The Family

Before I start posting tales of family fun and chaos, it is necessary to make some introductions!

The Pilot. The husband/dad of the family. The title sounds really nifty, and it is, but not quite as adventurous as it suggests. The Pilot builds and flies radio controlled airplanes. The little ones, not the real ones – though he wishes to learn to fly one day! Up until last night, he has been the president of a local RC club. After two years of leading a crew of over seventy other RC pilots, he stepped down in order to spend more time actually flying his planes instead of keeping tabs on the activities of the club. We have been married over 13 years and have three beautiful kiddos!

The Jedi. My nine-year-old son is obsessed with Star Wars. He also likes to draw and hopes to one day build a robot.

Mr. Happy Feet. The seven-year-old son with the sunny dispostion. He earned the nickname long before the movie of the same title was released. As a young toddler he danced in place at a rapid rate and also quickly bounced from place to place without stopping – an action we call “pin-balling”.

Miss H.M. High Maintenance. Her Majesty. Hannah Montana. At not quite six years old, my daughter is full of drama! Through the error of our ways, she often rules the roost!

I am Lissa – the one who tries to keep us all fed, safe and reasonably dressed. I thank God everyday for this blessing! I rely on Him to get me through the rough days and I am thankful to Him for the good days!

My sister (hey, Erin!) encouraged me to start a blog. There are just too many funny, wacky, touching moments that occur in raising these kiddos. And I am totally unable to remember them all!  So, I am going to attempt to do some of these events justice by recording them here!

Comfort Food

I’ve not written anything since my first post – but have been thinking about this particular topic for the past week or so. The event that brought this topic to mind was a simple gesture made by my sister. She had made a huge batch of soup and offered the remainder to our family. This was not just any soup. This was Grandpa’s Soup. Also known throughout our extended family as goulash, paprikash, The Soup. A simple recipe – chicken on the bone, potatoes, onions and Grandpa’s homegrown hot peppers - all simmered to perfection in varying amounts of paprika and cayenne pepper. Served over Kluski noodles or homemade dumplings, or both! Spicy as the cook dares to make it. Newcomers to Grandpa’s table were often provided with a box of tissues and plenty of water.  Years of spices and hot peppers from his garden had increased his tolerance.  Often the bite would reach new levels!  It was like a rite of passage for a seat at the family’s table.  And, no matter their taste preferences, each one came to love it! 

Grandpa would start cooking early in the day.  The same pot, the same wooden spoon.  The aroma of simmering onions often in the air soon after breakfast.  He would watch the pot carefully and we would all stay back – mouths watering,  anticipating the feast.  Sometimes, if I lingered long enough, he would ask me to taste the broth and let him know if it needed a little more “kick”.  I am quite certain he did not need my opinion, but was just simply entertained by watching me grimace as the first drops of spicy broth hit my throat.  I would always say “good soup, Grandpa!”  Sometimes the number of guests for the meal would increase.  Most of us in our own kitchens (in this generation of having plenty), would run to the store.  We would add more meat and potatoes to make sure there would be enough.   But not Grandpa.  Being from a generation that often didn’t have much, he would just add water in order to stretch the pot to accomodate the additional guests.  

The Soup is more than just a filling meal for me. It is a comfort food – full of warmth, memories, and connection to family. Each member of the family that makes it, does it well – though it is never quite the same as having it in Grandpa’s kitchen. Grandpa passed away in December. That kitchen is no longer in the family, but the recipe lives on into the next three generations. My sister’s offering was the first time I had eaten The Soup since then. It brought to mind memories of family and tradition. Comfort food at its best!

So, what’s with the name?

I’ve been enouraged to take a leap and post. So, here it is!

So, what’s with the name? They eat veggies! and other childhood miracles – Naming this blog was not easy! I decided to keep in mind that my kids are a big part of my life and that it is very likely that most of the fun that I post will be about them. I wanted a blog name that reflects the fun, loving, and sometimes crazy life I have with these three kiddos. My sister asked if there was anything unique to our family and I immediately thought of a recent conversation with a neighbor. She mentioned that she saw my son outside eating a carrot. My response was “oh, I try to get them to eat in the kitchen!” And my neighbor laughed because it was not the eating outside that astounded her, it was the eating a carrot! That same day my younger son asked for broccoli for supper and, again, my neighbor just shook her head in dismay! All three of my kids love raw veggies! I can’t explain it and I have no advice for moms who are up late trying to figure out how to get their kids to eat the good stuff. I just lucked out on that battle and I am not complaining! So, that miracle, along with the other fun these three kiddos bring to the table, and a blog is born!

Hello world!

Hello!  I shall be diving in very soon!