Too Cool for School

 

My boys are most definitely my wild children.  Too cool for school.  Thankfully Coach doesn't have to go to any school - he can misbehave as he pleases at home just for Mama, but when Yates officially has to go when he enters kindergarten, please help me.  I'm pretty sure this teacher's kid will be one sent to the principal's office... more than once.... or twice.

He will think he's too cool for school.  He and Coach... my two mischievous boys.  But I love them - I love them very, very much just the way they are.  Besides, there always needs to be one (or two) who go against the crowd.

Dance, Girl, Dance

 

 

 

 

Your second year of dance.  You are growing up so fast.  You love dance class and to twirl in your tutu.  You know that dancing means fun, and spontaneously love to dance in our kitchen while I cook and Pandora is on - it's kind of our thing - I cook, you dance.

 

Dance, girl, dance.

 

 

Dance like nobody is watching.

A Coach's Son

He waited the whole game to see Daddy, to hug Daddy, to let Daddy know he was there watching him from afar.  He's a coach's son, born and bred.  He will always watch Daddy from the stands, and maybe one day play for him on his field.

He knows football, can say football and can throw a football.  He will sit in fascination and watch the game longer than any other 18 month old there ever was.

One thing is for sure if nothing else, he will always have a love for football - because he loves his Daddy, and his Daddy loves football.

He is a coach's son.

Tea for Two

 

Tea for two, two for tea.

Drinking afternoon tea with my little girl using my grandmother's, her great-grandmother's china is something that makes my heart smile from ear to ear.  Of course we must wear our Sunday best, and a hat - that's all part of the fun.  We are just working on perfecting the pinky finger up, and teaching Yates to be our waiter.

One and a Half

 

 

My little boy,

Today you are one and a half.  18 months old.  Time has flown by but I remember like yesterday when you were born.  You are a Mama's boy, and were right from the start but loved Daddy's attention and the way he would rock you to sleep.  You've also always loved food, and have been such a good eater- but as of now your favorites consist of, in no particular order, mac-n-cheese, corn, spaghetti, strawberries, corn chex and pop-tarts.  You love trains, or "choo-choo's" as you call them, monster trucks and diggers.  Choo-choo trains are your very favorite though- they win above all.  You love your Papa, and his golf balls- and ask about him everyday.  You call Granny Mama- because after all, she is your Mama #2.  You love the water, and swim like a fish.  You even know how to hold your breath and will jump right in without any hesitation.  You follow your Daddy around and love to watch him mow the grass- and sometimes he lets you ride his mower.  To see your face while he holds you on his tractor is priceless- you think you are such a big boy.  You are very social with other people, but need to make sure everyone knows who your Mama is by pointing and calling my name when they talk to you.  Your most prized possession is your blue blanket, and you love to twirl it in your fingers.  When I rock you to sleep, I always play with your hair- pushing it from side to side and you stay still as you can be.  You let me hold you as long as I want, and curl up in my arms so snug. You are my baby- my baby boy, and always will be.

I love you to the moon and back- and even farther... much, much farther.
Your Mama

P.S.  You are the coolest kid... ever.

Game Week

 

 

 

The first game of our season is also the biggest game of our season.  It is one of the biggest and oldest high school football rivalries in the southeast.  Kickoff is this Friday night at 7:30.  It wouldn't hurt if you said a few extra prayers for us this week.

Being a Coach's Wife



 

 

I knew my husband long before we were married.  I went to his football games because I loved football, and I loved watching the intensity that was played on the field.  I felt a part of it, as most fans do and I was mesmerized by the passion my husband coached with.  Once we started dating and then married I already knew about the sacrifices that coach's wives make.  It's part of our life, and I will always support him and the incredible job he does with his young athletes.  I've been called a single mom numerous times.  In some ways I can't disagree, my husband is gone starting in August from 6:30 am until 8:30 pm or later Monday through Friday, and on Saturday until 12:00 pm.  Once the season starts, and the stadium lights are lit, our Friday nights are spent watching him from afar in the stands and hubby's home as late as 3:00 am - then he works Sundays straight from church until possibly after dinner or later.  There are many days of the week that my husband never sees our children -or only sees them for a few minutes at a time, because he leaves in the morning before they wake up and comes home at night after they've gone to bed.  The season can last until December, and after that there are still workouts everyday.  There is never a day off.  There is never an off-season.

If you ask my children where Daddy is during the day they will say football.  Once when we went to visit Daddy at practice Chloe referred to the football field as Daddy's office.  To some people it may be a bit much - to most "normal" people it is - but it is the dedication that my husband has to his sport that I admire the most about him.  If you ask me what I'm doing on a Friday night during his football games I'll tell you I am happily watching and cheering his team from the stands - but truth be told I am a nervous wreck.  I never eat before or during a game because I will get sick to my stomach.  I bite my nails and say too many prayers, negotiating "if they make this first down I promise I won't ever... or if they make this touchdown then I will never, ever ...again" that God himself has to be annoyed.  Some plays I can't even watch, my anxiety takes over and it is too much because I know how hard my husband and his players have worked and I can't bear to see them disappointed.

Football is intense.  Being a coach's wife is intense.  It isn't for the weak-hearted.  I am proud of our little team (Mama, Chloe, and Yates) and how much passion we bring to Daddy's games every Friday night.  We are his biggest fans, both on the field and off.

Go Wonders!

Being a Boy Mom

Being a boy mom is a privilege.  Maybe an exhausting one, but so incredibly rewarding and so incredibly different from being a mother to a daughter.  It's a bit like becoming part of a special club, where only other boy moms could possibly understand what it's really like.  I always imagined having a boy, and it was almost as if I wished it to be true I wanted so badly to understand what it meant to have a "mama's boy."  So what does it really mean, to be a mother of a boy?

 

// He will adore you.  He will love you and need you more than anything.  He will need hugs and kisses and snuggles.  He will need to be close to you, he will need you to hold him.  At times this may be a bit overwhelming (for example in the grocery store while carrying bags, or while trying to cook dinner) but every so often, a few times during the day he will need your undivided attention to know that you are his and he is yours.

// You will learn to love trains, diggers, trucks and motorcycles.  You will become just as excited as he does when you both spot one.  Watching him point and giggle and make truck noises will make your heart flutter and you will want to kiss him all over while repeating the sound a truck makes back to him.

// He will eat.  He will eat a lot.  He will be the messiest eater you could ever imagine.  He will make just as big of a mess out of spaghetti as he will out of eating one single cookie.  He will drink milk like you've never seen - and make a mess out of that too.

// He will have an obsession with balls.  Footballs, soccer balls, golf balls, ping-pong balls.  Anything that he can throw, kick, roll or catch.  You will find them all over your house, under the couch, in the couch, in his bed,  in your bed, in the kitchen, in the washing machine, and everywhere else you could possibly imagine.  Accept the fact that your house will never be free or clean of these.  You will also need to practice how to throw a fast ball, or catch one so that you are ready when he wants to play ball in the backyard and Daddy is at work.  Bonus points if you can play running back. while he is the quarterback throwing you the ball.

// He will find rocks and he will dig, throw and collect them.  Sometimes in his jean pockets.  Always check his pockets.  He won't mind getting his hands dirty, or eating dirt just to see if it tastes as good as it is fun to play with.

// He won't be afraid to try new things, or climb on new things or jump from new things or ride on new things.  Not much will scare him, and that will scare you as his mother.

// You will watch him look up to his Daddy and admire everything that he does.  He will follow his Daddy around, and look for his approval while imitating him.  Your heart will want to explode when you watch this, and then it will when he stops every once in a while to make sure you are still there, to come over for a snuggle or a hug as if to say "you're still my favorite Mama, I still need you - I always will."

 

 

 

My Sweet Granny

 

 

When it rains on a Saturday I plan my afternoons around baking in the kitchen.  It's just meant to be - rain and sweet smells coming from the oven while cozy on the couch.  Having a little helper makes it such a joy, and our rainy days become something I look forward to.

My Granny was an amazing baker (and cook).  She made the best fried chicken, biscuits, and coconut cake you could ever imagine.  She cooked with real ingredients, everything from scratch and knew nothing better.  No substituting coconut oil, or greek yogurt, or applesauce but real butter, real sugar... and she lived to be almost 90.  I have inherited her cookbook (with her handwriting in it - something that makes it so priceless and my most prized possession).  She was the classiest lady you would have ever met.  She was a true southern lady, always polite but spoke what was on her mind.  She grew up from the farm, enjoying whole milk from her family's dairy farm and fruits and vegetables from her own garden.  She worked hard but enjoyed dining in the country club as often as she could.  She was my most favorite person, always has been, always will be - and I loved watching her bake (and cook) as often as I could.  When I bake with Chloe I find myself hoping she will love to be in the kitchen as much as I did as a child with my Granny - where food is love, and cooking for others is something that makes my heart grow exponentially.  Granny has been gone now for 10 years, but her presence remains and my love for her and baking is something that I hope to pass down for generations to come.

Granny was known to have a bit of a sweet tooth.  These PB cookies came from her cookbook - easy but yet delicious, and we had everything on hand, ready for an afternoon on a rainy day to bake away.

// Peanut Butter Cookies //

- 1 cup all purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
- 8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter)
- 1/2 cup light brown sugar
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1 large egg
- 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 all natural peanut butter
- crushed up reeses cups, as much or as little as you like (optional)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
In a small bowl mix together flour, baking soda and salt.  In a medium bowl, use a handheld electric mixer to cream the butter and sugars until light and fluffy, about 4 minutes.  Add the egg and beat until fully incorporated.  Add the vanilla and peanut butter and beat until full incorporated.  Add the flour mixture and beat until well mixed.  Stir in reeses cups lightly to the batter.

Using a tablespoon, drop the cookie dough onto the cookie sheets, lined with parchment paper.  Press each cookie with a lightly floured fork.  Bake about 15 minutes and let cool.

Makes about 30-35 cookies.



Granny would have enjoyed these with a side of ice cream, and coffee with lots and lots of cream.