Broccoli and the Pink Table

Project 365 * 2 -- Day 218

     (Holding up broccoli) "Look what I have!" "Broccoli," yells Adelyn at the top of her lungs. I bought a bag of organic frozen broccoli because sometimes it's just easier than cleaning and chopping up whole heads of broccoli. Addy loves broccoli. And, as I discovered tonight, so does Tobin. He's had it before, but it's always been pulverized in the food processor. He loved eating it in its whole form tonight. And between the two of them, they finished the entire bag. Just them. It was brand new.

     This strikes me for two reasons. 1) How awesome is it that my kids absolutely love vegetables so much that they finish an entire bag of broccoli on their own. In fact, when I asked Addy what she wants to eat for her special birthday dinner, she immediately replied, "broccoli." Happy birthday, Addy...here's your plate of broccoli?!
   
     2) My grandfather, Papa, would always call me his, "bocci girl." Whenever we would sit down to dinner at the pink table, he would tell the story of how when I was little, I loved broccoli. And I would ask for more and more and more. "More bocci!" Hence the nickname. And how cool is it that all these many years later, there I was tonight, sitting at the pink table, watching my kids devour broccoli. I guess they inherited the "love of broccoli," gene from me. It certainly didn't come from Matt. They got his, "love of cookies," gene.

     Thankful for Papa, and his stories of when I was a child. Thankful that my kids love vegetables. Makes my life a whole lot easier. Thankful for sweet memories made years ago at the pink table, and sweet memories being made now at the pink table. I think that's why I love the pink table. Because it's not just a table. It's a piece of family history. And family history? That makes us who we are.

Papa and the Watermelon Dance

Project 365 * 2 -- Day 153

     The bathroom in our basement is a tricky one. Matt has tried fixing it multiple times. In fact, he's spent hours upon hours trying to fix it. The weird thing is that there really isn't anything wrong with it. It works. It flushes. But, it only flushes liquid. No paper. No solids. Because of this, I had to post a sign on the door stating that the basement bathroom was a urinal only. But, instead of writing urinal, I wrote laniru. This is why:

     We were at my grandparent's house in Florida on vacation. We were all sitting around the pink table, eating ice cream. And we were playing this game where one person would say a word, but say it backwards, and everyone else would try and guess what it was. Only one word stumped us all. Laniru. Pronounced, Lan-e-ru. No one could figure it out. It was my Papa that said it, and when he finally told us what the word was, we all laughed so hard. Laniru has remained in our vocabulary ever since.

     Writing, "Laniru," on that note for the bathroom door made me think about Papa. My favorite Papa memory is this: It must have been summer. Because there was a watermelon involved. We were all at my Aunt Trisha's house. My whole extended family on my Dad's side. Grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. It was after dinner, and there was music playing. And somehow, everyone kind of spontaneously broke out into dance. We all just sort of started dancing. And as time went on, and we kept dancing, things got more and more elaborate. We did the limbo. And we took turns dancing down the center of two lines of people dancing and clapping. Then, it got more elaborate. We started taking laps around the house. Someone would disappear into the dining room, and come out into the hallway, and then dance through the two lines of people. People started to bring things with them from the kitchen, or the living room. The person I remember most vividly was Papa. He came out with a dish towel on his head, and he was holding a watermelon. I remember his dancing face. It was serious, but silly at the same time. And when he came out holding the watermelon, everyone broke out into hysterical laughter.

      Thankful for grandparents, and uncles, and aunts, and cousins. Thankful for the word, Laniru. It always makes me laugh. Thankful for spontaneous dance parties. I think they should happen way more often. Thankful that something as commonplace as a watermelon, when used in just the right way, can induce deep gut busting laughter. Which is the most memorable of all the types of laughter. Thankful for good memories with family.

Papa

Project 365 * 2 -- Day 51

     Our dishwasher is broken. While we wait for our new one, I have to hand wash every dish, bowl, utensil, sippy cup...saying "I can't wait until we get a new dishwasher" is an understatement. While I stand at the sink washing every morning, noon, and night, I have time to think. Most of the time, I think about everything I need to get done around the house, for my babes, to make dinner. But the other night, I started thinking about my Papa. My Dad's Dad.

     He was so funny. He loved to play tricks on people. One trick he liked to play was this: we would all be eating ice cream around the pink table, and he would say to one of us kids, "what's that over there?!?" And when we would turn to look, he would take our bowl of ice cream, and hide it under the table. He would be sitting there with his most innocent face, but we knew it was him. He would also try to steal bites of our ice cream. He loved ice cream. Whenever I see a flavor like, vanilla fudge swirl, I think of him.

     He loved to swim. He used to do this thing where he would balance on top of a ball, and using his hands, paddle down the length of the pool. There were always a ton of pool floats, and fun things to play with. I'm not sure if he bought them, or if it was Mama, our Grandmother. But, I'm pretty sure it was him because Mama didn't like to swim. Even if we were visiting in the middle of Winter, Papa would have the pool all cleaned up, and ready for us. I remember reading the temperature of the water when we visiting one time in February. It was somewhere in the 60 degree range. We didn't care. We swam anyways.

     One of the things that stands out to me the most about him is this: no matter what, no matter how late it was, no matter how many people ate dinner, no matter how many plates there were...Papa always washed the dishes after dinner. Mama made the dinner. And Papa cleaned it up. We would always try to help him, and sometimes he would accept. But he would only ever let us bring the dishes from the table to the sink. He would always be the one to load them up in the dishwasher. He would be the one scrubbing every pan. I kind of felt bad for him. Watching him clean up every night after dinner. But, now as an adult, I realize, he did it because he loved Mama. And it was his way of thanking her for preparing such lovely meals night after night after night. For over 50 years. I'm not quite sure when he started cleaning up the dishes after dinner, but I remember him doing it when I was still a child.

     I'm thankful for my Papa. And all the sweet memories I have of him. But, one of my favorite memories is watching him clean up the kitchen for Mama. I've been remembering him while I clean the dishes every day. And I've been reminded by that memory that we clean up the kitchen, and do all the dishes, not because we have to, but because we want to. Because it's a small way to show someone that you love, just how deep your love goes.

     Missing Papa.

Is it me, or does Tobin look like a giant baby compared to Sophia.

Tobin waving hi.

Sophia loves her mobile.

Adelyn sleeping in her Rapunzel dress. She literally wears the Rapunzel dress every day now. Morning, noon, and night, and through the night.

Tobin sleeping in his crib. Hands behind his head...just chillin. Cracks me up that he sleeps this way every night.