You can tell a lot about a man by what is hanging on his refrigerator. Pictures of his family, his boy he loved so dear. Reels of film shot of the moments that were an infancy, a childhood, a lifetime. Newspaper clippings of accomplishments, blown up and highlighted to show his pride in feats that are now meandering about in the past.

Snapshots taken, after hours behind the wheel with little boys who look up to and love big trucks and those who drive them. Still a smile he musters for posterity, with that twinkle in his eyes, that slightly graying moustache that used to intrigue the little ones so, when they were new to this life, this family.

Photos of the harrier members--the four-legged ones whom he loved with all his heart no matter how large or lazy or dripping with slobber, some even down-right insane. There was always a special place for those pups in his life, a special connection between man and beast.

Letters of gratitude, yellowed and crinkled around the edges, possessed enough meaning to be held dear and given a hallowed spot just where the eyes meet the paint of that old, beat up Frigidaire. Notes of thanks for a job well done give life to the easily spoken words of appreciation and gratitude.

Recipes. Yes, recipes, clinging to life underneath an old magnetic pack of Camels. Mrs. Gov. Henry Bellmon’s super-easy and delicious pe-can pie, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the orange, Jello, upside-down cake that seemed to disappear from the store once he finally mastered its baking. Long Tuesday nights of cutting and pasting made sweeter and so much easier to swallow by the concoctions he’d crafted from these carefully clipped creations.

You can tell a lot about a man by what is hanging on his refrigerator. But it doesn’t tell you everything. Some things you learn by watching him with your boys. Teaching them to make paper airplanes, or play cards or tell jokes. Always having a peppermint in one pocket and a quarter in the other. And making sure they never forget two of the greatest Yankees of all time.

I’ll miss the smiles he so easily wore when he watched the boys play ball. The way it was so effortless for him to say, “I love ya” and mean it more than those three little words could convey. The way I could always pick up the phone and tell him to turn it to channel so and so, cause Jeter’s up and the bases are loaded.

You can tell a lot about a man by what is hanging on his refrigerator. You can tell even more from what he holds dear to his heart.

I love ya, Uncle Max.

And that's All in a day's work.

Things a mother should teach her sons

When it comes to raising boys, there are some things that are just considered “man stuff“. You know, the kind of things boys learn from their dads: working on cars, saying prayers at mealtime, learning how to fry the perfect egg. Some things are just easier-and better-taught to a boy by his father.

And then, there’s everything else.

It may seem that a father would hold the upper hand when it comes to teaching his boys facts, activities, thoughts on life. After all, he’s been there himself. However, a mom has a particular advantage: the capacity to teach her sons-from a woman’s perspective-the things that are really important in life.

So for all the amazing things that a father can do and be for his boys, I’ve decided there are at least a few things a mother should teach her sons just to help make his life a little easier, in the long run.

First, the basics. I like to look at it like it’s a sport: Shoot the ball in the hoop; throw the dart at the target; pitch the ball into the zone. Pick your analogy, but whatever you do, pee in the pot.

If it takes more than five paper plates to support your meal or snack, it’s a pretty good indication that you should have used a real one.

We’ve all heard it before, and it’s as true today as when our mothers said it: “A place for everything and everything in its place.” That includes clothes of all kind: clean clothes, dirty clothes, clothes used for bases, clothes used to wipe up spills, clothes worn for less than 10 minutes and clothes you thought might be fun to try on your dog.

Other items included in this old adage: shoes. Muddy shoes may be left by the back door so as not to track up the house, but after a 24-hour period, you may consider the mud on those shoes to be what we call “dried”. They can then be banged together and put in their proper location, which is of course a little place we like to call The Closet. This is not to be confused with the middle of the hallway where a person could trip and break an ankle at 2 a.m. when she’s up getting you “a dwink of water”.

Additional note: when banging together shoes covered in dried mud, always make sure you are outside the house.

Remote controls work best when they can be located by the user. Refer to old adage.

Learn to be a morning person. It really can have a positive effect on the rest of your day.

Waking up to a pot full of coffee can go a long way to making the other half of your household smile early in the morning.

The only sounds that are permitted at the dinner table should come from the words that you speak. Since we live in America, any compliments you may choose to shower upon the chef should be in the form of the English language. No other noises are permitted.

And finally, fingernails and toenails should be clipped outdoors. There are no exceptions.

These, of course, are not the only rules for life a mother should be concerned about teaching to her boys, but you have to admit…it’s a pretty good start.

And that’s All in a day’s work!

Facebook funnies

Seems kids all over are giving their parents a laugh. From New York to Philly to South Carolina and back home again, there’s not a parent in the world who can’t relate to the embarrassing, disgusting, hilarious or simply inspiring things our children say and do every day. And now, thanks to technology and the 21st century, we can share it all, with only the click of a button.

Following are just a few of the true-to-life, real-time, Facebook funnies my friends all over the globe have shared with me.

Sigh...don't you just love it when your child runs from you, hollering, down the middle of the isle, to the front of the auditorium, during worship! All the while, you're helplessly chasing him with a baby on your hip when he starts loudly repeating what the preacher is saying. HELP! I have a preacher's kid!

Levi: Mom, why can't 11 year olds go to Pirate movies?
Me: What do you mean? What movies?
Levi: You know, just Pirate movies...why can't 11 year olds go?
Me: I have no idea what you're talking about, Levi.
Levi: (with a big toothless grin) Because they are rated ARRRGGHHHH!

Good grief. Just walked in on Jonathan standing at the toilet, tinkler in one hand, toothbrush in the other.

Dylan, my 4 year old says, "Dad where are you going?"
I say, "To the gym to exercise."
Dylan: "Why do you need to exercise, dad?"
Me: "To stay in shape, son."
Dylan: "What shape are you getting into dad, a rectangle?"

As we were driving home from the gym this morning, Beckett told me we were "chasing the sunshine". I don't think I'll ever look at driving in the sunlight the same again.

Seriously, I have just been replaced: "Mommy, you are almost as pretty as Katie." This would be the same Katie he wanted to buy a special green M&M Valentine gift for.
Wow. He's 4 and a half.

Jackson decided to learn some math this morning...by counting how many Kleenex were in the box. Now Zachary and I are cleaning up the mess...

The kids are "skiing" from one end of the house to the other. Who wants to watch the Olympics when you can be in the Olympics?

It's a beautiful sight when your 2nd grader is curled up in a chair, totally engrossed in a book.
I'm taking the highest bid for a 12 year old boy. Any takers?

So, this week from my twins I learned that hand sanitizer does not take the place of shampoo and if you paint your face with whiteout, you really have to wait at least three days before it even begins to start wearing off. Thanks, Cohen, for that little bit of education.

Beckett has just realized that "Ban-babes" are for "boo-boos".

Sometimes when moms get tired and hungry, they aren't very nice. Such moms should really remember this when their children get tired and hungry.

Nate told me today he wants me to go to college with him. I think I will check back in 14 years. I suspect he will have changed his mind.

Me and this kid were the only ones inside the Subway when I went there this morning to get cookies for breakfast. He came and stood by me and said, "You can order first—My mama says to always let ladies go first—It's my birthday—I turned 11 today—That's why I'm late for school."
Me: You've got a good mama and Happy Birthday—are you ordering anything?
Him: Nah, I'm just waiting for my bus.

Mollie is obsessed with Barney........... paybacks for years of making fun of him.

Really? Potty training my third child and I leave the house without diapers or wipes. Sorry to all the parents in the Grove Valley Elementary parking lot.

I feel like such a failure as a parent- I just realized my 7 year old doesn't know how to change a light bulb.

I ran out to start the truck this morning. I saw Biggie standing in the yard while it was pouring rain and I yelled, "Biggie (no boots on), what are doing? Get in the house baby!" He yelled, "Mom I'm tasting God’s rain in my mouth and face!"
I smiled and just let him stand there so God could enjoy him for a moment.

And that’s All in a day’s work!

All about the gold

I’ve never been a huge fan of the Winter Olympics. There’s an event or two that I might find myself watching every five years, but for the most part, I’m more of a spectator in the summer. But for the last two weeks, our boys at least, have been all about the gold.

In the beginning, I didn’t even realize they had been watching, but I guess hanging with dad was enough to get them started. Week one found them totally engrossed in the downhill skiing. I had to admit that it was pretty unbelievable how fast those athletes flew down the mountain (even if I did have trouble converting the kilometers to miles per hour).

But watching the downhill events couldn’t compare in the minds of our boys to setting their eyes on those speed skaters. Speed. They love speed. And speed plus lots of crazy flips-and quite a few crashes-made the snowboarding events seem pretty cool too. Of course regardless of the event, the question that kept coming from both boys was simple: “Did he win a gold?”

I was amused that two tough guys like ours could be so consumed with the gnarly extremes of the half pipe and the amazing flips and twists and turns of the aerial skiers, but also find themselves totally locked-in when the ice skaters, in their feathers and sequins started jumping and floating around the rink. There is little that compares to watching two rough and tumble little boys make their mark on the ice skating world from the middle of their living room carpet. Cooper’s pretty graceful, even if his routines are done in Yankee pinstripes.

Our next big event was curling. With the rules of this sport, I was no help at all, but it didn’t seem to matter to Coop. He decided he was going to create his own “curling rink” on which he and Brisco would compete for the gold. I was anxious to see just how he planned on doing this in a living room full of carpet.

After he got started, I could see he was wasn’t thinking so much about his playing surface as he was about his equipment when I saw him grab a massively oversized, 16-inch softball we happened to have lying around and a broom from behind the washer.

I think he would have made a grand attempt at pushing that “rock” down the “ice” if he had been able to find a second broom for Brisco. But out of frustration-and the fact that I caught him trying to use the wet broom from the backyard-he decided on a change of venue. Maybe we can get a gold playing hockey?

His creative juices really got going, and before I had a chance to look up, he had the couches moved against the walls in the den, two laundry baskets tipped on their sides at opposite ends of the room, and two Star Wars lightsabers drawn and ready to knock that puck-which looked strangely similar to a Nerf basketball-into the goal. And of course Brisco was following right along beside him chanting, “USA! USA!” It seems these boys have been bitten.

I had no idea when the Olympics started two weeks ago it would have such an impact on our children. And still, after watching it with them over the course of 14 days and 86 different events, I might not have truly understood its influence if I hadn’t found the proof: Pictures. Lots of pictures-of two sweaty kids holding an old summer league trophy with a couple of gold medals hanging around their necks.



Maybe for some, the Olympics is about dreams and goals and countries and accomplishments; about the thrill of seeing someone’s life-work culminate into a once in a lifetime performance; about individuals and teams coming together to compete for self and honor and national pride. Maybe this is true, for some. But at our house? It’s quite simply, all about the gold.

And that’s All in a day’s work!