You like me, you really like me!

Andrew was invited to play at his friends' house this afternoon. In the car on the way over, I explained to him that they have a nanny.

Andrew: What's a nanny?

Me: It's like a babysitter all the time, when the kids get home from school.

Andrew: Where is their dad?

Me: At work.

Andrew: Where is their mom?

Me: At work.

~pause~

Andrew: I'm glad you are home, Mom.

~choirs of angels begin to sing~

Andrew: I wouldn't want to have a nanny.

Me, feeling overjoyed: I can't even tell you how happy I am to hear that, Andrew.
I am very glad to be your mom all the time.

I'm fine with the ying, but does the yang have to come with it?

Today I made a trip to my favorite of grocery stores, Aldi. I love that place. Cheap and quick. I don't even mind bagging my own purchases. But here is what I don't like--putting groceries away. And as I hauled bag after bag into to house, I realized that this is a pattern with me and the household chores. I am not a fan of putting things away.

I love folding laundry, I hate emptying the baskets of folded clothes.

I enjoy filling the dishwasher up with dirty dishes, I cannot stand putting clean ones in the cabinets.

I get excited about tossing garbage, I loathe taking out a full bag of trash.

I go to great lengths to avoid doing the dreaded half, too. In my opinion, this is one of the many benefits of having a husband and kids. You see, the kids have been emptying their own laundry baskets for years now. Emptying the dishwasher is a big part of the kids' dinner chores rotation. And as for the garbage, well, I will go so far as to start another bag of trash and hang it on the kitchen closet door than walk the 50 steps to the garage with a full bag.

I did unload the Aldi's bags today, but just to set the stuff on the counter, not to put it in the pantry. I've got my worker bees coming home in a half hour.

The world according to Brooke, Part 3

"I want to learn how to make fried eggs because I want to eat them in college."

This might be a good thing for me, seeing as how she ate 3 for breakfast this morning. We may have to add this to the agenda for FHE tonight.

WARNING: This mom does not read warnings!

Andrew has been sick, but he is a tough one. Doesn't want to miss out on anything. Doesn't complain too much. Definitely doesn't want to go to the doctor. But after he started saying his ear hurt over the weekend, and then after he suddenly stopped playing with his cousins and friend and climbed up on my lap yesterday afternoon, I decided it was time to take him in.

Our appointment was for 9:00 this morning. And sure enough, double ear infection. One ear so bad the eardrum may have perforated slightly. Poor guy. We got the prescriptions, dropped them off at the pharmacy, and headed to the school for the PTA meeting. See, at this point he was doing ok. I knew he wouldn't be heading back to class, but he could sit with me for the meeting, we'd pick up the medicine, and head home to get settled.

And that's what we did. Only he seemed to get more lethargic and feverish as the meeting wore on. And I didn't realize he hadn't had breakfast. My only thought was to get the first dose of antibiotics in him and get him to bed.

He slept for a little bit, and when he came down he said his tummy hurt. Then he started crying his tummy hurt. Then I asked him if he thought he was going to throw up, and when he answered "I don't know," I promptly directed him to the bathroom. He did the deed, and I knew immediately what the problem was. And then when I finally pulled out the prescription information that said to take the medicine with food, my fears were confirmed. Why on earth did I think I could give a kid Augmenten without any food in him? I feel so bad that not only did he have to endure that discomfort, but we also lost the first dose! Down the toilet.

I can only hope that my kids survive in spite of their air-headed mother.

"This is my ... last night in the nursery..."

One more dinner together,

a couple dozen trips up and down the stairs, another photo shoot on the couch, hugs and kisses all around, and last but not least,

one

final

trip

to

Mitchell's.
Thanks for sharing three weeks with us, Jill and Jenna!

Duck Walk

Porter, Jenna, and I had some time to kill. So I went right to what I know, or knew, from when my kiddies were little. We went for a walk.

Those neural pathways dug many years ago still exist. It was second nature to herd two toddlers down the sidewalk, guide them off neighbor's lawns and past the guy putting in sprinklers and all his hoses, and down to the duck pond.

In our neighborhood, the duck pond is where the sidewalk ends. It is behind a chain link fence and a rail guard. For the best view, you have to stand on the rail guard and peer through the overgrown trees and weeds. It may not seem like much, but when there are little ones involved, it is a destination. Within walking distance.

I lifted both Porter and Jenna up on the rail guard and remembered how it was to have my arms full of kids. The three of us stood there for a bit, the kids leaning back against me, and it was good. But no ducks greeted us (flown south already?) so the kids were on to something else. Like trying to sneak down the street instead of getting back on the sidewalk. Or walking on to someone's lawn while watching for my reaction. That too was oh so familiar.

This little niece and nephew of mine remind me about times past. And make me wonder if I didn't thoroughly enjoy it while it was happening. But like most moms of young children, I was in major survival mode at the time. A walk to the duck pond was merely a means of survival, with a bonus of fresh air, exercise, and nature. I think Porter and Jenna are my bonus--a second chance to go see the ducks.

The Emblem of the Game He Loves

Andrew had his first flag football game on Saturday. He is on the Cardinals team, which he isn't too thrilled about when there are teams like the Giants, Jets, and Browns. (What city are the Cardinals in, Mom? I dunno, go ask your dad.) And then his team lost, so he comes home saying they stink. Oh dear.

I was a little nervous during the first practice when I saw the boys practicing their blocks. I only have one boy. My brother is the only boy. My husband is the only boy. All the boy cousins are only boys. So while Andrew does wrestle with his cousins, there is enough of an age difference that the older one goes easy on the younger one. I am not familiar in the ways of multiple boys grabbing and pushing and holding onto each other. And that is acceptable and encouraged in the game of football. So I take a deep breath and keep quiet.The pictures aren't so great, because I didn't really know what I was looking at. I know the basics of football, but not enough to call offsides or anything, but then you throw in the rules of flag football (which Glenn also knows, not surprisingly) and it's a whole new ball game. Literally.

Andrew had a pretty big cheering section, too. And we got pretty loud when Andrew got to play quarterback for the 2 point conversion (in lieu of a field goal). He made a good run for the end zone, but someone grabbed his flag. We are hoping he gets some more time at the helm.Watch An-doo!There's a fan loose on the field! Whose baby is that?!?

Let there be light (and satellite TV in the kitchen)

Glenn has a dream. It is a dynamic dream, changing from time to time. It is a dream I try to have an opinion about, putting my two cents in whenever I can. But it is Glenn's dream, and he is taking the smallest of baby steps to see that dream realized.

It is a dream to have a home theater in our basement.

We have a good-sized basement, with plenty of room for said home theater, but we do not have a good-sized budget to accompany said basement. This is where the baby steps come in. Teeny tiny ones, but steps nonetheless.

Saturday was another step forward. Glenn put three new lights in the basement. With their own switches. He talked over the wiring with our brother-in-law, Daryl, checked out some books from the library, made a couple of trips to Lowe's, and then called me down to the basement Saturday night to see the magic of electricity light up the dark corners. He wouldn't call it magic, after all the work he put into it, but I have no idea how it happened, so it is magic to me.
He says the next step is to knock down the art room walls. When he says this, he gets a gleam in his eye, rubbing his hands together greedily, just waiting to get a hold of the sledgehammer. That will be a giant leap towards getting that gargantuan TV out of the front room and having a nice little nook for the piano and bookshelves....wait a minute, maybe this is my dream, too.

Nah, it's all Glenn.

My dream was to have a TV hook up in the kitchen on Saturday, since there was a lot of work to be done at the counter. Chopping vegetables and peeling apples and baking cakes is so much more pleasant while watching What Not To Wear. And in our house, when it comes to satellite or internet (and miles and miles of cords and wires), ask and ye shall receive.

Have you ever....

.....vacuumed the crumbs off the kitchen table?

.....eaten stale Cheetos just because the bag was in front of you?

.....laid down for a quick nap but were awakened by the sound of the bus at the end of the driveway?

.....spent hours reading someone's (whom you don't know) blog?

.....told your child you were too tired to play catch with him?

.....thrown your own mini tantrum that included chucking a back pack down the hall?

Yeah, me neither.

Bigger than a bread bowl

Cleveland is toying with the idea of fall. Jeans and other long pants are being worn with more frequency. Children wear jackets on crisp, dewy mornings, only to shed them in the warm afternoon sun. Steam billows off mine and Melissa's sweaty heads as we stand on the corner to finish up our running discussion. My nightly uniform tranforms from extra-large Cavaliers t-shirt and maternity yoga pants (I didn't realize they were maternity when I bought them--you know how crazy those Old Navy clearance racks get--but they sure do the trick!) to extra-large Calvin Klein sweatshirt and maternity yoga pants. My kids are back to going to bed after dark. And I am in the mood for soup.

Our first soup was Monday. I made some chicken noodle soup. Not Campbells. My own made up version, complete with pumpkin puree. (Please don't tell my husband and kids.) It was hot and tasty and healthy.

Another day of soup was on this week's menu. And this time, it was going to be tomato. Of the canned variety. With panini, a.k.a. sophisticated grilled cheese sandwiches. But then I went to Giant Eagle today and found the most serendipitous treasure in the bakery section. Sourdough bread bowls. Two for 99¢. I call that a bargain. And so the panini plan was moved to the back burner (actually the top of the fridge) and I prepared to introduce my children to the beauty of a bread bowl.

My ideal soup to place in these little round bits of heaven was of course, the Brooks family favorite--potato cheese soup. I quickly made a u-turn back to produce to snag a 10 pound bag of spuds. And that was the plan, until Andrew's football practice went past 5:00, and I decided to stop at the library and I remembered that our house was the equivalent of a pig sty. And there was a little shot of summer thrown in around 4:30 for good measure, so I got too hot for a long, involved process. Another plan moved to the back burner (it'll be on next week's menu), but I couldn't bring myself to put a microwaved add-one-can-of-water-and-stir soup in the bowls, so I decided to jazz it up. Yeah, there was tomato soup, but I added some black beans, a can of tomatoes with lime and peppers, tomato sauce, and yes, more pumpkin puree (it was a big can). It was hot and tasty and healthy. And it was served in bread bowls.

Are you talkin' to me? Did you rub my bread bowl?

I'm a (biggest) loser, baby, so why don't you kill me?

Actually, we'll let these greasy (turkey, but greasy nonetheless) burgers do the job. But what better way to celebrate the premiere of The Biggest Loser than with The Biggest Burger? It was only after the food was effectively (and quite rapidly) consumed that I learned about the possibility of fat surrounding both the abdominal organs and those in the chest cavity. Ugh. Thank you, Biggest Loser, for the graphic graphics. And for the wake up call.

And my apologies for the graphic photo above. Not everyone gets to see me (us) in our natural state, so consider yourselves lucky.

Don't Stop Me Fallin'

Melissa and I have been participating in the Race for the Cure since 2005. On that October day, I had never run a 5K and Melissa was pregnant with Porter. A lot has changed since then, but we have done the race every year. But this time was my secret favorite. Because this time Jill was here. And she registered. And got a bib to pin on her shirt. And she pinned that bib on and lined up at the starting line (well, a few yards back anyway) with 20,000 other people in the sticky, wet, drizzly weather and waited for Romona Robinson to ring the starting bell. And then the three of us started running. Together. The whole way.
Together forever and never to part. All the way to the finish line. Then to the sidewalk for a rest. Then to the Mitchell's ice cream booth for a free scoop. Together for a second trip to Kohls, pizza and movie night, more Mitchell's and What Happened in Vegas. Don't you know I would move heaven and earth to be together forever with you?

Dream on, Dream Away

Some big plans were being made on the bus ride home from school today. In the works for the year 2018:

When Brooke and Sydney are in college, they will buy beach houses, along with Emma and Leah. Each girl will have her own house, and this is the order they will be in (from left to right): Emma, Sydney, Leah, Brooke. They will visit each other and eat in the living room and in bed--candy, popcorn, ice cream. They will stay up late. They will paint each others' toenails.

Yet to be determined--

How they will find a beach house in Provo, since the one thing Brooke knows for sure is that when she turns 18, she is going to BYU.

I am like a hurricane, but there is NO calm in my eye

Most of you have probably heard by now about a little storm named Hurricane Ike and how it devastated Texas. But what you may not know is that its effect was felt all the way up here in Ohio. From huge downpours all day Saturday (man, we just had to shop a little bit longer until the rain let up--what a sacrifice!), to 60 mph winds and power surges yesterday, we too have been feeling Ike's wrath. This morning on our run Melissa and I were dodging downed tree branches and walnuts and various other object right and left. (Melissa called it our cross training.)

And it doesn't end there. At about 7:15 Melissa called wanting to know if I had heard that our elementary school was closed due to a power outage. No, I had not heard. I called Andrew in from the end of the driveway and we turned on the news. Sure enough, there went Holly Lane scrolling along the bottom of the screen. Emma and Leah were pretty bummed out because for them, school was still on. I was pretty bummed out because I had lots of stuff planned to get done today. And Brooke and Andrew have still not had a full week of school. Is that too much to ask?

The rest of the morning has been a bust. We've got gray skies, of course, which makes me want to pull on the pajama pants and pull up the blankets. Then I left a polite but firm voice mail with the superintendent that I was not happy that I had not received an official notification that school had been closed. We'll see if he responds. Next was a phone call from Leah at school saying both she and Emma had forgotten something at home and could I bring it by 9:45. Oh, well, by all means. I was planning to go out anyway (originally alone, now dragging two kids with me) so I agreed. The three of us piled into the car, and as I got down the road I realized I had forgotten the items that the girls needed. So (fuming at this point) I turned the car around to retrieve the items. Leah had told me specifically where her book was, but I could not find it. And you know as moms, we are good at finding things. So I don't know what the consequences will be, but hey--life lesson #124, right?

Back on the road now, the kids and I drop off first Emma's flute and then some paperwork to the doctor. On to Target, the only other stop I need to make. Just need to pick up a couple of things and then the kids can go over the Chatterton's to play. You would think that the two of them can hold it together. But oh no. They are giggling, hiding, running around, and generally ignoring me completely. So guess what happened. Well, we're not at the Chatty's, let's put it that way.

There is some blue sky trying to peek through outside, but the storm is not over yet.

You get what you pay for.....

Between "Dancing with the Stars" and "So You Think You Can Dance," we (and by we I mean me and the kids, not Glenn) have gotten into dance a little bit. So when I saw that Playhouse Square was having a free dance showcase on Friday night, I thought we could make a girls' night out of it. Who can pass up an opportunity to go downtown for a night of culture for just the price of gas? (Don't answer that, Dad.)

The girls, both old and young, were excited--we got gussied up and with open seating, were only a few rows from the stage. We were told by someone important to Playhouse Square that this was a juried selection of performers, that 13 professional companies had auditioned to be part of the showcase, and only six got to perform. Surely this was going to be good. The house lights went down, and the dancers took the stage. Except that this pair was--how do I put this delicately--old. It was like watching my parents. Except not my dad. Because there is no way in H-E-double-you-know-what he'd ever be up there. Hey, I have nothing against those of an older generation cutting a rug. I liked me some Marie Osmond and Jane Seymour. But there has to be something there. A sparkly costume, a cute partner, some upbeat music. And no rolling around on the floor. Please. Leave that to the kids.

After that, it could only get better, right? Well, after the male topless acrobatics duet (Dad would have walked out at this point) and the Russian-looking bird lady rolling around on some boxes and a couple other forgettable acts, we ended up with African Soul. They brought the house down. Finally, some people who looked like they were excited to be dancing, and not tortured by pyschosis (yes, one dance was based entirely on somebody's mental instabilities).

Now in my defense, I have learned to be very opened-minded by dance. I can appreciate (even though I may not fully understand) a Mia Michaels routine on any given day. And, every so often, a lyrical or contemporary routine can bring a tear to my eye. I may not understand exactly what it means to dance "organically," but I definitely have gained more respect for more kinds of dancing. But really, Friday night, I had nothin'. Oh, I put on a good face for the kids, because we do have to be respectful, but really. Is that all you could come up with? Was that really the best of the best? Why do I think there won't be any SYTYCD auditions in these parts any time soon? And this, in the lobby as we exited......

.....just sealed the deal.

Deja Vu...All Over Again

With Jenna here, I have been reliving the toddler years...just without the stress and pressure and guilt and worry. So basically, it's been great. I love how Jenna has the same curly baby mullet that Brooke had...{THEN}

{NOW}

...and gets just as messy!

{THEN}

{NOW}

We have made play dough (because I don't have the real stuff anymore!),What is this stuff?

Who cares? This stuff is awesome!

gone for a walk in the Metroparks, No, Aunt Amy, I do not want to take a picture with you... I would rather play in the mud and throw rocks in the river with Porter!

played with the few age-appropriate toys I have left, A scene from yesteryear...toys in the living room!

walked Emma and Leah to the bus stop, and watched for the kids to come home from school. (sorry, no photo!)

What is very different than when my kids were this age, is that there are older kids around who LOVE to play with Jenna, watch after her, and chase her around. I wonder how different things would have been with a couple of ten year olds and an eight year old around to help out with the little ones. Emma, Leah, and Brooke are so good with Jenna...and Jenna loves to play with them.We thought Jenna might be a bit overwhelmed by the number of cousins and the sheer amount of noise they create, but she has fit right in and saves her biggest laughs and squeals for the kids.

Riddle Me This

If a mom asks a houseful of kids to do something, but nobody listens to her the first time, has she actually made a sound?

Separation of Church and State?

Today Brooke came home with a (photocopied) letter from Laura Bush extolling the benefits of reading. I asked Brooke if she knew who Laura Bush was, and with an emphasis on the Bush portion of the name, she was able to figure it out. I then asked if she knew what Mrs. Bush's title is. The question was met with a look of confusion. The rest of the conversation...

Me: Well, George W. Bush's title is President of the United States, and Laura Bush's title is....

Brooke: (another confused look)

Me: She's the First......

Andrew: (piping in) Counselor!

*For my non-Mormon readers, you can click here and then on "Additional Information" to see why Andrew would gotten mixed up!

Clearing away the cobwebs and the sorrow...

Once upon a time, two little girls found some magic in a movie called "Annie." Just about every day, during that right-before-dinner-and-Daddy-coming-home hour we mothers love so much, these two eighteen month olds would drag out their squares and floor pillows and plop down in front of the TV to watch a little girl singing about (and overcoming) her hard-knock life. This bought their mother precious time to get dinner made and the house organized and her thoughts organized after a busy day of trying to keep these kiddos entertained. The mother quite enjoyed this updated version of the original movie, and quickly learned every note of the entire score and most of the script, and would even shed some tears from time to time when Grace lovingly reminded Annie that the sun surely would come out tomorrow.

The "Annie" phase in the household was a pleasant time for all, but soon the little girls moved on to "Tarzan," Disney princesses, Zoom, High School Musical, and Hairspray. Annie and her gang of orphans were lost in the shuffle, until one day the girls' father recorded it again, thinking someone might want to watch it sometime.That time didn't come until today, nearly nine years later, when a new little eighteen month old girl was having a rough time right before dinner. Her two big cousins, each now a wise ten years old, without the squares and thumbs, turned on their old favorite musical. She grabbed her own special blankets and found a new spot to plop down between them for a couple minutes of quiet contemplation. And just as it did almost a decade ago, "Annie" helped an energetic toddler and her caregiver (Aunt Amy this time) gather their wits about them after a long, full day.

So if you're ever stuck with a day that's gray and lonely...stick up your chin and grin and watch "Annie." Bet yer bottom dollar it'll do the trick.

Living in an Amish Paradise

The fun has arrived! Jill and Jenna got here on Wednesday and it is so good to have them here. And to know they'll be here for three weeks! I love how this morning, while making the long drive back to Melissa's house, Jill tells me, "Thank you for letting me come out here for so long." My response? "Thank you for wanting to be out here so long!" It never seems like long enough....

We are of course in the throes of school stuffs, so during the week there is not much opportunity for big outings or excursions. We did start last weekend off right with a trip down to Amish Country. We headed down to Berlin, where there was a rib cook-off and street festival, which consisted of some tables set up along the sidewalks and some pricey games that the kids didn't play. The ribs smelled good, but it was too crowded and there were way too many of us to try to stop and eat.

We piled back in he cars and went down the road to Schrock's Amish Farm, which Mom and Dad will remember as having a big barn with horses and kittens to pet. The barn was gone, but the pen with goats and a dirty cow was still there. You could walk right in and the goats were very friendly.Watch out for that poo!

Our next stop was the pet store where there were so many cute puppies for the kids to hold. I could have taken home a little toy yorkie right then and there, but Emma and Leah would not trade Angel (the guinea pig) in. I don't think Angel would get us the $500+ necessary to make a puppy purchase anyhow. Poor Emma accidentally dropped one of the little squirmy guys on the floor, and she felt so bad. Vernon, the nice Amish man who worked there, reassured her that it was ok, and that it had even happened to him before. He marveled that Emma and Leah are twins, and was very impressed by their Amish-sounding names! I think we got in good with Vernon...maybe he could have cut us a deal on the puppies!

Andrew holding item # 52 on his birthday list

As we left Schrock's, I was able to snap this picture of a cute little Amish boy weaving baskets. Notice the lovely hand-made bucket and water cooler at his side.For me, no trip to Amish Country is complete without a visit to Heini's Cheese Chalet. There are free samples galore of the best cheeses...that was pretty much lunch. We bought some of the discounted ends, and of course went across the hall for some fudge. Yum. Kauffman's Bakery is across the road with even more samples. Muesli bread, cream cheese brownies, pretzel donuts...it's all there waiting to be tried. And we tried them all. Some twice. Hey, there was no sign warding off greedy vultures at this place, so yeah, we double-dipped. And so, we had a lovely day in the country, seeing new sights (Jill, stop staring at the Amish people!) and tasting delicious food. Not everyone was impressed, however. Andrew has declared that he will never go back there again. Too much sacrifice (two hour car ride) without much reward (goats? puppies? cheese? who cares!) for this 6 year old. He much prefers the instant gratification of playing baseball with his dad. But he sure did enjoy the fudge we had for dessert yesterday!

The Next Vice Presidential Candidate Is....

.....NOT going to be me. I'll admit--last Friday I was a bit inspired by a small-town woman with five children standing before the nation accepting her place in history. It made it seem like anyone could work their way from the PTA to city council to state government and even higher by just trying to do what's right. Why not me?

Because I can't get past the PTA. I have become more involved in that microcosm of American bureaucracy this year, and I have quickly confirmed that I will never be moving any further into the political arena. Yesterday, in trying to fulfill the simplest of committee chair duties, I had to jump through more hoops than a circus poodle. Our newly-hired principal must be intoxicated with her newly-found executive power as she is creating so much red tape and new protocols for us to wade through. I am not trying to make this overly political, but you may be able to guess my leanings...I am not one for big government, even on the elementary school level.

And so, even though I think I secured all of five votes around the dinner table for my city council campaign, my public service begins and ends with the PTA. I am happy to let others navigate the governmental waters. And maybe, just maybe, this time I'll get to vote for someone who will do it like I would.

Breaking Dawn

Or should I say breaking my kneecaps before dawn. With the advent of the new school year, Melissa and I have had to move our run time up to 6:00 am. This means we are out before the sun comes up. This means we are jogging along uneven sidewalks in the dark. This means it was only a matter of time before one of us biffed it big time. This morning, it was my turn. I started the season off right with a very graceful trip, fall, and roll to the tree lawn. My knee-jerk reaction (pun intended) was to melt into a puddle of tears. And since we were less than a mile into our run, it would have been very easy to just turn around and go home. But I didn't want my alarm to have gone off in vain, so we walked a bit, I wiped up the trail of blood trickling down my leg, and then ran the rest of our route.

I'm no worse for the wear, just a bit sore. But it is hard to tell if that is from falling this morning, my {strenuous} Tuesday/Thursday body sculpting class, or just the general aches and pains of old age. Whatever the case may be, a war wound like this was the draw in getting Andrew out of bed this morning. So worth it.

It's Great to be Eight!

Our little Brookie turned eight yesterday! She was very excited that her birthday was actually ON Labor Day this year...and whenever she saw anything having to do with Labor Day (like a car dealership sales event, say) she would declare that they were talking about her.

We had a family dinner at our house on Sunday. Brooke asked for her standard homemade macaroni and cheese and breadsticks meal. She had a little trouble deciding what kind of cake to have, until we found a mac 'n' cheese cake online. We had to do it!

She was excited to try her skills on her Hannah Montana dance mat, listen to her Camp Rock CD on her new boom box, and read her new set of scriptures (she's trying to finish the Book of Mormon by December!).

Yesterday, Brooke's actual birthday, Brooke started off by painting her own toenails. We headed downtown to the airshow that afternoon. We saw some cool stuff...

and Brooke and Andrew spent most of their time like this....

when the airplanes flew over head.

Emma and Leah spent their time chill-axing and goofing off...

It was dinner time when we left, so we headed over to Chik-Fil-A for some free grub. They were having a football kickoff promotion where you could get free 3 piece chicken tenders if you wore any type of football paraphenalia. So I in my BYU shirt and the rest in their Ohio State garb had high hope of getting free food. There were some nay-sayers, some doubters, who said the line would be out the door and around the corner, that we wouldn't even be able to get close to the place, but in fact we walked right in, placed our order (only the free stuff, please--times six!), and THEN waited for fresh chicken strips right out of the fryer. Yum yum--what could be better than a little box full of hot, greasy chicken (which, by the way is only 5 WW points, so I chowed down with the rest of them!)

It's not over yet...Aunt Jill comes tomorrow and the real party begins! Plus Brooke asked me this afternoon if she could take a treat in for her class. I am for sure celebrating that task.....