Just Another Morning

Woke up early to have some quiet time (and to start the laundry so basketball uniforms would be ready for tonight)---within 15 minutes Boss was up (5:15 am) wanting to talk about spring break.  Seriously this child better become a lawyer--fortunately he was interrupted by his brother who was coughing up mucous.  (Okay maybe that's not fortunate for William, but it got me out of the conversation--it's all about me.)  Told William to get in a hot shower, put the monkey bread in the oven, and began looking for medicine.  Boss, "Mama I just have a cough it's not asthma."  "This isn't about you.  I'm looking for your brother."  Boss, "It's always about me and whether I have asthma. I'm pretty sure I've out grown it."  Seriously I just wanted some mucinex for William.

Caroline entered--"Can someone crack my back?"  I told her I only knew how to do it by stepping on the back--Boss, "I can do it.  Cross your arms."  (I'm not sure this is safe, but at least he didn't bring spring break back up). Everything seemed to settle down; I sat down with my coffee and to answer an email from a friend asking me about faith and parenting (she should probably read my response with caution...).  I didn't sit for long.

Caroline, "Are you sure my uniform is in the wash?"  "YES!" I almost shouted with a tone that said how dare you doubt me while at the same time I was heading to the basement to double check.  As I passed Caroline she also began coughing.  "It's starting to sound like a TB ward in this house.  And SK is at school sounding just as bad."  Caroline, "I know.  SK gave it to me."  I was halfway down the stairs but felt the need to say, "She may have given it to you, but she didn't even see the boys."  Caroline, "Obviously you are not a doctor.  I saw her and before I showed symptoms I spread the germs to the boys."  Why I walked back upstairs I'll never know, but I did and poked my head around the corner, "You aren't a doctor either."  "Katherine, I'm in season five of Gray's Anatomy.  I'm practically 1/2 way through medical school."

I returned to the kitchen with confidence that the basketball uniform was in the dryer.  "I'll bring it to you this morning."  Boss, "Wait, bring it at lunch so Charlotte can hang out with us."  I asked what time lunch was and realized I was going to be at a lunch at the same time.  "Well just drop her off with me and then come back and get her."  "Boss, I cannot drop a 2 year old off at Collegiate."  "We'll just tell people she's shadowing.  It's never too early to start looking at your high school options."  I think he may have been serious, but we finally agreed I'd come during a break--

As I was putting monkey bread in a bag for Caroline's friend Rachel who spent the night last night Caroline asked, "Can I have some coffee?"  I reminded her I've said no every morning.  Boss, "Why can't she?"  Caroline, "She thinks it will stunt my growth.  I mean look how tiny I am.  Even these (pointing to her chest) haven't been stunted."  "Caroline!!!!"  Poor Shawn who was facing Caroline throughout will just never be the same--what am I talking about?  I'll never be the same, so I fled to the den.  She followed....

Boss came in and started putting on his cologne.  As opposed to when he was in middle school and bathed in axe, he does a good job.  I looked up and he was spraying his pants.  "What are you doing?" (Why do I ask questions?)  "They haven't been washed in a couple of days.  I only have one pair." "Go get another this weekend."  Honestly he has a car, a debit card and has no problem asking me on a regular basis to transfer money.  Caroline, "You thought he was spraying his privates didn't you?" (She actually didn't say "privates" but I do have some filter...)  Rachel's parents will never let her stay here again..

"Y'all just go!"  They all walked over, kissed me and as Caroline added,"Katherine, don't forget to bring Charlotte to us."  I hope Charlotte's ready for this....

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."