Chicken Italiano laughs

Supper was nice. The three of us sat down to eat. Then, my oldest son spilled half his drink onto his plate. I was glad I cooked a bunch o’noodles because there was plenty to dish up more. Erin, my friend since second grade, and my mother remember the story I told next… About the night I made crockpot Chicken Italiano long ago, a nice supper. I can’t recall the year right now, but my oldest son cried all through supper about it being, “the worst day ever” because we expected him to taste/try the delicious food I’d made. My husband picked out all the tomato chunks out of the pasta sauce and left them on his plate. Then my youngest son accidentally spilled his ice water into his dad’s lap, at which point my husband’s plate, with uneaten tomato chunks, flipped into the sliding glass door blinds. I made a nice supper!!!! This is what happened instead that night. I remember. The boys laughed tonight in the retelling. There is more to the story, but it is a Blue-emergency. Today was/is A Good One. Best of all, it’s not over yet.

October 2, 2013

girl power

I mowed the yard this morning.
I wanted to try out the mower after my dad, nephew and oldest son tricked it out.
Blades sharpened.
Oil changed.
Something with the spark plug for an easy one pull start.
I texted my friend Kim at 12:14pm, “Mowed. Check.”
She texted back, “Good job…and even in this heat.”
I replied, “I’m not a shrinking violet. I’m a crazy daisy. ;-)”
She sent back a, “LOL.”
I’m smiling now, at the satisfaction of a job well done.
Best of all, the day is still young.

June 21, 2013

I’m letting Blue dog curl up next to me in the empty love seat spot
There is a doorknob jangle
Nearly 8:00am
First boy is out of bed
My oldest, The Early Bird (like me)
He saw Blue on the love seat and said, “Oh boy. Mom!”
Then he pet Blue and said, “Look at him. He likes this I betcha.”
Yep. He does. Spoiled rotten love him too much Blue dog.
Nearly 9:00am now
Youngest son joins us in the family room and says, “There’s another Blue on the couch.”
To the dog he says, “Blue, you’re in my spot.”
What follows made me laugh aloud…
Youngest boy climbs across arm of love seat, surprised dog gets down, then once my nine year old son is tucked tightly up against my side, Blue jumps up again in the space remaining
Quiet from earlier is replaced with a WWII show from History channel being played back via DVR
Saturday morning has truly begun
Blue is even sleeping on the floor
Breakfast for the boys is next
Good morning

May 18, 2013

he’ll be 13 in April

My oldest son has so many good life skills at age 12 3/4. My mom has said, “he’s an old soul,” since he was an infant. I continue to marvel at him, and wonder what God’s plan is for my oldest boy. He is so articulate, knowledgeable about so many topics, and good with people of all ages. He has such compassion and empathy in him, balanced by an in depth knowledge of warfare throughout history and weaponry. Lots of scripture and Bible teaching are buried in his great big heart too. I just keep loving him and encouraging him in all things. Nudging now and then. Downplaying and not gushing to keep his head from swelling. He’s a builder, a dreamer, a planner, a thinker and I hope a doer too. I miss him, his little brother, that great big Blue dog and striped cat too.

Initially written as a text reply, on January 23, 2013, while sitting at my husband’s bedside at Loyola hospital near Chicago. My friend, whose oldest son is the same age (well, 14 days older), was praising my oldest son’s conversation skills. Saying that he speaks intelligently and clearly, and comes across as very knowledgeable and thoughtful. Of course my Mother’s Heart swelled with a bit o’pride. He is mine. Forever and always my baby he’ll be, even now when he towers head and shoulders over me. Not ‘cause he’s a GIANT, though he’s built broad for football, just ‘cause his mama isn’t tall…sayin’ I’m under 5’ is close enough.

I very much enjoyed the ISU String Project concert this morning. My oldest son is the violinist third from the left in front. *yes I know he looks like a white and black spec, but it’s him* I tapped my booted toes, smiled my proud mama smile, sang along to The Monkey Song and took the ipad away from my youngest son for the three songs his big brother played.