Meet the Fam

I'm Mary.  And in a sad commentary on my existence, this photo, taken accidentally by my four year old son, is the best photo I've taken since my wedding day over six years ago.  Don't expect it to change too often unless Cael gets a photojournalism degree, or someone on a makeover show offers me drastic plastic surgery in exchange for chocolates.  I make good chocolates.

I'm a stay at home mommy to two crazy sons.  Growing up as one of three girls has led to a sense of bewilderment of how similar parenting is to mixed martial arts.  As the lone female in a house full of males, I consider it a victory that I haven't grown a full beard.  Yet, that is.

Meet Joel.  Joel is my husband of six years and a vocal music teacher, prompting many people I knew during childhood to joke that I married my father, who had the same profession.  That's just gross.  Joel is a guy's guy; he loves fishing, hunting and any other activity that I find disgusting or otherwise unappealing.

Despite the fact that we have very different interests, we share a love for sushi, old FRIENDS reruns, entertaining our friends and family and no-holds-barred wrestling matches with our sons on the family room floor.

Cael is our oldest son, and he is destined for fame. I'm not sure if that notoriety will come in the form of a star on the "Walk of Fame" or 10 to 20 years without the possibility of parole.  But regardless of his lifelong prospects, there is no doubting that he is exceptional.

Unfortunately, Cael has always had a knack for saying the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.  In fact, if it weren't for his extremely inquisitive and often inappropriate commentary on life, I never would have started this blog.  I'd also have fewer gray hairs and a greater will to live, but who needs those things anyway?

Pulling up the rear is Graham, the littlest Foreman.  With a much gentler nature than his older brother, Graham can most often be found, thumb in mouth, curled up with a book or wedged between the couch cushions where he was shoved as Cael attempted a quadruple gainer onto a pile of shredded newspaper and matchbox cars.

But don't let Graham fool you.  Behind those pretty blue eyes and inexplicable straight hair is a politician in the making.  The way he weasels two cookies out of me is truly appalling.  If only his other productions were so romantic.

I hope you'll enjoy getting to know us and see how life unfolds through my eyes.  And now that you're here, stick around!  We don't bite.

Most of us, that is.