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St. Patrick’s Day – a day when everyone says “Kiss me – I’m Irish” – even if they are not! I have Irish in my lineage, but certainly a few generations ago! It irritates Hubby when people call themselves Irish (like me) because he is Irish. He immigrated with his family on a boat, when he was 6, but sadly, he’s lost his Irish brogue. Grr….

As a kid, St. Patrick’s Day was all about wearing green, drinking green milk (food colouring) or consuming Shamrock Shakes from McDonald’s. I can even remember eating chocolate cupcakes filled with green whipped cream (thanks, Mom)! It was always fun to celebrate!

In 2005, I had an exceptional reason to celebrate on St. Patrick’s Day. I was wearing a green velvet jacket and my green plaid kilt. And it was the day I found out I was pregnant with Little Guy. One of these days I’ll tell you about waiting for Little Guy maybe even this week, if I don’t “chicken” out), but just know for now that it was a long wait and an incredible faith journey. I took the pregnancy test at work, assuming it would just be another disappointment, in a long line of monthly disappointments, but when that “plus” sign appeared, I was in shock…then came the jumping, dancing and stifled screaming. Do you know how hard it is to dance in a small bathroom cubicle? That was a Thursday night. Friday morning, I tore over to the Dr’s office to confirm by blood test – and it was positive too! Hubby was home with the sniffles, so Big Guy and I threw our stuff in the car and headed to my parents’ to share the good news! I can’t believe that was 7 years ago! Little Guy is not the result of any “luck of the Irish” (a phrase not coined in Ireland since the Irish, historically, have never had ‘good luck’), but the grace of God.

Always remember to forget
The troubles that passed away.
But never forget to remember
The blessings that come each day.