Hard to believe she's not already a saint, eh? (photo by Jen)
The day very quickly became very HECTIC. Our schedule was:
Private Mass w/ Fr. Joe...........2pm
Private reception at our house...5pm
It was my bright idea to have the 'private reception' (read: 18 people including 2 priests and a partridge in a citrus tree) at my house. Do I need to explain to you the horror of the house after Christmas? The sprawls of wrapping paper, gently cascading over askew couch cushions atopped with piles of stocking stuffers, while piles of candy wrappers do a gentle dance with the tumbleweeds of dog hair...you get the picture.
I was flipping out a lil. Despite my team of devoted
Ooooh normally that would make me SO MAD. I would hop up n' down and puff and tell him he was a BIG MEANIE.
Instead I thought...who indeed. So I changed (into a dress that fit better, was more nursing-friendly, and was cooler) and really allowed myself to get excited.
It was so beautiful.
She slept through (practically) the whole thing.
Until she woke up for pictures.
I surprised myself by struggling to hold back tears. Why didn't anyone tell me this would be so moving? (cause most people can figure that out on their own duh) It started at the very beginning. As Father John said, "Susannah, the Christian community welcomes you with great joy," my sweet girl kicked up her legs and beamed a joyous smile to all her adoring fans. I began to cry. She is such a gift!
Zuzu with the best godparents a gal could ask for - Jenny-Jen-Jen and Tom's best friend, Father Joseph
I suddenly realized that I was standing here, on the threshold of the rest of her life. Day upon day will slip by, like glittering beads on a translucent string, and I will be busy at work, at work, at work in her soul, my soul, the souls of my family. Forming and building the kingdom of Heaven here on Earth, preparing myself and my own domestic church for Christ's second coming.
I kept crying and crying because it was resounding in my heart, the Truth and Beauty of my calling, the reality, the responsibility, the joy and really, the continued sentiment that -
I am honored to be her mother.