Family Wrestling

You've already seen that we play ball in the house, but have I told you that we also hold family wrestling matches? 

Three boys and a man in that photo...

The only smart one in the bunch is my guy in brown... he keeps a safe distance because daddy shows no mercy.

The two he's holding here? 6 foot tall teenagers... no problem for daddy-o.

She's not afraid... she jumps into the mix, and lives whole-heartedly.

Finally, they get smart, and work together as a team... and he decides to give 'em a break...

A mass of humanity, rolling around my unfurnished living room...

"Dog-pile on daddy!!"

Who doesn't love a man who gets down on the floor and plays with his kids and their friends?

And he concedes ... for a moment ...

And then, she almost takes him with a rear-naked choke!

(Oh yeah, and if you look directly up from her head, you will see that there are REAL dust bunnies at my house!)

Hope you're having an exciting, playful day, too!

"Don't Play Ball in the House!"

Is this a rule at your house?

'Cause it's not at mine!

In fact, when this one was 18 months old, his dad screwed a cup hook into the woodwork of our beautiful 1905 pocket doors to hang a whiffle ball so that he could work on eye-hand coordination. (But I never told you that!)

Yup, that's him. You kinda have to hide behind stuff when J-man is up to bat. I think it was all that time he had figuring out eye-hand coordination.

Even Dancer-girl has a mean swing, don'tcha think?

And here's Austin, our soccerman, who was at one time the best catcher in the league. Still in perfect baseball form.

This must have been when I was up to bat, and yes, I have photos of it, and no, you will never see them.

Even the dogs get in on the action.

Yes, we play ball in the house. All kinds of ball, all the time, whenever we want, and no one ever gets in trouble.

And the only thing that ever got broken was a chandelier. Actually, two chandeliers. With a golf club. By the big guy. 

(And I never told you that, either.)

What rules are regularly broken at your house?

Today Is Her Birthday!

I can't even believe it.

Today's her birthday.

Our little monkey has reached double digits!

That's right!!

10!

The water-lovin', 

dog-lovin',

dancer girl

is growing up

before our very eyes.

I hope you are always so creative

and happy

and fun-loving.

Happy Birthday, baby-girl.

About This Man

                                                                                                                          

He's fiercely protective.

And smart.

He's extremely funny, and makes me laugh even when I'm steaming mad.

He's a great father.

He's dependable and responsible.

He's compassionate.

He's sees in black and white, even though things are never that clear to me.

He believes in right.

He loves me.

He's not a couch potato, even though sometimes I really wish he was a couch potato.

He's strong. And fit.

And he's oh-so-much fun.

He taught my children to fold the laundry for their mother.

And how to be team players.

He plays ball with them

and laughs with them

and heely's with them

(with his very own heelys).

He shoots airsoft guns with the hims

and dances with her.

He's taught them the difference between working

and working hard

playing and playing fair

being thoughtless and being thoughtful.

He cares about the world.

He roots for the underdog,

but studies the favored.

He's curious.

And hard working.

He's a thinker.

And a well-measured risk-taker.

He's a leader 

and a motivator.

He comforts us

and takes care of us

and loves us.

He supports me and believes in me.

He'd move mountains for me.

And told me so.

(And he's mine.)

(photo by Gregg Perry)

Pancakes...This One's For You, Edie!

I have these very fond memories from when I was growing up.... My southern-raised mom would make these great, huge breakfasts on the weekend.  It could have been pancakes, french toast, or eggs (to order, of course) and toast. And there was either sausage or bacon, but there was definitely meat. The piece de la resistance - a big pot of grits... oozing with like a stick of butter and sprinkled with a container of salt. I was the only gal in the north who ate grits on a regular basis. And I loved them. (As an adult, I realize it really wasn't the grits... the grits were just a conduit for the butter and salt!)

So, I wanted this for my children, a memory that reinforces how close our family is. I make big, huge breakfasts every weekend. But not like my mom's... we forgo the meat, usually, or substitute turkey sausage/bacon, which really is nothing at all like that really-bad-for-you, greasy, spicy, salty, yummy sausage and bacon. And the grits? Only when we eat out. My pancakes, though, I've been told they're to die for.  My recipe had a basis in Betty Crocker, but has long since evolved, and I want to share it with you. This one's for you, Edie!

 

First, I start with my very own iced latte... can't do anything Saturday or Sunday morning without first consuming at least one iced latte.  Then, mix the wet ingredients...

  1 egg

  1 C milk

1 T oil (less to be healthy, but some to brown the cakes)

  and (here's one secret) 1+ tsp of home-made vanilla

Add the dry ingredient right into the wet... it's not rocket science, and I'm all for minimizing dirty dishes....

   3+ T sugar  (sweet, like the Scandinavian-made -another secret)

   1 T baking powder

   1/2 tsp salt, to control the baking powder!

   1 C flour

Now, in my family, some like them thin and some like them thick, so I either divide the batter & thin one half with milk, or do the thinner ones last, diluting the batter right in the same bowl(fewer dishes, remember?)

I use a cast-iron griddle that sits on top of my burners. My mother-in-law gave this to me years ago... I wonder if she realizes how she's helped in creating cherished family memories for my kids? I have to double stack my burner grates because my fire burns too hot!  (hmmmm...)

(Today, it was about here that my husband walked in on me taking pictures of pancakes, and with the most quizzical look on his face, asked, "WHAT are you doing?" to which I replied, "Getting ready to blog. Ya know, Edie, she....", at which point he interrupted and asked, "Does Edie KNOW she's your hero?" Oh, I'm sure she knows she's many peoples' hero!)

The kids like them with milk chocolate chips baked right in.

Sometimes I get help:

(Ron teaching Lexi how to flip.)

Sometimes we top them with bananas, pecans, and whip topping, and heaven forbid: chocolate syrup! MMmmmmmm....

Serve with REAL maple syrup, preferably imported from my sister's house in Maine; 100% real fruit juice (stawberry banana is the going favorite); fresh sliced pineapple, a memory-keeper from our trip to Maui 4 years ago; and for me, of course, a second or third iced latte.

J-Man

Ya know, he's just 14. Actually, he just turned 14. He's amazing. He's so secure in his "manliness" (this is very important when you are 14!) that he's not afraid to kiss his mom in front of the baseball team. Or yell "I love you, Mom!" from across the parking lot. He plays the piano, and he plays baseball. He listens to Beethoven, and he listens to George Thorogood. He's kind and thoughtful and smart and hard-working. In fact, he'd work his butt off for you if you asked it of him, or if he thought it would help him be better.  He's our J-man.

                                                             

                                                                                                                     

Dreams

I lie upon a tree

And dream about the day

I think about nature

In a beautiful way

I lie within the field

And dream about the night

I think about the stars

Alone with fright

I lie within my bed

And dream about my house

I think about my family

The ones who are mine

                                    jordan, 14