Just Like The Number

LeBron James and Company

    * I have to fess up and let you know that Mike took this picture. I guess he could've left me at home, but I'm so glad he didn't.

You might think I only have eyes for Peyton.  I do love him, but that doesn't mean I don't have a roving eye for greatness.  This is where I have to give props to my husband.  The Cleveland Cavaliers were in town last Friday to face off against the Pacers, and Mike had two tickets.  He could've taken any number of his buddies and had a memorable Guys Night, but he took me.  I think it must be my smashing hot body and irresistible charm.

Or maybe it was because I'm the only one who knows how to work the fancy camera.

Either way, I earned myself a ticket to see greatness.

Before I get into the LeBron love fest, can I just talk about the mass of flesh that is Shaquille O'Neal?  I really didn't know they made people that big.  I mean, just look at him - it's not like 6'6" Brandon Rush is a small guy:

And his feet! My babies weren't this big at their one-month appointments.  

LeBron is the real show, though: blocked shots out of no where, double around-the-back passes, just short of a triple double, and the sweet dunks.  His athleticism is amazing, but the best part for me is his demeanor on the court.  

He's a competitor for sure - no one wants to win more than him.  Still, I love a guy that doesn't take himself too seriously.  He's having a good time out there with his teammates.  

Even when he's getting fouled.

Thanks for letting me come along, Mike, even if you were just using me for my camera.  I think we both came out winners.  I got to see LeBron and Co.  You ended your Guys Night with a kiss - which could have been confusing.  But since you picked me? Totally not.

Happy Tweetsgiving!

"Would you and Mike like to go out sometime this weekend? We don't have any plans if you want to drop the kids off and have them spend the night."

No, that's not some sort of dream sequence - that's a regular occurrence in my life.  At least once a month, if not more, I get a phone call from my mom with those words.  She can barely finish her question before I've got the kids' suitcase packed and the two of them buckled in the car.  And the best part is, the kids are just as excited as I am.  They love their sleepovers at Grandpa and Abuela's.

This Thanksgiving, I'm so incredibly thankful for my parents and all they do for my little family.  It might not seem like much to them (or maybe it does, seeing as how Eli gets up at the butt crack of dawn when he spends the night there), but the impact of their kindness has a tremendous ripple effect.  Mike and I know that every few weeks we can look forward to an evening to ourselves.  A nice dinner, a chance to talk without constant interruption, a few extra hours of sleep in the morning.  The kids know that every few weeks they can look forward to an evening with just their grandparents.  A few sweet treats, a movie watched together or games played.  Eli loves following my dad around the house, and Elena loves coming up with a new project to sew with my mom.  Those special evening strengthen both marriage bonds and family bonds.

I know we're lucky, and I'm thankful for my parents and all they do. 

The inspiration for this post (other than my wonderful parents) came from the upcoming #tweetsgiving event in Indianapolis sponsored by Epic Change.  Epic Change is a non profit organization that helps "raise money for less fortunate entrepreneurs, giving everyone a voice." #tweetsgiving is a 48 hour event to raise money for the organization.  Last year they raised over $10,000 for a school in Tanzania.  You can find more information about Epic Change here.

If you're in Indy, I hope you'll consider attending the Indy #tweetsgiving tweetup at Scotty's Brewhouse (downtown location) on Tuesday, November 24 from 5-9 p.m.  Cash donations will be accepted there, and Scotty's will be matching 10% of the sales that evening.  If you can't make it, please consider making a donation.  If you're on twitter, be sure to follow the hashtags #indytweetup, #indytweetsgiving and #tweetsgiving. 

Pay a visit to these other local bloggers and see what they're thankful for:

    Scott Wise of For What Ales You

    Scott Semester of All I'm Saying

    Robby Slaughter of Slaughter Development

    Nila Nealy of The Human Condition

    Lindsay Manfredi of Linzstar

    Michael Reynolds of michaelreynolds.com

    Jon Speer of Creo Quality

    Pamela Reilly of Rawvolutionary Healing

    Kenan Farrell of klflegal

    Nancy Myrland of Myrland Marketing

    Nicki Laycoax of Squish Designs

    Amy Stark of Stark Reality Check

And lastly, I'd love to hear what you're thankful for in your life right now!

Tailgate

I watch every Colts game, and every game is important to me.  But there's one match-up that stands out from all the others, that makes me feel excited and nauseous at the same time.

Colts vs. Patriots.

Beating the Patriots is more than just a W.  It's bragging rights, it's pitchers of margaritas and home field advantage on the line, it's good vs. evil.

Okay, maybe that's taking it a bit far, but we feel pretty strongly about the Patriots around these parts:

Mike and I have been lucky enough to say we were at the Colts-Patriots game that really mattered a couple of years ago.  We didn't have tickets to last Sunday's match-up, but we did score a sweet invite to tailgate before the big game with our friends Jessica, Joe, Lindsay and Jeff.  I've never been to a bona fide NFL tailgate.  These people do not mess around.

Cornhole was played (I suck, by the way).  Food was eaten. Fantasy games were lost.  Good times were had by all, especially by Jessica and me.

As Mike and I got ready to leave to watch the game from the comfort of our own couch, I had a pretty good feeling about the Colts chances.  I mean if Tom Brady is dead, that's a good sign we could win, right?

Turns out, Brady returned from the dead to have himself a pretty decent game.  Him and that Randy Moss character.  I love to see players from the MAC do well and all, but by the end of the 3rd quarter I was ready to see some fireworks from a certain SEC player.  I learned my lesson after the Tampa Bay game way back in 2003, when I wrote the Colts off and went to bed.  So with 4 minutes to go in the 4th quarter, dejected as I was, I hung in there.  We all know what happened from there.  (What's that? You don't? WE WON, PEOPLE!)

Believe in blue.  Believe in Number . . .

Thank God for Nature

I woke up on Saturday morning to an unusual situation: no plans for the day ahead.  For the first weekend in a long time, we had nothing to do, nowhere to be.  "We" would be the kids and me.  Mike had his friend Mike in town and they were headed up to West Lafayette for the Purdue - Ohio State football game.  It was one of those morning where I could have happily stayed home in my pj's for the entire day.  The kids had other intentions, though.  Oh, we could have all stayed home in our pj's, but not all of us would have been alive by the end of the day.  Not when you have one child who thought it would be brilliant to set her alarm for 5:30 a.m. on a Saturday after staying up past 10 p.m., and another who thought it would be brilliant to hurl Little People school-buses and wood blocks at the cranky early-riser. No, it was best if we all got dressed and got ourselves a little bit of fresh air, in hope that some sanity and common sense might drift in along with it.

I threw everyone in the car and just drove, and we ended up at Ritchey Woods.  I set the kids free in hopes that, given the 127 acres available to us, surely they could manage to find their own space and keep their freakin' hands to themselves.

A downright ugly morning slowly dissipated into a borderline lovely afternoon. 

We all cope with stress in our own ways.  Eli found his special place right away.

 

Myself, I prefer a pumpkin spice latte. 

The colors are just amazing right now, and the light filtering through the trees was awesome.

 

 

I do love this girl dearly, even if she does wake me up at 5:30 a.m. on a Saturday.  Little does she know, I'm taking notes.  She'll be getting a few Saturday morning phone calls in college. 

 

When I got back home and starting looking through the pictures I took, I realized that every picture of Eli featured two trails of snot from his nose to his mouth.  And there were some really good ones, too.

 

Howza bout you put that camera down for two seconds and wipe a boy's nose?

Thank God for nature.  After a good hour of running around, we came home and all went to our bedrooms to rest.  I had to wake Eli up 3 1/2 hours later.  Shortly after that, Mike came home.  And just like that, all was right in the world again. 

Stuckey Farm Apples

It was a shameful summer for picking our own produce here at Casa Seis.  We live mere minutes from a fabulous strawberry patch, and we did not pick our own strawberries this summer.  Not once.  It would be equally convenient for us to pick our own blackberries and raspberries.  Again, we did not.  I'm not sure why, but it's very sad.

Apple season is now upon us and I've learned my lesson from the summer of produce past.  I took the kids out to Stuckey Farms in Sheridan last week.  There are quite a few apple orchards around Indianapolis, but this one is probably my favorite.  The apple cider slushies might be a factor in my opinion.  The older gentlemen who gives us a ride down to the end of the rows of apple trees is definitely a factor in my opinion. 

We didn't pick bushel upon bushel of apples.  I prefer to just let the kids run in and around the trees and sample all the different varieties of apples.  While they frolic, I take pictures.  I dare you to go to an apple orchard and not come away with pictures that make you smile. 

It seems each year poses some challenge to one of my children in regards to developmental milestones.  Last year it was Eli having to do his Jungle Book crawl over the rocks.  This year it's Elena's turn.  Have you ever tried eating an apple when 3 out of your 4 front teeth are missing?

It's especially hard when your mother is laughing at you and you know she's going to put your troubles on the internet for everyone to see. 

Happy Fall.  Go pick some apples or pumpkins before it's too late.  I'd hate for you to go into the long dark days of winter with any produce regrets.  That's my Public Service Announcement for the year.

Now here's your Public Service Apple.

FANtasy Football

It's no secret that I'm a huge fan of the Indianapolis Colts.  That one guy (number 18 I think?), might have something to do with it.  Unfortunately, the depth of my devotion to the boys in blue does not correspond to the depth of our bank account, which means season tickets?  Out of the question.  To add insult to injury, I had yet to go to a game in the new stadium.  And I call myself a fan . . .

Our friends Jessica and Joe took pity on us and let us have their tickets for Thursday night's preseason game against the Philadelphia Eagles.  My parents took pity on us and kept our kids overnight.  Score and double score. 

It was a beautiful evening, which meant the stadium roof and windows were open.  I love the new stadium.  I love the Colts.  I love my city.

I love my husband.  The first time we went to a Colts game together, they were playing the Tennessee Titans. Much to my dismay, he wore a Titans jersey to the game.  Now, had they been playing the Patriots and had Mike worn a Patriots jersey?  He might not have made it out alive.  Then again, that's a moot point.  As if I would have even entertained the thought of marriage had he been a Patriots fan!  Still, the Titans jersey didn't get him any love from the Colts fans.  I recall getting a lot of offers to enjoy the company of real men, only they were worded in ways that really aren't fit for a family blog.  Mike chose his outfit a little more carefully this time.

 

Much to my surprise, they let me bring my zoom lens into the stadium.  For some reason, it seems to only want to zoom in on Mr. Manning.  I loved capturing some of his classic stances from the line of scrimmage:

 

 

Did somebody say fantasy football?

 

I'm sorry.  I really can't help myself.  Just thank your lucky stars that we don't go to more games. 

Indiana State Fair

I grew up in Indiana.  After graduating from college, I spent ten years in Tennessee.  I wanted so much to be a bona fide Southerner.  Let's face it, being a Southerner is much more exciting than being a Midwesterner.  I longed for a Southern drawl as opposed to my flat Midwestern accent.  The food was richer, the people were nicer and the weather was to die for.  Now that I'm back in Hoosier land once again, I still miss so many things about the South. 

But our State Fair?  It kicks the Tennessee State Fair's ass.  

I remember the first time I went to the Tennessee State Fair.  This is what I saw: midway, cotton candy, Nascar souvenirs and thugs.  There might have been a pig or a cow, somewhere, but it was probably cowering in a corner, scared for its life.  To be fair to my Southern friends, y'all can throw one hell of a county fair.  But somewhere between the county and the drive into downtown Nashville it all falls apart.

THIS is what a State Fair should be:

Animals.  The stinkier the better.  Mike was horrified that I would take a picture of a nursing mother.  He should just count his lucky stars I didn't wander across the aisle and take a picture of the World's Largest Pig's balls instead.  Psssht.  City boy.

 

Fried Food.  If it stands still long enough, it can be fried. I've heard there are healthy options at the fair. I've also heard there's life on Mars.

 

 

Tractors. Preferably with grumpy children, tired of having their picture made (look! something Southern stuck!) in 93 degree heat.

 

Cheese.  I prefer mine from the Dairy Barn, in the grilled  or fried stick variety, but if you'd rather get a 400 lb block of it and carve it into zombie babies?  We're okay with that. 

 

You throw all those things together and you're talking about a good time.  And if you've played your cards right, you should leave the fair looking something like this:

Colts Training Camp

There's plenty to love about August around here.  The State Fair, for one.  The first day of school is just around the corner.  A certain boy has a birthday.  And while those are all fine things, they just can't compare to the first morning I fetch the Indianapolis Star and see that Bob Kravitz is writing about the Colts again.  It means one thing, and one thing only: football season is just around the corner. 

The beginning of football season kicks off the same way for every team: training camp.  The Colts hold their training camp at Rose Hulman Institute of Technology in Terre Haute every year.  After living here for three (three!) years, I decided this was the year we'd make the trek over to training camp and see our boys in action.

One of the first faces we saw this morning was that of Dallas Clark.  I love this guy.  I like my players to be good guys on and off the field, and Mr. Clark never disappoints.  I bet he smiles like this when he gets one past the Patriots defense. 

A little further down the field we have Mr. Reggie Wayne and Mr. Joseph Addai.  

Joseph: Peyton's salary is only this big.

Reggie: And Eli's salary is THIS big!

Random Guy Who Probably Still Got A Super Bowl Ring: Word.

But, seriously people, what do you think I really drove nearly two hours with two small children for?

Er, I mean who. Although his what is pretty nice, if I do say so myself. Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Peyton Manning . . .

This part of him ain't so bad either . . .

I know, I know.  It's hard to take me seriously as a football fan when all I do is comment on a player's body, or how nice he looks when he bends over.  I am a serious football fan, really I am.  Just to prove it, here's a nice photo of my boys at work on the line of scrimmage. 

We watched as many plays as we could, in between taking turns entertaining Eli and trying to keep him from running on to the field with his little football.  The boys were looking good, and practice was humming right along, until Peyton caught wind that I was on the sidelines.

Angie's here? The actual Angie from Just Like The Number? And she's wearing her "Got Peyton" shirt?

And just like that, practice was over.  Peyton autographed our jerseys and football, then he whisked me away to wine me and dine me while I interviewed him for this very blog.

Okay, so maybe that's not how it really went down.  Practice went on.  The kids started their own game of football on the sidelines.

 

If you look closely, you'll see Elena's very crooked front tooth.  It had been hanging on by a thread (and quite frankly, grossing us all out) for nearly the whole summer.  A few tosses of the old pigskin later, she took one to the face.  And with that, the tradition of losing a tooth on a Friday continued. 

We tried to get some autographs, but had no luck.  In spite of that, I would say a good time was had by all.  Especially by a certain girl with a zoom lens on her camera.

Ritchey Woods in the Spring

It's been raining buckets around here.  Between the endless rain and Eli's three-day fever last week, it feels like we've been stuck inside forever.  Much to everyone's happiness, the sun finally came out last Tuesday and it was the most glorious spring day of the season.

In the afternoon we headed over to Ritchey Woods Nature Preserve.  I have professed my love for Ritchey Woods before, when we had Elena's nature birthday party there last summer.  On this occasion, Elena was signed up for a program with a naturalist.  While she hiked to the swamp to look for amphibians, Eli and I walked the Preschool Trail.

Eli is a big fan of sticks these days, the bigger the better.  He found a "gick" just the right size for poking into muddy puddles.

He took to the trail like he'd been doing this his whole life.  He wasn't crazy about walking through the mud, but he loved looking at the flowers, the birds, and most of all, the bugs.

There must be hundreds of different wildflowers in bloom right now.  This is a mayapple.  The flower actually blooms underneath the leaves.  If you're not paying attention, you'll miss it.  And that would be a shame - it really is a pretty flower.

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There were masses of these flowers all along the trail.  I had to hunt around the web to figure out what they were: wild hyacinth.

If there was ever a wildflower that made you want to stand up taller and smile a little bigger, this is it.

Today it's raining buckets again.  But you know what they say about spring showers . . .