Happy St. Patrick’s Day!!!
Ok, so yeah, it isn’t St. Patrick’s day yet…. sorry. I work in a daycare, and the day before the holiday may as well be the holiday when it falls on a weekend. The kids don’t know the difference, we have a party, its all fun and dandy.
I have had several children ask me today, what is St. Patrick’s day. I know this is going to sound so incredibly non-PC but I don’t really know. I always just figured it was that holiday where all the Irish people got drunk, I don’t know. Maybe someone can enlighten me as to what St. Patrick’s day is really all about.
Anywho, this St. Patrick’s day is proving to be a memorable one in my mind. It is no different than any other St. Patricks day really. Minus one major thing, I actually got to wear a shirt this year that said Kiss me, Im Irish.
Not a big deal you say? Well it is to me! I have never in my 24 years of life been able to wear a Kiss me Im Irish: shirt, button or flip flops, (all of which I have on today, yes even the flip flops, despite the 14 inches of snow we are supposed to get) or anything else Kiss me Im Irish for that matter. Because before this year, I didn’t even know I was Irish.
Ok, so I’m really not all THAT Irish, but don’t they say a little Irish is Irish enough??? Well I’m a little Irish, and damn proud of it too!
I was reading Rebecca’sblog and there was a post in there that particularly stood out to me. Especially right now, it was about a project she had to do for chemistry class. You know, those genealogy projects where you have to go home and look at your parents to see what color eyes they have, and the hair, and their earlobes to see which traits you got and which were recessive and which were dominate. I remember doing this project, actually I remember specifically NOT doing this project, for biology class. I was miserable about it, I could look at my family all I wanted, no one had my earlobes, no one had my eyes, no one had my hair, or my freckles, or anything else for that matter. However, this wasn’t the biggest school thing that bothered me.
The biggest was the question, the one we have all been asked a hundred times before, what nationality are you?
Ok, maybe this isn’t a big deal for those readers who live in other countries, as your nationalities may all be pretty much the same for your country. But I live in America, no one, well few people are one nationality here. And that question gets asked A LOT!
I never knew, I was told I was half Italian and half French Canadian. I had a feeling that was either A. Just what my mother was, or B. An estimation at what I was. I knew it was pretty much a logical improbability that both of my parents were full blooded anything, so I knew that I didn’t know WHAT I was. I always thought I had some Irish in me somewhere, as I have always kinda been in love with Ireland and all things Irish. However, I didn’t know for sure, I didn’t know anything for sure. And I hated hearing the dreaded question, because I would just look at people and say “I don’t know, I’m adopted” or I would just ignore the question entirely. I didn’t like to be reminded that it was just one more thing that I didn’t know about who I was.
Needless to say, it was one of the first questions I asked my Meemo, right after she asked if I had a good life. What nationality am I? Turns out, I was right, I really am just a big mutt. I am mostly Italian, they got that part right, half Italian, a quarter from both of my biological parents. The rest is mostly German, some Native American (totally cool!!) other things and Irish, so yeah, the long standing question. I have Irish in me, apparently from my great great grandparents.
So this St. Patrick’s day is quite a big deal to me. This St. Patrick’s day, I actually get to wear a shirt that say’s Kiss me, Im Irish.