I grew up Catholic and my mom’s best friend and her family is Jewish.

Our families grew up together. They celebrated the Christian holidays with us and we celebrated the Jewish holidays with them. It was wonderful.

My brothers and I called ourselves Cath-o-lic-ish.  (We had absolutely no undertones of disrespect for either religion, we just felt special that we had both religions in ours lives. We wanted a special name for just us.)

If you want a visual, imagine Yiddish words coming out of the mouths of 5 little Catholic kids. I am saddened that I have lost much of that culture in my life today. That’s another post.

If you are not Jewish or Cath-o-lic-ish you may be thinking “What’s this got to do with decorating Hazel’s bedroom?”

A lot! Our families and friends never bought a gosh darn thing or had baby showers until the baby was born and safely home. I apologize to my Jewish and Cath-o-lic-ish friends if there is a spiritual or biblical meaning, but I learned it was just plain bad luck. Kind of like jinxing, throwing a whammy or a hex on the pregnancy or birth. I am pretty sure there is a real good Yiddish word for it. Wendi help me out here. My Yiddish vocabulary has vanished right along with my size 10 hips.

Well, I am no longer a practicing Cath-o-lic-ish, but I still practice the guilt. I joined our Yahoo LID Secret Pal swap, with a lot of Cath-o-lic-ish guilt thrown in. I have since gotten over that guilt, sort of.

Without Jules kind words, extravagant gifts and beautifully thought out wrappings I would have gone insane. You have no idea how much glee and excitement there is in my house the days, weeks after that package arrives. It’s a wonderful reminder that this adoption is real.

Also, I have bought a few things for my dear little love bug; mostly irresistible bargains at &ymboree Factory Outlet and Targ´et. The first purchase I made for her was her first baby doll. That was very important to me to be the one to give her that. That’s a whole another post.  

OK back to plucking daisies …

Now, are you getting the picture? Yup Cath-o-lic-ish guilt. (I love the way spell check wants to change that word and I won’t let it. Spell Check 0. Beth 6.) I really want to decorate her room. I am ready. For the last 2 years I couldn’t get my brain around the idea. I am ready and the guilt won’t go away. UGH!  

It’s not because I don’t believe this adoption will happen. I just don’t want to anger the wives tale’s gods. It would be like breaking a mirror than kicking the black cat walking in front of me as I am walking under a ladder.

I thought if I wrote this down and got it out of my head and gave it to the universe the answer would reveal itself.

All for not, in revealing my inner turmoil in this post I recalled a childhood memory that may have gone missing had I not started plucking daises.

I am going to go find some real wood to knock on and then throw some salt over my shoulder; just because I’m still thinking about decorating her room.