Memory Eternal

This past Saturday was a commemoration of the departed called Saturday of Souls. We have several of these services throughout the year. I find this particular one special because it comes on the day before Judgment Sunday (or Meatfare) in which the Gospel lesson is about the Christ's Last Judgement of the earth.

It is an amazing blessing to me, and anyone else who has lost a loved one, to attend one of these services. I was not able to go this year because of Mommy duties. (It is difficult to go to even one of your favorite services when it falls in the middle of nap time!)

I was moved to tears that morning during our prayers as we "remember our departed loved ones, especially our beloved Moms." Saying these words and seeing my husband hold our beautiful daughter was almost too much to bear.

We named our little one Zoe for several reasons. First, after the Martyr Zoe who lost her life because of her unwavering faith in the Lord. Second, because "zoe" means "life" in Greek. How fitting that our first child, born exactly 9-months to the day of my own mother's death would bear the name "Life!"

Genetics are a strange and wonderful thing, and when I look at our new, little life I can see glimpses of Mom. I can't explain how strange it is to look over and see Zoe glancing at me with that slightly mischievous, 'Anne' look, like "I know something you don't know!" In those moments, I feel Mom's presence with me. I hear her saying, "Now you know how much I love you."



I love you, too, Mom.



Memory eternal, memory eternal, memory eternal!

Tag, you're it

I got "tagged" by my friend Caitlyn, the inspiration for this blog (after Zoe, of course.) She tagged me to put the 4th photo from the 4th album on my computer. Drum roll please....

This is the gown that I made for Zoe's baptism. I will probably post more about Zoe's Baptism at some point because it was one of the highlights of my life. Making this dress started that journey.

Until that point, I had never even considered the possibility that I could make something with such delicate (and expensive, sheesh!) materials. It was daunting, but I was in love with some dresses I had seen at the Women's Exchange in Memphis that my pocketbook couldn't buy me. So, I decided to give it a try.


It started with learning new vocabulary, like entredeaux. Yes, it's about as snobby as it sounds. Then I hand-stitched the delicate pieces together. I then put the dress together (after a 2nd visit to the fabric store to buy more lace to correct a mess-up) My godmother put in the sleeves for me. After all that work, I didn't want to mess that crucial part up, and I had never put in a sleeve before.

I am so happy with the finished product and would actually love to make another one. Although, all of our children will hopefully wear this one- Zoe's monogram is stitched into the slip of the dress, as will be the other children's.

Rubber Ducky, You're the One

One of Zoe's favorite times of day is bath time. No further comments needed, just thought someone might need a little laugh for the day, and the classic, wide-eyed Zoe face should do the trick!

Thanks to Liz for giving Zoe her favorite (and stylish) bath toy!

The Happy Spitter

A friend of mine just helped me start another side business. She contacted me about making some burp cloths for her to give a friend as a baby gift. So, I started thinking, "Maybe other people would like to have these, too."

So, I think I'll call my little creative endeavor "The Happy Spitter," helping to make the things that are not-so-cute about babies a little cuter.

If you want a burp cloth or a paci holder (pictures to come later) just email me! (Burp cloths are $5 a piece for monogrammed, or $3 a piece for plain fabric/ribbon) I have fabrics for boys, girls and either-or!

I heart you

Here are the Valentine's treats we made. Zoe was, as you can see, a whiz in the kitchen. XOXO!

Again, my name ain't June

{this is a re-post from when I only had one newborn...imagine what 5 p.m. around here now!}

I know it's not politically correct in this day of career woman/super mom, but I'm just going to say it...I love June Cleaver.

I love everything about her- her perfectly coiffed hair, having a piping hot meatloaf coming out of the oven just in time for her husband to get home from work and the kids to be done with homework, her peep-toe heels and belted, A-line skirts. I mean, what's not to like?

This iconic sense of perfection was in my head a couple of nights ago as I prepared to make dinner. I pictured Ethan walking in the door to a pink-cheeked, cooing baby and me putting the finishing touches on a perfect dinner- beef Burgundy (eating meat on a Wednesday is a reason to go all out!)
Well, my perfect evening got a little kink in it when Zoe started crying. I thought, "Hmmm. Nap time. It's not completely like I'd imagined it, with you playing happily in the kitchen while I explained all of my actions and the ingredients to you, but it'll do."

Now, normally I put her down in the crib at roughly the same times every day and she sleeps well. She's nothing if not predictable! However, this day was different. I read a book to her and put her in the bed. The crying started, and it didn't trail off after the usual 10 seconds. No- it got louder. I mean, A LOT louder. "She's fine. She's not hungry or wet, so I'm going to leave her be while I finish dinner."

Following my newly-found recipe should have been a breeze, too. I've made this dish before and it is really not complicated at all. I had gone to the store the day before, so I had all of the ingredients. All that was left to do was tie a little bow in my anthropologie apron and make the magic happen...

Not only was there no magic, but after my first taste-test I realized I had drastically over cooked the meat. Perhaps this was because, during the cooking process, I had to go into my child's room to rescue her from whatever it was that was causing the non-stop screaming coming from her room. Perhaps it was my ridiculous pride. Perhaps not.

Maybe it was the fact that, though my idea of 50's perfection is fine, it is (admittedly) romanticized and idyllic, if not completely unattainable.

In the end, Ethan probably walked into what every man coming home from work in the 50's walked into more-often-than-not: a disastrous kitchen, over cooked meal, disheveled wife with no makeup and certainly no coif, and a screaming, albeit pink-cheeked, child!

And so it begins- again!

The Sunday of the Publican and the Pharisee- already?!? Wait- is Lent about to start? What month is it? Where am I?

Instead of "Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner," these were the thoughts rolling through my mind yesterday morning in church. I thought it was any other Sunday morning- like there is such a thing in the life of the Church- only to find myself at the beginning of my 2009 Lenten journey.

All Great Lents, I have found in my short 4 1/2 years as an Orthodox Christian, are different.

My first Lent I was so enthralled with all of the newness. The services, the darkness, the incense (even thicker and more pungent than normal) the prostrations, how out of shape I realized I was when my legs were burning after 15 minutes in services. I wanted to throw myself head-long into Lent, especially because I knew that waiting for me on the other side was not only Christ's Resurrection, but my own new life as well, through the Sacrament of Holy Baptism.

To be honest, my 2nd and 3rd Lents run together. One memory that is both sweet and bitter is our attempt to read the daily Scripture readings and a daily thought from The Lenten Spring, by Fr. Thomas Hopko, to Mom. Sweet because we were all sitting there together, Bible opened, reading God's word as a family. Bitter because we were embarrassingly inconsistent.

Last year was strange. I was pregnant. I was struggling with sickness for the majority of my pregnancy, and was not fasting. It was the first time that I realized that fasting is an essential part of my Christian life. I always told people, "Fasting is not about the food." And it isn't, in and of itself. But, denying myself something- and for me food is a BIG something!- truly strengthens my prayer and my understanding of my need for God. In saying that it's not about the food, I was essentially saying that I could just as effectively "fast" while still eating whatever I wanted. Not so much...

This year should be one of the most interesting so far, as it is my first Great Lent as a mother.

My connection to the Theotokos is stronger than ever in my new role, and I am exceedingly grateful for that. It will take her powerful prayers for me to make this time of preparation fruitful. Too often I have gone through Lent denying myself of certain foods, but not denying myself of sin. It is my hope that I can put off my Martha spirit and focus on "the good part." With that goal and a bigger family to take care of, I'm sure it will prove to be another memorable Lent!

And so it begins

I have been convinced to start blogging. ("Twist my rubber arm," as my husband says.)

I did this for several reasons:

1. The vast amjority of our family is out-of-state. Since not many of them are facebookers, this is an easy way to see pictures of the little babe and get updates on our life

2. I think it may be beneficial, personally, to write about some of the things that go through my head during the day. I resisted blogging until now because I seriously doubt any of my musings will be of interest to the general public, or even friends/family, but maybe it will help me sort through things

3. In a web-world way, this provides much needed adult interaction in a day filled with cooing at my 6-month-old

Here's what you should expect:
- pictures of Zoe, and probably me gushing about how perfect she is
- latest sewing projects
- latest recipe attempts
- rambling about life

Sound good? I'm not convinced yet, but let's try this crazy blogging thing and see how it goes!