mardi party

The weekend was a big time whirlwind.  If I had blinked, I would have missed it. Thankfully I have mad staring contest skills, so I was able to avoid the blinking. Even though it was one of the speediest gonzales (anyone remember that politically incorrect mouse?) weekends ever, I did not feel much sadness over it because Monday had enough happiness in store to take the sting out of the fact that my sweet weekend mystery had so quickly been filed away in the “cases solved” section of my life cabinets.  The morning greeted me with grace in the form of blinking sunlight and not having, for a nice change of pace, to peel myself out of bed with the jaws of life while my eyes take the role of the rebellious teenager and refuse to obey my very reasonable request to open up.  Answered prayer alert. Beautiful day alert.

After a beautiful encounter with the Risen Christ in the Eucharist, I drove myself and some sweet soon-to-be-sacrificed-in-the-name-of-Monday-morning treats to Reston to have a pre-Fat Tuesday/Mardi Gras-ish party with some boss mamas and their ragamuffins.  In a moment of high school lingo inspired brilliance, I deemed this a “Phat” Monday party.  Totes Brill. I know. 

love is the secret ingredient to all culinary and baking successes in my life
i learned that from my momma

Just in case you were wondering about the definition of phat, I looked it up for you.  You’re welcome.  
phat:
adj. phat·ter, phat·test Slang
Excellent; first-rate:

This was maybe even the phattest phat Monday party ever.

Ridiculously first-rate delicacies to compliment our happily creamed coffee (I personally do not believe in being skimpy about the cream.  Captain Jim agrees and he definitely knows what’s up).  Plus lovely conversation with Mamas that can juggle a knife slathered in nutella in one hand, a banana muffin patiently awaiting its’ crowning moment (to wear a nutella crown is honor indeed for any baked good),

and a squirmy wiggly little person with a propensity to spot any treat from a mile away and make a bee-line for the nearest human to crawl over in order to deliver the sweet satisfaction of snack solely consisting of the sugar infused things that all the mamas (and their fake mama friend) are getting down with.  

blurry but full of love
Lianna wins patient and beautiful momma of the year award p.s.

Plus excellent conversations-talking of many things “Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--Of cabbages--and kings” (I got this quote from Anne Shirley, of course--she got it from a poem, of course).  

getting in some swaddling practice

The beautiful, the good, the true, the triumphs of life (Sophia rocking the potty training!), and that beautiful and purifying Lenten season on its’ way into our lives once again.  It was first-rate and excellent, indeed.  

After that I sallied forth into the world of 4-year-old that I have grown to love.

We went to the playground.  We had some quiet time.  Ella got the distinct privilege of putting my lip gloss on for me. 

We watched the Sound of Music.  And let me just give one massive shout out to the Sound of Music.  I love it and, what’s better, Ella loves it.  Sponge Bob Squarepants has not been drilling my brain with painful moments of pure garbage spewing all over the living room and landing in the kids brains (yes, it is that bad).  And if it’s not Sound of Music with the dashing Captain Von Trapp serenading us with Edelweiss, it’s the Backyardigans.  I can get with the Backyardigans and so can Ella and everybody wins.  

It was a happy, beautiful, blessed day with Jesus in every baby smile

every time Sophia said “hold you” to me

every pass of the nutella knife, every sip of the coffee, every play ground shadow

and every hug from Ella-those are not in short supply that’s for darn sure. 

He was most definitely in this gnarly tree.  Seriously, check that out for some creation proclaiming the glory of God.  

Also, a kid on the swings was shooting the breeze with their swing neighbor and this was the winning line: “What if someone who is 100 years old had a baby?”.  
Food for thought.  

We are about to be invited to join Jesus in the desert for 40 days.  We sang at Christmas time not too long ago “Let every heart prepare Him room”.  It is lovely to prepare our hearts to hold a new glowing baby.  Now He asks us to prepare our hearts with Him for the reason He became that perfect little infant. 

To remember the suffering that was to be so unbelievably intense, the Heavenly Father took Him into the desert for 40 days alone to prepare Him for it.  The suffering and death that gave us the gift of Eternal Life if we choose to accept it.  Let us accept it every day at every moment.  Let us go into the desert with Him so that the Heavenly Father can prepare us as well for the crosses in our life, or strengthen us even more for the ones we are already carrying.  

As St. Thomas (more famously known as “doubting Thomas”) “said to his fellow disciples, ‘Let us also go to die with him’” (John 11:16).  

Have a blessed last day in Ordinary Time, everyone.  I hope it’s a first-rate and excellent one.