Weed to me Mommy

This was the the nightly bedtime command of my first born, three year old, golden haired BamBam child.

Lumbering towards me with at least a 10 book stack balanced in his arms.

Nightly, he would drop the pile by my great grandmother's rocking chair in his room.

Clamour up onto my lap

Stick his thumb firmly in his mouth

Pull it out ever so briefly

Point to the pile and say

"Weed to me Mommy"

Then the thumb would return to its secure domain and his head would loll back into the crook of my shoulder and I would "weed"

For at least a half an hour, sometimes an hour.
Because sometimes it was necessary to read through the whole stack twice.

Every night without fail.

I can't remember the last story I read to him.
I feel like I should remember
When this sacred time ended.
But I can't.

Fast forward, present day.

He comes to me while I am on the computer doing mindless crap on Facebook and says

"Mom, I want to read to you. It's about Hercules and his twelve tasks. Can you come and lay down on my bed and listen?"

And I do.

Today?
I was not on parental cruise control, which definitely happens after dinner.

I stopped, dropped and listened.

Hearing his rushing and alternately halting voice, recount the tales of the stories I first heard in MY mythology class.

And like my three year old son, all those years ago, I started to drift on the words.

Lulled by the familiarity of the story,
Relaxed in the crook of my son's knee.

I listened
And remembered
Was thankful
For the gift that I was just given.

Chill Time

Waiting in line for my kids at carpool.
It only happens after football and before baseball seasons start.
Not a very long period of time.
And I love it.
Just chilling listening to music, or reading a book or talking to my mom on the phone.
Or trying to find a shape in the clouds.
I think the beginnings of a sea turle were forming in this photo.
20 minutes of me time where I don't have any agenda.
Just be.

Iron Girl 2012

I was working on putting my training schedule together on Thursday for Iron Girl this year and while I was doing that, the email notice of the earlier registration dropped in my inbox!

SO excited to do this for the second time and I am incredibly motivated to shave some time off my transitions and run portion from last year. Last year I only started training 6 weeks before the race but still managed to finish with 30 minutes to spare and a medal in hand!



Now I have put together a 28 week program that has a good cycle of base, recovery and build.

Lake Lanier is close enough that I don't HAVE to get a hotel room, but I think it might be a good option.

I had to get up ridiculously early to make the drive up there with my girlfriend last year and we arrived way to close to start time for my comfort level.
Need to start researching maybe renting a house. I think I'd sleep better. Oh who am I kidding, I could barely sleep the night before last year.
Getting a bunch of gals together to split the cost, already have 4 on board for the race, would be ideal.

Also need to simplify and decide on some basic menus for sticking more closely to my clean eating routine.

Been more than a little slack about that for the past few months.

I can't wait.
Did I say that already? LOL
It really was a life changing experience last year.
Here's to healthy, hard and happy training!

There are no pictures for a reason

The dominoes keep falling
Saddam, Osama Bin Laden.
Egypt, Syria, and now Libya

The images on the news were and are graphic and sobering.

While I hope and pray for a democratic process for the people of these countries, I am left wondering if it is possible.
And yes
Despite our country's own problems, I still think it is better than the alternatives.

A country and its people are defined in part by how justice is served.

Revenge was exacted on Gadhafi today, brutally and swiftly, a mirror of his method of government.
A broad crude stroke.

Justice?
A more complex process.

Praying for strength and wisdom for those who lead, those who follow, those who serve and those who question.

15 years ago

on a lovely Friday in Autumn (just like today) October 11, 1996, a bouncing 9lb 23 inch blond haired blue eyed boy arrived in our lives and the grand adventure known as parenthood began for us.

Ian was confirmed in our church this past Spring and his youth director asked me to write a couple of paragraphs about him that she could pull from and share with the congregation.

Here's what I wrote.

Ian burst into this world with a smile on his face and his arms and eyes open wide and I'd say that pretty much sums him up still today.

When he was little I would always sing "You are my Sunshine" to him as I rocked him to sleep. And everywhere I took him, his ear to ear grin lit up his face and the world of everyone around him.

He still spreads that light today with his sweet, sometimes silly, always devoid of self-consciousness good humor.

Arms wide open.

When the Christmas day tsunami hit in 2004 and he overheard the news coverage, he went into his room and grabbed his Christmas money and gave it to me to give to the kids "who didn't have a home or parents anymore".
He has always been the first one to notice when someone is sad or discouraged.
Even today, he can read emotions of those around him like an open book.

An eagle eye.

We joke about his 20/10 vision.
He can see things, literally and figuratively, that escape most people's notice on first glance.
"Hey mom...look at that hawk in the sky"
2 minutes later I finally see the hawk in the sky!
"Hey mom...look at the old soldier on the corner. Where do you think he served? He looks hungry"
Finally, I see the thin homeless man carrying an army duffle bag.

Everyday.
Ian brings a smile to my face, comforts me in ways big and small and never let's me take my eye off the small details that really are the big details, at the end of the day.

He was, is and will always be
My sunshine.

Confessions of a Foodie

I tell folks I can't remember a time when I didn't cook, because I really can't.



This is a very faded photo taken with my Dad's old Polaroid in our little cottage in Carbondale IL.
(Go Saluki's!!!)

I was 4.
(Yes at 4 I was already above my mother's waist. Thanks for that shot to the gene pool Dad!!)

My mom, the Home Ec/English double major with a Masters in Early Childhood development, gave me a sure foundation on lessons in cooking, life and love.

And then set me up to go forth and learn some more. And more. And even more.

Sadly though I had brain spasms when it came to sewing. I tried to make my Easter dress the first year I was married. Why? Because I could not find a dress to match my hat. Which resulted in a pique of frustration and throwing a bobbin of thread across the room and a call to my mother who calmly asked me if "my needle was flat back" Those who sew, know what she's talking about. Those who don't? I'll share that story and picture next spring.

But I digress.






THIS is the first cookbook she ever gave me. I almost want to take it off my cookbook library case and store it in a safety deposit box.

It is that precious to me.

Along with my
Grandmother's handwritten recipes for her Fudge, Pralines and Divinity that she would make every Christmas. Individually wrapped. Stored in old tins on her "cold porch"



But I just can't bear for them to be out of sight.
I need to be able to go back and look at the handwritten cursive notes
and touch the cards

Food is more than sustenance for me.
It holds an essence of memories of loved ones long gone and a celebration of the ones I can still hold.

Homecoming 2011

Beautiful afternoon for Homecoming yesterday.
Too bad they lost!
But this year, as a Ninth grader, Ian can attend the Homecoming Dance tonight.
Coat and tie required!
Gulp!
He is still too shy to ask a girl out so he and a big group of his friends, boys and girls, are meeting there and are going to hang out together.
It's all baby steps.
he wouldn't even go to dances last year.
I'll try to get a picture of him before he leaves.
(Wish me luck with THAT!)
Now I just have to manage to stay awake until 11pm to pick him up!

Lovin from the Slow Cooker Oven and assorted memories

Here it tis

My friend and support system for the past 20 years
Tickin and still kickin

The Rival Crock pot!



Lord have mercy this baby has seen better days
Missing one handle on the side
Missing the knob to set the temp
Faded container
Clouded lid
The temps are still on the side of the pot, I just have to click the naked knob to play The Position is Right game.

"I'll take LOW for 8 hours Bob!"


Sure
I have a newer and nicer oval crock pot.
It's pretty and shiny and white.
And has a LOW, HIGH and KEEP WARM settings.
OOOOH....AHHHHHH!
That bad boy can handle big ole cuts of meat like nobody's business
Brisket with Molasses Bourbon glaze? Come to Momma!

But sometimes a gal just needs a small round unassuming little workhorse.
Like when I'm making Crock pot Layered Enchilada Casserole, which is up on the menu chalkboard tonight.

Tortillas?
Round
My well loved Rival?
Round
Round...it's a beautiful thing!

I really embraced the love of the slow cooker after I had the boys and was working full time, while telecommunting.
Referring to that period of my life as the "Pat the tummy/Rub the belly at the same time"
Honestly, I didn't know if I was coming or going most of the time.
But I knew if I could get something into that pot in the morning or at lunch, the Five O'Clock Follies, wouldn't be quite so manic.

So, I am quite protective of my Rival
I like to think of her as "well seasoned"

Assorted random memory alert

My oldest boy was just a twinkle in our eyes when I snagged this lifesaver at Tarjay.

He got in the car today at carpool and told me he hadn't done well on a math test.
Also hadn't done well on a math quiz last week.

After the quiz he basically had a nervous breakdown
After the test he said to me today

"You know what Mom? I'm not going to get down on myself or beat myself up. I'm going to figure out what I did wrong and move on and I'm going to do better on the quiz next week."

I gave him a hug and told him how proud I was of him for reacting so maturely.

Then told him his favorite Crockpot Layered Enchilada Casserole was dinner tonight.
I got an enthusiastic "YES" and a fist pump (BOOYAH!)

That little ole Rival crock pot?

Not going anywhere.

Cubicle Sweet Cubicle

I started off in a much larger office at my place of employment.
24 years and counting now
I know, I know
Tis a long time
But I work with good peeps
And then came the work from home option when I had my babies.
When I opted to telecommute and go to a shorter work week, I was "downsized"
Sniff
Not!
I happily traded in my bigger office for more time with my family.
And Thursday is my Friday!
SCORE!

The Lake House

You know it's funny how things evolve when it comes to vacations.
Your kids all of sudden wake up one day and announce that they want their friends to tag along so they won't "Be boooooooored! sigh"

After the first vacation you realize.

1) "Dang, we're really cool and smart parents for coming up with this grand idea" (cough)

2) They really don't whine about being bored (Huzzah!)

3) And the inevitable sibling rivalry takes a vacation as well (Bonus!)

Then the parents decide that they need to invite their friends along

So they have someone to play with

And aren't bored. (grin)

Good thing our friends are the parents of their friends.
It just kind of works that way!

Our latest installment of the travelling circus was to Lake Oconee for Labor Day week-end.




And just for the record
My DH is quite the saint
He's a keeper




Why?
Well I don't have time to run through the laundry list right now
But, we'll focus on item #54
He is the ONLY adult male on these adventures
And he's smiling BECAUSE....................




He keeps all the moms happy by mixing a fine Bloody Mary!


Our next trip is to Boca for Spring Break.
I have a sneaking suspicion that Margarita Mike will be working his magic there as well!

My Project 52

Hello Blog

Long time, no love.
I'm coming back to you to try to capture photos and thoughts for the next 52 weeks.
Bind them up in a Blurb book and pop the cork on some bubbly.
Not making any promises after 52 weeks.
Cause I'm fickle like that (snort)
Just trying to grasp how quickly time is slipping through my fingers.
10 years ago my boys were in pre-school and we were just weeks away from 9/11.
Now they are starting middle school and high school.


Yes.
The picture is a hot mess.
What do you expect from a Blackberry at o'dark-thirty?

Why not start January 1, 2012?
Because why not now?

Ian can get his learner's permit in a month.
Connor is a teenager. And has a Facebook page.
Michael and I are approaching our 25th anniversary in June.
I'm working on preparing for my 2nd Iron Girl Sprint Triathalon next summer.
The list goes on and on.

Now is always the best time to start.
And so it begins.....................