Christ is Risen! Christos Voskrese! Christos Anesti! Ding-dong, Lent is done!
I've never been so happy to make it through to Pascha. We had a lovely end to our Holy Week, the kids did reasonably well, given all the late nights, disrupted schedules and hotel sleeping, and now we are into Bright Week.
Birdie even did pretty well during the long midnight service--I expected to have to bail after the procession and go back to the hotel with her, but she made it (with lots of breaks to walk around outside) and we were all able to stay for the feast afterward!
|The kiddos at the feastal meal afterward. It was about 3:30 a.m. and they were pretty manic at this point.|
|This may or may not have been my lunch on Thursday. I plead the 5th.|
I spent Monday and Tuesday being pretty sick to my stomach with a virus of some sort and battling seasonal allergies, so I feel like I missed a few days there, but that is okay. Crispix with chocolate milk for breakfast! Chili and cornbread, cheeseburger pie, Shake Shack hamburgers for supper! Strawberries and angelfood cake with whipped cream for lunch! Cherry Garcia ice cream for dessert! So lovely.
And this, dear friends, is what one's fridge door looks like during Bright Week--dairy with a side of chocolate dairy. And whipped cream. Oh, and some seltzer water for the inevitable tummy issues that result.
|Anniversary roses. The arrangement used rosemary as the filler, which was lovely, as I usually can't stand the smell of regular green filler.|
Wednesday was our 8th anniversary--this is the first year it has fallen pretty close to the liturgical day we got married, which was Thomas Sunday (the first Sunday after Pascha). It was also pretty nice to have a Wednesday anniversary fall during Bright Week so we could go out for good burgers and get Capogiro gelato afterward. Mm-mm good. The weather even cooperated, as it was rainy and nasty during the day, but then cleared up and got quite nice by supper time, so we spent some time walking around Rittenhouse Square and browsing Barnes and Noble (and making fun of the sorts of things publishers make coffee table books about).
I just bought Steve Martin and Edie Brickell's album, Love Has Come for You, after a great review in The Week, and it was a Good Buy. Who knew Steve Martin was such a multi-talented (in addition to being wild and crazy) guy?? The album is very bluegrassy because of Martin's excellent banjo picking, but I like it.
When I was laid out on the couch earlier this week, I watched a fascinating Danish film called A Royal Affair that stars Mads Mikkelsen. I've seen a few other things he has been in (he's probably best known in America as LeChiffre in Casino Royale), and I think he is just a brilliant actor. The movie is about how the Enlightenment came to Denmark in the late 1770s. Danish actor Mikkelsen (oddly) plays a German doctor who gains the ear of the monarch, Christian VII, but the movie is mostly told from the point of view of his English queen, Carolina. There is much to love about the film, and I found myself pondering the influence of the Enlightenment in Europe, and how good it really was for general society. It is too much for a brief discussion here (perhaps I will take up that mantle over at the other blog sometime). My recent readings of Jonathan Last and Douglas Rushkoff have certainly influenced my thinking, as has my real-life experiences as a mom of more children than the average. In any case, there is a scene near the end that made the film for me--Mikkelsen only has one line, I think, and the rest of the scene he conveys a myriad of emotions and thoughts without speaking a word. Masterful acting, that. (And great European writing--I don't like being handed things on a plate). I watched that scene in awe.
|Self-curated outfit, currently his favorite thing outside pajamas--leggings rolled up to his knees and too-big t-shirt (one of the size fives that he is in love with). I give up.|
When your first child is one of those rare creatures who wears all his clothes on time (that is, according to the size label), and outgrows them on schedule year after year, you can get a little bit cocky about buying clothes for your kids. I've got this, I think to myself. But Boo isn't that child, and has never worn clothes on time, outgrows things with frightening regularity and pretty much foils all my clothing purchase plans. This season I really screwed up. Boo and Piglet are fairly close to the same size now despite the age difference (Boo is big for his age, while Piglet is average), and I thought Piglet was probably ready to go up a size in t-shirts from last summer (his shirts last year were size 5/6, and he is getting out of size 5s). Boo is out of 4T shirts, and I thought he could wear Piglet's shirts from last year, and I would get new 6s for Piglet. (Following me so far?) Turns out that Piglet isn't quite ready for size 6 (he is 5 after all) and Boo isn't quite ready for 5, and there is a difference between 5 and 5T. So I've ended up ordering three sets of summer t-shirts in three different sizes all in the last three weeks. Le sigh. At least it won't be wasted--next year's t-shirts are already bought.
And now we've reached the 36 week mark, and I'm staring down the home stretch of this pregnancy. I will confess that I've spent the greater part of this pregnancy feeling panicky about the labor and delivery because that whole mommy-amnesia thing? Total lie. I remember every moment of the last four labors/deliveries, thankyouverymuch, and the thought of going through it all again was enough to make me reach for a brown paper sack to breathe into. I forgot, however, how compelling the final weeks are when you just. want.that.baby.out. Labor-schmabor. Bring it. I'm ready for you.
Go see Jen for more Quick takes!