Lapsitters

Children are made readers in the laps of their parents.

And aunts.

And uncles.

And grandparents.

And various friends and neighbors.

Momma Michelle with Ella (L),

 Aunt Cathy with Daria and baby Claudia

Cousin Gavin with Ella

Sr. Antonia with Daria and Ella

Uncle William with Ella

Uncle Gabe with Ella and Evie

*NB: I had more photos of reading children and grandchildren, but my internet isn't cooperating. I may add more later! Just for the archives, mind you. This blog has been the best thing for us as a family for saving moments, and reading together has occupied many of our most precious moments.

Oh To Be Four Again!

* Reposted from 2009 (Holy Moley! Five years ago!)  Gabe is a big ole 9-year-old now, and though he's matured to be a little more sober and sedate, he's still the joy he was as a 4-year-old. Look at him, though. These pictures do make me smile!  And the contemplation at the end is one I'm still working on.  Praying for joy and trust!  What more can we ask for here on this earth?

*

To have no regrets about the past, no worries about what might lie ahead.
To live 100% in the moment.

To laugh and play,
to learn and teach,
to love and be loved,
to spread joy by your mere existence.
To understand and enjoy perfect trust and contentment.

Is this what the saints did? How do we get back to that? How can we actually become "as little children" again? Is there a way to keep our children "as little children" through their growing up years?

Just thought I'd throw the questions out there. These are the things I'm contemplating tonight. What do you think?

Family Week: Tuesday

"I think the family is the place where the most ridiculous and least respectable things in the world go on."

~ Ugo Betti (1945)

"Especially if you're a kitty."

~ Gigi

William's Sixth Birthday Party

So, today is actually William's birthday, but since all our Thanksgiving company is leaving today, we did our celebrating yesterday.

To start the day, the girls (which included my sis, Nina, Michelle, Theresa, Cathy, Anna, and I) all went shopping, while Dan had a boys' day out with sons, Kevvy, Gabe and William, adopted-son, Omar, and our new friend, Brian.  While we were hunting sales in the department stores, the boys were out on the Uncompahgre Plateau hunting out just the right Christmas tree.

  And they found a beauty.  Not as big as last years' tree --  because of the new desk, we have to put it in a different window, closer to the downslope of the ceiling -- but, still, it's a nice, full, pretty tree.  It's become a tradition to cut our Christmas tree on Thanksgiving weekend when we have more man power, though we won't actually decorate it until the week before Christmas. But, bare or not, I love having it next to me as I sit at the computer here; it looks and smells warm and comforting just standing there in its God-given simplicity.   Now, as Advent continues, the kids and I will make ornaments, bit by bit, to hang later.



William's first peeled potato.  He was
very, very proud of it, let me tell you.

 But, anyway -- I digress!  To continue with William's birthday story...  It's also a family tradition to peel way too many potatoes for Thanksgiving mashed potatoes -- for the express reason of having leftovers for potato soup the next day.  So, after we girls got back from shopping, we quick-cleaned the house, and rearranged all the furniture to accomodate the tree the boys had put up while we were gone.  Then we made potato soup, with garlic bread and crackers.  The big brothers and sisters figured out how to personalize the two boughten ice cream cakes for William to have for dessert.  Then around 5:30, we welcomed our friend, Brian, and our two parish priests whom we'd invited to join us. 

We had the soup.  And the soup was good. (How can potato cheese soup not be good?)

And the soup was followed by William's birthday cakes -- with a car ramp arranged between the two of them so that a matchbox car could zoom down between the six flaming candles.  The cakes were good and the stunt was appreciated -- especially by the two little boys.

Then, William opened his presents.

And the games began.


Play dough is always a hit around here. 



But these two dollar-store goofy glasses got some serious bang for the buck.
Here are Gabe and Birthday Boy, William.



Here's Omar.



We all thought Kevvy looked kinda natural.




Even Brian tried them on.



But then there was this gift:  a set of three Nerf guns
with a super pack of extra Nerf "bullets."
And...  Well...  You want to talk about getting some mileage...




Here's that six-year-old William.



Here are a few of the things you can do with Nerf bullets:

Lovely, Michelle.

And, in case anyone thought that having the priests over for dinner necessarily means having a quiet, sedate, and formal evening....  Well....  There was a semi-lull in the middle of the activity for a couple rip-roaring games of Catch Phrase. And some nice interludes of lovely piano playing.  But, the evening was mostly dominated by...

                                  Nerf Wars!



Father B.  is a formidable Nerf war opponent!

 



And Fr. J. is a dead aim!

You should have seen it in the thick of the battle!  Noone was safe: Nerf bullets flying everwhere, children big and small slipping and sliding on the floor, darting behind couches and counters -- challenges, parries, grudge matches...  Fr. B. and Fr. J. both had the kids on the run. Simultaneously, the young adults (with Dan and the Fathers joining in occasionally) held a long-running match to see who was best at throwing the suction-cup bullets clear across the roomwith enough trajectory and aim to make them stick on the big  north window... We are still finding Nerf bullets everywhere.  But it was a hoot!   Our "Fathers" were (not uncustomarily) the life of the party!
I think everyone had a great time.
And I'm pooped.

But William says it was the best birthday party ever --
And that being six years old is pretty much fun so far.
"It's just like being five, but with more toys."

Happy Birthday, Little Guy!
We sure do love you!



Table Talk

 Over Chicken soup and garlic bread this evening...
We break in on the following conversation just as the family has been informed by an, um, informer that our kindergartener, William, has been cutting up in class...

Mommy: William, don't I tell you every morning not to be silly at school?

William: But school is seeeeven hours...

And there I was for a half second, thinking, "Poor little guy; I guess that is a long time to hold back something that comes so naturally to him...." That's what I was thinking, mind you, until he added:

 And I forget as soon as I go in the door.

And there ya have it, folks. At least he tells it like it is.

And, yes, we laughed. 
Which is why he continues to be the class clown everywhere he goes.

Here's William, five years old.  Thirty seconds of him:

What's not to laugh at?

Anna Davis, Nine Years Old

November 12th, 2011

Where I'm From

I am from the little log cabin across the pasture from Jesus' house; from multi-colored elastic pony-tail holders, from Polly Pockets, teaparties, Nancy Drew and Scrabble. 

I am from the cozy and crowded, snug and comfortable, the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg. I am from aspen and pine trees, mountain and prairie. From bad singing on birthdays and twenty-zillion pies at Thanksgiving.

I am from Nina and Grandmom, from Davises and Chenoweths -- choir singers, movie quoters and hula-hoopers from way back.  From "Do unto others" and "Offer it up."  I am from my Roman Catholic Faith, undiluted, unchanged, full of life and love and bounded by the rules and the rosary and the Mass and from flowers and pictures pinned around statues of the saints.

I'm from the the rolling plains and fertile valleys in the shadow of the mighty Colorado Rockies; from Ireland, and England, and Wales, and Germany. 

I'm from quesadillas and bread sticks and potato soup.  From Colcanon on St. Patrick's and Bouillabaisse on New Year's and chai in the morning if I'm lucky.

I am from my four big brothers' snowstorm "white-outs;" my three big sisters' music and baking; my little brothers' in trouble for bouncing on the couch. I'm from sitting on the sidelines giggling at all of them. 

I'm from a billion photos on the hard-drive and a dozen tacked over the desk nearby; from a ten-sibling pyramid and mountain top hikes and board game bonanzas in a log cabin in the mountains.

I am from love and hugs and sibling squabbles; from a Mommy just waiting to hear what I'll say next and a Daddy who loves and "whoops up" unconditionally.  I am from memories and love to last me a lifetime.

And then some.


*  Written for Anna by Mommy ( from the template which can be found here).

Makes My Monday

Brotherly Love.

William and Gabe November, 2011 (5 and 7 years old)

                                     


Their biggest brothers, Kevin and Paul, app. twenty years ago.
(About 2 and 4 years old)



Paul and Kevin now (or last Christmas, anyway)
 23 and 21 years old now

Don't blink. They grow up so fast!

See Cheryl for lots of Makes My Monday posts!

Give a Kid a Stick...

And He'll Make a Rotisserie!

My son, the lawyer

Upon being the first two up Tuesday morning, after Michelle babysat the night before:

Me: So were you a good boy?

William:  You know how on Sunday Mass one time, Father said nobody's perfect.?

Me:  So, but, William...  Were you good?

William:  Well, you know, the devil gets grown-ups, too, sometimes -- even grownups like you.

Me:  You had some troubles, then, huh?

William:  People sometimes try real hard to be good... but nobody's perfect.

Me:  William.

William:  Yes, Mommy?

Me:  How not perfect were you?

William:  Pretty close to it.

Me: Huh?

William and I Love This Song!

We just cut a rug across the living room floor dancing to it.
And I'm tellin' ya.  We did twists and flips and twirls, too!
But, um...
 I guess it's not a good idea at my age to jitterbug with a five-year-old.
Too much temptatin to bend, lift, throw and catch!
 (Don't tell my chiropractor!)

Unfortunately (or fortunately)  I don't expect this is the last time I'll be remembering it's not a good idea --

after the fact,

with an icepack on my neck...

Gratuitous Pictures of Gavin

Because he's my first grandbaby --

But mostly because he's sooooo cute --

and F.L.U.F.F.Y!

See what the shirt says? 

Gavin James, 4 1/2  months old.  :)
Can't wait to get ahold of his sweetness!  Planning a trip to see them all this summer!  Woohoo!

* Pictures courtesy of Gavin's awesome Momma (the world's best daughter-in-law), Nicole!