Babycakes, Furbaby, & I made it to our destination without incident.  The weather is beautiful & computers have taken a back seat to walks, playground visits, and tricycle riding. 

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My parents have lived in their house for 21 years — I was approaching my ninth birthday when we moved in.  The house seemed giant and empty.  Two decades later it is filled to capacity!  I laugh when I hear my dad say things like, “Your mother and I should downsize.”  Say what?  Last night, there were nine people asleep in the house.  By Friday, there will be ten. 

Little E has decided that she and Babycakes are now sisters.  The grown-ups have tried to explain what makes them cousins, but she’ll have none of it.  “Aunt Sara, you SAID we could be sisters!”  Of course, I could devote an entire blog to Little E and the wacky things that come out of her mouth! 

After dinner last night, Babycakes played in between the kitchen and the sun porch while the rest of us finished our dinner.  We quickly discovered that ‘Cakes was in need of some attention because her diaper smelled like a cow pasture.  Little E climbed the stairs to retrieve a fresh diaper and wipes from my bag.  “Can I help?” she asked.  I never turn down help.  Never.  We laid ‘Cakes down on the sofa to change her diaper. 

“Ewww.  It looks like little chocolate candies.” 

The next conversation is surely my fault as I reminisced about when ‘Cakes was in my belly.  “Little E, when Babycakes was in my belly you asked me if she was wearing a bathing suit.”

“Well, was she wearing a babe-ing suit?” 

“No.  And when you were little you said, ‘Ohhhhh!  She was MAY-KED!’  You were so funny.”

“She didn’t even have on a t-shirt?” 

“No.  Babies don’t wear clothes in their mommy’s tummies.”

“Why does the hospital want to see her hoo-hoo?”

“They don’t want to see her hoo-hoo.  It’s just how babies grow in their mommy’s tummies.”

“Yeah, then ya push ‘em out the mommy’s hoo-hoo.”

“Yup.  That’s how it happens.”

“And they gotta get some tweezers and pull ‘em out.”

“Something like that.”

“Then how do they get the babies out?”

“The mommies push and push with all their might.”

“Can we go for a walk now?”

“YES!  PLEASE!”

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I am somewhere in Virginia.

I have already consumed 24 ounces of coffee, retrieved 3 sippy cups, stopped twice to pee, & hit play on the DVD player six times. 

For lunch, I will eat fast food and later regret it and feel the need to run on a treadmill.  Then I will remember that I don’t run unless I’m being chased by a wild animal.  Since my destination is Pennsylvania and not the African Savannah, I will pretend that the vanilla milkshake and chicken nuggets didn’t happen. 

You have your fingers crossed that my trip doesn’t end up like the last one with the tot. 

And I hope that the guy in West Virginia who drinks Budweiser in the middle of the day isn’t at the Sheetz “refueling” when I stop for a Diet Coke. 

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By the way, if you’re reading this and thinking that my house would make a great target for a first class robbery… you should reconsider.  The Five-Oh live next door and across the street. 

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Finally, I leave you with this:

 A few months ago I asked for some help coming up with a clever name for an online business.  The site is coming along and there are more goodies being loaded, but please go check it out: 

The Whimsy Cottage

My grey hairs

multiplied yesterday. 

It started out like a normal Wednesday with Babycakes waking up before the sun.  Three cups of coffee, a sippy cup of milk, & 15 reads of “It’s Time to Give Up Your Pacifier” later, ‘Cakes was ready for a nap.  She fell asleep quickly and awoke two hours later with a rumbly tummy.  We decided on whole wheat rotini, peas, & “cheeeeese!”.  Just before chow time, George the windshield repairman arrived to fix the MamaMobile.  With George in the driveway and the FurBaby having a conniption fit at the window, we sat down side-by-side to eat our lunch in our controlled chaos. 

My daughter is a good eater, but a pokey eater.  I finished my lunch and like usual, I began to multi-task while she slowly ate her pasta.  Without a warning of “all done”, ‘Cakes decided to get down from her chair.  But she slipped and fell on her chest with a mouth full of food.  She cried.  I was no more than six feet away and when I picked her up, I could see rotini in her mouth. 

Suddenly, her face looked contorted, her eyes closed, and she went limp. 

With one swift move and no time to panic, I flipped her over and began thumping her back to try to dislodge the food all while dialing 911.  She coughed and then cried, so I hung up.  When I turned her back over, she went limp again.  I called 911 again, but it got disconnected. I can’t tell you what emotions were running through my head because I was working on adrenaline.  It’s like there’s no room to feel, only time to react knowing that every second counts. 

This is it.  It’s me or nobody… 

Seconds felt like minutes and I realized that I might have to switch to rescue breathing.  We worry about strangers in malls, and flights of stairs, and cars in parking lots and we devote ourselves to keeping our children safe.  Then something simple like eating lunch — a damn noodle — could change our lives.  And then as if I willed her airway free, she finally let out a cry.  And she cried and cried and cried.  “Please keep crying!”  Her cries soothed my nerves and slowed my racing heart.

Then 911 called me. 

I explained the situation — “I’m so sorry!  The baby was choking and passed out, but she’s clearly okay now.”  The medic got on the phone and wanted to know should he send an ambulance.  Then I thought of George out in the driveway — he’d probably wet himself when he saw a firetruck and an ambulance come screaming towards him.  I declined their offer since ‘Cakes was going to be okay.  I was a bit worried because she wouldn’t stop crying.  In desperation I asked, “Do you want to go outside?”  She stopped crying and with her eyes wide she said…

“Slide?” 

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And later that afternoon, we went to Target where I purchased 16 boxes of hair color and stole a prescription of Valium. 

The pony will be delivered later this afternoon. 

When people have burning questions, where do they turn? 

Do they rush off to the library to find a book or consult their set of encyclopedias? 

They Google. 

*The following questions were used in a search engine & the curious folks who asked them ended up at The Football Wife.*

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How do I get my wife to let me play football?

I’m assuming that if you have to get your wife to agree to it that it’s not a paying gig.  While the hours of an NFL player are not conducive to family life, there’s not a soul on this planet who would turn down the salary.  So, does this mean that you want to play flag football with the boys and a cooler of cold ones while she’s at home with your three children folding your laundry?  If that’s the case, then I ask this… “Have you heard of diamonds?” 

What does it mean if a man says, “I love you like a sister”?

That means, honey, that he’s not going to marry you.  He probably doesn’t even want to date you… unless he’s the kind that dates his sister. 

What can I do to turn my wife on?

Have you considered putting your laundry in the hamper or helping with the dishes?  There’s nothing sexier than seeing a man help with the housework, plus it takes a few things off your wife’s “to-do list” which will give her more time for YOU. 

“Is it helthy to lick my wife’s vulvo.”

If you’d like to know if it’s healthy to lick your wife’s…

Volvo, then I’m concerned that you might have Pica.  Do you often have the urge to eat dirt or lick old chewing gum?  If you meant the “other word” that’s a body part, I hope you cleared the history on your web browser.  

How do I be a football wife?

The wives of coaches throughout the country would agree… you start by being yourself!  After that, you’ll have so much more to offer your community.  Be a gracious hostess, wear your team’s colors, bake amazing cookies, dress your kids in jerseys & cheerleading outfits, & don’t worry if you can’t remember everyone’s name.  We have 100 players & over 200 hundred of their family members hanging out on weekends in the Fall.  Try not to let the sport dominate your life — remember this order:  faith, family, friends, football. 

Who is The Football Wife?

She’s an adventurous daughter, mother, & wife who once wanted to be perfect but now lives happily in controlled chaos.  She loves being creative, going to antique stores, and taking walks with her critters.  She is often conflicted… diet pepsi or diet coke, desktop or laptop, Huggies or Luvs.  Troubling, I know.  Lately, she has been forgoing housework in order to play outside with her slide-obsessed toddler.   

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Have a question for The Football Wife? 

Leave a comment or send an email to wife (at) thefootballwife (dot) com. 

For a Football Family, it’s rare that you get an entire weekend to spend together as a family.  Since recruiting is sorta-kinda over, we spent yesterday in the city.  Babycakes was just dying to go to a Home & Garden Show and being the nice parents that we are, we totally took her.  She found the wine grotto fascinating & picked up tons of information on cabinet resurfacing. 

In all seriousness, we did get lots of ideas for turning our backyard into something special.  My favorite gardenscape on display was an Alice in Wonderland theme complete with adorable paper lanterns.  Coach enjoyed it, too. 

(from apartmenttherapy.com)

Can you imagine a cool night surrounded by the light of these whimsical paper lanterns?  The smell of gardenias in the air?  Makes you want to grab your garden spade and get busy,  huh?

After an hour of riding in her stroller, ‘Cakes decided that she would like to walk.  She visited with a collie who’s master creates million dollar landscapes and checked out a clog-free gutter system.  When I decided that it was time to get in the stroller again, she went boneless.  Lifting her arms to the sky, she made it nearly impossible to pick her up.  So I scooped her up by one armpit and a leg.  She soon gave in and we walked cheerfully until…

She screamed.

Needless to say, she is suffering from a permanent case of “Mascot Paralysis”. 

After another episode of bonelessness in which both Coach & I broke into a sweat, we decided that it was probably time to hit the road. 

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While it was terribly embarrassing that our toddler threw herself into a heap on the floor & cried hysterically, we agreed (overall) that she had been a very good girl.  Since we were already in the city, we decided to press our luck and visit the Children’s Library.  This turned out to be a genius idea!  The images of a dancing paintbrush were erased from her mind as she explored every inch of the library.  She played with the oversized blocks, arranged the alphabet letters on the magnetic board, & went fishing for trout in one of the exhibits. 

As we played in the library, I watched Coach and thought, “Wow.  We’ve really grown up.”  It’s in those moments when I feel the most proud of the family we’ve created. 

I’ve been thinking a lot

about my college years today…

 and wondering why my home looks like a fraternity house.  Before we left to meet Coach for lunch, ‘Cakes had turned over a chair, littered toilet paper throughout the house, and was funneling milk from her sippy cup whilst standing on her head.  If she keeps that up, by the time she’s 18 the only place I’ll let her go is to the University of Phoenix. 

I mostly started thinking about my college years after finding a shoebox full of cards and letters that my family sent me while I was away at school.  My brother was 8 years old when he sent me this:

As a little kid, my brother always spoke his mind.  No filter on that kid as he declared my college campus to be “a dump”.  Along with cards from my folks, he would add little notes and pictures.  My favorite is of a dancing banana.  He probably thought his drawings would cheer me up… and they did! 

My brother is now away at school and finding his letters has made me feel very guilty.  I haven’t sent him a stitch of mail.  I know, I know… shame on me. 

 I owe him BIG TIME.  And “guest what”? 

He’s the best brother a girl could ever have. 

I didn’t learn the meaning of “sacrifice” until I had a child.

Becoming a parent has given me a new understanding and appreciation for my mama.

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On this day in 1960, Elvis Presley returned home from active duty in Germany and returned to rock star status.  Later that day, his welcome home was trumped by the arrival of a baby in Lynwood, California — my mom. 

She grew up in the city in the 60’s when kids played outside, rode bikes, & came home for lunch on school days.  The oldest of her siblings, she had a lot of responsibility at a young age.  When I was born, she had years of wisdom under her belt. 

My earliest memories are of walks to the park, acorn picking at the post office, banging on pots & pans in the kitchen, and dancing to Bruce Springsteen & Sheena Easton.  She baked cookies, sewed baby dolls, & lobbied congress for a family pet. 

Thank you, Mom…

for always making me feel special, for equipping me with common sense & encouraging my creative spirit.  Thank you for sacrificing your time for my happiness – a happy childhood is a solid foundation for building a joyful life. 

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Today is about you!

So get out the pots & pans and make some noise!  Hurray for 50! 

It never looked so good. 

I could rewrite this book for Moms…

starting with the title:

Today I Feel Fat & Other Moods That Make My Day

You just know it’s going to be a low self-esteem day when you put your clothes on and your bra is TOO BIG and your pants are TOO TIGHT.  Like my neighbor said, “Sounds like a leggings kind of day!”  Amen, Sister. 

Since it’s Read Across America Day, I pulled out some new books from my teaching library for Babycakes and I to look at.  I have always loved the rhyming verses of Jamie Lee Curtis’s books.  Plus, that nutty & moody little girl really cheers me up!

I often rewrite the verses in my head to suit my own feelings — (the women in my family often speak & think in nursery rhymes and story books.)  For example, yesterday:

Of course, I never stay grumpy for long!

Yikes!  Then I put on my jeans…

Then I got an email from my new fabric distributor…

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Does anyone else go through a range of emotions during their day? 

How do you feel today? 

It’s Birthday Week at The Football House!

The FW’s Mama, Coach, AND…

Dr. Suess!

Every year, for the past twelve years, the National Education Association celebrates Read Across America Day on the day of Dr. Suess’s birth — March 2nd!  That’s tomorrow!  You still have time to head to the library and collect some great titles to read with your children! 

At the Football House, there’s a lot of reading going on these days.  Anytime that toddler of mine gets cranky, I just have to say, “Do you want to go read?”  and she’s instantly a different kid.  We grab a stack of board books and head to our comfy spot on the couch.  Here’s a list of our favorites:

• Jamberry by Bruce Degen
• Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb by Al Perkins
• Counting Cockatoos by Stella Blackstone
• Bear on a Bike by Stella Blackstone
• Bear About Town by Stella Blackstone
• The Foot Book by Dr. Suess

Believe it or not, Babycakes would rather read than watch Elmo — shocking, huh?  Sometimes, I’ll catch her sitting by herself with “Hand, Hand, Fingers, Thumb” and she’s totally reading it!  “Dum, Dum, Dum, Dum… Monkey!” – she says it with the rhythm in which I read it.  THAT is so gratifying to me as a parent!   

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The teacher in me can’t help but add that reading with your children is an important factor in student achievement and creating successful readers!  Not flash cards, not Baby Einstein movies — reading!  Children who spend more time reading, do better in school. 

What books do you read together as a family? 

What are your favorites?

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

It’s amazing how much little ones can learn just by watching.  At 17 months old, ‘Cakes can make phone calls from her Daddy’s cell phone — which isn’t such a great thing when she calls San Francisco and wakes up Coach Bryan.  She can operate the stereo and the remote control to the television.  In fact, this morning she changed the channel from Morning Joe to Sid the Science Kid.  How does she DO that? 

Babycakes insists on sitting at the table on a regular chair JUST LIKE MOMMY.  This is how I end up looking like a used napkin by the end of the meal.  When her food is gone, she conveniently just slides onto my lap and proceeds to gobble whatever is on my plate.  She has an amazing appetite for someone so small.  Last night, I got up when the phone rang and when I returned to the table she was sitting in my seat eating my dinner with my fork.   

In the mornings, we hang out together as a family catching up on the news and sipping coffee in the living room.  Babycakes will cheers everyone with her milk cup, but then spends the next ten minutes trying to figure out how to get my coffee mug.  “Hot?” she’ll ask.  Yes, dear, it’s very hot.  “Mine?”  No, dear, it’s Mommy’s.  “Monkey?”  Yes, there’s a monkey on the cup.  “Mine?”  No, it’s still not for you.  On Saturday morning, we had coffee at the table and when I wasn’t looking she dipped her bagel in my coffee.  “MMMMmmmmmm!”  Someone should make a sippy cup that looks just like a coffee cup.  Do you hear that Thermos?  Make baby coffee cups!  Then she can be JUST LIKE MOMMY. 

At least once a day, we spend about fifteen minutes sitting at the piano together.  She will not let me play any music for her, instead she is in command of the keyboard.  If I try to play, she rips my hands from the keys and yells, “Nooooo!”  When she finishes a piece, she flips through the music like a pro until she finds something suitable for her mood.  Ah, yes, that’s it — Opus 56 in E major. 

All children imitate their loved ones.  This is precisely why we must be vigilant with our words and actions because little ears & eyes are always listening and watching.  And soon enough, repeating!