M&Ms
Be a better friend
Have a party
Ride a roller coaster or two
Have lunch out more often
Do yoga more often
Visit Robin
Take a cool trip with my family
Get back to Hilton Head
Learn to be more patient
Forgive a little more than I do

This year for sure...

Last year at this time, I was planning for (and worrying about) abdominal surgery. I “went under” on June 25th then spent the rest of the summer, although not in pain, hunched over in recovery, not able to get into a bathing suit, and generally feeling achy and bloated.

For three weeks, drains pulled fluid from the surgical site which made it difficult to find comfortable, fitting clothes. I wore a lot of dresses that could easily drape over the drains but at the same time, not rub the bandages. Whether it was the drains or just recovery in general, I spent the summer restricted from normal activity.

Mostly I sat in different positions in different places. I tried to be on the screened porch, breathing in fresh air as much as I could, but the heat gave me a rash under the surgical dressing which just made life more uncomfortable, forcing me inside to watch TV.

In a just a few days, it felt as if I’d see every episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I became very familiar with multiple chefs from multiple seasons of Top Chef that ran re-runs daily on Bravo or with pumpkin ravioli that I watched Giada DeLaurantiis make more than a few time. At night, I watched landscaping make-overs on Yard Crashers or Curb Appeal or watched people choose homes around the world on House Hunters International. And then there were the E! True Hollywood Stories, E! News, and the Kardashians.

I am a do-er by nature. I live life in constant motion. Slowing down for recovery last year was difficult for me. I felt old, tired, broken.

But a year later… I feel fantastic, anxious to get to all the things I missed out on last year. First on the list is an adventure trip to Arizona where we’ll hike and camp with a group that includes pack animals (see Austin Lehman). Between camps of art, basketball and gymnastics for the kids, I hope to persuade Eric to take us over to Cincinnati for a day at King’s Island— to ride The Beast, one of the best Roller Coasters on wooden tracks.

I wish we could make it to Hilton Head . It is my favorite place to relax, read, and walk the beach. There is nothing better in my book than building a sand castle with Adrienne by day then chilling with a iced tea under an umbrella while Eric grills fish and vegetables. I love to end the day with a soak in the pool, listening to Andrew talk about music. He’s an aficionado for such a young kid. But that’s a scenario for another year. We couldn’t swing it this time around.

In place of the beach, I’ll substitute our local country club. And I just can’t wait to sit at the pool all day with my kids-- even if I’ve been cut up, scarred up, and left not anywhere near perfect in a bathing suit.

A New Week

“And, oh what a week!”

That was the repetitive phrase Father Joe used during his homily at the communion mass. He was talking about religious events of the ancient nature, of course. But he was also talking to the kids and the families in the church about going from Easter to communion, “And, oh what a week!”
I have to bring it up because I second that, “And, oh what a week!” It’s been a wild ride this May, so far.

We started it (as you know) with communion on the 1st. On the 3rd I ended my semester with a breakfast for my students in the atrium of the library on campus. I collected 41 portfolios of composition work that had to be graded ASAP. On the 4th I packed Andrew off to a sleep-over camp with his 5th grade class. They ventured up to the Lakeshore and spent three days and two nights exploring the sites and hiking. On the 5th I took Adrienne to the public school for a meeting with her new principal then took her back to St. Paul so I could go give a final exam. On the 6th I went to 8 am Mass to see Adrienne in her communion garb one more time. After the May crowning and the student/parent breakfast, I high-tailed it back over to campus to give another final exam. In the afternoon, I picked up Andrew and headed to Indianapolis for a funeral (Eric’s Aunt died after a 15 year battle with Parkinson’s Disease). On the 7th we spent all day mourning the loss and consoling family. On the 8th, I got to celebrate with my mom and family and then drove back to Valparaiso. On the 9th I gave a make-up exam, finished grading my other exams, then posted final grades.

But on the 10th day, the ripples in the pond of my life grew still. And, the weather even took a break from the dreary, opening sunny skies and releasing warm winds. Today, I looked backwards and said to myself, “And, oh what a week.”

Then I looked forward into the blue sky of the first day of my summer vacation.

Fall Out

Dear Robin,
After our phone conversation, I feel like I should start over and write something different. Just talking to you made me feel good and so over this stuff, but I did spend the better part of my evening putting this down, so…

I wasn’t going to write about this, but I don’t think I can move on from my own feelings if I don’t vent them out to someone. So, here goes:

Adrienne came home from school on Monday in a mood.

She walked in and slammed the door then approached me with tear-filled eyes. I asked her what was wrong and she exploded, “What did you and Daddy do to make everyone hate us?”

Wow. Loaded question. What in the world was she talking about?

After a few questions, I figure it out.

She was referring to communion and more specifically to communion parties.
Earlier in the day, the first day back to school after communion, Adrienne’s teacher set aside time for a “show and tell” (if you will) of after-communion activities. Each student got to “brag” about how many relatives came in to visit, what kind of food or cake was served, what special message your God Parents gave you, what kinds of gifts you received, and etc. The process of communion is part of their religion grade and family tradition related to communion is part of the curriculum. In the teacher’s defense, I can see how such an activity would be totally relevant and possibly a good way to “close” the event.

One thing you should know about Adrienne is that she does not like to be upstaged or out done. I don’t mean this in an arrogant or mean way, nor do I imply that Adrienne is competitive. I just mean that she, in the least, likes to be like everyone else. She absolutely DOES NOT want to be the one person that didn’t have a big after-communion gathering or that didn’t have God Parents present.

So, in school, in front of her whole class, she cried when one of her classmates told of her party that was too big for her house—a party that had to be held at the country club with a cake that looked like a wedding cake, and with God Parents that flew in from California.

This same classmate acquired 62 gifts which in addition to traditional plaques, rosaries, and bibles, also included cash--$832 (according to this classmate).

When Adrienne was telling me about this country club party, through sobs I might add, my imagination got the best of me. I pictured some over-the-top MTV style communion where Ozzy and Sharon Osborne are the God Parents and the first communicant gets a scooter that looks like a motorcycle as a gift from the celebs. Or better yet, it’s Courtney Cox and David Arquette and David gets drunk on the cheap country club champagne and smears the communion cake that looks like wedding cake all over another guest and so not to ruin it anymore, they start throwing cash.

At one point, lost in my own rendition of this little girl’s event, I laughed out loud.

Big mistake. Adrienne stomped off to her bedroom (and slammed that door, too)yelling that I don’t understand how she feels, that I don’t care how she feels and then, “Everybody had a better party than me!”

Instead of going after Adrienne, I stayed seated in the living room for a few minutes, thinking.

To an outsider, it might seem as if Adrienne was jealous of the gifts and the cake or jealous of the country club or jealous of something else. I was tempted to think the same thing. But after a bit of reflection, I thought otherwise.

Here’s the thing: Adrienne, as the second child, is always on the lookout for what Andrew got that she isn’t getting. That does make her a scorekeeper about a lot of things. But in addition to that, just by her sheer nature, she is perceptive. She sees and hears, notices and processes all things going on around her. She can sniff out authenticity as easily as she can detect insincerity.

Now, I am not implying that my in-laws were insincere in their visit, but I have mentioned that our relationship is superficial. And I think for the first time, Adrienne noticed it too. So, when they came and left in a whirlwind, Adrienne got her feathers ruffled—her feelings hurt.

Despite her sharp perceptions and her outgoing personality, she is not one to point out when she is feeling hurt. She glosses over it, “puts on a good face,” and focuses on something else (like the cute little cakes we had) until something happens that makes it hard to hold in her disappointment anymore.

The country club party wasn’t the only thing that did it. It was everyone in class who shared a story of a laughing, loving visitor—an adult who sat at the table and told stories about their own first communion or kicked a soccer ball around the yard with the cousins, of flew in from California because that’s what God Parents do. This is what they taught in school about communion. Attached to the ceremony is a family full of tradition and full of excitement for you to make this holy sacrament.

Her emotions came from the fact that in class, for the first time, she was faced with the reality of her family compared to her perceived notions of everyone else.

She wanted Eric’s mom to not be sick or to suspend her grieving of her sister in law for a few hours. She wanted all the other relatives on the invitation list to send some kind of acknowledgement, she wanted Eric’s partner’s wife (her God mother) to find the time to come to see her in her dress. She wanted my mom or dad to tell some kind of story about her when she was little or about me when I was little. She wanted someone to make her experience like what her textbook and the teachers told her it would be like—what her friends in class confirmed.

Everyone gave Adrienne money and gifts, which was so nice. But Adrienne is a tough cookie. That stuff is only good enough if you bring your best self along with it. She was disappointed, not jealous.

I opened the door to her room and found her wrapped up in a white fluffy blanket, communion dress still laid out flat on the floor from the night before.

After a few minutes I was finally able to talk to her about how we don’t control other people in whether or not they can come to a communion party and we certainly can’t control the way people act when they come to our house, but we do have control over ourselves and we can choose to look our life situations in ways that make us happy and not ways that make us sad.

I said this more for my own benefit than for hers. Practice what you preach? Yea…I’ll work on it.

All the pretty brides...

As it turns out, all the girls looked like brides. No traditional dresses in the house!! I guess traditions change. Or maybe I was just clueless all along.

Did I tell you that 155 kids took first communion today? Yes, 155. Of course, the group was broken up into three masses. There were two groups at 10--a Mass by Father Joe in English in the main sanctuary and a Spanish one done by Father Leo is the chapel. Then the Saint Paul School kids along with a handful of Religious Ed. kids went at Noon. That was us.

So, here's what Adrienne looked like:

Isn't she so cute? I did her hair on my own. I'm proud of that because I really can't even do my own hair. I don't know how to braid and I'm terrible with a blowdryer and hairbrush together. Like playing a video game, which I am not good at either, the hand-eye coordination necessary leaves my hair (or Adrienne's) all tangled up. But a bun, I can do. And thank god, Adrienne loves buns and has wanted them for the last few special occassions. So for now, I'm safe in the "pleasing Adrienne with hairstyling skills" department.

At the church, we were packed in the pews, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The service plus pictures after took two hours, but that wasn't a negative, either. Evidently, I was waiting for something to irritate me (not sure why) and it just didn't happen. How nice.

The pomp and circumstance of all the kids walking in was really the best part for me. It was fun to see my daughter and all her friends process into the church in their outfits with their hair fixed up in veils and tiaras and the boys with a gelled comb over.

My dad came to church which surprised me at first, but then after a few comments I wondered if he or my mom read the last post. I hadn't told them I was posting again nor given them the blog address, per say... but, dena out loud is a name I've used before... whatever. It was nice that they both went.

Eric's mother and sister and sister's child came too, although I am not sure if they came to the church or not. My parents encountered them in the driveway when the whole thing was over.

When I arrived home, I frantically threw together all the stuff I'd planned to cook: roasted potatoes (with olive oil, garlic, shallot, and fresh rosemary from my very own plant in the yard), salad (with yellow pepper, radish, tomato, and baby english cumcumber--kalamata olive, goat cheese, and asparagus absent-mindedly omitted because I felt rushed), and grilled chicken.

I say frantically only because I was putting pressure on myself. I'm working on being more laid-back--operating in the moment. But practice makes perfect on that one. And although I didn't feel stressed out, I worked quickly in an effort to get food on the table. In my rush, I didn't season everything as perfectly as I usually do (if I do say so myself). My opinion is that the meal was mediocre--not up to the normal standards around here.

Eric's mother didn't eat. Evidently she was fighting a cold and also grieving over the loss of her brother's wife who died from complications of Parkinson's Disease yesterday. Now, it's important for me to say that she didn't tell me any of this. She told Eric. In private. She stayed here at the house for about 30 minutes and then left. That seems crazy to me because it takes two and half hours for her to get here. Why she came in the first place is something I've been pondering for the last few hours, but that seems to be a "glass half empty" way of viewing thing. Maybe I should turn it around and feel touched by the fact that under the circumstances she DID MAKE IT and even if it was just for a bit, she made the effort. There. Glass is half full now.

Eric's mom did give Adrienne a card with $50 inside which was more than generous. From Adrienne's point of view, the glass is totally full!

Eric's sister and sister's child were fine. We covered the Lego tables with sheets. That seemed to mystify the kid and so he spent his time here out in the driveway on his Big Wheel (do they still call them that? those plastic tricycles with the plastic wheels?).

The sister/sister's child thing was over in about an hour. She also gave $50 in her card, too. I can't believe I'm even thinking about being a catty in-law about this stuff.

In was a drama-free day and besides Adrienne looking so beautiful, the hightlight of the day was our dessert. I had mini-cakes made with crosses of white chocolate on the top. See?

The cake was pefectly moist on the inside and the icing was a whipped cream that was also just the right amount of sweet vanilla. I would actually be willling to do the day all over again just to have another one of those cakes.