In honor of our Dads

I'm pre-posting this with Blogger's post ahead option because I really want to participate in Carrie's Phriday Photo Phinish for Father's Day.
First of all, we have another HOT Dad Alert with Sweeter posing with our little Buttercup at my sister Pati's graduation party last week.



And here's my Dad with me and my mom on my wedding day in 2002. He died on November 27, 2007 at just 50 years old. I know you're here with me and watching over all of us, Dad. And I love ya for it. I'm giving Sweeter the Dad ring I saved up for and got you for Father's Day when I was just 13. Just like you would have wanted. So, what's Father's Day like up in Heaven?





Happy Father's Day to our dads, from me and from Buttercup.

When did Jesus get trumped by the Easter Bunny?

DIAPERS

So I'm a Catholic and Buttercup is being raised as one, too. Mr. L is not, but he knew it meant a lot to me to both get married in a church and to have our babies baptized, so we are doing the "one religious parent and one who doesn't give a damn" thing.

Basically, Mr. L. says his rule is that Buttercup can stop going to church with me the moment she says she does not want to go.

Fine with me, I said. Only my rule is that she is mine and God's until she is eight years old. I was baptized and made my First Communion, and so will she. After that, she may not have to ask Daddy to save her from Sunday service if Mommy's drive to follow family traditions dies off the day after Buttercup hangs up her Communion dress.

Sad, but very possibly true.

As for Easter and Jesus, let me first say that I do go to church on a semi-regular basis. My mom and I had gotten into the habit of going every Saturday until my dad died, and then we spent quite a few Sunday mornings at St. Anne's in Mexican Town for the funeral and for the subsequent memorial masses for three Sundays in a row, so we have upgraded ourselves from the Holiday Catholics we once were.

And while I dragged us all, over-dressed baby in tow, to Easter morning mass, I was giddy with excitement to get back home and have Buttercup play with the Easter basket I decked out for her with books and stuffed animals.

And then when my family showed up, and each dropped a wrapped gift or stuffed animal into her little hands, I suddenly realized why my parents never bought us anything....we already owned every toy imaginable!

Seriously, my 9 1/2 month old baby got more toys for Easter than I think is religiously appropriate, but then again, I think my childhood Easters were exactly the same.

Future note to self: Do NOT buy ANYTHING for Buttercup next year...the stuffed animals are already conspiring to take over my home!

(Okay, okay, maybe just one little thing! But that is it!)

Remember me?

So admittedly, it's been a while since my last post.
But a lot has happened.
Frankly, as a writer, I think it is pretty pathetic to say that "life got in the way," but it did.
My dad died right after Thanksgiving (and on my mother's 49th birthday) and well...my entire family and I dressed ourselves in black and shook hands and hugged and kissed and thanked hundreds of people for their thoughts and generosity while mentally trying to tally the number of stamps we needed for thank you cards. (Current tally: over 250.)
I won't bog down all of the available space on the Internet trying to catch up, but I will mention a few quick notables:

(On the writing front)
*I have FINALLY made it to the Detroit Free Press for freelance assignments. It's honestly been my goal since college, so major Woohoo for me.
*The Five Fabulous Finds column at Metro Parent seems to be garnering some traffic, so that is pretty exciting, as well.

(On the baby front)
*Buttercup is now 7 months old, 18 pounds, and 27 inches long. (Note: photo is about two months old. I have yet to download about 200 photos from my digital.)The little Princess of All Things Diva is now scooting (so close to crawling!), and her smile melts my heart.
*Mom! I am now the mommy of a talker! Buttercup has been saying "Mumma, Mum" for a while now, but only while sleepy and seeking comfort from me. On New Year's Eve, she kicked it into high gear with "Mom" all over the place and now calls for me when she wakes up!
I swear, I have always secretly loved having a name that is not common and thought I'd hate to share a name with others. "Mom" is about as common as it gets (Just try calling it out in a grocery store or amusement park.) But I get a little rush every time she says it. I might be one of a million in mommy land, but I'm all hers.

Anyway, I'm alive. And I'll do my best to get back on track with posting. The show must go on...