The Clash of the Secular and the Holy--Doyle Style

It was Palm Sunday 1998 and the priest had all the children up front talking about Holy Week.  He asked, “Who knows what will happen on Thursday?” and many hands went up.  They all shared their answers.  Then he asked, “Who knows what Good Friday is?”  Only Sarah Katherine’s little 3 year old hand went up.  I moved to the front of my pew feeling so proud as only first time parents who have yet to be humiliated enough in public do.  “Yes, Sarah Katherine” he kindly acknowledged her hand.  Very proudly she reported, “It’s when the Easter Bunny nails Jesus to the cross.”  I really tried to slink under the pew, but I was holding a 3 month old and a 20 month old, so it was not to be.  The congregation burst out laughing; I turned bright red, and SK continued to sit proudly certain she had answered brilliantly.  (That was back when she didn’t think she failed everything only to get an A; I’m sure a therapist could have a field day with how that happened, and I’m sure I can be blamed.)  I remember the priest looking over at me with kindness (or was it sympathy or judgment) in his eyes as he said, “And that my fellow brothers and sisters is a wonderful example of church and culture clashing. Thank you Sarah Katherine.”

We are in the midst of the Advent season; it is a different season than Christmas, and yet culture has melded the two along with Santa, Frosty and the Heat Miser.  As parents rearing our children in the church we struggle with how to both keep the season holy and focused while all around us the frenzy of commercial Christmas churns.  And if I’m honest, I want my children to have both.  I want them to understand the holiness of Advent—the season of waiting; the miracle of Christmas and God’s amazing love AND I want them to put cookies and milk out for Santa (okay I’ll be honest we put out cookies and bourbon—Santa deserves it! Who knows he may be lactose intolerant—everyone else is these days), feed the reindeer and participate in parties.  It’s a conflict many of us face.  Here are a few ideas that have worked for our family.  I’d love to hear yours.

1.       We put our decorations up minus our tree in early December.  The tree goes up the night before Christmas Eve and is decorated Christmas Eve morning.  (For all of you with small children full of energy and impatience on this LONG day, it gives them a focus.  But beware, if you have a 3 year old Caroline she might tell your neighbor, “Having a tree up already is inappropriate.”

2.      Light the advent wreath every night at the dinner table.  Yes, the candles will be small nubs by Christmas Eve, but it will set the tone.

3.      We put our crèches out but not baby Jesus or the wise men.  Christmas morning one child places him in the manger (which is why if you have multiple children it’s a good idea to have multiple crèches—fights on Christmas morning really kill the spirit.)

4.      Use purple napkins throughout the month and then bring out special ones on Christmas Eve.

5.      Read a Christmas book every night of December and alternate between secular and holy.

6.      Leave your tree up until Jan. 6.

7.      The wise men arrive at the crèche on the morning of January 6.

8.      We used to give a gift a day for the 12 days of Christmas (but that was when a pack of lifesavers was considered a “good” gift).

Have a blessed Advent and Christmas season.  (I think SK now understands Good Friday—I’ll let you know)

And Their Mama's a Priest

A friend asked me yesterday about our "traditions" for Christmas.  I warned her--starting traditions create tradition monsters; I should know--I have four.  One year I gave them robes instead of pajamas on Christmas Eve.  You seriously would have thought I had personally ruined Christmas for the entire world.....,

Last night at dinner we began talking about Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas brunch.  The children were talking over each other about what their favorite part was.  Well everyone except Caroline who was trying to decide if she should "Swing" or "swung".  Shawn was paying attention to her and falling out of his chair laughing.  Caroline, "Why is it so funny?"  Shawn whispered to me, "I don't think she knows what that could mean."  Clearly--and I'm a little disturbed that my exchange student does. Caroline changed the subject and said, "I was so happy today.  Christopher came into the gym and announced to everyone that I'm a real baller."  My mind was not jumping as quickly as others apparently because I was just about to fuss at Christopher for calling her inappropriate names especially at school.  "Yeah," he said, "She has practice shoes and game shoes.  She's the real basketball deal."  Chris Sr., "Wait, we bought you TWO pairs of basketball shoes?"  Caroline, "Yeah I asked you for one and Mama for one."  (Perhaps we should communicate better--I'll add that to my list of topics to talk to my therapist about) but back to the meal....

I decided to try to bring the conversation back into some sort of normalcy (yeah right) and more importantly inclusivity.  So I turned to Shawn and said, "This is what we have for our meals.  Is there something special your family has for Christmas dinner?  We could add that."  Shawn smiled at me (see some people understand me) and said, "No.  We have dinner on Christmas but nothing particularly special."  Boss  began laughing hysterically, "Shawn just tell her.  Mama he doesn't have anything special for Christmas dinner because HE'S NOT CHRISTIAN HE'S KOREAN!"  I may have turned as red as Caroline's neck from The Bark Collar (yes that happened last night too), but my loving husband tried to save my dignity.  "Boss, there are Christians in Korea aren't there Shawn?"  Shawn, "Yes, we have churches everywhere."  Boss not to be deterred from making certain I understood my mistake, "Yeah but Shawn's not one of them!!!!"  Me, "But he told me  (why did I start referring to him in the third person when he was sitting right next to me?) in middle school they tried to convert him."  Shawn turned to me with a huge smile on his face, "Yeah, but it didn't work."  Welcome to the family Shawn you have officially become part of us--initiation in our house is openly laughing at the Mama.

Sweet (?) William changes the subject again, "These advent candles suck.  (I HATE THAT WORD!!!) They are burning down so fast.  What are we going to do in a few weeks?"  I responded, "It will be fine."  Caroline, "We'll just have to replace one and start advent all over. That will suck"  (That word again!!!)  "Seriously Caroline?" I interjected, "We do this every year.  Why are you acting like you don't know how this works?"  William, "What happens if we light them all tonight?  Or what if I light the pink one tomorrow night?"  Boss, "You'll probably be damned to hell."  Caroline, "Yeah you'll probably kill Jesus--hey wait Jesus already got dead."  GOT DEAD?!?!?!!  Who are you?  They began deciding who was being damned talking over one another so I'm not sure they heard me say, "But he rose again, remember oh children of mine who have gone to church almost EVERY Sunday of their lives??!?"  It's a good think I'm going to FORMA (A grassroots association of members of The Episcopal Church and kindred individuals and institutions, Forma supports, networks, advocates for, resources, and celebrates Christian formation leaders in their Christian formation ministries) in January.  Christian educators have been saying our Christian formation programs aren't working.  I really wish my children weren't poster children for that belief!!!

"I think we should clear our plates.  Ya'll have studying to do."  "Yeah," said William, "And you've ruined Christmas already because we don't have our chocolate advent calendars yet."  Fair warning--do not start traditions....

Bark Collars Work on People--Caroline proved it.

It's been a crazy evening.  I worked late and had not done half of what I wanted at home.  I was the last to walk in the door--"Ya'll get a snack, dinner will be at least an hour."  I knew that because my neurosis kicked in on the drive home; I wanted to get laundry going; I needed to wrap a Christmas gift, and dinner involved a lot of chopping and sauteing.  "Caroline," I asked, "Can you wrap this present for Daddy to take to Jonathan?"  "No.  I've got a paper due.  But why are you using a glue stick?"  Caroline helpfully asked.  "Because I have no tape."  I answered thinking I should be congratulated for my innovative thinking, but alas that wasn't to be.

Chris left to take his Godson his Christmas present wrapped with a glue stick.  I began to saute dinner and Boss worked on his homework in the dining room declaring, "Jonathan would rather have comic books than Jesus books."  Just a regular night at the Doyle's.

I was talking to SK when Caroline came down.  She was, well, she was Caroline.  I finally said, "I've got to go.  Daddy just got home and I've got to get dinner on the table, and Caroline is being Caroline."  Chris came in and said, "He loved it but would have preferred a race car--just kidding."  And in that moment Caroline removed the bark collar from Bobby.  "Do you think this really hurts?"  "Yes," I responded, "That's why he doesn't bark when it's on."  Caroline, "I don't think it really does."  And with that, she stretched it around her neck and let out a loud bark.  "OWWWW! This really does work."  Chris, "Seriously, you thought it wouldn't?"  Caroline, "Well last time I did it, it didn't hurt like this.  I think I have a red mark."  Boss, "You do have a red mark."  Me interrupting, "Wait a minute, last time you did it?"  Caroline, "Yeah, one time I did it when SK was home.  It didn't hurt that much."  Me, "I can't believe you have a red mark. How are you going to explain that tomorrow?"  Caroline clearly no longer interested in this conversation, "Have you seen my crab face?"  She contorted her face into, who knows what--"Ouch that hurts where the bark collar got me."

Just another night at the Doyle's.....

Only a Doyle Handyman

When we were first married, Chris and I (okay Chris, Uncle Mike, Aunt Anne and I--giving credit where credit is due) "redid" an old house.  We painted every room, stripped and rehung wall paper, and Chris refinished the hardwood floors.  Now I know most people finish something like that and are energized and proud.  Chris turned to me and said, "Never again.  If we can't afford to have someone do it, it's not going to get done."  And so every time we move we search out doctors, hair stylists, and a handyman.  Ray is our Louisville handyman.

Several weeks ago we made a list and decided it was time to call Ray.  I called and left a message; no answer.  A few days later I called again and left a message; no return call.  I called a third time and left a message.  I couldn't understand why he wasn't calling us back.  He liked us I thought.  Of course that might have something to do with the fact that we double paid him since we didn't communicate on who would write the check--perhaps we should add a finance person and mediator  or communication specialist to our list of people to find when we move.  Anyway, he didn't call back and I decided that he was either dead (he's not young) and I was harassing a grieving family or he was going to have me arrested for stalking because he wasn't going to call back.  (I clearly wasn't working on home improvement projects so I had plenty of time to let my mind create.)  I was about to go on a search for a new handyman when surprise Ray called.

He was sorry he hadn't called back sooner, but his mother had died (I knew there had to be death somewhere in there) and he was named executor but he didn't know he was executor and then they had to clean out the house...15 minutes into the call I finally was able to break into the story and say, "Can you help us out?"  "Oh yeah," he replied obviously reconnecting with the idea that I was his client not his therapist. "I'll be over sometime next week."  I didn't press him for a specific time and date, when you're not handy you work your schedule around the handyman.  Plus, I was a tad bit afraid he would give me a 20 minute detailed list of what he would be doing.  If I think someone talks alot....well you know they do.

Ray finally came over to look at the projects.  Sure I can do those he told me AFTER he retold me the story of his mother's death complete with how he and his five siblings divided up the furniture.  I know exactly who got what and what they're doing with it, why they didn't choose other pieces and the house has been sold. He also told me about the kitchen redo he did for his wife.  "Took me 8 years, but I got it done."  He said, "I'll be back sometime next week."  Again I wasn't going to press, on top of that,  I was too busy praying these projects wouldn't take 8 years....

Thursday Ray showed up.  I was working from home.  I hadn't had a day off in awhile plus it was freaking cold and I had a roaring fire.  (I burned 28 pieces of wood that day--another weirdness about me, I count the wood I burn.  I definitely keep my therapist in business.)  I was working on a sermon listening to Gregorian advent chant in the back ground.  (It was in Latin)  I was trying to concentrate and Ray was talking and talking and talking.  (I know some of ya'll are so happy and just want to say,'Paybacks are hell')  Finally there was a pause and glorious silence.  And then Ray started singing!!!!  Rather he started chanting, PERFECTLY AND IN LATIN!!  He's scrapping my ceiling and chanting Gregorian chant.  I really didn't want him to talk anymore but I had to ask, "Ray, are you chanting?"  "Oh yeah," he responded, "I was in catholic seminary for 5 1/2 years but then I decided I'd rather drop out, become a painter and get married.  Now that's a story!"  I didn't get to hear that story--he had to go outside for the gutter project...I breathed a sigh of relief.

Four hours later Ray announced, "Well I'm about finished for today.  I'll have to come back tomorrow to put another layer on the ceiling." he told me and then continued to explain how he'd learned all these trades.  37 minutes later he left.  I was beginning to think he was moving in and I'd have to introduce the children to their new Uncle Ray.  Further he charges us by the hour; I wonder if I'm getting charged for entertainment as well...

Friday Ray called to say he was on his way.  I was heading home from the gym and told him I'd meet him there.  I arrived and Ray was already in the house.  "I went ahead and let the dogs out," Ray informed me as I walked into the house.  "I can't remember where you keep the treats."  (He really might be moving in....)  We stood in the middle of the living room as he detailed what he had done after he left my (our) house yesterday.  He pulled out his phone and began to show me pictures of his grandchildren--I tried to keep it straight--we might all become family.  He put his phone away and as he continued to talk he began to undue his belt and unzip his pants.  "WHOA!" I screamed turning my back to him.  He began to laugh, "Did you think I was taking my pants off?"  That's exactly what I thought and think.  He kept laughing as he said, "I am but I have shorts on underneath.Remember I went to seminary."  Seriously a warning would have been helpful PLUS you dropped out of seminary!!!  He finished the second layer and called me back into the living room.  Ray began to explain the next step as he started to redress.  Even knowing what's going on, I have to say it's a bit unnerving to talk to a man in your living room who is pulling up his pants and tucking in his shirt.....

"I'll be back tomorrow to put another coat on," he told me,  "I'm going home now to work on one of my computers.  I had to replace the hard drive last night.  I have seven computers.  I built my first computer 2 years ago.  If you aren't here, I'll just come on in."  I remained silent.  First I was amazed--this man also builds computers?  A Gregorian chanting, story telling, handyman, computer guru. Only a Doyle handyman.  Also, while it's wrong; I know it's wrong, so very wrong,  but I silently gave thanks for the early morning board meeting followed by a funeral and two basketball games. He may meet his match, Caroline will be here...

Society Hell

Anyone with teenagers knows having a gourmet family dinner before 9 pm with the WHOLE family together is a very rare occasion, so I take what I can when I can.  I love to cook and to set the table with themed china and linens, and I love having the whole family around the table without feeling rushed.  Yesterday I didn't have to work so I got to do some of that.  I prepared a semi elaborate salmon set the table with the leaf place mats and called the boys to dinner (at 7:30 I said I take what I can--SK is clearly not traveling from UVA for dinner and Caroline was at play practice.)

We sat down and began to eat and to have typical Doyle conversation (read conversation that borders on if not crosses over inappropriate and conversation that jumps faster than the Easter bunny)--Boss, "We stopped at the video store today so I could pick up William's new video game.  I do that for him so much they don't even card me anymore.  That's not the place I don't want to be carded."  My head whipped around--Boss, "Wait it's not what you think."  Before I could delve into that conversation, William, "Yeah there was this weird kid there...."  Chris interrupted, "What a weird kid at a video store?"  (Yes we do stereotype--but then our weird kids were there today too.)  William, "Us weird kids call this time of year, Broketober because all the new games come out."  Me, "Remember Christmas is coming up."  William,, "Yeah that's why I need you to find me jobs or give me some money"  Chris, "Boss can you pass me a piece of salmon?"  Boss reached across William and picked up a piece of salmon WITH HIS HANDS!!!!  "Boss!"  I shrieked.  "What?  I was trying to be polite and not interrupt the flow of the conversation by asking William to pass the platter."  He's so considerate.  "You're killing me or at least aging me quickly."  Boss, "Yeah, but I'll put you in a good home."  "I'd like to go to Merrilee please."  Boss, "That's not happening--that's too expensive."  Chris, "At least you get to go to a home; he told me he's just putting me out."  Boss, "Yeah, he'll figure something out--I'll make sure you have a place to live."  I didn't know whether to add--thanks for taking care of me but not your father or to be amazed they had clearly had  this conversation before--and both remembered it....

William got up and poured himself a glass of milk WITHOUT asking anyone else.  Boss already had water, but Shawn had nothing--something I'm sure he would eventually be thankful for.  As he sat back down he placed his glass to the left of his plate.  Me, "Sweetheart, the glass goes on the right side."  Boss, "This isn't the middle ages Mama.  Don't move it William."  Me, "I know it's  not the middle ages, but it's just the proper way to set a table.  Ya'll know that."  "Well," he continued, "Mine is in the middle of the place mat.  I like it there.  I'm pretty much I'm in the center and William leans left."  Seriously, he's bringing politics into this?!?!?  "Plus, the place mats aren't big and you don't want the glasses on the table."  Me attempting to bring this conversation back into some sort of normalcy, "Well it's still the proper way."  Boss, "Well I guess I'm going to society hell since mine is in the middle and I'm not moving it.  What about you William?"  William, "I guess I'm going two levels below society hell because mine is to the left."  Shawn was trying not to fall out of his chair laughing not completely certain whether I was going to lose it.  I decided to move on...

"I'll clean up Chris if you'll go get the poster board and bag of candy for Caroline."  Chris took that deal.  Boss began writing a paper as I was cleaning up. "Hey Mama, what's another name for Jesus?" I started giving him possibilities.  "No Mama, I need one that uses lots of words--I've got to get to 1000 words tonight."  So, I continued only to be interrupted again, "What do you know?   I'll figure it out."  Clearly I don't know how to teach table manners....

Chris got home and Boss asked, "What kind of candy did you get?"  Chris, "Snickers."   Boss, "Snickers?  Are you kidding me?  No one likes snickers and besides we go to private school where everyone has those rich people peanut allergies.  You should have bought reeces."  Caroline walked in at that point which saved me from trying to deal with ANY of Boss' reasoning.  Caroline, "What you got snickers?!?!?!  No one likes snickers, you should have bought reeces."  Chris moved to the kitchen to pour a bourbon--I should have joined him.  Caroline, "Can you take me to Bowling Green on Sunday?"  Boss, "I'm going to the UK basketball game so I can't."  Caroline, "What the hell?  Are you turning into a Cats fan?  We HATE  UK.  I want to go to Bowling Green."  (When did my children decide they could say 'hell' all the time?) Boss began to explain why he was going but then stopped to say, "Take a greyhound."  Back to the whole greyhound conversation from last month.  I jumped in, "She is NOT taking the greyhound."  Caroline, "I could just take a taxi."  Boss, "Are you an idiot?  What the hell? (That word again) Speaking of which, where do you put your glass at the table?  Mama says we're going to society hell."  Caroline, "Please someone take me to Bowling Green...wait, Mama, you told the boys to go to hell?'

I joined Chris.

Gripping and Groping

There were five of us in the car heading to fall gathering at All Saints.  The babies, a shy seventh grader, and a young man who was a Karen refugee--sweet and kind.  Honestly I don't know what people are thinking when they ask me to take their children to All Saints.  An hour and a half in the car with our family?  Seriously?!?!?!  Do you know who we are?  And yesterday was worse because the traffic was horrible and Caroline's energy was high....

In between spurts of "Why is the traffic so bad?'  William, "It's rush hour."  Caroline, "Well  no one seems to be rushing."  and "How much longer will there be traffic?'  I have no idea I'm not psychic, Our guests were napping and Caroline was having a monologue of her own most of what I was ignoring.  Will I ever learn?  "Mama, Mama, I'm asking you a question, " Caroline pushed on my seat and said, "Aren't you listening to me?"  Well I think it most have been obvious I wasn't, so I didn't answer.  She continued without missing a beat, "Do you know ___________?"  I tried to get context as she blurted out, "You know the tall nerdy kid who's totally weird?"  Oh yeah, well that certainly narrows it down oh 5'10 totally weird child of mine.  I simply responded, "I know who he is."  "Well, " Caroline informed me, "Maria doesn't like him because he groped her."  "WHAT?!?!?!?"  Now she had my full attention as I was trying not to have an accident as I contorted my body to look at her while simultaneously rehearsing i my mind a conversation with Maria's mother.  "You know, last week when she went to school with me."  I tried to remain calm, "He groped her and you are just now telling me?  Did you tell anyone?"  Caroline, "Why would I do that?"  "Caroline," I tried to calmly continue, "Please tell me exactly what happened."  Caroline, "It wasn't that big of a deal.  He just walked up to her and groped her arm really tightly."  William, sitting in the front seat, is looking at me with a "she's an idiot" look.

My heart rate began to drop and I said, "Caroline, that is called gripping her arm.  You can't go around and say someone groped someone.  That's going to really get someone in trouble."  (I totally missed the point that he also should  not have been gripping her arm tightly but that's a conversation for another day."  "Why not?" Caroline truly innocently asked.  "Because," I said, "That is not what people think of when they hear the word groping.  And if you said that at school he would get called in and be in some really big trouble before it got sorted out."  "Well, what does groping mean?" she asked.  William yanked off his ear phones and said, "PLEASE do not tell her!!!!"  "Yes, tell me," she hollered from the back seat.  "Mama please no," William begged.  "William I have to explain it. She can't say things she doesn't understand." I said as I looked in the rear view mirror to make certain our guests were still napping.  "Caroline, groping is usually the term used when someone grabs your breasts or bottom, so when you say someone has groped someone else that is what most people think you're talking about."  William buried his head in his hands just at the time I realized our guests are also possums.  As they were holding their sides and silently laughing, Caroline finished the conversation with, "I still like the word grope better than grip."  "Caroline, just because you like a word better doesn't mean you can use it inappropriately."  "Who's going to stop me?" Caroline asked, "The groping police."

We arrived at All Saints and as I got out of the car I saw our good friend and family favorite John MacLean, "Just so you know, Caroline was in rare form (or really just normal form) so the other two...." I began to say, but really how do you explain or even know what the other two might need?  Instead I finished with, "Good luck.  Have a great weekend."

Being the Youngest

We were in the kitchen--Boss was revisiting his idea to take the Greyhound to Atlanta for a rap concert...Then he moved onto could his friend come over after school.  Me, "No, I'm not going to be here  I've got to go get food for Caroline for tomorrow night."  Chris, "Yep, no one is to be here without Mama or me being home."  Boss, "How about we go to the grocery store for you?"  While I was thinking how this was probably going to end up costing me far more than I wanted it to, I was also thinking I could have an afternoon at home--I've worked five straight days where I didn't get home before 9 pm.  "Sure," I said.  "That'll work."  I handed him the list.  Just then Caroline walked in and said, "Oh tomorrow after the get together."  Me, "You mean the get together that we're not calling a party because I told you no party but yet there are 20 freshmen coming to my house tomorrow?"  Caroline, "There are not 20 coming; there's only 18."  Oh of course THAT makes it a get together not a party.

"Anyway," Caroline continued, "Toree and Rachel are going to spend the night."  "Okay." I responded.  Boss jumped up, "What?  Are you kidding me.? I would never have gotten away with just telling you people were going to spend the night when I was a freshmen.  Wednesday night you come home to find Maria here and you just hugged her.  That would never happen with my friends."  (I absolutely would hug them and do but some of them might think it's creepy so I do try to control myself.)  But he did have a point about Caroline's communication...

Wednesday night I arrived home at 10 pm and Chris asked, "Did you know Maria was coming?"  "Maria's here?" I asked.  Maria is Caroline's best friend from Bowling Green and there is a history of her showing up...  But I love that girl so I bounded up the stairs to Caroline's room and gave her a big hug. Caroline's friends LIKE me to hug them.   Caroline, "Did I forget to tell you again Maria was coming?"  "Yeah you did," I said, "And what's she going to do tomorrow when you go to school?" Caroline, "Oh I've got that covered; I already talked to Mr. Behr (head of the upper school)."  Glad someone gets clued into what 's going on at my house.

But back to Boss.."That is not true," I responded, "You know your friends are always welcome here." "No I'm serious," Boss continued not responding to my response because he was in the zone of the explaining the preferential treatment of the youngest and probably not able to hear me. "She just hands you a list of food she wants for a party that's not a party (glad he got that right) and you just do it.  Caroline, you think it sucks being the youngest but you get all privileges."  It did cross my mind that I should remind him I HATE that word, but he was in the zone and so he continued, "Name one thing that sucks (That word again!) about being the youngest and don't say something stupid like 'everyone else gets to drive first' because you will get to drive." "Well," I finally found something to say that may break the zone barrier, "She may get her license but at the rate you're going she'll have nothing to drive.  Everything will be totaled by then."  Boss, "Okay that may be the one bad part of being the youngest."

On Being Chauffeured

I miss driving.  I miss being able to jump in the car and go where I need to when I need to (or want to).  Well, I really couldn't do that right now anyway since my car is STILL in the shop from the accident SK had three weeks ago--she says it was good timing since I can't drive anyway because of the boot on my right foot.  I suppose that's one way to look at it---

I know there are people who drive with their left foot--I have been one of those people.  I was one of those people and because I was I have raised the bar on how to tick off your mother in law to a height my sister in laws can never reach.  A year and a half ago I pulled into my mother in law's driveway driving with my left foot.  I put the car in park but didn't turn it off--why?  I have no idea...as I lifted my right foot over the console it knocked the gear into drive.  I slammed on the brakes--well I thought I slammed on the brakes; I slammed the gas pedal down.  My car lurched forward, clipped Chris' rear bumper and plowed into my mother in law's brand new BMW (some series I cannot even begin to think about affording).  Her car plowed into their fence, slightly up the hill of their back yard and came to a complete stop by knocking down their shed.  (They should probably thank me for taking out their shed; they wanted it down and they were going to have to pay someone to do what I managed to accomplish in just a few minutes, at no charge, well at least to them...)  My car was totaled which is why I now have this beautiful car I love that my children keep wrecking!  And so I don't drive when I'm in a boot---

Nonetheless, the novelty of being chauffeured by my children is starting to wear off for me; I think it is long gone for Boss.  He says driving with me makes him nervous because I'm always grabbing the roof or slamming my non boot foot  into the dashboard.  In my defense, he has been involved in multiple accidents this summer; in his defense they weren't all his fault.  Yesterday as we were driving and I was both grabbing the roof and slamming my foot he asked, "What do you think doing that is going to do other than increase my anxiety?"  "I just don't want to die." I replied.  "Well," he retorted, 'if  we wreck and die wouldn't you rather them find your body in a normal position and not all contorted and weird?"  I'm pretty sure there is no right answer to that....

Wednesday Boss was taking me in his truck downtown to church.  It's typically my day off, but one of my parishioners was going to receive communion for the first time at the 5:30 service and I wanted to be there.  (She is absolutely precious and there was no way I was missing this!)  Another difference Boss and I have is how we get to church.  I cannot stand driving on interstates if I don't have to; he cannot stand stopping at traffic lights.  (He has not had an accident at a traffic light so I'm assuming he does stop when he has to.)  I suggested to him that the interstate may not be the best choice because it was traffic time; he didn't listen.  Being chauffeured by your children gives you a lot of practice in knowing when to speak and when to let them make choices and deal with the consequences.  This was one of those times--

We got on the interstate and within five minutes were stopped in the inside lane (a point that will become important) in traffic.  At one point I timed it and we went less than a mile in 10 minutes (I said I didn't speak not that I didn't take guilty pleasure in knowing I was right).  My hand was getting a work out grabbing the roof as we were stopping and starting continuously and I thought not leaving enough room between cars--  Boss turned to me and said, "My stomach is killing me.  I feel really sick."  "You can lie down on my couch when we get to my office."  (I didn't add where we would already be if you had listened to me.)  "I really feel like I'm going to be sick."  Just then he rolled down his window--yep he was.  So now he's throwing up out the driver's side window and trying to watch the traffic as it is starting and stopping,  I started scanning the road trying to figure out how we could pull off--there was no way.  I was trying to be sympathetic and help him so I turned around in my seat to find a cloth or a drink.  I grabbed one of his t-shirts so he could wipe his face and the side of the door.  (I couldn't believe how much crap there was in the backseat--another opportunity to practice not speaking.)  As I turned back around I caught the eye of the driver next to us.  I could almost hear her judging me.  I moved the seat back and tried to get my foot up on the dashboard.  "What ARE you doing?" Boss asked as I was contorting myself.  "I've got to get my foot up so people know I'm not a self centered mother who makes her son drive her around while he's throwing up."  I'm pretty sure he thought, "No, not a self centered mother but definitely a neurotic, paranoid one." but now it was his turn to practice not speaking.

Road Tripping with the Doyles

Family vacations have become very complicated.  Between summer jobs, sports camps, and the very early start of fall sports, finding a week we can all be together is nearly impossible.  This year Chris and I were determined to have a family vacation despite all the obstacles.  But it meant creativity and two cars.  (Just throwing that in there for environmentalists--we'd have to take 2 cars anyway but it feels less pollution enhancing if it's because we HAVE to leave on separate days.)

The Chris's left early Saturday morning.  They were going to meet Daddy and William in Columbia.  After much negotiating, they also took Bobby--the beloved (?) and obnoxious barking dog.  (This is the dog we gave Caroline the year she started to not believe in Santa because we would NEVER buy a small dog and she knew that, but we definitely wanted another fully believing Christmas--they have to always act like they believe or the tree stays empty.  Well that Christmas morning is one for the books--she believed.  And now 3 1/2 years later, she's 14 so you can guess what she believes, and we still have Bobby; not sure we thought that one through very well.)  Back to the story--other than lots of traffic and a much longer trip than planned, I haven't heard of any escapades--which only means they are hiding something....

Caroline returned home from field hockey camp mid afternoon Sunday.  SK and I waited and we were going to drive as far as we could Sunday evening and then get to the beach on Monday--as early as possible.  Thankfully our dear friend and knower of all information on everything, told me about a back way to get to I 26 that would miss sitting in the I 75 traffic.  To tell you how desperate we were to get on the road, we didn't even wait for Caroline to shower.  Anyone who has been around her after she is playing sports knows how desperate that proves we were.

As we got off the interstate in Corbin, KY to begin the back roads trek it started to rain.  Having already taken my Sunday afternoon nap between Louisville and Lexington, I was driving.  We were listening to SK's music through the stereo (trust me you would choose hers over Caroline's too).  Every few minutes the music would stop and there would be some annoying weather screeching alert.  It was hurting my ears; I was having a hard enough time driving through the torrential rain at dusk; and I just wanted to be at the beach, so I might have been a little less than on top of my game.  "Turn that annoying noise off!  We don't care what the weather drama is in Louisville."  A few minutes later my iphone started screeching too.  "SK, please change these weather apps so they are no broadcasting Louisville weather.  I don't know how to do it and plus I'm driving!"  Apparently not only do I not know how to turn off annoying apps, but I also don't understand GPS because this is what I heard next, "Mama, it's not Louisville weather.  It's weather here and it's a tornado warning.  It says to take shelter now."  I had vacation on the brain--read not thinking at all clearly or at all which anyone who knows me well can attest to.  I am terrified of weather and watch the weather channel not to mention having 4 weather apps on my iphone, "We've got to at least get to Johnson City."  I had no idea how far we had to go; I could barely see the road, but it helped there were very few other cars on the road which I pointed out to the girls.  They pointed out to me that only shows that everyone else had actually followed directions and taken shelter.

My knight in shining armor (husband) got us a hotel room in Johnson City and we made it.  As we walked into the lobby at 8:30 pm, tired, hungry and smelly we were greeted by dozens of preteen girls who were there for a softball tournament.  Oh happy day!!!!  I certainly wasn't going to get back on the road--plus the room was paid for with points, so we took a deep breath and checked in.  Across the parking lot was a BW3's (our go to restaurant) so we set off.  The waiter tried to get Caroline to eat a dozen blazing wings in 10 minutes--she could totally do it but didn't want to.  "But then your picture will be on our wall and I can see it everyday," the waiter explained.  "I think he's flirting with me, " Caroline informed us, "And I even smell."

Back to the hotel where we were again greeted by shrieking girls from the lobby all the way up to our room and next door to our room--Good Lord deliver us!  SK needed to get her steps in so she left to walk around the hotel.  She was gone for quite some time.  "Where did you walk?" I asked her.  "This is a very small hotel," she answered, "I had to walk down the hall up the stairs down the hall up the stairs.  There's only 4 floors.  I stopped going on the main floor after the 4th round because people started staring."  Both girls took showers--thank goodness!  Back to how desperate we were to leave--SK had packed for Caroline who now began complaining about missing something.  "Are you kidding me?" SK said, "Your drawers are disasters.  I couldn't find anything.  Don't you have some system about what goes in what drawer?"  Caroline, "Well, I used to, but then one day I just took the whole pile and put it in one drawer and realized how much easier that is."  I just sighed.

The next morning I woke them up early (7 am) and found they had slept in their clothes for the day.  "Isn't it uncomfortable to sleep in bras?" I stupidly asked.  "Not at all," Caroline matter-of-factly responded, "If I don't my boobs slide to the left.  You don't have to worry about that."  I honestly wanted to ask why the left and not the right, but I was too worried about the answer.  As we were getting ready I was given a list of my annoying traits--like the way I drink coffee (the coffee I had brought to the room for BOTH SK and me).  "You know," I said, "It's amazing that I have survived through life without ya'll."  Without missing a beat SK responded, "It is and you even made friends."

We made it two blocks before we had to stop the car so my genetically OCD daughter could double check she hadn't left her bathing suit--Chris has many stories of having to pull over for me to check things.  The previous night we had seen a bagel store that had a NOW OPEN sign, so we stopped. As we pulled into the parking lot Caroline said,, "I don't think it's going to be very good.  It's new and the lot is empty."  She was partly right that there was a problem.  The bagels were good, but the service....The girl waiting on us was not at all pleasant--she didn't even crack at a smile at our jokes (and who doesn't think we're funny--or at least think Caroline is funny?)  As we left SK said, "I don't think she's a morning person which is makes her career choice quite unfortunate."

Back on the road and all was well.  We made it to the beach with little other drama.

Thursday afternoon Chris flew out to join his friends for his annual guy's "overindulge in every sport possible" weekend.  (This is the shortest family week ever--2 days.)  Before he left he put the bike rack and the bikes on the back of his car.  I was grateful as I have no idea how to do it.  But--SK decided she wanted to ride that afternoon so off they came.  They did leave the rack on which I thought was the main issue.  Friday morning I got up and was starting to get ready for my last morning run with Bobby and then stripping beds etc.  Boss was already up and being extremely helpful collecting trash, stripping beds, and starting to pack up the car.  (I have no idea why he was so eager to help and get on the road.  I wasn't going to ask; I appreciated the help.)  At 8 am we decided to wake the others and try to be on the road within the hour.  He actually had a good time waking them up by blowing in their faces and watching/listening to them scream--that's another story.  As the girls were beginning to get out of bed Boss froze--"Uh; I may not be right, but there is a chance that I've locked the keys in the trunk of the car."  The girls took this as an opportunity to get back in bed.  I began to retrace Boss' steps hoping this was another one of his ideas of a stupid joke.  "Don't we have a spare somewhere?"  "Um yes," I said, "In the spare key basket IN LOUISVILLE!!!!"

An hour and a half later pop a lock arrived.  Keys found; cars finished being packed and out the door.  It was only 10:30 so we were still doing okay.  Wait, we're the Doyles nothing is ever as simple as it seems.  Boss decided he needed a different size in the shirts he had bought the previous day, and we needed to stop for bagels.  Again don't assume it's simple.  He left 15 minutes before us; we called him after we got bagels and he still hadn't made it to the store.  He was wandering around the parking lot because he couldn't find the store.  (In his defense it's a huge shopping center and as he says, "I'm not obsessed with shopping.  I've probably been here less than 10 times.)  Finally on the road at 11:25--called Chris to tell him we were heading out.

"Explain to me how he locked the keys in the trunk.  The bikes were on it and you can't open the trunk like that."  "They rode bikes yesterday."  I answered.  "Why?  Now the bikes are probably scratching the car.  Did they fix the pedals right?  I'm sure they didn't.  Why did they want to ride?" I felt a tad bit guilty that I hadn't checked the bikes--I also didn't know what I'd be checking but that's beside the point.  "At least they wanted to ride.  It's good exercise."  I could hear him thinking, "The bikes have been there all week and no one rode but now they want to?" but he didn't say anything.  "I'll stop and check them at the next rest stop."

We pulled into the rest stop, and the bikes were fine.  Better than fine.  They had actually done an amazing job putting them on and securing them.  Boss and SK got back into the acura and the babies and I in my car.  They were going to continue to follow us.  I started to back out and suddenly out of nowhere a car came flying down the lot so I stopped.  A few minutes later I was going to again begin backing in when suddenly I saw Boss backing out and WHAM!!  Yep right into me.  He jumped out, ran around the car to my door and started saying, "I'm so sorry; I didn't see you; I'll pay for it."  I semi calmly walked around the car to survey the damage.  "It's not the bad, do you think?' he kept saying.  At this point he stepped towards me and started to grab me to hug me.  I guess that's not what it looked like to others in the parking lot because two men started moving towards us.  "It's okay," I said, "We're family.  It's all in the family."  The babies were also now out of the car repeating, "Daddy's going to kill us."  "What happened?" I stupidly asked.  SK was about to fall down she was laughing so hard.  Boss, "I think you were in my blind spot."  SK, "Yeah, right before he started to back up he said, 'where's mama' and then BAM so I said, 'right there.'"

Back on the road I called Chris, "Have you had a beer yet today?"  "No, why?"  "Well, the good news is that the bikes are on really well."  I heard him exhale and then clearly realized maybe he shouldn't have, "What else?"  "Well Boss backed into me."  There was little left to say....

The Day Our Family Became Complete

Yellow gingham with storks smocked on them

My children love to hear the stories of their births--and then they share them--well, they share them in the way they want to share them.  Caroline, for example, informed the entire Collegiate 8th grade that she was one of the 1% birth control failures.  Well I am happy to use that to perpetuate fear and celibacy in her but it's only part of the story.

I knew I was pregnant almost immediately.  I didn't tell Chris--the children were 9 months, 26 months, and just turned 4--I needed him not to have a heart attack--I didn't want to be left with these monkeys!   I went a bought a pregnancy test--negative.  So I bought a second one, negative. So as any  slightly crazed, exhausted mother of three would do, I bought a third. This time it barely came up positive if I waited for 30 minutes and if I held it up to the light just right.  I called the hotline--they said it wasn't accurate after 10 minutes.  So I called the OBGYN and was put straight through to Dr. Ruth Cline's nurse--I was on a first name basis with everyone.  Cheryl said, "Mrs. Doyle, if they are all negative you are not pregnant."  (She didn't add, "you lunatic that is also on birth control.")  I hung up but couldn't relax, so I called back.  "Do you think I should go buy another test and take it again?"  Cheryl, "No, I don't think you should do that.  You have already spent more on tests and taken more than you need to--they are very accurate."  It was nap time and I knew my time was limited so I refused to take no for an answer.  "But what if they are wrong?  Maybe I should buy one and do it first thing in the morning."  Cheryl, who also knew Chris fairly well said, "Mrs. Doyle, your husband is going to kill you if you keep spending money on pregnancy tests that keep coming back negative.  Why don't you come into the office and we'll do one here."  "Oh thank you!  I'll get the children up and come right down."  "Whenever they wake up will be fine." Cheryl answered obviously not wanting three tired children whose insane mother woke them up in the office.

 I went down to the office, took the test--negative.  The next day I called again; instead of Cheryl, I was put straight through to the doctor.  Ruth, "Katherine you are driving my staff crazy."  I wasn't even offended, "But Ruth," I whined, "We are about to put money down on an all inclusive family cruise.  What if I'm pregnant and can't go?"  Ruth, "You are not pregnant but if you promise to not call this office again (she didn't say never again, but she may have thought it), I will send you for a blood test this afternoon."

I got the children dressed and was heading out the door when the phone rang.  It was Chris.  "Hey, I can't talk right now I'm running out the door."  Chris knowing the value of naps said, "Now?  Where are you going?"  I briefly thought about lying, but nothing good was coming to my mind, so I decided to tell a half truth.  "I just have to run get some routine blood work done.  I'll call you when I get back."  LONG PAUSE--I think I might have heard him gulp.  "You think you're pregnant don't you?"  I started talking a mile a minute, "Oh it's probably nothing; the doctor's office thinks I'm crazy since over the past few days I've done 7 tests and they're all negative."  "Wait," interrupted Chris. "You've done 7 pregnancy tests?"  Now how was I going to explain this to him?  I hemmed and hawed and just said, "Gotta run.  Love you."  Out the door to the lab and home for naps.  I was very efficient when I wanted to be.

That evening I was driving to church for Wednesday night supper talking to my dear friend and William's godmother on the phone.  Just as I passed the Kappa house (you really never forget these moments) the other line rang.  "Katherine, it's Ruth.  I don't know how to explain this, but you're pregnant."  "I told you I wasn't crazy." I answered.  "Actually," replied Ruth, "You're going to have four children in 4 1/2 years, so yeah, I think you probably are."  I clicked back to Christy and said, "I am P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T"  "I so want to see Chris' reaction when you tell him!"  (I'm sure her husband and Caroline's Godfather had a much more sympathetic response, but when you're mothers of three very small children as we both were you look for entertainment anyway you can get it.)  I arrived at church, got in line and waited for Chris to show up.  He tapped me on the back, "Did you get the blood test?"  "Yes" "And?" "Yes"  And not another word was spoken by him for the entire evening.

Don't want to belabor the next 8 months so I'll bullit point them:

• I was in maternity clothes by 10 weeks
• my hormone levels were rising so quickly that the nurses had a pool on whether it was twins or triplets (It really is a good thing Chris didn't know that until after we knew there was just one.)
• I threw up non stop for the first 4 1/2 months--only pregnancy I was sick with, and yes I lost total pride--Christmas parades, school parking lots, chick-fil-A, you name it
• I have no idea how much weight I gained because I started refusing to step on the scale.  Ruth allowed it--there are some perks to being a frequent flyer
• a great way to be entertained is to show up 7 months pregnant at the pool (looking like your overdue) and have the teenage boy lifeguard ask you if you're allowed to be there.  Then have your friend answer, "Well they did cover delivering babies in training right?"  No amount of sunburn could cover how quickly his face paled.  He never spoke to us again, but I think he exhaled every time I left the pool.

And just to throw this public service announcement in--when a woman is pregnant with her fourth child, do not ask

• Do you know what causes this?
• Are you sure it's not twins?
• Are you sure they have the due date correct?  (Seriously, as Chris said we have three children under three, we can give you the date, time and place!)
• Was this planned?
• Are you sure you can have a fourth c-section? (First, there's no other way to get this child out and second, Rose Kennedy had 12!)
• How are you going to do it?  (I'm going to get up every morning and just do it--it's called being a Mommy)
• Do you know how expensive this is going to be?  (Because we need to be reminded?)

Finally the morning of the C-section came.  We were so excited to find out if we were going to welcome James Patrick or Caroline Elizabeth in to our lives.  I had to have 6 hours of antibiotics before the C-section because of strep something or another.  I told Chris I would just drive myself to the hospital at 6 am and then he could get the children to the Adams around 11 and meet me for the noon birth.  Again 3 children under 4 you have to be practical.  But that morning all three came flying down the stairs as I was leaving crying because they wanted to go.  We didn't want to be late, so we just loaded them into the suburban pj's and all and headed downtown.  As we headed downtown I said, "Chris I want to use my maiden name somewhere in the name."  Chris looked over at me with a semi glazed look in his eyes and said, "Whatever you want darlin'"  We arrived with all three padding down the hall--there might have been a few stares--there were a few stares. Chris got me settled as the children climbed all over me, the bed, the rocking chair--everywhere.  A nurse asked, "How old are they?"  I confidently replied, "5, 3 and 18 months)  Chris looked at me, looked at the nurse, looked back at me and said, "She's lying.  They're 4,2 and 17 months."  I sheepishly looked down--"well it sounded better the other way."

I'm not sure how Chris got them out of the room but he did and my dear friend Krista sat with me until Chris could get back.  As they were prepping me for surgery they asked me to take my rings off--as happens every time, I refused.  I just couldn't bring myself to deliver a baby without my rings on--don't question a pregnant woman about to deliver.  Ruth was assisted by one of her partners and another friend Andrew.  As they began prepping me, Andrew and Chris started talking about good running routes around downtown and Ruth and I started talking about the sales at the children's store around the corner.  We were laughing and having a good time.  One nurse kept fussing with my blankets and interrupting to ask if I needed anything.  When she started explaining what would be happening, a second nurse winked at me, leaned over and whispered, "She does this every year; she knows what's going on."  

Ruth pulled the baby half way out increasing the suspense.  She pulled her all the way out and tears and cheers erupted.  I had no idea until that moment how desperately I wanted it to be a girl.  The boys had each other and I so wanted SK to have a sister like I did.  The pediatrician took her to the corner to check her over.  I had told Ruth I wanted my tubes tied once I knew everything was fine. As the pediatrician was checking her out Andrew and Chris were trying to figure out if they would have time for a quick run before she came back to the nursery.  Ruth, "Ya'll go ahead.  I can sew her up by myself."  Chris, "I"m not leaving until I see those tubes burned and tied."  Ruth laughing asked the pediatrician, "Is she a keeper?"  "Definitely."  More cheers and for the first time in a delivery room Chris walked around the drape and said, "Let me watch please."  Then he and Andrew left for a quick run while Caroline KANTO Doyle was being bathed and cleaned up.  And that day our family became complete.

It's All About Perspective

I finally convinced the children that there rooms had to be completely cleaned, picked up, trash thrown away, and drawers cleaned out of clothes they hadn't seen or been able to wear in years. Well, it helped to convince them by adding that all electronics would be taken from the house until it's done--

I arrived home from work and was greeted at the door by William.  "Come see my room--you're going to be so proud of me and so happy."  While I desperately needed to go to the bathroom and perhaps fix a VT, I also knew that I needed to reinforce this enthusiasm, so I crossed my legs and headed up the stairs.  "Doesn't it look great?" he excitedly asked.  Great is not exactly the word I would have used, but I decided to change my perspective.  Compared to the way it had looked when I left this morning "great" could be used if you added "improvement" to the phrase.  I gulped and just said "yes, I hope you keep it this way." really thinking about the potty (they hate when I use that word) and that VT.  As I turned around to leave William responded,  "I will  I'm going to keep it this clean by never coming in here."  It's all about perspective--

I went to the potty (love they can't stop me from using that word--really it's the little passive aggressive things in life that make me so happy) and decided to change before heading back downstairs.  As I was changing my door burst--literally--open and there stood Caroline.  "Grouse--put on clothes."  This is a common statement the children make when they come into MY room--I didn't respond--it's all about perspective--

"Guess what?" she barely got out through her excitement.  It did cross my mind that perhaps I shouldn't ask what; I hadn't had that VT and with Caroline you never know what's going to follow the guess what, but I succumbed to the eagerness in her voice or maybe I was hypnotized into insanity for a moment.  Regardless, I answered,  "What?"  "I found over seven dollars in change cleaning up my room.  This is awesome!  Thank you for making me clean up my room."  I almost did an obsessive compulsive mama happy dance--I had found the answer to her keeping her room clean.  I lept on her comment like a cheetah after it's prey--"Well, if you kept your room clean you wouldn't have lost the money to begin with."  If you google it you will find that cheetahs are the fastest mammals and typically they don't have predators--they've never met Caroline--a predator of cleanliness and faster than a cheetah...

"But finding money is fun!  And if I keep my room clean I won't get to do this again.  I know you're going to say well clean it every few days and you can find money, but that won't work either because there won't e MUCH money.  Finding a lot of money is what makes it fun.  I'll have to wait awhile to clean it again."

I didn't even finish dressing--downstairs for that VT--it's all about perspective.

We are Terrible Parents

It was a wonderful four days in Sea Island, Georgia with the youngest of my four children.  The final middle school trip--bittersweet.  And then....

We landed at 11:50; Caroline looked down at her phone and said, "I have to be at the lacrosse field in 25 minutes."  So we ran through the airport, grabbed our bags and jumped into the car.  I called Chris to let him know we were heading home and asked, "What's going on today?"  Chris, "I have no idea; all I know is SK has taken my credit card and is running around doing all kinds of prom prep stuff."  Me, "Okay, well here's what we've got tonight.  Pictures at 4:30 at our house; then at 5:30 at Danielle's then at 6:30 at Tyler's.  I'm driving them; Mason may go with me."  I could hear Chris thinking, "You get the details; I get the bills."  "Oh yeah," I added, "Caroline has play practice at 6; I've told Boss he's responsible for getting her there and back." (I didn't add that he hadn't confirmed he got the message--we'll worry about that later...)

We drove into the driveway; Caroline jumped out of the car and ran inside to get ready.  Quick kiss for Chris and then trying to decide who was taking Caroline to the game.  I still had Mother's Day gifts to finish.  (Don't judge--they'd been planned for weeks; the plan just hadn't been executed.)  As we were planning out the afternoon my phone kept blowing up with texts; I finally looked at it, "Can you bring a check?"  Chris, "Seriously?!?!?!  She has my card!"  Texted SK back (how did she not understand his card and my check were from the same account--Lord help her in college) and ran out the door to take Caroline to her game before finishing  Mother's Day shopping.  As I was working on the gifts Chris called, "She's got the wrong color socks.  Where are you?"  "Still shopping; I'll head home."  Chris, "No, that's fine.  SK just drove up and I'll get her to run me over there on her way to her next beauty appointment--I don't know what it is pray for me"  Me, "Hair"  I could hear Chris sigh--

I finished my errands and then headed over to the game making it just in time for the second half and the thunder to start.  We were thirsty so we decided to leave for the 30 minute game delay and get a diet coke, but as we were driving down the street I remembered Frankfort Avenue Beer Depot was on the next block. "Why don't we go get a beer?"  "Don't have to ask me twice," Chris replied.  We found a spot at the bar ordered a couple of beers and wings (I remembered I hadn't eaten lunch).  "These are so good." I said to Chris, "I'm starving.  Caroline and I didn't have lunch.  Oh no!  Caroline didn't have lunch.  We are terrible parents"  Chris, "There's some deli meat at home we'll feed her later. But why don't you text Rachel and ask what's going on since there is a torrential down pour going on."  I texted Rachel and others and got no response.  "Chris we should head back over there and see what's happening."  Chris, "We just ordered second beers let's finish those first.  Do you really want to run to the car in this?"  We are terrible parents.

As we were finishing our beers my phone rings with a hysterical SK.  "The rain is going to mess up my hair; this is awful.  I just spent money to get it to look like this."  (I didn't interrupt and remind her that it was actually my money) "And Christopher is being awful.  I told him to go get the boutonniere that I forgot to pick up and he won't do it. I need you to come home right now."  "SK," I tried to calmly say without letting her hear the laughter in my voice, "It's pouring down rain (I didn't add I was drinking beer) and we have to take care of your sister first.  I'll text Boss and ask him to get the boutonniere (I also didn't add at the florist that you drove right past several times today)"  Hung up the phone, took a sip of my beer and said to Chris, "We are terrible parents."  He didn't disagree.  Texted Boss and got this response, "I am but sk is being a psycho and I'm not going to listen to her freak out on my"  I withheld my smart alec response of, "if you go get the boutonniere you'll be out of the house Einstein"  Instead I tried to remove the we are terrible parent labels by running to the car and heading to the field--it didn't work because we did make sure we had finished our beers..

We made it to the field just as the game was being called--terrible parent labeling beginning to disappear.  Caroline, "Where have ya'll been?"  I was going to lie, but not my always honest husband, "Beer depot."  Caroline screeching, "Are you kidding me?!!?!?!  I'm starving.  Can we stop and get something?"  Chris, "We have stuff at home."  Caroline, "ya'll are terrible parents."  Yep, we knew that... Just then the phone rang,  "where is the hair spray?"  Me, "SK I have no idea.  I don't use hair spray."  She clearly didn't listen to me or to the tone of my voice that said, "I haven't used hair spray since perhaps my prom!" "Well I need it right now."  I again tried to come out from under the label, "We'll stop and get some.  What kind?"  SK, "A kind that works."  Oh the pressure..

We drove up to Walgreens and I asked Chris if he wanted to run in, "Are you kidding me?  I would have no idea."  (True--he's had no hair as long as I've known him--I just didn't want this responsibility.)  "Caroline do you want to choose one?"  Caroline, "Do I look stupid?"  So I ran in and chose what I thought might work not answering her question... Back in the car and I tried to help give Chris some good news knowing he was about to walk into prom hell.  "Guess what?  I found Bobby's bark collar."  Chris, "Maybe we can put it on SK."  Caroline and I fell into peels of laughter--we are so deep into the terrible parent label we can't dig out with a shovel....

Got back to the house; no Boss.  SK, "I'm so upset  I think I'm going to be a terrible bride that everyone talks about.  Thank goodness Mason is on her way over with a chai tea."  I made no comment as I handed her the hair spray that she actually needed--really I was just so thankful Mason was on her way! (and maybe a chai tea was what she needed--for the first time ever I fleetingly thought, 'I hope it's spiked' ) Ding-dong--Chris, "Who's that?"  "Probably Reggie she's coming to do SK's make-up."  Chris, "I'm just going to go in the den."  He did not add, and hide.  Reggie set up in the dining room and started talking to SK.  Ding dong--Mason walked in--Hallelujah!  Chai tea handed out, drink made for Mason's mother and my dear friend Jamie and we all sat down to chat and destress.  But then I started thinking, "Boss has been gone a really long time--where is he?"  Just as I was about to track him with my iphone (I actually think this makes us good parents--the children may not agree) he drove up, walked in the house, threw (literally) the boutonniere and went upstairs.  Something was clearly wrong--

"Chris," I said, "I think you need to check on Boss.  Something is wrong and I don't know what it is."  I sat back down at the table and said to Mason, "How was the wedding?"  "MAMA" screamed SK as Mason turned red--well as red as a girl who is ghostly white because she's sick as a dog but the bestest friend ever--could.  Jamie, "I think you missed something; let's go in the den."  Jamie began to explain about the wedding date that didn't happen and the loser boy who texted the information on the day of three exams--file that away to warn my boys about--and SK yells from the dining room, "I need my dress."  I heard Caroline scampering, read galloping, upstairs to get it as Chris walked back into the den, "he won't tell me."  We definitely have our roles--they want Chris to talk through disappointments and success on the athletic field or court because as they say, "You wouldn't understand Mama" which I try not to take personally or to retort every time, "I played on the BOYS soccer team!!!" and they want me to talk about relationships which Chris tries to not take personally and I refrain from saying, "Daddy was a far better boyfriend than I was a girl friend."  We just play our roles--probably continuing a long history of sexism but sometimes it's about survival, and remember, we are terrible parents--just add propogating sexist gender roles to the mis.  I tried to decide whether to head up to Boss' room or back into the dining room--it's like a choice between a root canal and non anesthetized surgery when the door bell rang.  The date was here--on time!

"Mama," SK yelled, "Do something!!!"  I was honestly thinking about heading out the back door--really we are terrible parents--but instead I went to open the front door as she said, 'Take them straight into the den do not let them turn their eyes into here."  I didn't know I wasn't supposed to tell them not to turn their eyes into there; I mean how else was I going to prevent it, but clearly by her growling I wasn't--terrible parent!  As we walked into the den I heard Boss calling me.  "Coming," I responded as Chris looked at me like, "Seriously you're going to leave me to entertain the date and his mother by myself?"  I suspect the date was even more concerned...

I head into the foyer where Boss is tearing up telling me about a fight he had with his very best friend Charlotte.  A tearing up 16 year old boy is really hard to take on a good day; on a day when you have a daughter dressing in the dining room, a date in the den with his mother, your husband and thank goodness one of your best friends--is almost impossible.  I did try thought, "honey, I know it's hard.  You and Charlotte love each other and are the best of friends but because one of you is a boy and one a girl sometimes things don't go smoothly."  He wasn't getting it.  I want to be subtle but time was of the essence, "Boss, hormones flair between ya'll even though you're just friends (frankly which I don't always believe).  Sometimes it's hard for ya'll to hear about the other person's dates and stuff  You have to be patient."  "You totally don't understand." he said as I reached out to hug him.  As I was hugging him I said, "I do understand.  I've always had a boy best friend and high school and college could sometimes get tricky.  Ya'll just have to talk it out when you can.  Give her space."  I really wanted to talk more but now I was being summoned for pictures.  At this time William emerged from the basement, "What's going on up here?"  Man I love that boy!

Took tons of pictures at our house before being told, "We have to leave now; pictures start at Danielle's in a few minutes." I left shouting to Chris, "I'll call you when we're done and let's get dinner."  Got to Danielle's for pictures with 30 then off to Tyler's for pictures with 92--I took hundreds hoping she would like some.  At this point we were all relaxing and SK was having a ball.  As I was leaving she ran over to me gave me a big hug and said, "Thanks Mommy.  Sorry I was so stressed.  love you. See you tomorrow."  Okay so maybe we're not terrible parents...

Drove up to our house and Chris came straight out the door.  "Where have you been?  It's been 2 1/2 hours.  I'm starving." Me, "You don't want to know.  Lots of pictures and they live way past that one 260 something that is really far away."  (Eventually I will learn the interstates here; it's only been six years.")  As we headed to get something to eat and spend some time talking the other three called, "What are we doing for dinner?"  "We're going out.  I'm sure there's some stuff there.  See you later."  Yep, that settles it we are terrible parents.

I Just Wanted a Graduation List and Now She's Getting Married

Yesterday Sarah Katherine received her first of many invitations to a graduation celebration, and I received a reminder that I needed to get hers ordered. So as we sat down in the den I reminded her I needed her list so that I knew how many to order.  Chris, "Wait, how many people are we inviting?"  I responded vaguely by saying, "This is why I'm telling you we need the bouncy house in the front yard--there will be lots of small children." Chris, "Isn't this a high school graduation party? Why are we having all these small children?"  "Chris," I patiently said, "We have lots of nieces and nephews."  SK slightly panicked, "And other close friends I want to invite that are like family and they have small children.  Really Daddy they're practically family. I want to invite them.  Pleeeeeeease"  I patiently responded, "I'm putting them on the list."  Chris, whom everyone thinks is a quiet gentle man is really a quiet gentle man who likes to quietly stir things up just to watch us all squirm, "Again, how many people are we inviting?  I'm not sure about this whole thing."  SK, "DADDY!!  This is stressful enough. I've got to make the list, choose invitations--Mama can you just do that?  Who knew this would be so hard?  I'm never going to survive having to make lists and stuff for a wedding." Chris, "Good Lord, and how much will THAT cost?"

Now I'm not sure how we got from we haven't even graduated from high school to making wedding lists, and yet still I said, "We'll write you a check for $20,000 right now if you'll just elope."  Chris looked at me as though I had just sprouted horns (I actually think he might sometimes think they are hidden somewhere.)  "Have you lost your mind?  We aren't writing her a check for $20,000 right now. We don't have $20,000 in our checking account right now."  Perhaps SK was only partially listening because she piped in, "Wait, you're not going to pay for my wedding?"  Honest to betsy I have no idea how this conversation had disintegrated to the level where we were actually having a serious discussion about a wedding to take place sometime in the WAY distant future with some unknown groom.  "Monkey Moo," I tried to calmly say, "Of course we'll pay for your wedding.  I'm just saying if you want to elope we'll write you a check."  Chris hastingly interjected, "But not tonight!"  "Well," continued SK, "I don't want a check I want a wedding I've already decided Mason is my maid or matron of honor.."  Me interrupting in a panic, "It has to be Caroline!"  "Obviously Mama, but Mason will also be up there as one of the honors.  Hopefully she'll get married first so I can have one maid and one matron, but who knows.  Besides I can work all that out, I'm just stressed about the list." This would have been a good place to end the conversation....

Chris, "Stressed about the list? You should be stressed about having to talk to all those people."  SK, "It will be fun to talk to all my friends."  Chris, "Obviously you're not stressed about talking to your friends--it's all the people you don't know."  SK looked completely shocked and appalled.  "Why would there be people there I don't know?  It's MY wedding."  "Well Monk," I calmly said, "There might be people from the groom's side you haven't met yet."  "Well why do we have to invite them?" she challenged.  I looked across the room and could see Chris' mind working to figure out how to stir her up more.  While I was trying to figure out a way to derail his plan she piped in, "Well then I'm marrying an orphan.  I don't want a bunch of people there I don't know." And then Chris threw the grenade...

"There's also this thing--the toasts--people get up and talk about you.  People that have known you forever.  Just wait until Daddy Adams talks..."  SK, "Does he HAVE to come?  Maybe he'll be busy. He is going to humiliate me!"  Chris, "There is no way Daddy Adams will miss either your wedding or toasting you.  He is going to totally nail you.  Oh yeah, and Zach Crouch too.  I can't wait to hear his." SK was turning pale, "Who else gets to toast me?"  Chris, "Pretty much anyone who wants--Uncle Carter probably will since he's your Godfather."  SK looking visibly relieved, "Thank goodness; he'll be normal and appropriate at a wedding."  At this Chris and I burst into laughter.  "Honey," Chris reported, "Uncle Carter is still famous for his antics at our wedding."  I fell apart in uncontrollable laughter silently praying Chris wouldn't share those antics...

Sarah Katherine threw up her hands and said, "That's it!  I'm totally stressed out; I have to go to bed."

Ice Cream and Uterine Linings

Caroline was so grumpy as we left the lacrosse field Saturday morning.  They had tied after being ahead most of the game.  She didn't think she'dplayed well and she was really down on herself.  I kept trying to get her to smile and none of my usual antics were working.  She was not impressed with my dancing in the parking lot or singing--this new competitive Caroline is going to take getting used to!

William wanted Brueggers bagels and Caroline wanted a salad from Chop Shop--another thing to get used to Caroline asking for nutritious meals.  They're across the street from each other, so both could be happy--score for Mama and Daddy--two kids wanting different things and we can do both with minimal effort. Caroline did not perk up during lunch a fact made clear when she tried to stab William's hand with her fork (plastic) when he touched her pita bread.  Fortunately for Caroline I was being sidetracked by her sister texting me from traffic school and explaining to me that she was pretty sure this is what hell was like and perhaps I could work that into a sermon sometime. (I love getting sermon advice from the children; most of the time it is just 'make sure it's short'.)

As we walked into the house Caroline saw Boss eating ice cream.  "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!" she shouted, "HOW COME NO ONE TOLD ME WE HAVE ICE CREAM?"  I refrained from saying either, "It's a state secret" which would have been obnoxiously sarcastic or "So much for eating healthy" which would have been both obnoxiously sarcastic and mean.  Instead I said, "you're welcome to have some."  "Oh don't worry," she responded as she began to dish it out, "I plan to."  (I also refrained from chastising Boss for eating directly out of the container; he'd just awakened after being out on his blind prom date.  That's another post..)

At this moment William walked into the kitchen, "What we have ice cream?  No one told me." Seriously I do not hide ice cream (I do however hide my special oatcake cookies..).  Boss, "I found it just by opening the freezer door." Caroline glared at him.   "Can I have some?" William asked.  "NO!" Caroline shrieked as she glared.  "What is wrong with her Mama?" William asked me.  I was about to say, "How much time do you have?" but I was stopped by Caroline saying, "I'm PMSing, you're not.  I get ice cream."  At this moment the basement door opened and Laney a sleep over friend emerged--I thought she'd left earlier in the morning.  Obviously the shrieking was enough to wake her even though her phone ringing wasn't--welcome to the Doyle's!  William began treading into dangerous waters when he said, "So just because you're a girl you get ice cream whenever you want?"  "Yes," Caroline spat out, "Do you have to put up with this every month?"  I looked over at William and saw in his eyes what he was thinking; I silently said Anne Lamott's quick Help prayer willing him not to say, "Actually yes I do have to put up with it every month THROUGH YOU!!!"  He didn't say it--crisis averted!  "Laney," I sweetly asked, "Would you like some ice cream?"  "Yes please," she answered without shrieking--she is welcome ANYTIME!  Caroline glared at me and perhaps at Laney too.  We are so hospitable.

She finished scooping out her ice cream, left the container on the counter (I assumed it was so William and Laney could actually get some--at least that's what I chose to assume so I didn't have to fuss at her for not cleaning up after herself), walked into the den and said, "I'm going to just go in here, be grumpy, eat my ice cream and wait for my uterine lining to shed."

William silently scooped out his ice cream and offered to make Laney a milkshake. without asking her about her uterine lining--he's learning.  His wife can thank us now.

My Multiple Personalities

Last week I sat in my therapist's office telling her how I felt like I had multiple personality disorder.  "I don't know who I am half the time, and I don't have time to even sit down and figure it out, " I whined.  As she often so elegantly does she simply responded, "I'm sure you do feel that way.  You have four teenagers, work a full time chaotic job, and have a husband who travels.  It's really quite nuts."  Yes, I pay her for stating the obvious--happy to hand her card out to anyone; she is AMAZING at stating the obvious.  Yesterday was certainly one of those MMP days.

Woke up to the smell of dog poo poo.  Boss woke up first; Avett (the dog) is trained to do his business as soon as someone comes downstairs (which typically is me which also means I know to put him out immediately).  So I gag as I clean up the mess, spray the lysol, light the candle and make the coffee.  The husband is out of town, four teenagers scrambling to get to school with lacrosse uniforms in tow for the 4:30 game.  Oh wait, that's not how it happened--Caroline stepped on a large tack in her room; goes all the way into her foot; we all gather around her.  Boss calls her Ricky Bobby as we convince her to pull out the tack so it "doesn't have to be cut out with a knife at the hospital."  I head to check immunization records while Boss and William hope she has to get a tetnus shot (brothers are so loving).  I think, "I really don't have time to take her in for a shot." (Mama's are so practical)  We're good for another four months--note to self make doctor's appointments now.  SK convinces Caroline to be a decoy in the yard so she could get in her car and not be shot by another senior (with a water gun); Caroline is running/limping decoy which makes her late being prepared which sends Boss into a fit.  William kept a very low profile, kissed me good bye and climbed into the truck.  I headed out for a quick run before heading to the hospital to say prayers before a surgery.  Oh yeah and between this time I did some laundry, vacuumed the house and tried to keep my neighbors and my children from killing Bobby the barking dog.

As I returned from my run I remembered I hadn't put the plastic spoons in the car to go with the mandarin oranges for the team meal--which made me thinking about lacrosse games.  JV at 4:15 and Varsity at 6:00--debated asking the boys if I could just come to JV so I could go to an Al Anon meeting at 6:00--decided to do it.  (They're quite used to getting texts from me asking these bizarre things.)  No problem they both said.  So off to the hospital I went.

As often happens at a hospital, everything was backed up.  I sat with the family for awhile and then realized I wasn't going to have time to get downtown to get my vestments for the 1:00 pm funeral that was way out east.  Thank goodness for best friends who are also priests--quick text to Emily--yep I can use hers.  As I'm leaving the hospital I see Costco-Mama mode clicks in--they need razors, deodorant and q-tips--forgot the Q-tips but got rotisserie chicken salad and hummus.  I consider that a win.  Off to St. Matthews to get Emily's vestments; pop into the nursery to see Charlotte (she smiled and waved her arms--yep walking on air).  Rushed home to put the hummus and chicken in the fridge and then out to Middleton for the funeral.  What an honor it is to be a part of these celebrations of life!  I decided to drive myself to the cemetery since it was across from Collegiate where I had to have the team meal put out by 3:15--multi tasking at its best.  As I'm driving down the interstate I return several calls (driving slowly and using speaker of course).  I should have stopped when I made one call and had to ask, "Who is this?  I can't remember who I just called."  Person answered and I responded, "Why did I call you?"  Yep--obviously too much going on.  While driving Caroline texts me she has detention and won't be done until 3:45--lucky for her I'm not going to be mad about the time as I've got pregame meal--detention madness to be determined.

As  I was walking behind the body to the graveside trying not to sink because I was still in my heels because once again I forgot to have a pair of flats in the car for just this purpose, I remembered that the last time I had pregame meal I also had a funeral--note to self remind everyone to be very careful next time I'm scheduled for pregame meal.  Got to school, meal set out, impromptu golf scramble meeting, Caroline finished with detention, jump in the car to head to lacrosse; I'm starting to relax.  Big mistake--phone rings.  Boss, "I don't have my uniform shorts can you run home and get them on the way to the game?"  Picture a triangle here--the points are the locations where I was, where I was going, and where the house is--but of course, what else am I going to do?  Return another phone call as I rush home, run upstairs (still in the heels), grab the shorts and back in the car.  "Caroline," I say, "I'll get as close as I can to the field jump out and give him his shorts."  Boss sees us coming--they run towards each other like long lost lovers in a field of daisy's with sappy music playing.  Boss grabs the shorts and I wonder where he's going to change--stupid waste of time wondering that--drops his shorts right there on the sidelines, grabs his stick, and races onto the field.  Great game--Doyle brothers on defense--big win!  I'm getting ready to leave the field when I see William warming up for Varsity.  WHAT?!?!?!?!  This is not what's supposed to happen.  I have a plan and my plan is to leave--how can I leave if this might be his first ever varsity lacrosse game not to mention (and really the reason) what if he gets hurt and I'm not here?  So I sit back down and Caroline yells down the bleachers, "Aren't you leaving for Al Anon?"  Now I'm transparent, but...

By half time I realize that he's most likely not going to be going in and I'm exhausted and uncomfortable, so I roll the dice and decide that it's worth the possible need for more therapy if he does get in (I've got a great therapist remember?) and head home.  Another impromptu golf scramble meeting in the parking lot and I'm out of the parking lot.  Just as I settle down in front of the news with a glass of wine the phone rings- (I really don't have good luck with ringing phones)-"will you be there in 10 minutes.  I've got SK's car ready." We've been waiting for this new (1990 lexus) car for SK; Chris is getting home tonight, we need this car, so I sigh and say yes.  Walt gets to the house with the car and I say, "let me get my purse and I'll drive you home."  Grabbed my purse but no shoes-I have on socks and my feet are still tired.  As I arrive at Walt's the phone starts blowing up--"where are we going to dinner?"  We make a decision; I think I have plenty of time so I go into Walt's to talk to Andrea for a few minutes.  Phone continues blowing up; they're already there.  I text SK and tell her where to go but don't tell her I have her car.  We get there at the same time--excitement and it's a way to be incognito until someone learns she has a new car--yep this is the way we think in our house during Senior Soaker season.  Boss looks down, "Mama!  You don't have on any shoes; they're never going to let you in."  I just walked in--at this point I just want to actually finish a beer and eat.   We're sitting at the table when SK's anxiety begins to rise; physics is calling her name so she decides not to wait--grabs her guns off the table (how many people can say that),  enlists Caroline to run decoy again and she's gone.  During dinner I'm trying to explain to Boss why his prom date doesn't want to go to prom in his truck.  He is really not getting it.  He tells me he offered to build her a step stool; I offer my car.  "No way!  That's a total soccer mom car." (great now I have another personality to had to my diagnosis).  We eat and head home.

As we get home I begin to think about relaxing again--Boss, "SK why do you care so much about grades when you're already in UVA?  You just can't fail."  He grabs her water gun and starts shooting her (yes this was in my dining room).  She gets wet but more importantly her physics notebook gets wet and she bursts into tears.  Boss clearly recognizes this isn't a joke and races upstairs to get the hair dryer. (Text from Chris--his already late plane is going to be later; he offers to take a cab.  I know I shouldn't do it but I agree.) The physics notebook is saved; Caroline is laughing hysterically which gets her ambushed by both big kids with water guns (yes still in my dining room).  William, "Does anyone know where my back pack is?"  All I can think is it better not be at the field; I should have been thinking, "It's 10 o'clock and you're just realizing you don't have your backpack--homework dude!"  Backpack found--I begin to sit down again thinking I'll have some silence when Caroline says, "Mama are we going to bed or watching some crime show?"  I know one day she isn't going to want to hang out with me--crime show it is.  Both of us begin to fall asleep so we decide to head upstairs where I remind her she can't sleep with me because Daddy will be home tonight.

As I climb into bed I have a brief moment of clarity (read sanity), "Yep, Becky's right.  It is nuts; guess I'll just have to embrace it."  And so I wake up this morning again believing I have control...

Therapy appointment set for next week...