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August 17th
There are days in our lives that we remember as long as we live. And there are mornings when we wake up and know that today will be one of those days. As soon as I woke up, I felt the excitement, mixed with a bit of nervousness. I ran around the house streightening out, going over the day's schedule in my head. I was ready, for the most part, but still, with a five year old, a toddler and a six-week old baby, the odds of the day's events running smoothly according to a schedule are pretty slim.
And so, as we were ready to leave for Dante's Kindergarden Open House, Evan got a hold of my legs and cried: "I don't want you to go, Mama. I want you to stay with me." He was holding a Mouse Trap board game in its big box (too big for little Evan), and asked me to help him to put it together. Tears were filling up his eyes, as I tried to explain to him that we all needed to take Dante to his new school to meet his teacher and his new classmates. After a peanut-butter-and-chocolatte sandwich and a glass of milk, he felt better. But we were late, and I was already falling apart and snapping at Matthew (because he is the only person I can lash out at) - and the day hasn't even started yet. Fifteen minutes later, Dante held a canvas tote bag (which he decorated at our library on the Arts-and-Crafts day), heavy with school supplies as he waited patiently for his turn to meet his teacher, Mrs. Tucker. After he introduced himself, he went over to the bookshelves, picked out a music book, sat on a little chair by a little desk and opened his book. Mrs. Tucker was impressed. "He will be a reader, I can tell. He went straight for the books", she said. I was relieved. Mrs. Tucker is a very kind, very sweet lady and all the parents, whose children came through her class, talk very highly of her. And Dante... well, I am very proud of him. (and I still have till Thursday of next week before the school really starts... I'll cry later)		Dante and Evan - brothers and best friends.
If we lived in Los Angeles, this would never be possible, I thought, as Matthew let me out of our van in front of the flower shop in our neighborhood. All I need, really, is a nice French looking tote to carry my fresh cut flowers and my Baquettes in, as I walk down the tree-lined street back to our house. My Mama prepared a very tasty meal for the occasion - the baptism of our baby Blais. We gathered at our table - Matthew's parents, his brother, his sisters, our friend (and first employee) Jonathan, my Mama, our kids and us and thanked God for our blessings. The Church felt a bit empty and way too big as we quietly and reverently walked in. Father Ben (Matthew's brother) was waiting for us at the georgious altar of the old church. With a few of our friends there, we celebrated the Sacrament that Blais received. I sang the old Croatian hymn to Our Lady (Cuj nas majko). My mother was crying. I cried too. I sang. Then Blais woke up and he started to cry. Except his cry was much, much, much louder than ours. As a matter of fact he was so loud, we had a hard time hearing Father Ben, who's got a very strong speaking voice. (well, isn't St. Blaise the one we pray to for blessing our throats so we can speak and be heard?) There was a moment when Father Ben blessed Blais' ears and mouth and as he did so, the little baby reached for Fr. Ben's hand and held it for a moment. He quieted down after that. It was over. Now all that was left to do was to relax and spend some time with our friends and our family. Life happens so fast. And there are days that we will remember for as long as we live. Days that, when we look back, seem as if they were only a moment long.		My Mama prepared a very tasty meal for the occasion.
		I tried to calm Blais down (without being able to nurse it's not an easy job)
Happy birthday, Sanya!	August 17th - A Very Special Day It's a day when my sister was born. I remember I was five years old, and that day I was running a high fever. Partly because I was excited about getting a little baby sister who was going to be my playmate and my best friend, and partly because I was worried that getting a baby sister also meant that from that moment on I wasn't going to be the center of my mom and dad's universe. I never really had a chance to connect with my sister until she moved to Los Angeles a few years back. I realized I loved her so much - she was not only my sister but also my best friend. Now, I moved away from her once again. I didn't want to leave L.A. even thought I found myself complaining too much about the smog, the traffic, the stress. I didn't want to leave because of my sister. I miss her terribly.
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