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Crazy Mom Takes Four Kids to Omaha for "Getaway"

Yes. I am insane. Or I have balls of titanium, as my husband believes. Today after lunch, I loaded up my four and hit the open road. Three hours north to Omaha for a two-and-a-half day sortie. Our plan is to hit the zoo and the children's museum and enjoy hotel living. Basically, just getting the hell out of our house for a while. And my husband started a new job this week - so it's just me and the kids. The drive was fine. The two little ones napped for a while. They all watched some DVDs. And we got here without incident. At one point during the drive, my daughter asked me how many hours we had been on the road. It had been 15 minutes. (Also? She packed FIVE bags for the trip. I whittled it down to one.) But, so far, so good. We checked into the hotel. I sprung for a suite so that the little kids could be put to bed in a bedroom behind a closed door while the older ones watched a movie on the sofa bed. And now, the big kids are watching the movie and the little ones are STILL...
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How the World Has Changed

For most of the summer of 1988, I was in the Netherlands, living with a Dutch family. It was some kind of exchange program - I can't even remember the organization that arranged the trip. It was the summer between my junior and senior years of high school. Fast forward 22 years, my sister announced that she has a job interview in the Netherlands later this month and asked, via Facebook, if anyone had any Dutch language CDs she could borrow. I didn't but I did have my trusty Berlitz Dutch for Travellers still packed in a box in the basement. So, I dug it out to send. Published in 1980, it was kind of old by the time I bought it in '88. But, I figured, it's not like the language has changed. So, big deal. And then I leafed through the book. Page 22 revealed the first major change. Marked "Arrival", it starts with the helpful phrase "Here is my passport" (or "Hier is mijn paspoort"). Things get a little dicey further down the page though. In t...
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First Communion: Take 1

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My oldest child had his First Communion last weekend. It was rather anti-climactic - especially after they were able to taste unconsecrated bread and wine the week before (so there would be no gagging faces at the altar on Sunday). He specifically requested a bowtie - and so he wore a bowtie. I even learned how to tie it. Thank you, YouTube... Not much of a story to tell (much less entertaining than his First Confession ) but I'll share my favorite picture from the entire day. Our parish is overwhelmingly Hispanic. When I taught 1st grade CCD last year, the kids were named Tino, Isabel, Alicia (pronounced A-LEE-see-uh), Angelina, Yessenia, Oscar, Diego, etc. And Hispanic mothers and daughters really like First Communion (much like the Italian mothers and daughters in the town where I grew up). The dresses, veils, gloves, tiaras and satin purses were over-the-top. And many of the little boys were in head-to-toe white suits, white shirts, white shoes. So, my little Irishman looked a ...
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