Hot Stuff

There’s something about a margarita that makes an ordinary weekend feel like a vacation.  As the thick air enveloped the patio of my favorite Mexican restaurant, I savored the tang of salt that lined my delicious cocktail.  I was hanging with my three favorite guys and munching on chips and salsa…life was good.

Mad Dog raised his glass to meet mine.  He looked to our boys and asked, “What should we toast to your Mom?”

T.Puzzle jumped right in, “Make a toast to the greatest human alive….me.”

Mad Dog said, “This is supposed to be about your Mom, not you.”

T.Puzzle replied, “Well, I guess we can pretend you are the greatest human alive if that would make you feel good, Mom.”

More tequila please.

No matter, I laughed out loud.  This was even before the margarita had worked its way into my system.

The meal and conversation progressed beautifully.  I ate all the things I don’t normally allow myself to and it was divine.  I asked Mad Dog his thoughts on his spicy jalapeño drink and he said it was good.  It had been garnished with a pepper that had remained free and clear of the drink itself.  This is when Full Speed boldly declared that he would give eating the garnish a shot.

We warned him but also applauded his bravery.

Things quickly went south.

His face drained of all color.  He was losing control ever so slightly.  It started out slow and then reached max capacity.

I did the only natural thing a mother would do after imbibing on a way-too-strong drink.

I giggled.

I had the worst (best?) giggle fit of my life.  The more Full Speed looked like he might expire lent to another torrent of giggles.

At that moment I knew I really was the greatest human alive, but maybe not the greatest mom alive.

Still, this picture…worth a thousand words!

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Full Speed made a complete recovery.  Thankfully he had the strength to play Xbox later that afternoon.🙌🏻

Flights of Fancy

Recently, an unusual phenomenon occurred in our family.  I had two trips planned essentially back-to-back.  One was a solo trip meeting a friend at a yoga retreat (amazing!), and the other was an awesome work event for Mad Dog (also amazing!).  I was gone for four nights, home for two, then gone again for five nights.  I think the boys actually missed me.  I know I missed them.

That first morning when I was home for good, I was so happy to sit at the breakfast table with my guys.  I got to catch up on all I missed and hear about their time with Grandma and Grandpa (thank you!).  I, in turn, shared some of the cool things I got to see at the Arizona Biltmore and talk about the people I got to meet.  I talked about how fun it was to meet the spouses of Mad Dog’s work team.  I had so many people pull me aside to tell me how awesome Mad Dog is.  They told me how as a leader he requires a lot from them, but he is fair and always has their best interest at heart.  I was blown away by some of the ways he has positively impacted people.  As I shared this with the boys I said that not only were people pulling me aside to tell me how awesome Mad Dog is, they started telling me how awesome I am, too.

This completely perplexed T.Puzzle.

“Why?” he demanded to know.

And, just like that, I crashed back to earth.

It’s good to be home….I think.

Pushback

How is it possible to trash talk during a FAMILY DICE GAME?  As Mad Dog will tell you, he is gifted at a lot of things and trash talking is one of them.  For him, it’s a subtle balance of talking up his legendary gaming status and pushing buttons whenever one of his opponents shows any glimpse of weakness.  Not surprisingly, a recent game of Farkle pushed T.Puzzle to frustrated tears.  He cannot stand to lose, but to lose to Mad Dog is anathema.

Then there’s me.  I actually encourage family games.  I have this deluded notion that I can spark a positive connection between my family members (ha!).  Most of the time it is fun, even the trash talking part.   The crazy things Mad Dog says are classic and lead to laughter.  Laughter is where all the magic happens.  Then, there are the times when the laughter turns sour.  The game goes so far off the rails, you can’t turn back.

I also am not sure why I’m the only one in my family that truly appreciates the outdoors.  To get all three of my guys to do something outside takes monumental persistence and strength.  The pushback is incredible.  If they were left to their own devices, I’m guessing they would just be attached to said devices (i.e.-smartphones, laptops, gaming systems).

Why do I insist on family games and outings?  I like making the three of them step out of their comfort zone.  I like that they are forced to interact with each other.  This is how we learn and grow.  This is how we bond.

I have days where I lose motivation due to the enormous amount of resistance I encounter.  I asked Mad Dog why he always has to drag his feet on my ideas for family time.  His theory is that he is trying to maintain the illusion that he is still the alpha of the house.  Even though part of him knows what I’m suggesting is good for him and ultimately he will comply (mostly), he can only do so in his own complicated way.  I appreciated his honesty.  I didn’t fall in love with him because he always agrees with everything I say as soon as I say it.  I like that he challenges me.

That’s the whole point of loving someone.  You love them for exactly who they are, not who you think they should be.

I knew full well when I walked down the aisle towards Mad Dog on our wedding day, he was a trash talker of epic proportions.  I kept walking anyway because there was so much awesome in him that it made everything ok.  I knew my life would never be boring and it would be full of amazing adventures (see also Wrigley Rising).

I happened to get two bonus awesomes out the deal, too.

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So Long, Farewell! Part Two

The Super Bowl is over so football is over. This means baseball is almost here!

Woo-hoo!

I was sharing my baseball glee with the boys over dinner.

“Guess what?  Spring training games begin FEBRUARY 25TH!!!  Aren’t you both excited?”

T.Puzzle looked crestfallen at his impending loss of tv viewing control.  Full Speed was more diplomatic.  He graciously updated me on the recent team acquisitions and trades.  He turns to T.Puzzle, “Are you ready to never watch one of your shows until baseball is over?”

T.Puzzle replied (with shoulders slumped defeatedly no less), “How many games are in a season?”

I don’t know why he was being so dramatic, it’s ONLY 162 (not counting post-season, fingers crossed!).

“Guys, remember I said that I will be open to letting you watch an occasional show if it is really important to you.  If we can’t come to a compromise, you are always welcome to go upstairs and watch your show there (there’s a nifty loft space with a tv where they play video games so trust me, they are not being banished to a dark place of doom).”

T.Puzzle says, “But Full Speed will never want to watch a show, he will always want to watch baseball and I know I can’t watch certain shows without him.”  Again, his tone was absolutely pitiful.

I could almost read verbatim the words in Full Speed’s thought bubble that were forming over his head.  Yes, he loves his mom and enjoys baseball up to a certain point, BUT, some days he’s fine to watch something else.  However, he was very scared to voice this last part so as not to hurt my feelings (very sweet).  As I relayed my theory about what he was thinking, his body relaxed visibly in the knowledge he didn’t have to tell his (famous) World Series Champion mother, that he may not want to watch baseball every single day of his life.

“Seriously, Full Speed.  It’s fine.  I understand there are going to be days you won’t want to watch a game with me.  It doesn’t even matter that whoever does watch the game with me will get a bigger inheritance.  There’s no pressure.”

Full Speed’s face cracks into a giant grin.

#PayForYourOwnCollege

#GoCubs

#WSchampion

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Lost, and Most Likely Never Found

In my household there is a strange phenomenon.  I am the only person that can find things.  If Mad Dog, Full Speed and/or T.Puzzle locate something, and usually with insanely detailed directions from me, it is a miracle to be celebrated.  Seriously… a MIRACLE.

Keeping this in mind, T.Puzzle asked me to sign his school planner today.  As he handed me his notebook, the page I needed to sign floated onto my lap as soon as I turned to it.  To easily problem solve this, I asked him to bring me a paper clip.  Ha!  I said easily!  Normally to save us all from ourselves, if something needs to be found I am the one to do so.  However, my dog was so super-snugly and napping sweetly on my lap, I was highly unmotivated.  Therefore, it was up to T.Puzzle to save himself.

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T.Puzzle with the Snuggle Captain of the Universe

He walks over to the desk and in about two seconds flat announces, “I can’t find it!  There aren’t any paper clips here!”

Weird that I’d store paper clips in a desk of all things, right?

“Trust me, T.Puzzle, they are in there.  First, locate the middle drawer.  This is the one that is narrow and very long.”  He did.

“Nope! No paper clips!”

“Hang with me T.Puzzle.  Look at the upper left-hand quadrant of the open drawer (my boys are mathematically minded so it sounds odd, but this type of description is helpful, well, at least mildly so) and there should be a pack of paper clips.  It’s fine if you can’t open the pack, just bring them to me.”

He’s quiet so I take that as a good sign.  As he approaches me, I absentmindedly extend my hand to receive the clip.  He delicately places a used staple in my hand.

A USED STAPLE!

I have no words.  But, I do have paper clips.  Loads of them in fact because T.Puzzle still hasn’t used any.