"Touchdown!"

Growing up in my family meant you liked football.  Or at least tolerated it.  We didn't have a TV so we listened to all the Philadelphia Eagles' games on the radio.  We all had our favorite teams - I liked the Eagles but told everyone my favorite team was the Denver Broncos.  I made that decision based purely on the fact that their mascot was a horse.  And I liked horses.  Ah, the reasoning of teenage girls! 

Every week, my mom would draw up a chart of the NFL teams that were playing each other that week.  We then predicted the winners of each game.  The person with the most correct wins had bragging rights that week.  See - no gambling! There was really nothing to be gained.  Except for arguments and bickering, that is.

Anyway, as we listened to those games on the radio, we never tired of hearing Merrill Reese's "It's Goooooooood!" as the Eagles scored another field goal.  "Touchdown!" was even better, naturally. 

It stands to reason then that I would carry on some of these football traditions in my own family.  Unfortunately, we live entirely too far from Philly to hear "It's Gooooooood!" on our radio.  My kids are too young to vote on game results.  As for favorite teams, I am not influencing their decisions at all.  I just point out that we don't really live in "football territory" anyway (the closest team is the Seattle Seahawks) so picking Mommy's team just seems like a natural thing to do.  Oh, and I may just have unpacked a tiny Eagles cheerleader outfit that the Drama Queen wore at a year old. . .

One football tradition that we have faithfully carried out with all four children is teaching them to raise their arms when you say "Touchdown!" before their first football season starts.  The reasons for doing so are numerous.

1.  It's incredibly cute.  So cute, in fact, that you will keep saying "Touchdown!" over and over again just to see them do it until they give you the mom-please-stop-my-arms-hurt look.

2.  It immediately identifies you as good parents.  When you are out and about and the word touchdown causes your little one to immediately raise their arms, other fans think, "Wow, those parents are doing it right.  They're teaching the most important things first."

3.  It is invaluable to undressing your child quickly.  To this day, when I am helping the Spud or any of the other kids take off their shirt to get ready for bed, I say "Touchdown!" and their arms shoot up, greatly expediting the process.

4.  Once you have trained them to do "Touchdown!", there really is no limit to what else you can train them to do.  Giving high fives, blowing kisses, breakdancing - all of these are a piece of cake for your toddler once they have mastered the "Touchdown!"

It is with great pride we carry on the tradition with Little Sprout.  Please click on the following video and observe the cuteness:



"It's Gooooooood!"

Potpourri of the Week #2

As usual my brain has been jumping all over the place this week and most likely driving my husband crazy. Potpourri of the Week is an opportunity for me to share with you where my brain has been - websites, blogs, books, outerspace, etc.  So let's get started....

1.  First up, I downloaded yet another free book to my Kindle with plans to read it in, oh say the next five years.  I realized that I have over 300 books now on there!  While skimming through the titles, I found Raising Kids With Love and Limits by Julie Barnhill.  A certain little someone has been making me question every "method" and "tactic" I have in my parenting arsenal lately; so I dug into this book.  So far, it has been - funny, heartwarming, useful, blunt, and convicting.  The honesty is refreshing.  I love this quote:  "So how to explain feeling (dare I admit, even looking) like a complete moron while standing in the middle of Target and trying to coerce a kid smaller than the circumference of our right thigh to listen and obey when we say no?"  For mommas of young ones who are constantly overthinking their parenting skills, I highly recommend this book.  And I've not even finished it yet!

2.  Next, along the same lines as it seems my brain (and heart!) have been consumed with mommyhood lately, I happened across this thought-provoking post by Rachel at Finding Joy.  "Where Did the Delight Go?" is a challenge to mothers everywhere to get back to enjoying their children instead of just viewing them as more work.  I don't think any of us consciously would label our children as work, but it is incredibly easy to get caught up in all the doing that children cause - laundry, messes, discipline, teaching, feeding, etc.  It becomes humdrum and ordinary and sometimes can make us resentful of the ones we were once so excited to mother and nuture.  But, Rachel says it a whole lot better than I do; so go check out her post.  I promise it's worth the read. 

3.  It has been over a month since our family embarked on the Feingold Elimination Diet.  Since then, I have been researching and studying food dyes, artificial flavors, and the preservatives that mess with my autistic child's brain and cause him to have such terrible meltdowns and space-outs.  The more information I uncover, the more I am appalled and ashamed that I allowed all of my children to ingest these terrible things for so long.  I am thankful in a way that my son's issues forced us to consider this radical change to our diet, because quite honestly I don't think I would have done the research otherwise.  Even if the elimination of petroleum food dyes and artificial flavors had not made a significant difference in the Beast's behavior, we cannot turn back now.  I cannot give these poisons to my kids, knowing what I know now.  Blogger Rebecca at Die, Food Dye devotes her energy to informing the public about these dangerous chemicals in hopes of making a change in America.  Read her recent post on who's doing it right and who's not in the food and medical industry.  I guarantee it will stop and make you think. 

4.  As always, I like to end on a light-hearted, not-so-much-deep-thinking note.  This post had me laughing hysterically yesterday.  The author's story and pictures resonated with me, as I have experienced something very similar with my boys.  I will warn you that there are potty words and anatomy words involved;  so if that kind of thing makes you uncomfortable or nervous, skip this one.  Otherwise, read on, and may I recommend not reading it at work or lunch or anyplace you may  be liable to distract everyone with your loud giggling. 

Carry on, everyone!  Have a great weekend!

Spud-proof? Impossible!

In case you should ever invite our family over for dinner or even some coffee/sippy cup time, I think you ought to be prepared. The following is a checklist for Spud-proofing your home:

1. First, please do not have any objects you hold dear within reach of the Spud. They should be placed at least 2 to 3 feet higher than you think, as he apparently has amazing stretching skills, practically akin to Elastigirl. He will grab any unsuspecting object and hurl it with great force to the ground. If it does not break the first time, rest assured - he will pick it up and throw it again, harder.

2. Lock all storage and kitchen drawers. If you fail to do this, he will open the drawer and rapidly empty it of its contents. Next he will climb into the drawer and repeatedly try to shut it while still inside. Don't worry - I usually bring an extra box of bandaids for this very reason.

3. Remove anything that can be climbed, as the Spud will try to climb everything. To date, he has successfully climbed chairs, bar stools, lamps, couches, coffee tables, end tables, bookcases, ironing boards, baby gates, and toilets. Am I suggesting you remove all of your furniture? Well, perhaps that is a bit much, but moving it all to a locked room would be greatly appreciated.

4. The Spud has a certain affinity for the following objects: scissors, knives, mugs of hot coffee, small ingestible items, forks, and anything electronic. Please triple-check that all of these items are safely out of reach before we come.

And, if you withdraw your dinner invitation, I completely understand. Obviously it is quite impossible to Spud-proof a home.

Which makes every day an absolute adventure. . .