This last weekend I met my hero, my role model. The gal who said that she started blogging by "taking a picture of her kid eating spaghetti out of the garbage and decided to share it with family." Yes, I model myself after her. She also got pregnant with her fifth child while living with her parents. So there was an instant connection.
It was a lovely day. The conference itself could have been mind numbingly boring (it wasn't) and I would still have loved it. Mostly because of the monsoon rain that had blown in, no really it was the remnants of a typhoon. And there were soccer games to be played. Three of them in fact. So having to stay indoors while not wrestling X-Man (who apparently found the largest mud puddle out there and laid down in it to exemplify his annoyance with the father figure during one of the games).....yes please.
The day started out lovely. Lots of friends were there. The conference was entitled "Catholic Women Rejoice." I observed that it was difficult to rejoice when there were no mimosas served with breakfast, but I'd survive. And so we went on a journey of encouragement and joy. And lost binkies. I missed a good section of the first talk because I was retracing my steps looking for a lost binky. I figured no one was going to enjoy the conference or do any rejoicing without the binky. I found it, stashed inside the baby carrier, the one I had searched numerous times, only after I retraced all my steps.
Then my hero spoke. Simcha Fischer gave a lovely speech. She spoke about how a mother will always pick up her dirty sticky little children, no matter if she's ready to head out or not. They were true words, and not the last ones to make me teary that day. Gestated Cinco, who was the one child to make the cut and attend with me, spent the entire talk trying to get herself under the table next to ours. Fortunately, this amused those sitting there. I, however, was perplexed how she kept getting herself over there. She was very dedicated in her efforts, and was rewarded by the doting of countless women. Later, she even had Simcha oohing over her. She's good that way, being utterly adorable.
However, this wouldn't be my life without some absurd situation created by my children. And Cinco certainly delivered. Over the last few weeks, she's practiced her vaulting. She's quite the bouncer now, up and down, up and down. She's also fascinated by food now. I've been holding off, I say I'm waiting until six months due to the father figure's absurd allergies. But there's a large part of me that is dreading the end of the not so horrible nursing diapers and more horrific diapers. Like the kind X-Man produces with impunity. So, I didn't let Cinco eat my lunch, although she continued to vault herself towards it, with arms outstretched and mouth open. I shared my food delaying wisdom with the other mothers. Mostly I just talked. I'm sure I said very wonderful, wise things. Things that a woman covered in feces would say....while people were attempting to take her seriously.
|this blog exists for pictures like this.|
I am who I am, so I took one look at myself and didn't really worry about clothing, or the fact that I was supposed to go to dinner with my role model that night. I thought "Hey, I know what I'll do!" So I let another friend worry about tracking down another sweater for me to wear. I marched myself up to the front of the room and to the head speakers' table. I found Simcha, tapped her on the shoulder and said "In light of your talk, about embracing those who are dirty.....wanna hug?"
|my role model and my little girl.|
Dinner with Simcha was lovely. I found that she was everything I envisioned but more. More humble, more gentle, more sincere. I really do want to be her when I grow up. She was so gracious and just down to earth. I really think she was surprised that so many women turned up to hear her speak. There is a real joy that comes from discovering that the woman you look up to is even a better person than you imagined.
After the wonderful day and night and Cinco's shenanigans, I wasn't even fazed to come home to a leaking roof.