Ahhhhhhh...football season.  There's just something about this time of year.  My husband and the boys get excited for the thrill of the game and the never-ending amounts of chili, buffalo wings and nachos, while I eagerly await the cool autumn weather, bringing with it, fuzzy sweaters and the warmth of the fireplace. 
      Being from Ohio, it's different now, because we live in North Carolina.  Back home, everywhere you turned, you could find Ohio State Buckeye decor.  Down here though, there are the Tar Heels, Wolf Pack, Blue Devils and Pirates.  I have tried like mad to figure out what an Ohio girl has to do to get a decent Buckeye.  What's a Buckeye you might ask?  Our state tree is the Buckeye Tree.  It's a big and beautiful tree actually, which has these pods that drop to the ground.  
       As a kid, the thing to do was to collect as many pods as you could and run home with them.  There, you could open them up and see how many buckeyes each pod had inside.  The buckeyes are a dark brown nut with a light brown center.  We were always told growing up that their name was derived from the Native Americans who once walked the land.  The nut looks like the eye of a buck/deer, hence the name..."Buckeye".  The tricky part about a buckeye, is that they're poisonous.  You can't eat them.  What we did instead, was make candy buckeyes to look like the original, but ooooooh how they tasted. 
     One of my best friends from home, Tricia, always had the BEST recipe for Buckeyes out of any version I've ever eaten.  The candy basically tastes like a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, but sometimes, people can make them too sweet, sometimes too peanut buttery...Tricia's are the perfect concoction.      
     She will tell you that it's not "her" recipe, but regardless, I call her every year to get it.  I recently asked her if she wouldn't mind that I posted it and here it is: (Thanks Tricia!)  :)
1 pound of peanut butter
1 pound of butter
2 pounds of powdered sugar
1-2 bags of semi-sweet chocolate chips
Mix the peanut butter, butter and powdered sugar together.  (Some people put just a little bit of vanilla in too.)  Form small balls and chill.  Melt the chocolate and dip the peanut butter balls into the chocolate, making sure not to cover the top.  Let them rest/harden on parchment paper and then enjoy!
    As Saturday brings the first football game for Ohio State this year, we'll be ready and waiting with our family, friends and food.  Even though we'll be watching the game from the south, we'll be cheering them on with a plate of one of God's greatest gifts...The Buckeyes.

     Each night we try to have a routine to get the kids in bed.  Baths, teeth brushed, pajamas, prayers and maybe a book or two.  Our two older boys always crawl into their bed and ask me to sing to them.  Half of me loves this, while the other half knows that they're really just trying to stall from having to go to sleep.
     Regardless, I have a few different songs that are pretty much the staples for each night.  Some are the same that my Mom and Grandparents sang to me when I was little; others, are ones that I've picked up along the way.  No matter what the song though, our older two boys are the only ones who ever want to hear them.  
     Our younger two just don't seem to get into it.  I can try to sing to them each night but they always say, "No, Mommy.  That's okay.  We don't need to sing."  humph.  I guess it kind of bothers me that they don't want to share the time together.  There's a bond that's so wonderful during that time of night when the rest of the world goes away and you have those moments.  I've never been able to sing with either one of them...until tonight.  
       Little Preston called me into his room and said, "Mommy, will you sing a song for me?"  I stood there in disbelief.  Not wanting to risk him changing his mind, I acted indifferent as I sat down beside him.  "Sure, Buddy.  What would you like me to sing?"  My heart swelled as I waited for his response.  "Star Wars."  (what?!)  "Star Wars?  Is that a song Little Man?  How does it go?"  "You know Mommy!  Star Wars!"  he began to hum the theme song to the movie.  Not knowing what else to do, I started to hum along with him.  It wasn't exactly the typical bedtime lullaby, but whatever works I guess.  
     I kissed him on the forehead and told him how much I loved singing with him.  I told him that if he wanted to sing again tomorrow night, we could.  "Maybe you can think of another song and we'll do that tomorrow instead, okay Buddy?!"  "Okay Mommy.  I already know what I want you to sing."  "Oh good!  What song will we do tomorrow?"  "Spider-Man."   "Spider-Man?!  That will be great Preston.  Let's sing that together.  Good night Baby.  I love you."  "Night, Mommy.  Love you too."
     Anybody know the words to Spider-Man?! 

    We don't go out to eat a whole lot, but when we do...well where do I begin?  Picture trying to take four cats to a restaurant and give them each a spoon and watch what happens.  The boys kick each other under the table, which leads to one (or three) of them crawling under us to do a sneak attack on the other.  Our daughter drops her spoon on the floor, or her crayon, or her milk...you can pretty much guarantee that anything that's within a five mile radius of our table will be falling off at the hands of our three year old. 
      No matter what the case at a restaurant is however, it's usually contained to the little circus area known as "our table"...until Sunday.
      My parents were visiting over the weekend and we all went to church on Sunday morning.  After the service, Mom and Dad thought it would be a nice treat to go out to eat.  Thinking that the odds were in our favor with four adults to four kids, we agreed.  
     The meal actually went well.  The restaurant's service was fast and impressive and the food was excellent.  It was so nice to sit and not have to cook or clean.  My husband and I kept mouthing to each other, "The kids are being Great!"  We had them staggered throughout the four of us so that they couldn't touch, pinch or breathe on each other throughout the meal.  Genius. 
     I swear I even felt the stares from the tables around us and heard whispers of, "Look at those kids...so well behaved.  How sweet?"  There was a new feeling of restaurant pride that came over me.  One that was short lived.
     About thirty minutes into the meal, our three year old daughter announced that she had to go potty.  Why is it that anytime we're in public the kids think it's the "coolest thing" to use the bathroom?  I don't know, but there we were.  My husband and I almost broke out into a game of "rock, paper, scissors" to decide who had to take her, but I ultimately got the nod. 
       I've learned that the difference between boys and girls is huge when venturing into a public restroom.  With boys, they don't have to touch anything.  Literally.  They can just get in and get out with a hand wash and they're good to go.  It's not so easy with girls.  I've tried everything from the "hanging over the toilet" approach with her, to the "put toilet paper all over the seat" trick.  No matter what I do, it only seems to make it worse.  Her little hands touch every square inch of the toilet as she tries to sit.  I don't want to be a germ freak or anything, but, ugh.  
     This time around, I decided to go with the "hanging over the toilet" until her big eyes looked up at me as she said, "Mommy, I have to go poopy."  (You have GOT to be kidding me.)  "Oh, Baby Girl, we're almost done with lunch, so how about we go home and go there, okay?!"  "No, Mommy.  I have to go poopy now." 
       Here we go.  I stood her up, covered the seat with toilet paper so that it looked like a marshmallow, then sat her back down.  She was right.  She really had to go.  When she was done, we washed our hands and she smiled saying, "Let's tell Grammie that I went poopy!  I'm a big girl and I went poopy!"  (Can you see where this is going?)  As soon as we opened the door from the bathroom, she hit the ground running.  "I WENT POOPY!  GRAMMIE!  I WENT BIG POOPY!!!  I'M A BIG GIRL AND I WENT POOPY!!!"  
      Forks were put down on plates, you could see the collective appetites of an entire restaurant simply fade away.  It's a funny thing about eating, you usually don't want to think about bodily functions, even from a three year old.  A few parents snickered at her excitement, but for the most part, it took a little while before things seemed to resume back to normal with the general appetite of the room.  
    All in all, it was a nice outing.  I can't help but think that as the kids get older it should become a little easier to do though.  I don't think that I'll ever be able to go to that restaurant again however, without a little smile on my face no matter how many years go by. 
      I'll always picture that three year old little curly haired girl in her church dress, running back to our table and taking the hearts (and stomachs) of everyone else with her.

       Have you ever played sports?  I grew up playing a few different things from basketball in Jr. High, to volleyball, track and cheerleading in high school.  I continued to cheer through my senior year of college and remember hearing the crowds scream during games.  It was always amazing to be able to see the expressions and reactions of the fans.  They were sometimes wild as they jumped up and down and clenched onto each other's shirts or coats.  More often than not, the parents of the players were the most intense.  It was something to watch as sometimes they were brought to tears in their child's victory or defeat.
       I saw it, but I didn't really comprehend it.  I had no way of understanding what it was like for them to watch their child during a game. 
      Our kids have played sports for the past couple of years now and as their level of competition has increased, so has my level of (let's just call it) parental enthusiasm.  
       Our second son, Ethan had his first soccer game of the season, this past weekend.  I've mentioned before that I'm from Ohio and my hometown is just about as into football as you can be.  I figured that we would go to his game/match? and cheer him on, but I have NO idea what to root for in the game of soccer.
       What I realized though, was that when your "baby" is competing in a game, no matter what it is, you will react to it in your own way.  I figured that I, personally, would be the mom that sat in her fold-out chair and watched the kids kick the ball up one way and down the other.  Thennnnn, Ethan got the ball.  Out of nowhere, I turned into "that" Mom.  My brain told me that Ethan needed to run down the field and kick the ball into the net/goal, but my body wanted to go out there and help him do it.  I jumped and screamed, "GO ETHAN!  RUN, BABY RUUUUUUUUNNNNNNN!!!!!"  It was as if Ethan was playing in the Universe Championship game of the entire history of soccer.  Maybe it was the excitement of the sidelines, or the energy from the other families cheering for their kids too...I don't know.  
     At the end of the game I felt exhausted though.  It was one of the coolest things to watch him play, but so hard to stay on the sidelines and feel helpless.  I finally understood it.  When it's your child out there, no matter how old they are, when they're trying to win, (at anything) - every ounce of you wants to go out and help them, but you can't...all you can do is stand there and do whatever it is that gets you through it. 
     The game was fun.  I'll have to admit that it was much more exciting than I ever thought possible.  I'm going to have to learn more about the game of soccer though if I want to be able to yell more than just, "Run, Baby, Run!'  No matter how old he is though, he is my baby.  My heart and love are out on that field with him, wanting to protect and help him with every step. 
     Ethan is seven...Lord help me when the boy is seventeen...I have a pretty strong feeling, that no matter what any of the kids decide to do though, I will always be, "that" mom...which just might not be a bad thing after all. 

     I sometimes wonder if siblings often resemble each other.  I don't mean in their looks or in physical characteristics, but in their personalities.  Before having kids, I would have thought that brothers would act pretty much alike, as would sisters...but in this house?!...not so much. 
    Nothing made this more obvious than one night last week.  Our wonderful neighbors have a daughter that is a beautiful figure skater.  They were nice enough to invite the kids to an open house at the skating rink.  Thinking that this would be just about the coolest thing, (no pun intended) but how neat would it be to go ice skating in August?! 
     I will say, it was a little strange to bundle all four kids up with hats, gloves, long johns and blue jeans as we headed out into the North Carolina summer heat, but once we got to the cold rink, it was well worth it. 
     That's where their personalities, sure enough, kicked in.  Our oldest son immediately said, "Uhhh, do I have to do this?  I don't think that I really want to go out there,"  as our second son had the biggest smile on his face and couldn't wait to hit the ice.  
     Our third son, Preston was trying to figure out what was going on while we wondered if our three year old daughter, Lauren would even be able to walk around in a pair of ice skates. 
     All four kids were laced up and ready to go so we walked them to the rink.  The two middle boys were giddy while our oldest son, Christian continued to say, "Ummm, really.  I don't think that I want to go out there."
     The three younger ones went out and were up and down from the start which didn't seem to phase our second son, Ethan, while Preston and Lauren didn't quite know what to do.  Lauren finally decided that she had fallen enough and wanted to come back out while our oldest son, Christian still hadn't even gotten ON the ice yet.  
      Eventually, he did decide to give it a try, but he stuck to the side of the wall like glue for almost the entire time.  I'm sure it was frustrating for him as Ethan and Preston were tearing it up out on the rink. 
      It was something to see how each of the kids had their own thing going and reacted in their individual ways to the new experience. 
     I hope that we'll get to go ice skating again some other time.  It would be nice to see them go out and have fun while learning something new.  We'll have to keep their personalities in mind though and remember that while it's fun for some, it's not fun for all. 
     I don't think that Christian would agree more.   

     One thing about having older kids (7 and 9 years old) and younger kids (3 and 5 years) is that our older two can sometimes become frustrated with the younger ones.
    Take for instance, the nightly bedtime routine.  The older boys can pretty much handle everything by themselves.  They can take their own baths/showers, brush their own teeth, pick out and put on their own pajamas...you get the idea. 
      On the contrary, our younger two can become quite upset if they can't rinse all of the shampoo out of their hair, or squish the toothpaste from the tube.  It's the little things that can frustrate them.  This seems to baffle our older two sons when it happens.  
     They often ask questions like, "Why does Lauren Elizabeth get so upset when she can't get her buttons the right way?" or, "Why does Preston get so angry when you have to help him brush his teeth?"  
     I thought of an old story that I remembered from when I was young about a buffalo and a butterfly.  I told the boys how if they were to find a tiny pebble and put it on the back of a big buffalo, he would possibly never know the difference.  It wouldn't bother him, he wouldn't feel it...he would probably never care. 
      If, however, you took that same small pebble and placed it on the wing of a butterfly, it would perhaps render him useless.   The weight of the pebble on his fragile wing would be too much for the butterfly to carry. 
     The very same pebble to one, was completely different to another.  The story helped make the boys understand that even though things may be easy for them as "big kids," the very same things might be extremely difficult for their younger siblings.
     I thought about this a little more and realized that I needed take a page from my own lesson book.  It's so easy for us to get frustrated and flat out exhausted from the daily grind of our lives with the kids.  Especially now with school starting, things that seem simple to us as adults, like a morning routine, homework assignments, keeping things organized...the little things...become a hastle when the kids don't do them the "right" way.  Regardless of how hectic our day may be, we have to remember that they are young and still learning.  How we act and react towards them will help shape who they will become in the future.
     I need to try and remind myself, that even though the pebble might seem pretty insignificant to us, it can be a world of difference to them...and there's very little that's more important than giving them strong wings to fly.   

   The World Premiere of "Strawberry Summer," a Hallmark Movie Channel Original will air this Saturday, August 25 (8p.m. ET/PT, 7C). 
     "Strawberry Summer" is a sweet story that has Emmy® and two-time Golden Globe® winning actress Shelley Long ("Cheers") and Golden Globe® nominated actress Cindy Williams ("Laverne & Shirley") starring alongside Julie Mond ("Love Begins," "Love’s Everlasting Courage") and Trevor Donovan ("90210").
       It's a romantic summer movie about a small town's annual Strawberry Festival.  The main character is a high school music teacher named Beth Landon (Mond). She invites the really good-looking country singer Jason Keith (Donovan) to perform as the main event. 
      The only thing is, Jason has a pretty bad reputation for cancelling shows and having a major attitude.  Beth’s mother, Eileen (Long), is somewhat worried about the music star and has concerns about the possibility that he won't show up for the big concert.   She and her best friend Ruth, (Williams) have worked hard towards the success of the festival and don't want to see the town let down by the singer.
      The music teacher Beth, is the reigning Strawberry Queen and tries to stick up for her favorite singer.  When she finally meets him in person however, she realizes that things might be harder than she had originally planned.
      Beth and Jason spend the week of the Strawberry Festival together, finding out about each other and themselves.  Jason's manager Ray (Jilon VanOver, "Hatfields & McCoys") comes back to town at the end of the week to discover a different man. 
     The movie has some great music and also features an original song composed by Nathan Furst and Trevor Donovan with lyrics by Gary Goldstein.
     So this Saturday, grab yourself a bowl of fresh strawberries and be sure to watch the World Premiere of "Strawberry Summer," a Hallmark Movie Channel Original, at 8p.m. ET/PT, 7C.  

     The boys had their back to school pictures this week.  I spent the night before, carefully picking out their outfits and as I ironed them, had memories of their
"Picture Days" in years past.
    We've never had the best luck with an organized photo session.  Even when the kids were babies and had their milestone pictures taken, (newborn, one month, three months, six months, etc.) we were that family that had the screaming baby.  
     This actually started to become a pattern, so much so, that we began to believe that it was normal.   (Babies just  cry at photo shoots.  They don't like the lights or something.) 
    I guess that we had convinced ourselves of this, until one time when we happened to come across a sweet little baby boy that was scheduled for his photo session right before we were.  You guessed it...he was a perfect Angel.  We couldn't believe it.  Here we were with our screaming banshee baby while he was as sweet and as calm as the day is long.

    It didn't stop at photo sessions though...no.  It got to the point that if we went anywhere, a fair, an amusement park or heaven forbid...DisneyWorld...whoever our youngest was at the time, would all but go crazy when we tried to get them by a character to take a picture.
      My husband came up with a great idea that has now come to be known as "the floating baby pictures."  Adam would sneak behind the character, (Woody or Buzz, Mickey Mouse, Santa...don't even get me started on Santa Claus) and he would hold the baby out to the side.  It was kind of like a sneak attack to make sure that all of the kids were in the picture.  As we went back to look through the shots though, we would all but laugh our heads off as we noticed that each picture had this mysterious floating baby hanging over to the side.  In almost every one, the "floating baby" would either be screaming their head off, or giving a look of, "What in the world is going on?"
    It's hard to believe that those days are over for our boys now and they actually had their school pictures taken like big guys.  I can't help but wonder what to expect when that packet of pictures shows up in their backpacks a few weeks from now though. 
    If they have a far off look with a lean to one side as if they're hanging in mid-air...at least we'll know why.   

    We've been trying to get into the swing of things with our back to school schedule.  Mornings seem to be just about the craziest part of the day.  By the time we get the kids up, dressed, lunches packed, backpacks ready, teeth brushed and hair fixed...it feels like we're running late almost every single day. 
     I know that the kids need to eat, but it's so hard to get anything in them as they're running for the door.  I thought of a quick trick today, that turned out to be fun for the kids as well. 
    The idea came to me from something that one of my best friends from home used to do.  She had this thing, that rather than putting salt on her french fries, she would shake the salt into her ketchup instead.  Her reasoning was that this way, the salt wouldn't fall off of her french fries, but instead, it would stay safe in the ketchup.  It may not have been the healthiest of ideas, but it sure was fun to do.
    Fast forwarding to this morning's breakfast...the kids wanted to have cinnamon toast.  If you've ever given a nine year old and seven year old boy, butter, cinnamon and a sugar shaker...you know how big of a mess they can make.  That's when it hit me.  Why not combine them?  I shook some sugar and cinnamon into a bowl with some butter in it and creamed it all together.  I told the boys that it was "cinnamon toast butter" and they couldn't wait to try it.  When their bread popped out of the toaster, each of them was able to spread the butter on their own pieces while I finished packing their lunches.  Win/win.  
     They made their cinnamon toast with no mess, grabbed a handful of strawberries, some milk and ran out the door! 
     As we get more into the swing of things for this back to school season, I would love to try to have more nutritious, sit down breakfasts, but who am I kidding? 
    I'm just glad that we came up with something that the kids can be involved in, while having fun doing it all by themselves...and you know that I've been racking my brain all day, just trying to figure out what else I can put together. 
    hmmmm...what to do...what to do?

     You know that old saying about someone who "wouldn't hurt a fly?"  Well, anyone who knows me could tell you...I really wouldn't hurt one...or a bug, spider, or anything else for that matter.  I know how weird that makes me, but I think that I learned it when I was little. 
        My Grandma would go out with me to catch fireflies or let Daddy Long Legs crawl up my arm.  She would give each little critter a story about how they were probably going home for dinner, or playing outside with their friends.  I remember my Dad would also take me out after a summer rain, to pick up worms or catch frogs.   
        I don't know if they did this so that I would have a respect for nature, or maybe they just didn't want me to scream when I saw a bug.  I'm not really sure.  Sometimes it makes my husband crazy though.  It's much easier for him to just step on a spider in the bathroom, rather than to have to carefully carry it outside. 
     A couple of weeks ago, my parents were visiting and my Dad wanted to make a cup of coffee.  He looked everywhere for our sugar shaker but couldn't find it.  I ended up searching the kitchen for days.  Common sense tells you that with four young kids, the last place you look for something is in the most obvious spot.  I had eventually given up the search.  It was nowhere to be found...unnnntil today.  
       I walked into our bedroom to find Ethan and Preston on the floor together.  They were looking at something and saying, "Let's put them out to play."  I bent down and whispered, "What's going on guys?"  
      "Look, Mom!  ANTS!"  
      "What?!  What are you talking about?"
      "Right HERE!  Look at the ants!"
        Sure enough, they were right.  A couple of itty bitty little ants were crawling around. 
        Thinking that there had to be some source of food to attract them, I looked under the bed...and of course...you guessed it.  Why WOULDN'T the sugar shaker be under there?  Anyone will tell you it's the perfect spot.   
         I yelled out, "WHO did this?"  Our three year old, Lauren Elizabeth was standing in the doorway and happily shouted, "Der it IS!" 
        The kids and I tried to find any other ants so we could take them out back, while my husband thought we were crazy as he went to get the vacuum. 
        Everything is fine now and the sugar (and the ants) are gone.  I'm glad to see the kids grow in their interest and respect for nature though.
       I'm sure that they'll have many more opportunities to bond, just as long as Lauren Elizabeth can get her hands on that sugar shaker again.  I can only imagine where we'll find it next.