You Want Irish? I Got Your Irish Right Here!

When our son announced he was going to marry his girlfriend, Amy, he prefaced it with,

“Now, Mom, I know there are going to be some things you might have trouble with concerning her family.”

“Like what John? I think I am a pretty open person.”

“Well, they are Democrats.”

“So? I have friends that are Democrats.”

“And her dad is a politician. He’s friends with the Kennedys.”

“Ummm…ok. I know Lamaze breathing. I can deal with this.”

“And they are Irish Catholic. Very Irish CATHOLIC.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph … save me now!”

John marrying Amy and marrying into her very Irish Catholic, Democratic politician, Kennedy loving family is one of the great joys of our lives. There has never been, and we doubt ever will be, a better family on the face of this earth than the Brady family. We love them.

I am proud to say, Ellen Brady was my friend. She started off as the mother of my daughter-in-law, Amy, however it only took meeting Ellen that first time to realize she was true friend material. Never has there been a warmer, kinder more welcoming heart than hers. Each and every time we were together, it was always the same; A big, fat, Irish party! Forget that I don’t have a drop of Irish blood in me. All I had to do was eat, drink and be merry and I was Marla O’Hansen in their eyes. I have never felt more loved and accepted.

Seven months ago, Ellen left us. My heart still aches for Amy and her family. My heart aches. I miss her. This year, Amy is honoring her mother by walking in the 3 Day Susan G Komen walk. Here are Amy’s own words:

"On August 13th, I lost my mother to breast cancer. She was an amazing mother, wife, grandmother and friend. My life will never be the same; I miss her every single day. I have tried to participate in a fundraising event for breast cancer every year since she was diagnosed, but this year I'm going to do even more to make sure we find a cure for this disease.


Please support me as I take an amazing journey in the fight to end breast cancer! The Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure is a 60-mile walk over the course of three days. Net proceeds from the Susan G. Komen 3-Day for the Cure™ are invested in breast cancer research and community programs."

So, here is what I am asking anyone and everyone willing. Please help Amy make a difference by making a donation. There are two ways: you can go to Amy’s website and make a donation through Susan G Komen or you can go to BowsforBreastCancer.com and make a purchase with 100% of the proceeds going to the Susan G Komen 3 Day Walk, in honor of Ellen Brady’s life.

Would you consider posting this on your blog for others to have a chance to make a difference also? It would be so greatly appreciated.

One last thing, for those of you who are Irish, love the Irish or are loved by the Irish, please raise your Guinness and repeat after me….

Here’s to being in heaven 20 minutes before the devil knows your dead!

Erin Go Braugh!!

He says, she says

By kbxmas

When my son was a toddler he rarely talked. For about six months a speech therapist came to our house once a week and tried to draw out his words. Eventually he started to speak but still, he remained a boy of action and few words. Until this past year, that is. It's as if he discovered the joy of articulation overnight and now assaults us with non-stop verbal artillery. Take this salvo, thrown at me as I was pulling into the Target parking lot the other day:

“I just burped without making a sound. I wish my bones were superglued together. Mommy, when I opened my juice it 'sploded. In you van. Are you mad? I smell french fries.”

His words are like buckshot, tiny pellets of minutiae scattered to the wind. He'll throw a hundred words at me and maybe six or eight will stick.
My 7-year-old daughter on the other hand, chooses her words thoughtfully. Hers is the silver bullet tucked with care in her pocket, withheld until absolutely necessary, never wasted. They have the power to melt hearts and wound them.

Tonight she was harping on about something that was unfair so I sent her upstairs for a cooling off period, which only served to further stir her ire and as she made her way down the hall to her room she yelled the following at me: “I hate you and I will never apologize! And if I do apologize I won't mean it!”

While I should have been wounded by this, I've been hated by her enough times to know that it only lasts the duration of her time out and besides, I was too tickled by her addendum to be hurt. As predicted, once she was allowed back downstairs we made fast with a hug and a game of trash, in which she beat me soundly. Fortunately, both my children are fluent in the language of forgivemess, as are all children, in their wisdom.

I'm a bit apprehensive, however, for her teenage years, when her tongue may grow sharper and her cooling off period longer. At least I'll have my son to talk at me while I'm waiting her out. Unless, of course, they go changing on my again, as kids are wont to do.

Also posted on Wanderlust