St. Patrick’s Day

My mother texted me at 6:15am to wish me a happy St. Patrick’s Day. I’m not going to lie; I was not happy about her timing. I could have…no, would have happily slept for another 45 minutes. 

But, whatever. She meant well and technically my do not disturb setting on my phone  turns off at 6am.

March 17 is forever marked in my brain as my son’s official due date. Now that I am older and wiser I know all about due dates as estimates, but in those early days March 17 was so far away and such a big thing to think about.  So for me, today is about my son first and foremost. 

I wore green eyeshadow to work. There’s not really much of an opportunity to get all festive when you wear a uniform (solid navy scrubs).  More often than not, we use stickers to show our holiday cheer. 

Kiddo’s school wears uniforms too and green is not one of the colors this particular school wears. I should have gotten stickers for him but I am still recovering from the Spring Break flooding that changed all the plans.  I don’t do change gracefully and it takes time back in my routine before I feel comfortably settled again enough to think about things like stickers for holidays. I can’t be SuperMom all the time. 

As it turned out, the kids were told about the pinching thing at school and instructed that one could gently pinch a friend who was not wearing green. Kiddo reports he was pinched by a friend but it did not hurt. 

A girl I work with commented that she would not be drinking on this holiday since she is currently pregnant. I very rarely drink anyway but it got me thinking about the celebration of this holiday.  The best I could do was the corned beef hash I found in my cabinet, which I found out isn’t even really Irish.  

There is a rumor in my family that we’re a little bit Irish on my grandfather’s side.  I identify with the genetic majority of my ancestry which means that I’m Norwegian. But the name I fell in love with and chose for my son is Irish.  The Goddess to whom I laid down offerings and directed my prayers during my pregnancy is Irish – Brighid. I had been a dedicated flame holder to Her for several years prior to my pregnancy. Maybe my heart is a little bit Irish. ❤️


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s