Baptismal luncheon

Baby S was baptised on Sunday amid a throng of visiting relatives and friends and neighbors. Since his first birthday falls in a time period when people wouldn't really be able to visit, and since many friends hadn't really seen him yet, we decided to make an elaborate party out of the baptism weekend and have a lovely buffet luncheon catered by well, yours truly with lots of help from my good friend Bea and my sister Jane.

Saturday we slaved in the kitchen, me my sister Jane and Bea. Friends dropped in and out all afternoon, grabbing glasses of water and teas and lingering over the ingredients in bowls on the tables. Ingredients like peanut butter and roasted pine nuts, fromage nature and mangoes caused wrinkled brows and evoked inquisitive "hmmms." Bea finally left me at the end of the day with a menu list and a fridge full of oversized ziplock baggies, neatly labeled for mixing the next day. I really have to tip my hat to her party planning skills. She's just one of these people born to entertain and even though she couldn't make it to the Sunday luncheon, she was the main reason it was a success.


Jane poses by the rapidly thrown together buffet tables we concocted Saturday night in an exhausted frenzy

Sunday morning we all casually strolled uphill to the church, all sixteen of us, with Baby S elegantly in tow. He wore his baptismal white: cotton elastic bottomed pants, a silken shirt and tie, ruffled silk socks and high top sneakers. He was gorgeous!


part of the crew casually strolling up the very steep hill to town


and then over half of the crew meets up at the top to take photos while we wait for those who took the funicular

The baptism itself was delightful in that our randomly chosen day happened to be Mother's Day in France. The priest was able to tie in the Virgin Mary and wrapped the whole Baptismal sermon around the immaculate conception. I found that amusing because of our own little immaculate "IVF conception" and while I know the catholic church frowns on the whole IVF process, the priest was certainly unknowingly echoing these sentiments when he sermoned about the virgin mother and her miracle son. Ironically the priest himself had been baptised on this exact same day 75 years ago and he talked a lot about that too. So, I think we chose the date well.


Seb holds Baby S as he gets doused by the priest


Seb and I posing with Dee who is holding Baby S

The party went very well considering the state of the house, which didn't improve as much as we would have liked. Friends and family overlooked the broken floors, the funny peach & pink walls with concrete chunks sticking out and we finally stuck some semblance of a doorknob on the door to the w.c. (that's bathroom for those of us who are American but my British friend always says..."there's no bath in there so why do you keep calling it that!?") We stuck candles everywhere and brought out plate after plate of yummy delights torn from the pages of Southern Living and Oprah magazine. Oh and the punch seemed to help draw everybody together too. I just love "punch" because even the shyest person will help themselves to another glass of seemingly innocent fruit juice and unwittingly get zonked. I know this isn't really the goal of this type of proper luncheon but I always like my guests stuffed and 'relaxed' at all of my gatherings and what's the harm in an 83 year old French woman helping herself to yet another glass of uh "fruit juice" as she casually tells her life story to a young man from Manchester.


lemon pound cake with strawberry sauce...mmmm

I finally got to see all of my crew of friends in one gathering, and it was magnificent that they got to see Baby S and the house too. My friend Jess and her boyfriend David stayed for a few extra days and we got to have a nice visit. I was so excited for her to meet Baby S. She's a natural with babies and David seems to share her enthusiasm. They had him giggling so much that I was afraid for when they'd leave. I knew I'd never be able to keep up the entertainment level he was getting used to. He really relished in all their attention.

My friend Dee bravely showed up too. I felt the pangs of sorrow for her in her last and most recent failed attempt at IVF and I know it must have been hard for her to see us all gathered around Baby S cooing and coddling him. She is much braver than I am on that front. I think I would have had a difficult time spending a weekend in the midst of all my friends celebrating a birth. This is especially true since we had spent New Years 2004 all together doing fertility treatments. The same whole gang was there last year mocking us for not drinking and running upstairs doing our little injections every evening. I ended up pregnant with Baby S that cycle and unfortunately Dee ended up with another failed IUI. This must have been running through her mind I'm sure.

The only damper was a bit of mother-in-law badgering which I guess is to be expected. The sight of an eight month old Baby S still clinging to his mother's breast in the church's front pew was a little more than she could bear. I thought it was pretty damn cool. The irony of the occasion was not lost in that there was a painting not too far away of the Virgin Mother doing the exact same thing with the baby Jesus. But, the pleas to stop breastfeeding "for goodness sake" made me a little nutty and ready to say my peace. I held back for the sake of the occasion but it wasn't easy. When you've got something that bugs your mother in law that much, you just gotta keep on doing it for the sheer pleasure it gives you to see her blood boil.

Finally at the end of the day we all went for a swim in the lake to cool off and get out of our party clothes. All in all a good day was had by all, especially Baby S who slept like a groundhog the next day. Now he knows how rock stars feel. It's tiring being adored and having women fawn over you for an entire day!