Nana Feast, Tarheels, and False Peaks (Part 1)

What a whirlwind. First of all Sandy and I caravaned (is that a word? I'm thinking not) from Jacksonville to Columbia last Friday. It was a trip - especially considering the fact that all three of my children were on antibiotics and running various degrees of fevers. Awesome.

Once in Columbia we were joined by Ian who drove down from Charlotte where he had been working all week. It was great to see him and to see my parents. And it takes me about that long too. So on Saturday I went to Target with Sandy and Zoe and as I was romping through the dollar bins I got a phone call from Ian. Tori had just thrown up twice and he needed me to come home. So we did. I called the doc and we figured out that she had just puked up her motrin because she hadn't eaten much of anything that day. All became right again with the world after the vomiting incident and we were having a nice day playing outside with the kids. Then we got a phone call from my sister, Jeannie, who was in tears because her one year old son, Sam, had fallen off the wagon (literally) and cracked his head. I went over to her house and stayed with her oldest son, Watts, who was quarantined because he had 104 fever. Thankfully all was well with Sam, though when I called over to Mom's house to see how things were going with my own children I realized that, well, I just needed to be there so that my kids would make it through the evening. Not a banner night for Ian, though I have those all the time and you all know what I mean. I told him to come stay with Watts and watch basketball while I came back and took care of our own kids. I didn't want to do it, but I did. I mean one child with 104 fever is far more relaxing than taking care of three semi-healthy, hungry, sleepy girls. But I did it and it worked out for the best.

Thankfully to end up the day the Tarheels won and all was once again right with the world.

I haven't really posted much about the Tarheels and the passions they induce in my household. I didn't go to UNC, but married into the madness and was borderline maniacal when we lived in Chapel Hill. Ian, on the other hand, is seriously in a whole other category of fanhood. Being a fan doesn't even really describe it. For those of you who know my husband you know he is SUPER chill. He doesn't really talk about "feelins" a lot and believe me when I say that I have enough for the both of us. But when the Heels come on it's really just a remarkable thing to behold. I don't even know how to describe it except to say this: I know he loves me and our girls so much. I know he is passionate about being my husband and their father. But the raw emotion that comes out of that man when Roy's boys hit the court can only be described as unbridled passion. For example, one of our friends who went to Duke gave us a nice set of Duke glasses for a wedding gift knowing full well Ian would hate them or use them as spit cups if he ever took up dipping. Instead of dipping, though, Ian decided to save the glasses and then break them one by one when Carolina either lost miserably or beat the pants off the Blue Devils. One shining moment in our early married life occurred when the Tarheels lost to Duke. Ian promptly got up from the couch, grabbed a glass from the cabinet, opened the screen door onto our second story apartment porch and shattered that thing onto the pavement below. Wow.

So here we are in Durham now, visiting for the week. We got her yesterday and were able to watch the Heels win the National Championship. We were at Tillet's house, which is basically a house that is a bachelor pad/shrine to the Tarheels. I hope I'm not giving away any ancient Chinese secrets when I say that all the guys sit in the same place each game and wear the same shirts they wore when the Heels won in 2005. The funniest, and I'm sure most effective pre-game tactic though, is when all the guys head out to the garage before tip off and they lift weights...you know, just to get pumped and ready for the game. There are a few other traditions that I will keep underwraps because we don't want to give away all the secrets, but let's just say that it only fed the madness that runs rampant through my husband's blood.

Today we took the girls to the Dean Dome to welcome the team back. It was great to be there with them, though I think it will be a better memory than an actual experience.

Which leads me to the "False Peaks" portion of the post. I'll have to give you part two tomorrow because I'm really uncomfortable sitting here right now and typing. More to follow...