Oh Happy Day

On Sunday after we bathed the kids, fought and beat Sebastian's strict, "never ever wash my hair and if you do I will scream like a banshee" policy, got them dressed in their finery, changed Julia into lesser finery after she spilled coffee on her brand new dress purchased solely for the occasion, chased some Excedrin with some coffee, were only six minutes late for Mass, escorted Theo out of the pew for the majority of the hour, broke up a fist fight betwixt Julia and Sebastian in the pew, and made multiple donut bribes ... Phoebe Anika was baptized.

She was ecstatic.

Phoebe's phenomenal godparents, Jeff and Tara (although Julia insists we call them, "Tara and Jeff" ... logic trumps all around here). Before I go any further with the photo glut I have to sing-type their praises. They drove all the way up from Dallas and were great sports staying under our circus tent for the night. I went to college with Tara but really got to know her last year as fate would have it that we both lived in St. Louis. Happily, our husbands got along (or they do a very good job faking their friendship but ... methinks they don't) and we had a wonderful year of local friendship before they moved down to Dallas where Jeff is finishing law school. We had the BEST time seeing them. Phoebe is a lucky little lady to have them in her life. They are some good peoples.

Before Julia (successfully) bolted down the aisle, Sebastian happily followed, and Theo clung and continued to chew on his fingers (fie on you, molars).

Happy little christian.

Like the other kids, Phoebe wore my baptismal gown that Simon admired from afar at my baptism over 30 years ago. I've explained that Simon's parents are my godparents, right? 999 times, I think. One more can't hurt. ONE THOUSAND, for the dubya.

And since you're all Curious little Georges I'll have you know that we celebrated in style with some Dunkin' at a nearby park afterwards. Nothing but the best for our out of town guests. It was a weekend I'd happily rewind and replay multiple times. I always get anxiety over baptisms (yes, crazy is my middle name) but Phoebe did great, the kids did not great and it all sort of evened itself out. One of these days I'll step down from Crazytown but my surroundings are so familiar right now ... why move?

AND ... one more for the road.

And thus concludes the story of Phoebe's, "bath-tism" (Julia's ironic pronunciation).

Thanks for visiting.
I promise fewer Phoebe photos next time.
Maybe.
Baby.