A picture paints 1,000 words...

...or so they say.

Generally, I prefer words over pictures.

Not today.

Eli and Amanda's engagement photos came back, and well, they most definitely speak for themselves. So I'll be quiet (fairly untypical of me) and let you see for yourselves:

No words needed.

I sometimes cook separate meals for my kids. So sue me.

I just read an article entitled “Five things I will never again do for my kids.” This author mom was reflecting back to past parenting “mistakes,” and vowing never to repeat them. As I read the article, it became clear that while none of the things she discussed was an absolute deal breaker for me one way or the other, I most definitely did (and still do) some of the things she mentioned. And I have no regrets.

This mom said she would never again cook different meals for her children just to satisfy the picky eaters in her home. I do this all the time, and I won't apologize. No, I don't prepare elaborate, gourmet meals for anyone (I'm a terrible cook!), but I do consider my kids' individual tastes, and if one of them doesn't like what I'm making, I'm happy to make him a quick, easy substitute, perhaps a peanut butter sandwich or scrambled eggs. I don't think this practice has turned my kids into spoiled, entitled creatures who won't eat anything. Not at all.

She also said she would never again clean her kids' rooms or do their laundry (once they were old enough to do these things themselves). Hmmm. Well, I think it's great to teach kids age-appropriate independence by letting them assume responsibility for their rooms and laundry.

That said, many times my teens have been swamped with homework, part time jobs, and extracurricular activities, so to help them out, I've done a thorough sweep of their rooms, vacuumed, and done a couple loads of their laundry. I remember one time after I did this, my teenage daughter arrived home exhausted from a 15-hour day: “Mom, you have no idea how much I appreciate this. It just helps me out so much this week. Thanks.” You're welcome. To me, part of being a mom means serving.

Lastly, she said she'd never again bail her kids out of a jam, for example rushing to school with an assignment they forgot on the kitchen counter. Really? Because I kinda want my kids to know that being part of a family means we support each other, that we are all in this together. And I can point out a number of times when Gerald has rescued me by bringing me something I needed, even when doing so inconvenienced him. If he'll do this for me, why wouldn't I do it for my kids?

I'm all for teaching responsibility, but I honestly believe we can do that and still serve our kids, help them out when they need it, and yes, even cook them a special meal here and there.

Tiny Veins and "Can we get a pizza baked in a super hot oven?"

Eli's wedding is fast approaching in just a few weeks. If I were Amanda, I would be able to tell you the exact number of days, but I think it's around eight weeks from now. She and her mom are likely up to their eyeballs in planning at this point; Eli and I, on the other hand, are pretty chill. We have done a couple things. Best of all, Eli selected his wedding suit! We weren't even suit shopping. I was trying on dresses, just to get an idea what I'd like to wear myself, so Eli meandered over to the men's department of the store. He returned to tell me he found an excellent sale on suits and there was one he really liked.

"Let's go try it on, " I suggested, not imagining in a million years it would be the exact cut and size and color he wanted. But it was. Really, it looked just gorgeous on him.

"Should we buy it?" I asked.

"I can't imagine anything I would like better," was his reply, so we bought it right then. Yay!

We haven't been out looking for ties for the groomsmen  yet, but that is our next goal.

Meanwhile (and on an entire different topic), I've been thinking about donating plasma. I didn't realize the critical need for plasma, but I recently learned that if a person donated twice weekly for an entire year, he still would not have donated enough to meet the needs of a hemophiliac for that same time period. The process takes a bit longer than donating whole blood (which I've done many times), so they offer compensation for donors' time. So I thought this would be a great idea right now: help meet an important need, and bring in a bit of extra money to help with wedding expenses.

Today was the day. I entered the plasma donation center and went through the "first time donor" orientation and physical. Unfortunately, when the time came to actually make the donation, the phlebotomist was unable to access one of my very tiny, uncooperative veins. I've had this problem before when donating whole blood, but this time, he gave up without trying very hard. I was not impressed. Yes, I do sort of need a "vein whisperer," but this guy honestly didn't even try. They paid me anyway (woo!) and told me to return within seven days to try again. Okay, fine.

The other thing Eli and I are doing that would count as wedding prep is sticking strictly to our low-fat, low calorie eating program. All that is super good for us and has excellent results, but let's get real: It's certainly no fun! Yesterday he came down and met me for lunch between my classes, and we went to Wing Nutz. I was telling Eli about how this particular restaurant has the hot, hot ovens, which is why they can make wings and chips (pretend french fires) without grease, and they still taste good.

So last night he and I were trying to figure out what to eat for dinner. As is often the case, nothing low fat sounded very good. We were both sort of whining about that, when Eli said: "Can we go get a pizza baked in a super hot oven?"

Haha, I wish.

First annual Erichsen-Webster Super Bowl Extravaganza: Coolest Party Ever!

Let me begin by saying that anyone who know us well also knows that we are not a sports family. Not at all. I watch sports only if one of my kids is playing, and then only when he's actually in the game. Many times, while grading papers, I've said to Gerald, "Tell me when he's in. I don't have time to watch other people's kids play sports today." Oh, and I should add that I also used to watch when Shulamith was a high school cheerleader, every game she cheered at. And every time, I secretly wished they would switch it up and put the cheerleaders out on the field or court with the players on the sidelines. They never did.

Then there's Gerald. I've often said that I'm grateful to have married the one man on the planet even less interested in sports than I am. So you can imagine how excited we are NOT about the Super Bowl. Most years, we don't even know it's happening until we hear about it at church. And who's playing? Not a clue.

But then last year, this happened. Shulamith's husband, Mathew, commented to Shulamith: "As much as you and your mom will find any excuse to make a  ton of food, it's surprising you don't have a Super Bowl party."

And in that moment, we experienced what can only be called a true epiphany. Matt was so right. What the heck were we thinking all those years, letting a perfectly good food holiday pass us by? So right then and there, we began to plan this party. That was nearly a year ago.

Today was the day. We planned the menu: chocolate fondue with coconut marshmallows, bananas, fudge brownies, and Nilla Wafers; chips and dip; and plenty of Diet Coke. What we couldn't figure out was what to eat for, you know, actual food. Protein. Eli to the rescue: "You gotta have nachos. Every Super Bowl party has nachos." Score! We bought chips, hamburger, cheese, sour cream, and stuff for Matt to make guacamole. In case all this wasn't enough, we threw in some double-stuffed Oreos and a can of peanuts, and it was game on!

But did we watch it, you might ask. Well, sort of. Parts of it. Eli watched more carefully than anyone else. I tried to watch a little. Truth be told, I don't really get football. To me, it just looks like a bunch of guys who line up, run into each other, and fall down. Then they get up and wander aimlessly around the field for a bit before doing it all over again. I rarely see a ball. That said, I know many like it, so no judgment here.

Didn't watch, but ate some food!

The Super Bowl is, indeed, a wonderful excuse for a food party, and I can't believe it's taken us this long, and Mathew, to figure that out.

This is definitely a new Erichsen-Webster tradition.