TOUCHDOWN!

Before I begin my Superbowl blog, I have to show off Skippy's gorgeous taco dip. Mostly, I'm posting it to torture all of my cousins, who say that a family get together isn't complete until Aunt Karen (my Mom) shows up with the taco dip. Skippy has taken her famous concoction with him to Oregon and it's just as big of a hit here as it is in the Midwest. So anyway, on with my blog.


Once a year, friends come together all across the country to celebrate a day of nachos, beer, and football. And the W family is no exception.

Yet another Superbowl Sunday has come and gone.

This year, Skippy and I revived an old tradition that we began in Illinois the year we got married and we threw our first Oregon Superbowl party. I spent the week cleaning my house, Skippy prepped food, and we had a ton of fun although admittedly I've got to say...that things have changed.

Our Chicago Superbowl party had really become a beast over time - we're talking upwards of 30 people jammed into our thirteen hundred square foot house, several cases of Corona, tubs overflowing with soda, and Skippy outside freezing his buns off at the grill making burgers and brats in the subzero Chicago February temperatures. Back in those days, we were the only insane people with kids so everyone came to us - and every year the party got bigger. When we moved in 2007 just weeks before the Bears played the big game, our friends were left homeless for the big day, and sadly they had to scramble to improvise new parties of their own. We caught an incredible amount of hell from everyone for not postponing our relocation just long enough to throw one last pigskin shin dig, but some things just aren't meant to be.

I miss that party. It was always a huge pain in the ass, but so much fun to throw.

So this year we renewed our Superbowl tradition, although I'd be lying if I said that things hadn't changed significantly since our last big football bash.

This year it was a smaller affair -- we invited three of our favorite families and all of their assorted kids...that's eight adults and nine kids in a very small house. We polished up the new 52 inch TV (that Skippy swears allows us to see each individual blade of grass on the field) and laid out a huge spread that included nachos, pulled pork, dip, chips, and rice krispie treats. Soda was chilled and I had an abundance of apple juice on hand. We were set.

At the last minute one family had to pull out due to a sick kiddo, causing us all to lament the fact that our lives now tend to revolve around the level of snot output from our children, but we persevered and pushed forward and really had a great day.

It wasn't the beer infused overcrowded loud noisy insane party of the past. After all of our guests had left for the evening, I read a text message from Seth back in the windy city, which simply stated "I always miss you the most on Superbowl Sunday." And it made me yearn for home. But honestly, in a completely new and different way I had just as much fun this year as I did all of those other years just hanging out with our friends here and with their munchkins. The food was rockin', the game was entertaining, and the commercials were a crack up.

As far as parties go, it was a good day...a touchdown so to speak.