Heaven on Earth

Is this what Heaven might be like for me?  Snuggling a beloved baby, whose precious sleeping face is resting on her Grammy’s shoulder?  I sometimes think so.

Of course, I realize that this is only the sort of Heaven a mere mortal's brain would conjure up. Being in the presence of Our Lord, seeing the glorious Beatific Vision, is reportedly something so incredibly beautiful, so awesome, that it's beyond my feeble human ability to imagine it.  I hope to see it when my life on earth is over. God have mercy on my soul, let me see it!

But in the meantime, there are infinitesimal glimpses of Heaven here in this earthly life, I believe.  And mine do look like this.

By the way, these photos were taken by my daughter-in-law as we sat on the couch together while the baby’s big sister napped, re-watching “Downton Abbey” and passing that little angel back and forth.  The new mom has been very generous with that darling baby of hers, sharing her easily with me when I know how attached she must feel in this early stage of her daughter's infancy.  I have the best D-I-L's, truly I do.  I always hoped that our boys would bring us lovely young ladies to love like daughters, and did they ever. 

I saw this X or IG post recently and thought I'd share it here; it's a must-read if you are raising a son who might take a wife someday.  It's perfect advice for any Boy Mom.

You too might have a slice of Heaven here on earth, when your son marries, if you heed those wise words!

P.S. Who is that old lady holding that baby?!?!  She kind of reminds me of my Grandma!

P.P.S. Happy Valentine’s Day! ❤️

A Mother's Heart

I found this not-quite-ready post in my archives, and I decided to finish and publish it today.  Because I'm on a roll here!  I go silent for three months...and then, boom! Back-to-back posts.  You never know what you're going to get at this blog!

I have mentioned this before here at the blog, but I just love the writings of Elizabeth Foss.  She is a homeschooling mother of nine, a grandmother, a blogger, an author, and a well-known Catholic "influencer."  Just like I did, she married her high school boyfriend, so I feel a special kinship with her. She's about ten years younger than I and still has a couple of high-school aged daughters.  But otherwise, she's very much in the same phase of life that I am: her children are grown and gone (or in her case, all but the youngest two are); and therefore, like all of us women with grown children, her heart is repeatedly being torn, scarring over, and then tearing again.  Not to put too dramatic a spin on it...but it does happen. Luckily, the heart it a tough organ.  Especially when it’s a mother's heart.

Elizabeth Foss lived in VA for many years, until a relatively recent move to CT.  She still has a column in our diocesan newspaper here in VA, The Catholic Herald.  Hers is the one article that I never fail to read when we get this paper in the mail.  Foss’s piece from the June 13-16 edition was titled "Note to a grad's mom,"* and boy-oh-boy, could I relate.   It's been a while since our last Pearl family graduation (our youngest son was University of Notre Dame, Class of 2015), but the memories of those bittersweet endings are still fresh.

Yes, graduations are not just endings but also beginnings (it's an overused cliche because it's true).  And there is so much to be joyful about, watching your children spread their wings and fly.  But they fly away from you, you see.  And a mother's heart takes a beating when that happens.  It still beats, sure; but oh, it aches.  The pain can be excruciating at times.

That Catholic Herald column of Foss’s that I mentioned above was inspired by witnessing a mom crying on her husband's shoulder after their child's high school graduation ceremony and party.  Foss writes, "The words of encouragement out there for moms of graduates all focus on a job well done and they pivot to look to the opportunities to pursue their own dreams in an empty-nest future.  And of course, those should be addressed.  Raising a child is no small thing. You deserve a hearty pat on the back.  But most moms don't feel like doing a jig.  Instead, they feel like they ran out of time.  There is a nagging feeling that we have so much more we want to give to the grown child."  

Yes, yes, YES!  This is spot-on--which is par for the course when it comes to Elizabeth Foss's eloquently expressed insights on motherhood.  

She continues, "I think that mothering people in their 20s is the most challenging mothering of all...Those are the things no one says.  It's not all over.  Buckle up.  Here comes the wild ride for which everything leading up to this moment has just been preparation."  I would only amend that last quoted section to read "people in their 20s, 30s, and 40s," because I don't even have any children in their 20s anymore.  (What?!  When, and how, did that happen?!)

Foss addresses this topic again in a June 13 post on her blog, In the Heart of My Home. She writes:

As I watch younger moms juggle babies and toddlers and big kids and try to be all the things for all of them, I want to assure them that it gets easier.  But I can't.  

I don't.

Because I don't think it does get easier.  It gets different.  In a lot of ways, it gets more challenging.  It's as if all the challenges of the younger years are designed to get you fit for the ones to come.

I was talking to an older mom yesterday about the choice we make to be peaceful with the way things turned out or to be bitter.  For some people, it is easy to be at peace.  For others, the choice can be the crucible where holiness is forged.

"The crucible where holiness is forged."  Wow.  That is some powerful writing, my friends.  And something to ponder…even for an extraordinarily fortunate mom like me, whose life has been mostly peaceful, whose heaviest cross these days is having to miss beloved grown children (and their children) who live much too far away.  

Because no matter how hard we moms try to be "all the things for all of them," we don't know what the future will hold for our children when they become adults.  As they say, adulting is hard!  Life will throw them so many curveballs.  And seeing them worry or struggle or suffer, when you can no longer make it all better with a Band-Aid and a kiss, is so painful for a mother.  Yet such is life here in the promised Valley of Tears!  Without faith, how does anyone endure it all?

If you can make it through the Mother-Son dance at your boy’s wedding without tears,
you’re a better woman than I!  (This is my baby, son #5.)

Well, I suppose it's time to figure out a way to wrap this all up.   

In a nutshell: yes, it can be scary having all grown children.  Worries don't magically disappear once your kids graduate from diapers, braces, and college; instead, they seem to multiply.

But so do the joys.  Case in point: check out this picture taken in July of our five boys and the five girls whom they married, and with whom they are raising 22 precious children between them (so far!).  These are ten of my favorite people on earth.  And if I hadn't let my boys grow up and leave me, they never would have given me these five sweet daughters to love.

Aren't these kids adorable?  (Rhetorical question, of course.  There can be only one answer!)

And here are a few pics of that high school boyfriend and me, after 44 years of marriage.  I'm so glad we ended up together; those five beautiful couples above wouldn't even be here if we hadn't!  (There are hardly any pictures of us together taken during the years we were dating, from 1973 to our wedding in 1980, because it was a whole different world back then--before the age of digital photography and home computers--and people hardly ever had a camera with them unless it was a big event.  Having these shots of us by the lake at Oyster Haven is very special to me!)

Life is good today.  And every day that I can wake up and say that, I feel blessed.

*That's the print copy title; online, the article is called "Note to the mother of a graduate."

Happy Mother’s Day to My Five Favorite Girls

I am a boy mom.

A very happy, totally fulfilled boy mom.

God gave me five sons, no daughters, and I can say with complete honesty that I never felt I was missing a thing.  I've blogged about this topic numerous times over the last decade-plus (it's one of my favorite subjects, I guess), but I'll just bother you with one link, to this old post  (if anyone reading this one thinks it isn't long enough already and wants some bonus reading!).

I adored my boys, and I thought that having a houseful of them was a unique privilege and honor (not to mention very high on fun and very low on emotional drama!).

I was not one of those mothers who looked at her toddler-aged old boy, filled with angst, and worried, "Someday, another woman will become #1 in his heart.  He'll get married and I'll lose him."  I'm so thankful that that's not the way my brain was wired.  (And I do tend to be a worrier; so I'm very grateful that I was not plagued with those particular sorts of anxieties about the future.)  I just enjoyed my passel of boys at all of the various stages of their babyhoods and childhoods and young adulthoods (even the teen years, which don't have to be a nightmare--so don't let anyone make you believe, and even assume, that will be the case!).  I loved having them all living under our roof, but I knew they would eventually grow up and leave me. And I knew that I would no longer be the #1 woman in their lives, once they got married and their wives took that spot.

BUT!  (And this is a big but, and I cannot lie...)  #sorryaboutthat  #acomedianiamnot

Moms of boys: be not afraid of the girls who will supposedly “take your boys away from you”—it doesn’t have to be like that!  If you've raised them right, in a loving, stable household with your strong marriage as a model, chances are good that you're going to love and approve wholeheartedly of the girls they choose.

Trust that they will choose well.  Support their choices.  Think of those girls as true daughters.  And if you’re as lucky as I am, you won’t even have to try very hard to think of them that way.

I should have said up there at the beginning that I was a boy mom.  Because now I have five girls, too.  And I can no longer imagine what our family would be like without them.

Our five sons and five daughters.  (And one photo-bombing grandson.)

I was just about to share a link back to another ancient post in my archives, one written in 2013 after the birth of our oldest son's third daughter (the first two were twins, born less than two years earlier).  But if you want to skip reading the whole thing, I’ll retell the part that ties in with this post today:  

My husband and I were still living in NH at the time; we'd flown out to CO to help with the twins while our son and his wife were in the hospital with the new baby, and then we stayed on for about a week after they got home.  On the last night of our stay, our daughter-in-law Regina's mom flew in to help out for the week following our departure, so we overlapped for one night before our flight out the next morning. 

Although I have always had a wonderful relationship with Regina, and I knew how grateful she was that my husband and I had come out to help, when her mom arrived, I was struck by the strength of that beautiful mother-daughter bond between them.  How precious that relationship is, especially when a daughter has become a mother herself.  When I went to bed that night, I was plagued by the thought that in some ways,  I had become a bit irrelevant.  I was no longer the most important woman in my son's life; that woman was now his wife--which is absolutely as it should be, and I'd be concerned if that wasn't the case!  And the most important woman in my daughter-in-law's life was, of course, her own mother.  So where did that leave me?

I felt weepy as I got ready for bed that night.

Well, I think Regina must have been a mind reader or something, aware of my need for some sign--some words of affirmation, perhaps--proving that I still had an important role to play in the lives of our children.  On the way to the airport, our son drove and my husband sat up front with him, while I was in the back seat (still brooding about becoming irrelevant).  With no fanfare ("Oh yeah, Regina said to give you this"), my boy handed a little gift bag back to me.  What was this? 

Inside the tissue paper I found a small rustic wooden sign with these words painted on it: FIRST MY MOTHER-IN-LAW, NOW ALSO MY FRIEND.   Well, dear readers...if I said there weren't any tears over that unexpected gift, I would be lying.

And there have been many more happy tears shed in the ensuing years, brought on by the sweet words and gestures of not only Regina, but the four other girls who eventually joined our family.  These amazing gals have all become dear friends and so much more.  They are outstanding wives to our sons and devoted mothers to our 22 precious grandchildren.  They visit us often and generously share their children with us.  They make it very clear that it is important to them that their kids' grandparents are a big part of their lives.  They seem to really like us!  (And if not, they are great actresses!)  Truly, we are inordinately blessed in this regard.

My daughters-in-law text me often (more often than my boys do, to be honest--ha, ha!  Are you surprised?).  If a day goes by and I haven’t heard from at least one or two of them, I get a bit worried (and I miss them!)--that's how often we're in touch.  Most of the time, it’s just random chit-chat, family news, and information sharing; but sometimes, the words are profoundly moving.

Here are snippets from just a few of the texts I've gotten over the years; they warmed my heart so much that I felt the need to screenshot them for safekeeping.  (I used to keep special letters I'd received in the mail stored away in a shoe box...I think of these texts as letters, 21st-century-style!  And I'm storing them here at the blog. )

If you don't come here often: we moved to from NH to VA in 2017
in order to live close to three of our five boys.

After the birth of a new grandchild, we don't need thanks from our girls.
We want to thank THEM, for wanting us to come and meet the baby ASAP!

How blessed am I?!  These girls make me feel so loved and appreciated.  Relevant, even!  (Ha ha!)

I was just getting ready to wrap this post up when another sweet text from one of our daughters-in-law popped up on our family stream.

I didn't "lose" my boys; I gained five girls.  And just like with our sons, they're all favorites.  It's a five-way tie.

Happy Mother's Day to the best daughters-in-law a boy mom could ever ask for.  I thank God for you every day!  XO XO XO XO XO

Life is Short, Use the Silver

I was inspired recently by one of my daughters-in-law, Ginger (wife of son #2), who texted me a photo of my boy dutifully polishing up a huge silver urn that she'd found at a thrift store.  (He's a good sport, that boy!)  I have silver serving dishes that had been packed away in boxes for ages, some that were gifts at our wedding 43 years ago; and after getting that text, I decided that it was time to break them out and polish them up.  Yes, it was time to start enjoying them on a regular basis, even when it's not a holiday!  Life is short, use the silver--that's my new motto.  :)

Before I continue, I'll tell you a little bit about this particular daughter-in-law: she is the queen of finding incredibly beautiful and ridiculously inexpensive treasures at the thrift store, and she has begun to embrace what they call the "Grandmillennial" decorating style, which is also sometimes referred to as "Granny chic."  This style incorporates many classic, traditional (read: old-fashioned) elements that were beloved by gals of my generation and our mothers--dark wood furniture (often antique); overstuffed couches and chairs upholstered in toile or floral chintz, with ruffles; wallpaper; blue and white china; silver and crystal, etc.--and uses them in fresh ways alongside modern pieces.  This warm, cozy, and eclectic decorating style is nothing new, but for a time it was considered stuffy, outdated, and cluttered-looking; therefore, you can find lots of items that fit the bill at the thrift store, because so many young people have not been interested in holding onto their grandparents' heirlooms! However, in recent years there has been an increasing appreciation for traditional home decor among some millennials, who for a time embraced a more pared-down, minimalistic decorating style (or Joanna Gaines's trademark all-white, wood, and metal aesthetic), but have begun to incorporate the furnishings and home accessories of past generations into their 21st century homes.  Ginger is one such millennial.

So, taking a cue from my sweet grandmillennial D-I-L, I went through some boxes in our basement storage room and got out my wedding pewter and silver, which I hadn't even set eyes upon in the seven years we've lived in this VA house.

Pewter doesn't tarnish as much as silver, but these still needed a little TLC.

I got out the silver polish and shined up these beauties!

One of the most beautiful pieces I own was actually a 25th anniversary gift from my mom and dad.  It's an antique chafing dish; I'm not quite sure of its origin, but I'm going to ask my mom about it the next time we talk.  Wherever it came from, it's just spectacular.  I can't believe it's been languishing in storage since we moved in here!

What is pictured here would have to be considered Granny chic decor.

Look at that beauty!

The other thing I decided to do was to put some of my wedding cutlery into regular use.  As a bride-to-be, I registered for some high quality Oneida stainless flatware (my mother's generation would register for silver or silverplated flatware, but few gals of my generation did so), and we received service for 20, along with a number of matching serving utensils.  The pattern is so pretty. 

Each place setting is 5 pieces.

I had 8 place settings of lower-quality Oneida stainless that was our "everyday" silverware, so I saved those 20 settings of the good stuff to use on Thanksgiving and Christmas, planning for the far-off day when I would have a family big enough to have to use them all at once for a special occasion.  (Goal achieved--ha ha!)

Anyway, while I was polishing up my wedding silver, one thing led to another.  And I got to thinking that our everyday flatware was getting kind of sorry-looking.  We still had 8 matching knives and dessert forks, and 7 soup spoons; but we had gotten down to one dinner fork and one teaspoon from the original set, so over the years I had gotten random pieces to fill in, either at Walmart or at the Oneida outlet, and the silverware drawer in the kitchen was filled with a mismatched mash-mash.  And most of our teaspoons were a tad nicked-up, after run-ins with the garbage disposal.  (Oops.)

So I decided to empty out the drawer and fill it with 8 lovely matching place settings of my wedding flatware (and to be vigilant about always checking to make sure that the garbage disposal has only food scraps in it before turning it on!).  The older I get, the more I realize that life is short, and we should use the pretty stuff now. Because if not now, then when?  And besides, even with 8 place settings in daily use, we are still left with 12 more stored away in the dining room, to break out for holiday dinners or whatever.

I definitely need to take good care of this beautiful flatware, however.  When I looked up my pattern online, I realized how expensive it would be to replace lost or garbage disposal-chewed pieces!

So that's my advice for today: don't wait for a special occasion to use all those lovely things you got as wedding gifts.  Every day is special.  Life is short, so use the silver.  And the pretty china.  And your "good" flatware.  And, well, you get the idea.

We often use paper products with these little peeps (son #4's gang);
but they know it's a special meal when we eat on the good dishes!

Just Because: My New Favorite Heroine, ST. RUTH!

This is becoming a huge favorite of mine--this "Just Because" link-up with Rosie over at A Blog for My Mom. Back in 2011 when I started my little String o' Pearls (the blog formerly known as String of Pearls), Rosie was one of the first Catholic bloggers I discovered, followed, and corresponded with.  I'm so glad that she's still here, when so many of the other gals I used to hang out with in the blogosphere have abandoned this platform for the more popular, higher visibility world of  Instagram (which I kind of did, too, I must admit--that is, before I decided to give up my other social media accounts, cold turkey).  Thanks, Rosie, for sticking around, and for giving the rest of us die-hard bloggers a place to connect each week! 

I mentioned in a post not too long ago that my husband and I are doing Ascension Press's Bible in a Year with Fr. Mike Schmitz.  Wow!  Just wow.  I can't recommend this podcast series highly enough; I'm telling you, it has been kind of life-changing for me.  As a cradle Catholic who loves and tries to live her Faith, it's embarrassing to admit how little time I have spent in my 62 years on this planet actually reading the Bible (and I'm a person who LOVES to read!).  I am learning so much, and I can't think of a better teacher than Fr. Mike, who explains each day's readings with gentle humor and enormous compassion.  And boy oh boy, do we humans need a lot of compassion and forgiveness!

Human beings being prone to sin is not a new concept; one need only to read the Old Testament to understand how very fallen our nature really is, and how much we need God.  I look around the world today and am shocked and dismayed by how far from God and His teachings it has wandered; but reading the Bible makes me realize that what we are seeing these days is nothing new.  From the earliest days of human life on earth (pretty much on day one we had the Adam and Eve debacle), this turning away from God has happened over and over and over--indeed, we are a "stiff-necked people."   God's chosen people, the Israelites whom He brought out of slavery in Egypt and promised a land flowing with milk and honey,  kept messing up--big time!--and then desperately beseeching His forgiveness and help.  And time after time, God in His infinite mercy saved His people from utter disaster.  The tale of human history that the Bible tells illustrates beyond a shadow of a doubt that God gave us the Ten Commandments for our own good, not to make our lives harder but to make them infinitely easier.  It's only when we break those commandments that we suffer in body, mind, and soul.

Anyway, today is day 97 out of 365, and we've already read through Genesis, Job, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Judges, and Ruth, with portions of Psalms and Proverbs mixed in there, and we are currently going through the first book of Samuel. And I have to say, I have become a great fan of Ruth, about whom I knew very little before starting this Bible in a Year study.  The Book of Ruth is just four chapters long, but it made quite an impact on me.

You probably know the story of Ruth already; but I'll give a quick synopsis of it here anyway.  An Israelite man named Elimelech (husband of Naomi) and his two sons, Mahlon and Killion, all die, leaving three grieving widows.  Ruth, the widow of Mahlon, is a Moabite.  She was raised in a pagan family but is drawn to the faith of her husband's family. Naomi loves her daughters-in-law very much, and they in turn love her; but nonetheless after her sons' deaths she encourages both of them to return home to their parents, so that they will not be destitute.  But Ruth is so devoted to Naomi and her new faith that she refuses to return to her own people.  "Whither thou goest, I will go.  Thy name shall be my name, and thy God my God," declares Ruth.  

Ruth is considered a model of bravery, faith, and obedience, and she is rewarded for these traits.  She is determined to support herself and Naomi and goes to work for a man named Boaz, who is a kinsman of her late husband, toiling in his fields from morning 'til night.  Boaz ends up marrying Ruth, and from their line comes their great-grandson,  King David.  And of course, this means that Jesus is a direct descendant of Ruth's.

After we finished the Book of Ruth, I told my husband that I thought I should make my five daughters-in-law read it, if they haven't already.  You know, as a reference, as a guide for how to act if you want to be Mom Pearl's favorite.  Ha ha!  (Seriously, though, I would never ask my girls to leave their people for my sake; but I know that they would do just about anything for me other than that, and I am not exaggerating when I say that I am an exceedingly lucky mother-in-law. And I have five favorite daughters-in law.)

Here at the blog, I've named my girls Regina, Ginger, Preciosa, Braveheart, and Babisiu. I think perhaps I shall rename them Ruth 1, Ruth 2, Ruth 3, Ruth 4, and Ruth 5 (with their numbers corresponding to their husband's birth order).  What do you think?

I wish I had a picture of all five of my daughters-in-law together, but unfortunately I don't.  (Babisiu/Ruth 5, in those last two pictures, just joined us in 2019, and she and our youngest son are the only ones who don't live close-by in VA. YET.  #goals)

I'm ashamed to admit that I always thought that familiar line, "Whither thou goest, I will go," was meant to be romantic.  It reminded me of something one of the Bronte sisters might have penned for a desperate female character to say to a handsome and mysterious love interest who was about to leave her behind.  But instead, it is actually a much more deeply meaningful sentiment than any you might find in a fictional love story.  Ruth's refusal to leave Naomi is especially poignant when you realize that at that time, in that part of the world, if a widow didn't return to her family in order to find a new husband among her kin, she would be destined to a life of poverty and loneliness. Ruth was brave enough to face such a future if necessary, out of love for Naomi and devotion to her God.

I just love hard-working, self-sacrificing, God-fearing Ruth.  She's my new favorite Biblical heroine.  And I bet she was Naomi's favorite.  [Insert winky-face emoji here.]

That's it for me. Now whither shall thou goest?  How about thou goest on over to Rosie's?  

Hola, Hermosa!

Remember this post that I wrote back in May, in which I told the story about how our third- and fourth-born sons and their wives announced that grandchildren #15 and #16 were on the way?  (They did so in hilarious fashion--it's a fun post, if you haven't read it yet and you'd like to take a minute to do so.)

Anyway, #15, a sweet granddaughter, came in October, and I wrote about that new little one here, in a post titled "Hola, Hermanita!"  She got a Spanish blog handle because her mama is of Spanish descent.  Well #16, another precious granddaughter (bringing the String of Pearls total to 9 granddaughters, 7 grandsons, so far), is part Hispanic as well.  Her mama is half Cuban.  So this new little Pearl gem is going to be known here at the blog as "Hermosa."  She joins brother G-Man (5), sister Princesa (3), and sister Rosita (2).

On Nov. 9, the Saturday before Hermosa arrived, my daughter-in-law Preciosa was 39 weeks along and feeling as if she could go at any time (she'd been five days early with her first three babies).  My hubby was on a trip, so I asked if they'd like me to come and help out for the day, and said if they wanted I could even stay overnight just in case things got going.  We live about 35 minutes away, and I probably would have made it in time if I'd gotten the middle-of-the-night call; but I was alone anyway, so I thought, why don't I just come for a sleepover?  Preciosa's mom was en route, driving all the way up from FL to help out with the three older kids when her daughter was in the hospital having the baby.  But she was not due to arrive until Sunday--so my boy and his better half were all for the idea of me staying the night.

The baby did not come on Saturday.  But I got to have movie night on the couch ("The Grinch," a new animated version), in jammies with popcorn, with my adorable grandchildren.  So it was a win for me.

It had previously been decided that if Preciosa didn't go into labor on her own over the weekend, she would be admitted to the hospital on Monday morning and labor would be induced, so this is what eventually happened.  I had been relieved of childcare duty on Sunday, after Preciosa's mom arrived.  But on Monday afternoon, I took over for her so that she could be there while her daughter was in labor.  As it turned out, she was also there in the room when the baby was delivered and this was a thrill for her, as it was the first time she'd been present.  (She'd been at the hospital when each of her older three grandchildren had been born, and had met them shortly after their births.)  My husband joined me for babysitting duty at about dinnertime, and after we'd gotten the kids to bed we waited together for the news, which came at about 7:30 p.m.

We received some pictures of our precious new baby girl via text.  What a wide-eyed little beauty!

We headed back home Monday night, because my husband had a work trip scheduled the next day.  But I was able to go over to the hospital and meet this newest addition to our ever-growing family the evening following her birth.

I have to say that I thought she was the most beautiful one-day-old baby I'd ever seen.  Well, at least since last month, when I saw one-day-old Hermanita.  And actually, since the times I've seen every single one of our 16 grandchildren at a day old.  (That's not me being biased, that is just objective truth!  We have the most beautiful grandchildren on the planet!)

Yes, son #3 and his wife have certainly got their hands full these days...but their hands are not as full as their HEARTS!

And this Grammy's heart is pretty full as well.

Blog Handles for All My Peeps

I know that some bloggers use the real names of all their family members when they write about them.  But for some reason, when I joined the blogosphere in 2011 I thought it best to give all of my peeps aliases.

I was a little boring when it came to my husband (I simply call him my husband here at String of Pearls, or sometimes my guy) and my sons (#1 or my firstborn, #2, #3 or my middle son, #4, and #5 or my baby.  Pretty creative, huh?).

But in 2009, a new member was added to our original "Big 7" (shameless This Is Us reference, #sorrynotsorry), and I had to come up with a name for her.

When it came to the daughters-in-law, I was kind of forced to get more creative.  I mean, wouldn't it have been tiresome to call them the wife of son #1, son #2's wife, and so on?  I wanted to think up some fun aliases to use here at the blog.  I really put some effort into it, and here are the handles I gave to our sons' wives after they joined our clan.

Wife of son #1: Regina

Wife of son #2: Ginger

Wife of son #3: Preciosa

Wife of son #4: Braveheart

Here I am surrounded by these four sweet girls (first my daughters-in-law, now my precious daughters and friends) when they were all at our old home in NH for Christmas in 2014.

I have special reasons for choosing each of those names for these girls.  And now that my baby is about to get married and I'm going to have to call his gal something more inspired than my baby's wife, I wanted to come up with the perfect name for her, too.  And I think I found it.

I'm going to call her Babisiu.

As with all the names, this one has a special origin and meaning for us.  The word babisiu means "baby" in Polish.  This future daughter-in-law of ours, who is our baby's baby, has some Polish blood in her--so that's one reason I chose it; but also, in December of 2017, we flew to Poland and picked her up at the airport, and then the three of us traveled about five hours through dark and deserted rural back roads to meet up with our youngest son, who was on a deployment there at the time and had four days of leave just after Christmas. We had a short but wonderful Polish holiday together in a beautiful city called Bialystok--so always and forever, she shall be my Polish girl with a Polish blog alias.

There they are, our baby and his Babisiu, enjoying a delicious steak dinner with us on our last night in Bialystok.

Our grandkids have some interesting names here at the blog, too.  This is the line-up, oldest to youngest (so far!):

Twins: Bonnie Babe and Cutie Pie

Little Gal

G-Man

City Girl

Junior

Princesa

Jedi

Triplets: Pumpkin, Peanut, and Paquita

Rosita

Simba

Topper

I actually have a lot of fun deciding what to call everyone.  Lucky for me, because soon I'll have to come up with some more names for grandchildren who are currently in utero.  I hope I don't run out of ideas!  (But if I do, what a wonderful "problem" to have, don't you think?)

Celebrating the Bride-to-Be (A New Pearl to Add to Our String)

Last Sunday, I left upstate NY--where my husband and I grew up and met, and where we now spend our summers taking care of our "Oyster Haven" VRBO lakeside rental home--well before the crack of dawn, and caught an early flight to DC and then a second leg out to Michigan.  That afternoon, I attended the bridal shower of our youngest son's fiancée, who will become the newest Mrs. Pearl in September.

It was the most lovely and joy-filled shower, hosted by her younger sister (the matron of honor), and celebrated at the home of one of the bride-to-be's close relatives.

One of our other daughters-in-law also hails from the Midwest, and after repeated trips to visit with her extended family over the years, I am convinced that people who are natives of that part of the country are pretty much without exception some of the warmest, friendliest, most kind, unassuming and welcoming folks you will ever meet.  And I've also noticed a trend: the women out there really know how to cook!  (They all seem to make their own homemade jams--a skill that my jam-loving husband--who has to make do with Smucker's most of the time--surely wouldn't mind me acquiring.)

The food was plentiful and delicious, the guests were friendly and delightful, and the setting was comfortable and charmingly decorated.  The converted garage where the shower was held, now an awesome party room, boasted an idyllic lake view out past the back yard.

The games were mostly pearl-themed.  (Perfect!)

There was also a "Who Knows Her Best?" game, and the bonus question was, "What is the bride-to-be's favorite thing about the groom-to-be?"  My future daughter-in-law said that she almost answered "his sweet personality," but then couldn't decide on one thing; so her answer was "EVERYTHING."  (That is the only right answer for a doting mom to hear about her beloved baby boy, I can tell you that!)

She was a very gracious receiver of gifts--of which there were many.

My gifts had been purchased online from the wedding registry and sent to the address where the bride is currently living and working, so the only thing she had to open from me at the shower was the now traditional "Little Black Apron" that I like to give my daughters-in-law.  It comes with a string of pearls attached.  ;)

I also like to bring mine to their showers and have a picture of the two of us taken wearing them.  But you probably already gathered that!

There was one gift that was definitely more for my son than for his bride-to-be.  (Yes, it was actually on their registry!!  LOL)

After the guests had all left, I sat and visited with my sweet girl, her mom, her dad, and her dad's cousin and his wife (whose party room we'd been enjoying all day) and their five young children.  When it was almost dusk, her dad's cousin took all of us for a leisurely ride on his pontoon boat.  What a beautiful way to end a beautiful day.

After the boat ride it was getting kind of late, and I had an early flight.  So I drove my rental car back to my hotel near the airport, and before the crack of dawn on Monday, I was on a plane headed back north.  It was a whirlwind trip (and one I could not have taken if it weren't for the perks of my husband's airline job), but so worth it!

I am thrilled to welcome this lovely young lady into the family.  She's a kind, hard-working, faith-filled Catholic girl who loves my son.  And bonus: she loves to cook!  (You should have seen all the wonderful kitchen gear she put on the gift registry!) So my boy will be well-loved and well-fed--lucky him!