The Trifecta weekend

I'm currently on a plane somewhere over one of the western states on the business portion of my business/personal trip this weekend. The personal part is over, and it was a great weekend - I hit the trifecta with my trip home!

Saturday: midnight yell and A&M vs. Auburn in my first game at Kyle Field in twelve years. 

Sunday: Mom's birthday. 

Sunday afternoon: my niece Claire's dedication at church. 

 All for the low low price of free. 

Why free? Because of our sweet work policy allowing us to tack on personal travel to business travel. I have a conference in Los Angeles Monday through Wednesday, a plane ticket for which the company would've paid about $900. XNA is repeatedly on the top five most expensive airports list, so you aren't getting anywhere much cheaper than that. Without a Saturday night stay, that is. 

Sometimes, things just fall into place. 

Tack on a side trip to Houston over the weekend, and suddenly the plane ticket drops to $670. Company charges you the difference on business/personal, but when it's cheaper, we all win. Boom. See? Just fell into place. Thank you, Uncle Procter and Uncle Gamble!

I got in Friday afternoon and had a couple of hours at home before we headed up to College Station. It's such a novel thing to see my family twice in a month. I honestly can't remember the last time I've seen them this much (yet another great thing about living in northwest Arkansas) so it wasn't nearly the giddy reunion it has been for so many years when I showed up. Well, except for the dogs. Roy's dog Rowdy is a total spaz, so that was quite a reunion. 

Relaxed, watched a little tv, then off to Midnight Yell, Aggieland style. Unlike the away game, this was full blown Friday night Yell Practice - the band, the Corps, the dates, KYLE FIELD. With the celebrity in the family, we got to march in with them. Pretty great stuff. I don't think it will ever get old, seeing my brother the Yell Leader.

                   

There were plenty of Aggies there to get ready to BTHO Auburn. Including the President of A&M, humping it like any good Ag right in front of me. 

With Dr. Loftin before marching in

Next day was game day, and it dawned bright and spectacularly beautiful. I hit the Aggie bookstore for some souvenirs for the kids, Brazos Running Company in search of some new maroon and white running gear, and then it was time to get over to campus for the pregame festivities. 

Tailgating!!

Kyle Field!!

Watching warmups and the march in on the field!!

Me and Johnny Football - we're practically buddies

Wait, whaaaaat???

Lambo, the kicker - dude is HUGE

Coach Sumlin

Me and the BMOCs - Ryan, the head Yell Leader, and the Corps Commander

Somehow, some of my brother's famous luck rubbed off on me. My mom and I headed to the stadium early, but our tickets weren't together so we parted ways and I followed the signs to section 145. At least, I thought I was following the signs. Next thing I know I'm heading down a ramp with a bunch of people much more dressed up than I, walking on the track, and looking around for my entrance to the bleachers. 

And then I thought - well, why not? I hang out trying to decide if I should blend into the background or just act like I belonged there. My indecision only lasted for a few minutes, though, because here came the Yell Leaders... and with that, my implicit permission to be on the field. See? Fell into place. 

What a thrill to be up close and personal to the players and the Corps march on! Added bonus: last weekend was the Rally to the Guidons, where former Corps members come back and march in with their units, my dad included! 

Parsons Mounted Cavalry, each Corps outfit, Miss Reveille, the Fightin' Texas Aggie Band: all contributing to the college football tradition that is Aggieland. 

Miss Reveille

Almost time for kickoff; national anthem and Texas Our Texas. That's right. Aggies sing the state song before games, too. God, I love Texas. 

NOW it was time for kickoff - so I hopped the wall to my front row seat that cost me... $0. Roy's comp ticket for being a Yell Leader. See again? Fell into place. Most excellent pictures all game long. 

Leading the Aggie War Hymn

The Fightin' Texas Aggie Band - the Pulse of Aggieland

The game was a nail biter, much closer than we would've liked, and unfortunately the Aggies ran out of time. Win or lose, it was a chance of a lifetime for me to be that close to the action, hang out with my brother on a beautiful day, and be a part of it all. 

After the game

Sunday was a lot more low key - I baked Mom's birthday cake in the morning, then headed down to Houston's First Baptist Church in the afternoon to join Susannah and Justin (yes, my brother in law's name is also Justin, and yes, it's confusing) at Claire's dedication. 

Oooooooohhh, I love me some sweet baby Claire!!!

So sweeeeeeet!!

Monday morning inevitably came, and that brings us full circle to me on a plane, flying over the Rockies  hurtling toward sunny California. I look forward to making the most of these two and a half days, too. Now that I'm back to running, I may get to see a little bit of L.A. in my favorite way - going about 7 mph on the Saucony express. 

I hit the trifecta last weekend, but once I roll this whole week up, I may be saying: JACKPOT!!

There's a spirit can ne'er be told

Hullabaloo, caneck, caneck!

Aggie traditions run deep, and the Aggie spirit runs deep in my family. My dad, sister and brother are all Aggies, and I could sing the Aggie War Hymn at the age of three. I was a proud member of a different Corps of Cadets, but my love for all things A&M isn't diminished by the fact that I'm not a graduate.

This past weekend, the Aggies played the University of Arkansas here in Fayetteville. The game has been circled on my calendar since the football schedule was announced, and I had hoped that my parents might make the trip up for the game, too.

Then, this past spring, my brother was elected an Aggie Yell Leader. Not cheerleader, you see - Yell Leader. I mentioned Aggie traditions run deep - and Aggie traditions are unique. As a University with a military, all-male heritage, they don't have things like cheers or fight songs. No, those are for regular, run of the mill institutions. At Texas A&M, they have yells. And a war hymn. Because, by God, A&M is Old Army.

Once he was elected as one of only five Yell Leaders, the game took on even more significance for me. The guys on the field in white are one of the enduring memories I have of watching A&M football all the way back to my first glimpse of the Aggie team on TV. For my brother to be one of those... well, it's basically having a celebrity in the family.

With my brother coming up as part of the pageantry of the game, my parents, sister-in-law and niece made the 9 hour drive to be there, too. And what a weekend we had.

Friday night, Roy and his fellow Yell Leaders came over for dinner. Caroline was a little bit star struck - she had a plan to get a picture of her with all of the Yells, get their autographs, and take it in to school to show everyone. Probably less impressive in a classroom full of kids raised on calling the Hogs, but I love her moxie to bring it in, anyway.

So the guys came over with their advisor for a big ol' cookout, courtesy of my husband who happens to be one of the great house-party-throwers of all time.

Burgers; hot dogs; brats; ribs; potato salad; pasta salad; watermelon; chips; dessert... throw in conversation with some of the nicest young men I've met since I was a college kid myself, and it was a great night. We talked football, watched a little bit of football, and of course, took pictures.

They headed out for another get together, and we got the kids down - for a nap. Because Friday night before a football game means Midnight Yell. And if you haven't been to Midnight Yell Practice... well, then you're missing out on one of the great Aggie football traditions.

Even with away games, Aggies get together at midnight before a football game and literally practice the yells. There is also some story telling; some poking fun at the other team; and in this case, some heckling from Razorbacks who showed up. By the end, even John had figured out how to hump it - and his favorite yell, of course, was: "BEAT THE HELL OUTTA ARKANSAS!" I'm conflicted about how proud I am.

We get to Saturday night, and it's time for the game - after a torrential, driving rain in the afternoon - but thankfully, most of it had moved out during the day. Mom and Caroline decided to stay home, but me, my dad, my sister-in-law, my niece, Justin and John all headed over to campus.

Roy had hooked us up with player tickets, and we were six rows off the field. Reynolds Stadium was rocking, and the Yell Leaders had the Aggie section fired up.

John's first football game, and I love that it was to see the Ags. Score was a little closer than I would've liked, but a win's a win - and seeing Johnny Football is one of things I'll be able to talk about when I'm old (okay, oldER - I get it).

Being at Midnight Yell and then the game reminded me of the love Aggies have for their school. Here we were, probably 600 miles away from College Station, at midnight in the parking lot of a high school in Springdale, Arkansas, and there were hundreds of Aggies of all ages there to practice yelling for their team. Not a football player in sight - this was about the spirit of Aggies, the love of tradition, the love of their school, and their love of other Aggies. Then in Razorback Stadium, with on and off rain (mostly on through the entire third quarter), outnumbered and outyelled by Hog fans, no Fightin' Texas Aggie Band, and still the Aggies were heard. The Yell Leaders gave us the signs, we passed them back, and we yelled ourselves hoarse. Because that's what the 12th Man does. No band, no problem - between the 3rd and 4th quarters, we still sang the War Hymn. Because that's what the 12th Man does. That is the Spirit of Aggieland.

So many great things about the weekend - seeing family, seeing my brother on the field, being in the middle of the 12th Man while the Aggies beat the hell outta Arkansas. My son is now determined to follow in his uncle's footsteps, which of course thrills me as I'm constantly trying to make sure my kids know they're at least honorary Texans. Maybe someday they'll be more than honorary - maybe someday they'll be Texas Aggies.

Gig 'em.

Moooooooooooom I'm Huuuuuuuuungry

I choose to believe that even gourmet chefs, cookbook authors, and culinary creative geniuses despise this question as much as I do: "Mom, what's for dinner?"

For crying out loud, I have no idea. I just walked in the door. I barely had time to put my purse and lunch bag down before the bottomless pit accosted me with the question. I know I'm lucky that many - make that, most - nights, dinner is not on me. My husband plans and prepares dinner most nights, and when I'm able, I pitch in. (In truth, half the time, the bottomless pit doesn't ask what's for dinner, he asks if he can borrow my iPad so he can play Angry Birds. That question is only slightly less irritating than the dinner question.)

Back to Tuesday nights - recently, Justin gets a respite from the evening routine, heading out the door a little before 6 to lead a book study at church, so I'm on the hook for preventing the starvation of the two midgets under my roof.

Believe it or not, this is one area I have demonstrated a pretty consistent ability to plan ahead. Growing up, my mom kept a calendar that had one sole purpose - to list what was for dinner, all done on Sunday night, and laid out for the week ahead so that whomever was responsible for cooking (read: Amanda) wouldn't have to do too much thinking. As a piano teacher whose hours started at 3:30, frequently went until 9:30, and only included a half hour dinner break at 6:30 (reliably, every night - we were the regular Cleaver family with all of us around the table from 6:30 to 7:00 every evening), my mom had to be organized or face the wrath and wailing of three midgeroos, insisting that they were near starvation. I managed to inherit some of that organization, and in general, we successfully plan our dinners at least a couple of days ahead of time, if not a week.

So this morning as I'm heading out the door, Justin and I agree that leftover breakfast pizza (my recipe of the week, which was a hit on Sunday morning, might I add) would be the easiest answer for dinner. All I had to do was heat it up, and we'd be golden. Almost no dishes, balanced meal, happy kids. Done and done.

Except for the part where the only pieces of breakfast pizza that are left from Sunday morning are covered in broccoli and tomatoes.

"Red leader to Rebel Base, we have what looks like an enemy formation ahead. It seems to resemble broccoli and tomatoes. Abort attack, over."

Uuuugggghhhhhh.... back to the, "What's for dinner?"

The interrogation begins. What did you have for lunch? Answer: fish sticks. One of the three major food groups is out.

That leaves chicken nuggets and PB&J. (God forbid I should say peanut butter and jelly - in our house, the J is a firm JAM, please. No jelly.) Seriously? This is what I've been reduced to? How did I become that mom? I think it was a slow slide, but a precipitous fall on a night like tonight - because I'm tired from a long day at work, I had it in my head that dinner was basically no work, and I don't want to think about the aftermath of dishes from cooking anything that takes more than a piece of aluminum foil in the toaster oven.

I try one more time to entice the little person with the breakfast pizza, to no avail. He asks, "what about leftovers?" Since leftovers consists mostly of a rice and vegetable dish or pizza (my kids are sick of it, what does that tell you), I got the request for another favorite - breakfast for dinner. Which sounds so simple, but honestly, it makes a huge mess. Until... I've got it. Eggos.

Yep. My kids are having frozen waffles and french fries for dinner, with fresh peaches and blueberries on the side. 

Considering that my little brother spent his third year of life eating almost nothing other than applesauce, vienna sausages and Coca Cola, I think it'll be okay. I mean, 30 years later, I'd say he looks pretty good.