Who else woke up cursing the time change? Not Teddy of course. He was so excited to lose another hour of sleep he was up all night screaming about it and still managed to rise at 6 a.m. with that big cute smile that saves him every time. What better way to hide the fact that I didn’t have the energy to shower then to wear bright distracting colors?
It’s all Old Navy except the Goodwill shoes and gifted tights.
Oh, and the stilts. Yeah, those are Addie’s. I was playing with them because it’s Mothering Sunday so it was all about ME,ME,ME and all my whims and desires. Until Fulton and Teddy started screaming, and then it was right back to being all about them. Don’t let all my self absorbed posts fool you. Around here I’m nobody except on my birthday and Mothering Sunday.
I know my friends across the pond are familiar with Mothering Sunday, but let me bring my American friends, raised on their Hallmark prescribed Mother’s Day, up to speed. From my husband’s liturgical blog,
“[Today] is Laetare Sunday, the fourth Sunday of Lent. As with other Sundays the name comes from the first words of the Introit, “Laetare Jeruselem” or Rejoice O Jerusalem! This is mid-Lent, and just like during Advent (Gaudete Sunday) the Church gives a reprieve from austerity of this season of penance. The idea is to remind us that our salvation is at hand, Christ will soon rise for the dead to free us from the slavery of sin, and this season of penance will soon be over. It is also to encourage us to persevere in our penance for the rest of Lent, and renew our dedication to this holy season. …
This Sunday is also known as Mothering Sunday in part because of the focus of the Mass on Jerusalem which is the mother church of Christendom, and symbolic of the Church, our mother. Many customs have developed around this theme. One is to visit your cathedral as the mother church of your diocese. Another is to visit the parish church you were baptised and confirmed in as your own mother church. Yet another is to visit your actual mother and do something nice for her.”
So today, our family went out to eat, I got a handmade card and gorged on gummi worms. Plus when I said “Addie, I’m not cutting up that watermelon for your bedtime snack!” Tony said, “It’s Mothering Sunday, don’t bother Mama. Put it back and get yourself something else.” And no eye rolls Woot! On Mother’s Day in May, we make it about the grandmothers. We send cards, small gifts or visit. Similarly, we do special stuff for Tony on either the feast of St. Joseph (March 19) or the feast of St. Joseph the Worker (May 1), depending on when I get my act together, while the grandfathers get their due on Father’s Day in June. Somehow, rebelling against the greeting card industry in this small way makes us feel very bad ass…thus my poor language.
If my bright colors and stilts didn’t distract you all P.T. Barnum style from the horror of rolling our clocks back, perhaps the rest of the lovely fashonistas at FLAP will succeed.
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