Epic fail.

I decided to go all suzy-home maker. By saying that I can also hear my sister's voice half jokingly saying something about how that means I add extra stuff to a cardboard pizza for dinner and call it "home made." The truth is (and believe it or not) I CAN cook and I CAN bake. That said, I spent most of my younger years dodging the kitchen as my Mom made all sorts of home made goodness. Then, as I got older and had kids I came to appreciate the "home made." I am always reminded of home made when I'm with my Dad. He is the beacon of "home made." He grows a garden each year the size of Texas and cans, freezes shares and eats fresh vegetables to beat the band. I decided to join in the festivities and made not one, not two but THREE batches of fresh salsa with Dad. We canned the salsa and I'll admit (and not a minute too soon) that it is awesome. It'll be the perfect addition to a cold, wintry night when a little something fresh could go a long way with the taste buds... and hope for warmer days. Now, if I left the story here it'd be perfect. Delightful and perfect. But... I kept going.

Dad sent me home with a LAUNDRY basket of fresh tomatoes. I thought I'd give them all away... then thought better of it. Since I had the raving success with the salsa, why couldn't I make home made spaghetti sauce? Ummmm, yeah. After prepping the tomatoes, slicing, dicing, adding garlic and seasonings I stewed my amazing concoction (all 18 quarts- roaster full) for a full 40 hours. I looked at countless recipes and thought better of a couple ingredients but added them anyway. Fast forward? Epic fail. I had 18 quarts of not-so-good spaghetti sauce. 18 quarts!! Chalk it up to learning.... I'm no suzy home-maker but I will be back at it again. I figured out what went wrong... just 32 hours too late. A for effort?!

Chasing dreams.

My last year of high school was full of talk. Talk about going to college, next steps and plans. It was about what would "make a good living." *That* always led the conversations at our household growing up. I never felt like I missed out on anything big but I do recall dreams that stayed, well, in just that category. Things I wanted or intended to do that were not pursued or fulfilled. Side note in case you think I'm losing it.. I'm not: I currently am a VERY happy, adjusted woman.

When our oldest kiddo confirmed his post-high school plans involved pursuing Junior hockey I shuddered. I wanted him to go to school, so badly. I had a ticker tape running constantly through my head with the wall street bells including phrases such as: "Get through school, Keep your eye on the ball, If you stop now, will you really go back? and are you aware of how competitive the workforce really is?"

It wasn't until late one night that the Mr. of the household sat me down and looked me squarely in the eye. The conversation was deep - about living life and exploring. Chasing dreams when you're young. Thinking of all the time we have to grow up and how little of that time is really spent doing exactly what we want. After that night, I agreed (still begrudgingly) to go along with no immediate collegiate career... and a life of uncertainty and Junior hockey tryouts.

Today, it turns out, is a tough day for chasing dreams. T has been in New York for a little over a week working toward a spot on a team. He was released from the camp this afternoon with a big lump in his throat. His dream still lives, but not in New York with that particular team. It is great life experience to gain feedback and insight along the path of chasing dreams - it can be formative and really educational but as a parent it's tough. We spend time protecting our kids from difficulties so we can take the pain and make it slightly less. Today was real life, unsheltered.

It is my hope that when we pick him up at the airport Monday he'll be mending for the next leg. As it turns out, the next chase bears another hockey dream chase in the form of a departing car for Canada with Dad early Friday morning. As I think about it tonight I learned early in life that pursuing dreams was what helped form me. I can only hope the same for T and the rest of the kiddos who have spread their wings as they move onto college campuses across the nation. Dream - and chase the dream!

Lucky.

I think lucky is a word that is used often without much thought. As in uses similar to: She's sooo lucky. What a lucky shot. How lucky are they? With a little luck it'll be all right. I think more in terms of hard work and fate. She's lucky because she works hard. They've made the shot because they put in endless, painful hours of work to hone the craft. They're lucky because they work hard. I also lean heavily on fate. What is meant to be, will be. You are intended to learn from every experience. Try this philosophy on - you might find yourself interested in how it all works.

Don't trust a bunny.

For real. Just don't.

This chocolate cotton-tail moseyed into the Tuneberg's Easter Bunny heart. A sole sugar representative, I think the Easter Bunny was feeling a little ambitious and comfortable with the addition, although it was against my better wishes.

What gives? Easy. Usually the basket is a lot less traditional, maybe even unorthodox, brimming with Slim Jim's, Apples and Goldfish crackers. Honestly, it became necessity a while back when we finally realized a direct correlation between certain behaviors in J and consumption of sugar. Since then we've gone out of our way to monitor intake and be REALLY careful with him... as it turns out, testing confirmed that while he's not diabetic sugar lasts 5 times longer than a typical child his age. Which means 5 times the fun of a hopped up kid.

Yesterday was an *acute* reminder not to let any chocolate-anything mosey in, in an increment more than a couple bites. Ain't nobunny worth the chaos it created (no pun intended). :-)

Real change or change for the moment?

Since we're all friends here, I've decided I'm going to let it all out starting with something we've spent most of J's life avoiding - babies. Yes, you read it right, babies. Small humans.

They've posed a problem for as long as I can remember. They cry, he flees as he can. Like a Superhero, he can hear a crying baby over any other possible noise; and I do mean ANY other possible noise. If they're present, he is working to find a way to be away from them. Our best guesses around why? They're a sensory nightmare (no ill will intended toward babies - *we* love them!). They're loud wihout warning, they often smell bad, they urp.. and most of us are satisfied with the amazing smiles they serve up after previous said events. Those events, however, aren't enough to help Jackson stay in their perimeter.

This has caused some serious obstacles for us as a family, through time. First, who doesn't like babies? Are you kidding? That's often the look that comes our way with unsaid words. We are careful where we sit in public - restaurants (yes, hosts and hostesses, we're *that* picky family), movie theaters, neighborhood walks, at the park, at school. In fact, we've packed up countless meals when an open table near us is seated with a baby to keep the peace. It can be really tough and alienating, too.

So imagine my surprise yesterday. We were visiting Grampy for the afternoon and siderailed on over to the Golden Arches. As we sat, J had his head buried in a book and my ever-vigilent survey radared a young one about six tables away pretty quietly eating fries. No worries, he already knew the baby was there. You can imagine my surprise as I found him peeking around his book... maybe even playing a game of peek-a-boo with the baby.

I've never seen it before and I'm not sure I will, again. Moments like that make me wonder... will he age out of the aversion or was it just a fleeting moment? Either way, it's ok. We love him as-is, no implied warranties and if we got a successful dinner date with a baby in proximity, so be it! I say it was a good day.

SH*t People Say...

I bumped into this video compliments of a friend who shared. Honestly, you have no idea how many of these we've heard... and more. Some people try to help, some people have no clue and sometimes I think words fall out because people aren't sure what to say.

My suggestion? Learn from this. Be an honest friend. Compliment the good and support the challenges. It's what you'd want, too.

Our family.

I've decided after a long, quiet hiatus that I need to be blogging. I reminisced on why I started blogging in the first place and have come to realize I started this blog as a way to keep track of all the awesome things my boys said and did, daily. Things that cracked me up and things I hoped I'd never forget because they branded my heart. I'm back!

What my parents already knew...

But didn't say? I think the list looks something like this:

- It doesn't matter how much time you put between the birth of your children. They will still harass and compete with each other.

- Your children will always be best friends and worst enemies. Depends on the day.

- They will always find a way to work you. And, having more than one will enable them to team up like velosa raptors. Smarter, always in twos and constantly checking the parameters.

- Your children will poke at each other to the ends of the earth. However, if someone else bothers their sibling, they will protect them to the ends of the earth.

- Because I said so won't work. Really.

- You'd be bored to death without children. Really.

- Whether they say so or not they love you and each other unconditionally. Really, really.

- Lastly, you will rarely get a decent family photo. See below for a prime example (naughty hand lurking to harass younger brother!):