Quiet...

Quiet can mean many things both good and bad...

As a child I would ask my maternal grandfather, my Poppa, what he wanted every year for his birthday and Christmas.  I always expected a different answer because ask any child that question and they will easily list off at least 5 things with rapid excitement.  Poppa on the other hand would say, "Peace and quiet."  Where is the fun in that I would wonder...

With the landscape of my life very different than the one of a child my wish has changed to his.  Busy lives keep us running regularly, husbands and children alone are loud and messy.  Then add everything else we pile on ourselves and we have a noisy orchestra to lead. 

The other three in this family are just plain loud.  Pretty much all the time.  There is singing, dancing, laughing, running, yelling, crying, temper tantrums and just generally being loud.  At three and one, tmy two children some times are not the best playmates...I cannot tell you how many times a day I am settling some discord.  "Leave your sister alone" or "give that back" or "please share" are constantly uttered.  And while this might sound horrible, some days bed time is the best time. Those are the days that literal peace and quiet are fantastic. 

Other times it is the quiet that scares me.  It usually happens when I am in the middle of something, working to get something done such as cleaning, dinner, laundry, etc.  I will get lost in the momentary peace and then realize with sheer terror that it is quiet and I panic wondering who has gotten into what.  Usually a split second later there is a bang, crash or a boom, followed by screaming and crying (either by one of the children because of what has happened to them or by me because of what mess, catastrophe or nonsense they have created).

But then there are the best occasions when I again will get lost in the momentary peace and then realize with sheer terror that it is quiet and I panic wondering who has gotten into what.  Here is where it is different.  As I sprint to locate them, I am joyfully surprised to find them playing together, gently, quietly and peacefully.  There is harmony, sharing and fun and I smile wondering how they could ever be anything other than angels.  This is what I found today :)

Now I understand Poppa's semi-annual wish!  Sometimes I literally want peace and quiet only found when they are sweetly sleeping safe and sound.  Other times I want the actual peace and quiet of my family playing together sweetly.  So what do I want for Christmas this year?  Peace and quiet...and something pretty or sparkly too!

Let's try this again...

So I began this blog FOREVER ago to track my family and share the precious happenings. I successfully posted I think twice. While I liked and enjoyed it, I had too many ideas on what to write. So time passed and more time passed and I just fell out of the habit. But did I ever really develop the habit in the first place as I think it is said it takes 2 weeks to develop a habit?

I have thought about blogging every week but never got back in the saddle. But I could not figure out why. Lord knows I have a ton of thoughts and opinions. And then I realized I needed another venue for those. I will keep this one on my family to hopefully serve as a historian of the little things in our lives. And now I have a new one to entertain my rantings and ravings.

This should be interesting as while in the company of those other than my husband (who entertains my crazy notions, although I am not sure if it is because he has to or because he wants to), I usually refrain from controversial subjects or hard opinions. However on here I am not worried about stepping on toes or offending others as you are welcome to look away at any time...that's if any one is ever looking at all. HA! So here we go...Take 2!  If you are curious, check it out at www.thoughtsfromherself.blogspot.com

Happy St. Patrick's WEEK!

I could not be more excited as St. Patrick’s Day is this week!  A proud (half) Irish colleen, I am very excited to teach my children about this part of their heritage.  While they are much too young to even comprehend, that is O.K. because I am tickled pink even if I am the cheese who stands alone on the matter in this house!  The granddaughter of two brave, curious individuals who literally sailed the seas looking for the promised streets paved with gold, this has always been a big part of my identity.  And some of my most amazing memories are of listening to them tell tales of Ireland and also being lucky enough to travel back to “the old country” many times.  I miss it, my friends and family over there and most of all, my grandparents very much.

We will be kicking off the weeklong celebration on Sunday, with Corned Beef and Cabbage which is an Irish-AMERICAN custom and not a traditional dish you find in Ireland. Although not a conventional Irish dish, I feel compelled to partake in the practice as I always did growing up.  From what I understand, Irish immigrants learned of it from their Jewish neighbors here in the “new country” as an inexpensive protein option.  Although I am not a historian and have not researched the topic to ensure the truth to this story, I can say some of the best corned beef I have ever had has been at Jewish delis in NY and NJ!  Mmmm…on rye…with mustard…

Ask anyone who knows me; I have a complete love affair with potatoes.  I have always attributed this to my Irish blood and the most memorable potatoes I have ever tasted were in Ireland: roasted at my cousin, Noreen’s house and boiled at my Great Uncle Jimmy’s house.  Neither was entirely fancy, but no other potato experiences stick out in my mind as these.  It must be the soil!  At least that is what my Great Aunts and Uncles would say.  When in Ireland I found we ate potatoes every day and french fries (or chips as they call them) did not count as a proper potato serving.  My Great Auntie Julia use to say and Irishman had not eaten a suitable meal unless there was a potato consumed which must occur once a day.  It looks like I will put my spud love to the test this week.  There will be potatoes with the corned beef, plus I plan on making colcannon (mashed potatoes mixed with cabbage), champ (mashed potatoes mixed with scallions) and potato soup to name a few of the items we will be savoring each day.  Also on the menu, Irish soda bread and traditional lamb stew.  I thought about making an Irish “Fry” breakfast, but I am not sure Gary is ready for that plus I am not sure where I would find proper sausages, bacon or the “pudding” (another story for another day.)

It is said that everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day!  So welcome to the club ;)  But one thing that confuses and irks me is when people write “St. Patty’s Day.”  Again, not researched for fact, but instead this time in my gut, this spelling is just wrong.  Patty is a nickname for a girl, lady, woman named Patricia, such as the character Peppermint Patty from the beloved Peanuts cartoon by Charles Shultz.  Now there are many Irish men named Patrick.  But if you were to call them “Patty” I am sure it would not be well received.  Many names have Irish/English translations such as Sean/John, Liam/William, and Seamus/James as does Patrick.  In Irish Patrick is Padraig and thus the Irish nickname is Paddy.  So instinct tells me the wish should be (and is my wish to all this week) “Happy St. Paddy’s Day” or Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig!

OK so here we go...

So I have never blogged before...but decided to give it a try.  Not sure why or what I hope to accomplish, trusting it will unfold on it's own.  Gary started one A WHILE AGO that fizzled and died.  According to that page Aidan is a month old (LOL he is now 2 years 8 months.)  Not to mention when he wrote that Fiona was just a twinkle in our eye ;) And as I start out on this new chapter of my life, I hope blogging can be a creative outlet, memory historian and idea sharer! 

Aidan and Fiona