For These, I Am Thankful

This is my lovely family:



There is my sweet husband, who loves me unconditionally. I make him mad a lot with my little quirks, but he still adores me. I take advantage of him a lot, because I know he'd do anything for me, and he doesn't say a word. He's the most amazing father and the world's greatest husband. I love him to pieces. I'm thankful God sent me such a wonderful helpmate.

There is my 9 year-old daughter, who frustrates me daily with her pre-teen angst. But she's loving and talented and smart (too smart, maybe!) and beautiful and caring and gentle and headstrong and determined and all of the things a mother wishes her daughter to be. I love her more each day.

There is my 6 year-old son, with his freckled face and gap-toothed grin. He's a lefty, which I love. It makes him more unique. This boy is so smart, so loving, so complimentary, so desperate to please, so helpful, so tidy, so imaginative, so very kind. He's my pride and joy and when I look at him sometimes it takes my breath away that he's mine.

There's my goofy 5 year-old son, with his loud screaming and his constant smiles. He's got joy in his heart, and he makes me laugh. He's a snuggler, too, and when he climbs up in my lap and rubs my arm, it just makes me feel like nothing can take away our happiness. Those moments are pure magic.

And there is my bubbly 3 year-old, whose corny faces make me laugh long and out loud, so much that my sides ache. She has personality with a capital P, and more energy than I have ever seen in a child. She goes full throttle all.day.long, and is almost instantly asleep when her head hits the pillow. Her hair smells fantastic, and she loves to be read to. She's my pixie, and I adore her.

I don't know what I ever did to be rewarded with all of these blessings, all this love, all this joy, but I work hard every day to deserve it.

Thank you, God.

Happy Turkey Day!

So, it's 2:43 pm est on Thanksgiving Day and I'm still sittin' on the Oasis (aka sofa) in my jammies. Watching last night's "Project Runway" episode and snacking off and on. The hubby is taking the kids and his mom to the movies to see "Enchanted", so in a few minutes I'll have the place to myself. Ahhhhhh.......

We started the day with sausage balls. Started getting out the ingredients and found we were completely out of Bisquick. Hubby improvised with Crisco, milk and flour. He did a pretty good job!



After the sausage balls were in the oven, I made (in the Crock Pot) a scrumptious Sausage Dip with 2 bricks of cream cheese, a pound of browned & drained sausage and a can of undrained petite diced tomatoes. DEE-LISH.



Around noonish the kids started making their Thanksgiving pizzas. They each put their own toppings on, and they had a blast. That was pretty fun. Notice they're all still in jammies, too.









Not long after lunch, hubby fell asleep on the Oasis having consumed ZERO turkey. Guess it's HGTV overload.



Later tonight we'll wrap up our holiday revelry with a delicious supper of Banana Splits.

It's been a good, good day, but I miss the turkey and dressing.

Thanksgiving

When I was a kid, Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday. I loved everything about it: the turkey, the dressing, the cranberry sauce (!), the sweet potato casserole (my aunt's is the BEST evah!), being out of school for two days, the Macy's parade... all of it.

But what I loved the most was being together with family. Yeah, we had to travel to be with that family, which meant missing about half of the aforementioned parade, but being with kin made me feel like I was part of a rich history, like I belonged to something bigger than me. I loved hearing the often-told and retold favorite family stories about when family members were younger. I loved the corny jokes my uncle Johnny told. I loved being with my cousins and aunts and uncles. I just enjoyed the big family gathering. My sister and I would groan about having to go a-travelin' over the holiday, but I secretly enjoyed the togetherness of it all.

I got married in 1996 and moved away from all of that family. My husband's brother's family goes to be with his wife's relatives on Thanksgiving. His sister and her family go another direction. Sometimes my family comes to see us, but I can't count on that every year.

I miss the big family gathering. The cooking is time consuming, and sometimes I whine about all the preparations, but I love it. I love cooking every last morsel, and I love hosting the dinner at my house. In years past we've gone out to eat at a nice buffet for the holiday, and even though that means I don't have to do anything but show up, it's still not the Thanksgiving I dream of having.

This year I thought I was going to get a big ole family gathering. My sister called to say she wanted to bring her beau, and my parents were going to come, too. I bought the turkey, the sweet potatoes, the pecans, the marshmallows, the stuffing mix, the cranberry sauce, the pumpkin pie fixins, some pie crusts to make apple and pumpkin pies, and all the other little ingredients it takes to whip up a spectacular Thanksgiving feast. I could not wait!

My sister's phone call was on a Tuesday. I went shopping the same day (I was already going anyway...). My sister called the following Friday. She and the beau weren't coming. The parents called the following Monday. They're not coming, either.

Turkey was donated. Everything else is canned or bagged and will keep for awhile.

New Thanksgiving day plan: wake up and watch Macy's parade in our jammies. Everyone makes their own pizza for lunch. Banana splits for dessert. Perhaps a movie in the afternoon.

I'll miss my big family gathering and the turkey and the dressing and the cranberry sauce, but I'll have my kids and my husband to love on during the day.

I'm thankful.

Doughnuts for Dry Pants

My 3 year-old daughter was potty trained over the summer. When she started Moms' Day Out in the fall, I was determined that she was going to wear panties to school.

My 5 year-old son has problems talking to strangers. He's not comfortable talking to new teachers, even when he has to go to the bathroom. He wet his pants the first day he stayed late at school because he didn't know the daycare teacher and was scared to tell her he needed to go potty.

What's a mom to do?

I instituted Doughnut Fridays. Works like a charm.

If both kids keep their pants dry at school, then we go to Dunkin Donuts on Fridays after I pick them up from school.



The promise of doughnuts is an amazingly powerful tool. So far, we've had to skip our trip just once due to wet pants. The frowns on the kids' faces were heart wrenching, but I had to stick to my guns (even though I was jonesin' for a doughnut myself!)



Sometimes we go inside and choose our doughnuts, and other times we're in a rush and have to go through the drive thru. No problem, 'cause the kids always get the same things.

One chocolate frosted doughnut with white milk for Quinn (Though yesterday he did choose a pumpkin doughnut, because it had fall colored sprinkles...)



One strawberry frosted doughnut with sprinkles for Lillian, and a milk for her, too.



One large unsweetened iced tea with 2 packets of Splenda for Mom. Sometimes I get an Old Fashioned cake doughnut, too (hey, I earned it!)

I love doughnut Fridays. It's a sweet end to our week, and it kicks the weekend off right. After all...

Car Talk

My daughter recently purchased a very interesting book at her school book fair. She has entertained and sickened us with questions from the book all week long. Some questions have been perplexing, and others have been downright disgusting. I prefer the perplexing ones, the ones that spur additional conversations. She asked such a question this morning as I was driving her and her brother to school.

"Would you rather burn your mouth horribly every time you eat pizza, or never be able to eat pizza again?"

My answer was quick and sure: Never be able to eat pizza again.

The story followed.

When I was in elementary school, I went to a sleepover party for my friend Wendy. She had a September birthday, so her parents built a big bonfire outside for roasting hot dogs and marshmallows.

(The kids said, "What's a bonfire?" Seriously. What kind of parent am I?)

We roasted our hot dogs in the fire. I was a little too hungry, so as soon as my frankfurter was done, I took a big bite. Natch, I burned my tongue. Badly. Hurt like crazy. I hate burning my tongue.

So I shared that story with my kiddos. I put extra emphasis on how bad my tongue felt, how I kept sticking my tongue in my cup of icy Coca Cola. How I really, really hate burned tongue sensation. More tongue talk than I usually like that early in the morning.

So, I finished the tongue story and things were quiet for a moment.

Then I heard Aiden (6) say, in his usual monotone, "Yeah, but I bet the weiner tasted good."

Crack.Me.Up.

That kid makes me laugh SO HARD. I'm still smiling thinking about it.

Something tells me that's going to become an oft-repeated phrase in our house.

"Yeah, but I bet the weiner tasted good."

Goofball.

When I'm old and in an apartment, I will remember this day

My maternal grandmother is currently in a nursing home. She has Alzheimer's disease.

When my kids go to visit my grandmother, they say they're going to Mama Dos' "apartment". To my children, needing an apartment has become synonymous with being forgetful. If I forget where I last put my keys or I call a child by the wrong name, someone will inevitably yell, "Mommy! You need an apartment!"

Thus the title of this entry. When I am old, and I have my own apartment, I know I will still remember every little thing about Saturday, November 3. It was that perfect.

Ever since she was small, my older daughter has known how to yell, "WAR EAGLE!" at the top of her lungs. Granted, when she was too young to say it properly, the phrase sounded more like "GO WIGGLES!" but we knew what she meant.

"War Eagle" is what fans of the Auburn University tigers yell in support of their team. My husband likened it to a secret password kind of thing. Eh. He doesn't get football, but he's kinda right about that. In the state of Alabama, you either yell "War Eagle!" or "Roll Tide". It's one of the things you learn from the time you're born. You're either a Tiger or a Tider.

My family is made up of Tigers. It's in our blood. We love us some Auburn football. We start 'em out young!



I haven't visited Auburn since I was in my 20s. When I found out that the homecoming game was November 3, though, I jumped on the chance to go. It was serendipity. We just happened to be planning on a trip to Birmingham that weekend. I couldn't NOT go.

Early Saturday morning my daughter, sister and I started our trek to the loveliest village on the Plains. My daughter was beside herself with excitement. She wasn't the only one; I couldn't wait to share this part of my life with her.

We arrived in Auburn around 11:30. Parked near Samford Hall, which isn't far from the stadium. Won't tell you what we paid for parking, but it was worth every penny to be so close to everything we wanted to do.

Here we are, fresh from the car and ready for adventure:



We walked down College Street and got our picture made in front of the Auburn University sign:

Then for the good stuff (lunch and shopping at the legendary Toomer's Drugstore. They're famous for their lemonade, which is DEE-LISH!)

We entered the stadium at gate 1 and walked up a short ramp. I could feel Camryn's excitement building. She was literally jumping up and down with glee. This was her first glimpse of my favorite college stadium in the universe:

The weather was perfect. Not a cloud in the sky. Gorgeous blue backdrop. Perfect seats. A gorgeous, sunny Alabama football Saturday. Heaven. Absolute heaven. But it gets better.

I heard "Ladies and gentlemen.... please direct your attention to..." and I turned to my left. I saw Auburn's mascot, War Eagle, getting ready to leave her cage to circle the field. I snapped the lens cover off of my camera and turned in on in time to get this shot. I thought I had missed, but when I got home and was looking through the photos, I was thrilled to see that I had captured her flight!

Here's my beauty, watching her first college football game unfold before her eyes:



Auburn played less than spectacularly, but they were ahead 21-3 at halftime. They went on to win 35-3, but I've seen better defense. Hmph.



Camryn started feeling sick right before the 2nd half was over, so we agreed to watch the band play and then leave. I just love marching bands.



Camryn wore herself out and fell asleep in the car on the way home.


Even though we had to leave early, the day was just awesome. I cannot remember when I've had as much fun as I did on Saturday. I can't wait until my boys are old enough to go.

War Eagle, y'all.

It's the thought that counts...

My sweet husband bought me this box of Godiva chocolates over the weekend. (One of the perks of his attending meetings at a hotel connected to a mall is that I get nice treats like that when he goes. I also got a new watch, which I desperately needed!)

I ate about 4 pieces of the chocolate the night he gave it to me, shared one with my sister, and then put the box in a safe place in the car for the 5-hour drive home from Birmingham. Even when we were stopped in traffic on I-20 for 2 extra hours due to a bad car wreck, I pushed away the urge to eat the entire box out of frustration...

When we got home, I put the box on the kitchen counter instead of hiding it. I was tired, but I should've been smarter about the placement of the chocolate. I should've been thinking that it was quite possible, NAY, probable, that my kids would get into the box.

Sure enough, the next day my children came to me with chocolate breath. I thought they had gotten into their Halloween candy. It wasn't until I found the box with its ribbon removed that I realized what had truly occurred.

When I found the box, there were two lonely pieces still in place.

I'm at a loss for words. Yes, they were punished, but I don't think it sunk in. I secretly hoped that they would get a very bad stomach ache, but alas, they did not.

Sigh. At least I still have the ribbon. I can use that in my scrapbook, but it ain't chocolate.

I guess I didn't need the extra calories anyway.