The first difficult day was March 19, the feast of St. Joseph, followed by May 1st, the other feast of St. Joseph, both days full of celebrations for Josie and her patron saint. On May 22th, the day for little miss Rita, his patience was once again tested, a seemingly unending journey toward the feast days of his sisters with no sign of his own. “But, when is it MY feast day?” he would beg. July 25th, we would remind, at least 6 times a day. “Will I get cake?” “Cake is for birthdays, but we will see…”
Breaking the news that his special day is actually shared with his dad, the original James, only caused a mild sense of Spencer Pratt’s “I want it all to myself.”
The morning began bright and early, Florida style, with all three kids in the bed singing, “Happy Feast day to James.” Josie’s tendency to repeat every single word spoken by James in a language unintelligible to all but James and me, caused borderline fist fights throughout most of the morning, because, as James clearly understands, it is not in fact Josie’s feast day. The good news for the parents is James eventually figured out that Josie would stop saying “its my feast day,” if he stopped saying “its my feast day,” incessantly and continuously, so it was a win, win.
The boys fished on the docks as the sun rose and James experienced his first sight of a snook “nursing” daddy’s finger. Apparently, snook latch onto a thumb and won’t let go of it in the water after being caught, a phenomena I’m perfectly fine with missing, and I’m further horrified that James explained it as “nursing.”
We swam and had cake and ate his favorite foods and talked about St. James, the fisherman, thanking God for all that is good, especially my main men/toddler.
To James on your feast day,
May your vigor be virtuous and your smile wide and sparkly. May you love God with all that you are confident that He loves you more.
To Jim on your feast day,
I’m sorry your son bossed you around all day and picked all of the meals and activities. Since I’m the one who wanted him named after you so badly, I’ll take the blame and make you a cake of your choosing some other day.
Happy Feast Day to you all. Also, happy halfway to Christmas, a fact, I deliberately avoided communicating to my small children, because 6 months of “is it Christmas yet,” is something I wont miss hearing.