Oh Boy, Do I Have Some Catchin' Up to Do!

Hey, there!  Whatchy'all been doin' lately?  Have you been wondering what I've been up to (other than not posting anything on this blog)? 

Well, hold onto your hats, because I'm going to take you on a whirlwind ride here through the past ten days.  A LOT can surely happen in ten days, let me tell you.  Not the least of which is seeing the baby boy in this picture (taken shortly after he was born in 1986)

holding his own baby boy 28 years later.  (Talk about deja vu all over again!)

But I'm getting ahead of myself here.

Okay, so we were out at Notre Dame (our home away from home) with our oldest and youngest sons (our "book end" boys) on October 4--not quite enjoying a tailgate in the cold, pouring rain, but muscling through it because that's what you do when you're a die-hard ND football fan--when we got a call from son #3 with some exciting news: it looked like Preciosa was in labor and they would be heading over to the hospital.  Not quite a week before his official due date, little G-Man realized that his mommy had had enough already of carrying around his 8 lb. 3 oz. self.  She was anxious to finally meet him, and being the good son that he is, he decided to oblige.

G-Man's "book end" Pearl uncles.

Like most first labors and deliveries, this one was long and tough.  Preciosa's mom and dad took off from Florida when they heard it was go time and drove 12 hours through the night, thinking they would probably arrive after their first grandchild had been born.  But even though Preciosa had been at 10 cm hours earlier, she still hadn't delivered by the time they reached the hospital.  After hours of pushing (too many hours, in my book), G-Man finally came into the world before lunchtime on Sunday October 5.  He and Preciosa were both battered and bruised, and the poor little guy had a bit of a cone head; but otherwise both mom and baby were doing just fine.  And shortly after his entrance into the world, G-Man met his maternal grandparents.

Papa and I were in the stands at the Notre Dame v. Stanford game on Saturday night while our poor daughter-in-law labored, but because of the miserable weather we left at half-time (something we have never done before--but believe me, the second half was a lot more enjoyable in the warm, dry living room of the rental house we were sharing with some other family members, including our oldest son and his wife and three daughters).

The next morning, we went to Mass at the Basilica, and afterward we hopped on a plane and three-legged it to VA to meet our new grandson, with stops in Detroit and NYC along the way.  By the time we got to the hospital Sunday night, it was after 11:00 p.m.; but visiting hours were 24/7, so we stayed for a few hours and got acquainted with G-Man, who is just as precious as can be.  Then we spent all day Monday at the hospital with the sweet little family of three and our daughter-in-law's parents, taking turns holding the baby and running out for not-hospital food for the tired new parents.

So, would you like to see some pictures?  Thought so.  But get prepared for some killer cuteness.  (And make sure to note the matching father-son going home outfits, which our boy received from his wife on Father's Day.)

So that was the biggest thing that happened since we last spoke, obviously.  After spending just a short time with this adorable little human (who just happens to look an awful lot like his old man used to look, back in the day), we had to get back on an airplane Tuesday morning and two-leg it back home.  Because bright and early on Wednesday, I was scheduled to have surgery to have one of my parathyroid glands removed.  (Remember I told you about that?)

So on the morning of October 8, I went in for surgery.  And while I was still in recovery, the doctor told my husband that all had gone well, and that in the hundreds of hundreds of procedures like this he's performed, my tumor-like gland was more than twice as big as the biggest one he'd ever removed.  It was about the size of a walnut, he said.  When my husband told me this, I immediately smiled and said, "I win!"  Because what I've learned over the years in my testosterone-heavy household is that everything is a competition.  Everything.  Of course, our boys came back with some hilarious comments when they heard I'd called myself a winner.  My middle son, the new dad, said, "Mom, you're the Lebron James of parathyroid tumors."  My second oldest son, who was texting to go over some details for his upcoming wedding, started with, "By the way, congrats on your award-winning tumor."  My older brother--my bestest childhood buddy and the guy who prepared me for life as the mother of a boatload of boys--said he was going to have the gland bronzed for me so I could put it in my trophy case. Is it any wonder why I love boys so much, and why I feel privileged that God gave me five of them to raise?

Anyway, I'm totally cured of hyperparathyroidism now.  The only reminder I have is a scar about 2-3 inches long on my neck, but over time it should fade and blend in with one of the natural creases that's already there.  For my son's wedding in November, I plan to hide it under my vintage "Pop-It Bead" faux pearl necklace, which I can adjust to any length I want.

(No, I'm not going to wear the awesome Etsy necklace I had made specifically for the wedding...because for one, it doesn't cover the scar; and for two, I totally changed my mind, ditched the pale green suit that clung a little too tightly to my nether region and had me worrying about undergarment lines, and bought a new dress at David's Bridal.  As I said, it's a woman's prerogative to change her mind...)

So, do you think all the excitement ended with the operation on Wednesday?  Silly readers, of course it didn't!  I spent Wednesday night in the hospital, and before I was discharged on Thursday morning, I asked the doctor if it was okay to travel by airplane the next day (because my husband got tickets to every single Notre Dame home game this season, you see, and the Irish were playing North Carolina on Saturday).  And he gave me the thumb's up, saying I could do whatever I felt comfortable doing.  So with the help of a prescription of souped-up Tylenol and some anti-embolism stockings to wear on the flight, on Friday morning I was winging my way out to the Midwest once again with my best guy in the seat next to mine.  After spending a night with our oldest son's family, we headed over to South Bend early Saturday morning to set up our tailgater and visit with two of my husband's brothers and their wives--and our youngest son, of course, along with this buddies and their parents.

The tailgater was worlds better than the one the weekend before, because this time we had glorious fall football weather: sunny and in the 50's.  It was a perfect day all around, ending with another Irish win.

Sisters-in-law make the best friends.

We drove back to our son's house in Michigan after the game, and Sunday morning we went to Mass with his family at their parish church.  Afterwards, there was a pancake breakfast in the church hall, and while there I had the pleasure of meeting one of my favorite bloggers, Dwija.  She is every bit as beautiful, funny, and charming in real life as she appears to be on her blog.  She and her little ones, with their deep-dimpled smiles, are utterly adorable.  I've now met three of my favorite bloggers, IRL (as they say): Katrina outside the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, just before Mass; Rosie when I was down in VA visiting my second-oldest son, just after Mass, as we were heading out the door of the church; and now Dwija in the church hall after Mass.  I think it's amazing--and totally apropos--that every time I meet a Catholic blogger I admire, it's in or near a church, before or after Mass!

Sunday, we two-legged it back home, and that's where I am now.  (Hi house!  I missed you!)  I'm using these rare days at home to get some things done (sewing flower girl dresses, writing the final chapter of Erin's Ring, etc.), and then Thursday afternoon I'll have a follow-up appointment for the surgery.  Once I get that behind me, guess what I'll be doing on Friday?  If you guessed flying off somewhere, you're right!  And guess where I'm going?  If you guessed down to VA to spend some more time with my little G-Man, you would be right again!  I plan to stay there for about a week and a half, and then it's back home to prepare for our road trip back down to VA for son #2's wedding on November 8.  Phew!!

So that's it in a nutshell, that's what I've been up to.  I've missed coming here and talking to you, but lately I've just been too overwhelmed by real life events to spend much time in the blog world.  However, I'm back.  And it feels good!

What I Wore Sunday (Volume It's Been a Long Time!)

Well hello!

Once again, it's been days since I checked in here at what I used to think of as a daily blog.  But I've been in South Bend, IN, and the house we rented for the football game weekend didn't have any WiFi (what?!).  I know I'm a day late and a dollar short here, but I thought I'd link up with the fine ladies over at Fine Linen and Purple on this Monday morning, something I haven't done in a dog's age.

In spite of the lack of Internets, our house was perfect--comfortable, well-appointed, and ideally located within walking distance of the Notre Dame campus...and also within walking distance of a favorite watering hole frequented by the Notre Dame 21-and-over crowd called the Linebacker...and somehow my husband's youngest brother (#8 in his family of 8 siblings) talked the two of us old fogeys into accompanying him to said bar on Friday night, along with another one of my husband's younger brothers.  We were there until the barkeeps turned the lights on at 3:00 a.m. and told us it was time to go already, standing in the middle of a crush of people who were for the most part a good three decades younger than we were, on the stickiest floor my shoes had ever come in contact with, singing along to "Sweet Caroline" and "Oh What a Night" like a bunch of crazy kids.  The youngest in our little string of four Pearls that night was 43.   We should have known better, but we didn't.

I texted our son, a 20-year-old junior at ND, from the Linebacker to tell him where we were, and he was quite amused.

So now, at the age of 55, I can say I went out and closed down a bar--something I never even did when I was a college student and it wouldn't have seemed so ridiculous.   And because of that, by Sunday I was still wearing thee biggest bags under my eyes that I've had in a long time (and that's saying something!).

For Mass at the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, I wore a black denim skirt I found at Goodwill for $2.99, along with an Audrey & Grace short-sleeved cardigan (with Pearl buttons, of course) and some silver Nine West flats, both of which I acquired on a shopping trip to TJ Maxx with my baby sister a couple of months ago.

Just before Mass, I was thrilled to have an opportunity to meet and chat with Katrina and her adorable little boy while they fed the ducks at the lake across from the Basilica (which I know from her blog is a routine Sunday activity).  Katrina was absolutely charming (and she was wearing the beautiful glow of a young mother who is expecting her second child next month), even more so in person than on her blog.  After following Cedars and Tiny Flowers for so long, I felt as if I knew her.  What I learned on Sunday is that she was introduced to her husband, who played rugby at ND, by a young man whose father played rugby with my husband back in the day.  What a small Notre Dame world it is!  So I was wearing a big smile on Sunday along with my eye bags, because I really was quite tickled to meet this lovely young woman in person.

My husband and I had planned to catch a flight back home sometime on Sunday, but we found out that our son's inter-hall football team was playing against our nephew's team that afternoon, and we decided to stay an extra day so that we could watch the cousins' teams battle it out.  Our son, whose defense position is DE, was determined to sack his sophomore cousin, the QB for the opposition, before all was said and done.  He got burned once when he missed a big tackle on a QB keeper, but ended up getting the big sack he was hoping for before the game ended in a 0-0 tie.  So on Sunday our son wore green and his cousin wore gold--and they're still as tight post-game as they ever were.

The boys with their SMC cousin, who cheered for both sides.

Needless to say, we saw much better football on Sunday than we did the day before at the debacle against Oklahoma.  I really don't want to say much more about it than that.  It was too ugly for words.   Pretty much every Notre Dame fan alive was walking around with an "agony of defeat" expression on his or her face in the aftermath of that disaster--that look, that's what they wore Sunday.  But seeing our boy put on a helmet and football pads for the first time since he ended his senior season in high school three years ago was very exciting, and it helped to take the sting out a little.  My husband and I wore nothing but smiles during and after that experience.

Okay, one last tidbit about things that were worn on Sunday: check out these ND-themed sneakers my husband wore (or at least tried on at the campus bookstore before purchasing them).

These Chuck Taylor-esque beauties are a brand new item, on sale at the Hammes Notre Dame Bookstore for the very first time this weekend.  They're made by a brand new company called Row One--and what's really exciting for us is that Row One is the brainchild of one of my husband's ND roommates.  This Class of 1980 alum has ten NCAA teams on his roster so far, and that number will grow with time to include many more.  So be on the look-out for these awesome kicks, sports fans!

Okay, folks--that's all she (and they!) wrote  wore.  Now head on over to FLAP, if you haven't done so already.