Getting Irish With It

These days I approach each March 17 with mixed feelings. Despite my Hibernian surname, I’m only one-quarter Irish. In addition to Ireland, my ancestors also hailed from Spain, England and Austria. Throw in The Spouse’s Russian/Austrian background, and the amount of Irish blood flowing through the three Picket Fence Post kids’ veins amounts to only one-eighth.

Yet we still celebrate St. Patrick’s Day with some vigor. Or at least I do and try to get the kids to care about the fact that I care about St. Patrick’s Day.

Other than the fact that all three kids will willingly eat corned beef (The Spouse makes a mean corned beef dinner), they pretty much hate all other things related to Irish fare including soda bread, the boiled dinner part and the music, from traditional to contemporary. (They rolled their eyes last year when I suggested we have a March 17 U2 marathon.)

The Girl does own an Irish themed shirt, but I can’t recall if it still fits her anymore. (I haven’t recently done that clothing purge thing where you go through all the kids’ duds to weed out what no longer fits in quite some time. I loathe that task.)

And, in past years, in fact, I’ve faced pediatric grief and general apathy when I suggested to the kiddos that they wear green, just for fun, to celebrate the holiday.

This past weekend we went to my brother’s house to have an early St. Patrick’s Day dinner with his family and the Picket Fence Post maternal grandparents, and when I offered my kids shamrock stickers which I’d bought for St. Patty’s Day, only The Girl took one (out of pity for me I think, not wanting to crush my enthusiasm for all things Irish) but the sticker quickly disappeared when we got to my brother’s house. My young nephews, however, were thrilled with the stickers, which I’m sure are plastered all over their domicile like gummy little nightmares.

So when St. Patrick’s Day 2011 dawns, I know that at least I’ll be wearin’ the green and playing Irish tunes throughout the day, but I can’t say that the kiddos will be on board . . . unless I happen to whip up some mint green milk shakes only for folks wearing something green, that might entice them . . .

UPDATE: On St. Patty's Day morning, I made a grand entrance into the kitchen as the Picket Fence Post kids were getting ready for school, only one of them in green (but I think that was by accident). "And a good St. Patrick's Day morning to ya!" I pronounced. The Girl then scurried upstairs to exchange her blue shirt for a green one. The Youngest Boy fetched his Boston Celtics jersey from the dryer. . . I'm still thinking about making them mint green milk shakes later, but will torture them with U2.

Image credit: Planet Mom Tshirts. (I actually own that shirt.)