October

Oh, Halloween!

We were SO looking forward to Halloween. Brice and Harry got their store-bought costumes from Target, we got them pumpkin baskets, face painting stuff, and more candy than I've ever bought in my life. We were ready.

Our good friend Dawn came to share in their first Trick or Treat.

I knew it was coming. I KNEW Harry would not take well to his new outfit. The child doesn't even like getting his diaper changed. He'll cry for half an hour when you put a coat on him. So, I knew what to expect. Harry screamed BLOODY MURDER for well over an hour. Even after we got Brice up and dressed and painted, Harry was still screaming. We trickortreated for a half hour, and still Harry screamed. Poor Seth had terrible ringing in his ears, as that is where Harry was perched.

THEN we forced Harry to get down and had Brice drag him to the door. The door opened. Candy was placed in his fat little fist. And Harry was hooked. Oh, man. He and Brice went running from house to house. Harry waved to everyone who answered the door, then ran to me (every time!) to show me what he got.

So what started out as a total train wreck (this post was almost titled, "SCREW YOU Halloween!!!) turned out to be a really fun, really special time.

My list

I've been thinking about the things that make me happy. Not soul searching, just taking notice of what makes me smile. Herewith, a small sampling:

* freshly fluffed bathmats
* when my boys play and laugh together
* a nicely made bed--mine, preferably
* a new bottle of a tasty red
* spending time with my husband
* kicking leaves on a fall walk
* talking on the phone with my mom
* the fact that my boys have all their grandparents, all healthy
* traveling to new places
* staying at hotels
* sleeping in
* the first cup of coffee
* landing in an airport in a different country
* the hotdogs at Wrigley Field
* emails from Amy
* discovering a great book
* in the same vein, the Starbridge Series
* steak
* IKEA

county fair

Brice and Harry check out the livestock.

Brice has a time out.

The boys ride the incredibly expensive rides.

Cow feed. My attempt at an artistic shot.

the 'burbs

I've been thinking about this alot. The more we settle into Wheaton and find a routine, the more i've thought about what the real differences are between suburban living and city living. Then, with prompting from Robyn, I figured I'd blog it. Just for you, Robyn!!

I can't speak for anyone else's experience, but I feel like I can breathe out here. City living, with kids, wasn't for me. I always thought i'd live in Chicago, or any city for that matter, for life. Raise my kids there, send them to school, the whole bit. It just didn't turn out that way.

When Seth and I moved back to Chicago (from Brooklyn), we fell in love with the West Loop. It reminded us of Brooklyn. It was warehousey. It had a cool vibe. And it was a 15-minute walk from the Sears Tower where Seth worked. I was 6 months pregnant when we bought it. If we had already had a kid, maybe we would've ended up in Lincoln Park (think Park Slope) or Lincoln Square. But we were thinking "cool" not "kid friendly." So we bought a second floor condo with only two bedrooms. No room to play outside. Not a lot of room to play inside, either.

Then we found out it had a leak. Then the whole building leaked. Then we were in a very long, stressful, expensive lawsuit. Then our front wall was ripped out and replaced with plastic sheeting for 5 months. All that to say, it was stressful. And I wanted out. I wanted to move to the 'burbs, where we could have a yard and a basement. And we could own a house. And if the house leaked, so be it. At least we wouldn't be part of an association and have to fix it right away.

It was also really hard for us to find community. It took a long time to settle into a church. And after we moved to the West Loop, my two closest friends moved. One moved to the 'burbs. One moved to Denver (thanks for nothing, Lindsay!!). So for me, city living meant lack of community, stressful living situation, and very limited options of things to do with the kids. Because we were in the West Loop, we weren't close to the el. So we had to walk everywhere or drive (and thus pay lots in parking everywhere we went).

And life is more expensive in the city. Impossible to buy a house. Crazy expensive preschool. Very limited options for schooling. Chicago city tax.

Then, we finished the fix on the condo and could put it up for sale. And Seth got a new job in Itasca, by O'Hare. And he worked normal hours now. Yea!! A move to the 'burbs, cutting commuting time, would give us another two hours together. So, we put it up for sale and crossed our fingers. Ten weeks later, we sold it.

Now we live in Wheaton. It's lovely. It's green. The schools are great, the parking is free, the people are nice. We love it. We love our church (it's charismatic Anglican; how cool is that? Susan Howatch would be so proud!!). We're renting and it's so great to not have to worry about anything housing-related.

So, all that to say. We are really glad we made the switch. The boys love to run around in the yard. It feels more manageable. Less stressful. And we get more time together. Maybe if we had moved to Lincoln Park, which is more family-oriented, and Seth continued to work in the city, and we hadn't had any condo issues, we'd still be in the city. There are ways to make it work; lots of families love to raise their kids in Chicago. We just weren't one of them.

"my dad dressed me"

Tonight the boys had a naked dinner (long story) so when Seth got home, he was in charge of dressing them for our post-dinner library/ice cream run. Brice came bounding down the stairs first, "mom look at my cool new shirt!" Um, it's 75 degrees outside. And he's wearing two different shades of green. It's definitely a look!

Then Harry comes down. He's wearing Brice's black T-shirt, that is still too big for Brice. And his too-small, navy sweats (!!) He could barely walk, the shirt was HUGE. I felt like sticking a sign on each of them that said, "my dad dressed me. "

Happiness

Harry's birthday. Six weeks late...

One of the best things about living in the 'burbs is the space. We threw Harry's 2nd birthday party in our backyard (something I never thought i'd be able to say!). Both sets of grandparents were there, along with friends, neighbors, and their swimsuit-clad children. Perfect. The kids played in the pool, made mudpies in the sandbox and climbed the playsets. Was there ever a better way to celebrate a 2 y/o than by making mudpies and splashing around in a pool? No.

Brice got full access to the potato chip bowl, and occasionally came up for air to eat some cake and take custody of Harry's new Yo Gabba Gabba dvd. The kids had a great time. The adults had some great drinks, and much merriment was made by all.

Happy Birthday, little Harry. We love you SO SO much.

South Beach, baby

So, Seth and I have been doing the South Beach Diet for the past few weeks. I've dieted on and off before, but never with any results. Last month I had my blood drawn and was told my cholesterol was ridiculously high. I tried to explain it was genetic, but she wasn't sympathetic. Around the same time, Seth's life insurance guy suggested he go on the SBD in order to get a better rate on life insurance. Ouch.

So, we both started this together. The first week was rough. Seth was in a rotten mood and I kept sneaking ice cream. But now it's actually working. We don't crave junk anymore. We've stopped eating "white" carbs and eat mainly veggies, lean meats, dairy, and some fruit. Even my pants are starting to hang on me. Yea for South Beach!!!

Our new digs!

Our new sandbox. I wasn't a fan at first. I hate sand. It gets everywhere. But they love it. Especially Harry. He can spend an hour filling a bucket and then dumping it out.

Our new playsets. Thank goodness for Craigslist! They like to pile on the slide and ram into each other. They are such boys!!!

Cape Cod with a white picket fence. How Americana can you get? It's perfect for us and we're so grateful to have it! (we're renting for a year; see previous post)

the dunes

Update

So, the last you heard, we were waiting for an offer on our place, a condo in downtown Chicago. I think it was the same day, definitely the same week, when we got it--an offer. Now, we had imagined that moment many times where we look at each and start laughing and doing the happy dance in our kitchen. But it didn't quite turn out that way. After we crunched some numbers and decided we could afford to sell it for the lower-than-we-wanted offer, we got the really bad news--she had an FHA loan. NOOOO!!!!!

We didn't really know why FHA was bad news, but we were about to find out. During the two months between accepting the offer and actually moving, there was no point when we could really embrace the fact that we were moving and get excited about it. Seth likened the whole experience to running through a war zone and dodging bullets. There were outstanding assessments, outstanding special assessments, lawsuits, etc. Our association was like cottage cheese. The building is solid (thanks to our rebuild), and the association was well run, but we didn't think a government agency would be able to see past all of that and actually approve our condo for the loan. But they did.

And then one hour later, three weeks before we are scheduled to move, we got sued. That's right--we got served. The Sheriff showed up at our door and served us, and our neighbors, with papers. It seems our developer never fully paid a plumbing company for all the work they had originally done on our building. The plumber had filed a lien and was now foreclosing on the lien. How did the FHA folks miss this? It seems he only sued us by name, and not PIN number, so when they ran a search, they missed it. Can you believe it?

Our attorney managed to get Chicago Title to agree to cover this lien, as we had title insurance, and the FHA lender didn't have a problem and agreed to fund the loan. So, two weeks out, we finally have assurance the sale is going to go through. But then, the next ball drops--the closing date we thought we had (6.4.10) was not possible. We needed to close on May 27. It's now May 20th. We don't have a place to live, as we were advised throughout this entire process not to put money down on anything, since we had no assurance that the sale was actually going to go through.

Seth takes a half day off work, and drives around Wheaton, Winfield, and Glen Ellyn and literally knocks on doors and calls numbers and actually found us a place to live. A real house!! That's also a long story, but suffice it to say it was a total God thing and we are very grateful.
We had 5 days to pack. I took the boys away and Seth packed for two days. Then we returned and Brice got sick. Like, pukey sick. They day before we moved, my parents took both boys and Seth and I stayed up all night packing, then moved, then unpacked in 2 days.

Whew.

quote

A child kicks its legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, Do it again; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough... It is possible that God says every morning, Do it again, to the sun; and every evening, Do it again, to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike: it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. --G. K. Chesterton

What to do, what to do...

This June marks our five year anniversary. We have been dreaming and thinking and pondering what to do to properly celebrate this momentous event. Five years and two kids, one nasty lawsuit, a leaky condo, two jobs at big law firms, and the like. So, at least to us, it's a big deal. One to be properly feted. Here's what we are thinking:

* London to visit dear friends and have a proper roasted dinner, lots of beer and curry and tea.
* Paris--we know no one and I speak just enough to humiliate us. But who doesn't love Paris??
* China/Hong Kong-- Seth grew up in China and is always itching for a visit "back home." We want to walk around, see the sights, absorb the vibe and EAT.
* NYC--we haven't been back since we moved four years ago. We want to go and visit old friends and eat (no big surprise there) at Burger Joint, have sesame ice cream in Chinatown, shaved ice in Koreatown, saganaki at Yanni's in Brooklyn, and dumplings at Wonton Garden.

The rub is that we will have precious little time. We strong-armed my parents into keeping the boys for two nights. I don't think we could do China or Singapore (oh, I didn't mention Singapore? The food...) on that time schedule. What will probably happen is that we will go to Saugatuck or perhaps, Leelanau Peninsula for a little getaway. That's ok. The big trips can wait. For now, it's just nice to be together.

Getaway

Our room at Hotel Palomar. I love the color scheme.

Don't you love the picture above the bed? Made to look like a mirror reflecting a very cool scene.

I'm pretty sure we were the first ones to stay in this room--don't you think?? I wonder if it even has batteries yet!

Relaxed and happy.

So we got away last night. Our good friend Dawn agreed to babysit overnight (!!) and we went to stay at the Hotel Palomar in Chicago. They are just opening and were running lots of specials, so we jumped at the chance to get away and treat ourselves.

Coincidentally, it was right around the corner from a restaurant we've been dying to try--XOCO. It's one of Ricky Bayless's places--street foody and casual. They only serve tortas and soups and desserts, but oh. my. goodness. It was amazing. Oh, and the churros. How I love churros! (Our churros consumption alone bumped us up to Executive Status at Costco!!) What a lovely way to spend an evening--good beer, amazing food, and churros. Oh, and no children.

Two months and counting...

Our place has now been on the market for two months. We were encouraged to put it on the market in mid-January so people could take advantage of the tax incentive that is due to run out in a month. So far, nothing.

We've had lots of open houses and showings, but not much interest. While I am thankful for the work our realtor is doing, it's a real drag. For one, your place has to be spotless. Try doing that with two kids. We had to rent a storage unit to get rid of a bunch of stuff so our place wouldn't look crowded. Then we have to haul all the toys into the storage place under our stairs every time there is a showing. The toys remaining in our place have to be picked up, neatly organized, and out of the way. "Looks bad with toys everywhere." That was a helpful piece of feedback, wouldn't you say? Plus, and here's the kicker, all the showings and open houses are in the middle of the afternoon, which means the boys don't get to nap. And y'all know how much fun little kids are when they are being dragged around and not allowed to sleep.

Here's hoping lightening strikes soon!!

Talk nice to me!!!

Brice. Oh my. That child. God has big plans for him; I'm convinced of it. I am determined to raise him right and teach him well. And apparently, Brice has the same plans for me!!

For the past six months, he has been correcting me and calling me out on any unsavory behavior. He even pauses in the middle of his tantrum, when I have raised my voice ever so slightly, to point his finger at me and proclaim, "mama, talk NICE to me!!!" All I can do is laugh. Sometimes. Other times I childishly point my finger at him and say, "no Brice, YOU talk nice to ME." We are quite a pair.

A few months ago, he started this:
He was in his highchair, throwing a tantrum. Instead of walking over and slapping him upside the head, I exhibited a tiny bit of self control and refrained. Instead, I did one of those really deep, annoying, self-righteous sighs. Over and over. Again, he paused, mid-tantrum and said, "mama, don't [really overdramatized deep, annoying, self-righteous sigh]. I cracked up. So did he. Now it's our thing. When I want to grab him by the scruff of his neck and throw him out into traffic, instead, I sigh. Deeply and loudly. Then Brice does the same. And we both laugh.

Trickle down attention span

I've never had much of an attention span. Except maybe for when I was really young. We had no computers (or any technology, really) and the amount of television and phone time we could have was severely limited. So I read. And played with my dog, listened to music, rode my bike, and hung out with my friends. I could sit for hours and read or just walk and daydream.

I can't really do that anymore. And I don't think it's just because of the kids. Although I blame them, primarily. I think partly it's lack of discipline to force myself to focus on just one thing. Too many magazines. Too much web surfing and emailing and a general lack of engagement with whatever or whomever I was actually engaging with (sorry for the poor grammar).

And of course having kids doesn't help. I'm rarely doing just one thing. Usually i'm doing several things at a time, and I hate it. I hate that feeling of never finishing anything--a task, a thought, a conversation. I often leave social situations riddled with guilt over all the conversations I couldn't finish with people. Did they think I wasn't interested in them or didn't care about what they were saying? I sincerely hope not.

I need to stop. To take more time to do nothing--constructively. To do nothing but read. Or write an actual (gasp!) letter. I don't have much alone time during a typical day. But I have some. The bills and laundry can wait (it pains me to say that). The computer can definitely wait. I need to figure out how to be present again--present to life, present to myself, and present to God.

New Year's Eve Balloons

I tried for like, twenty shots, to get a picture of them sitting with their balloons. No such luck. Here's the story:
On NYE day, I took them to the local party store to pick out their NYE balloon. Harry chose the Elmo one (what else?) Brice originally got the Big Bird one (he is so over Elmo!), but that deflated within 24 hours. So, we went back and replaced it with... a purple princess balloon. He was talking about it even when Big Bird still had some life left in him. So when I told him we were going to get a replacement balloon, he said, "I want the purple princess balloon." Now, as a mother of two boys, I hadn't even noticed the purple princess balloon. But he had. And he wanted it.
As soon as we got home, he pulled it down to our level and pointed to each princess and said, "talk to me about her." (I think he got that from preschool). So we talked about each princess and why she was special. He loves his balloon. He loves being able to identify each princess. He really likes Cruella Devil (no big surprise there), from a preview on a Disney video. Anyway, just thought i'd share. We got a real kick out of it.

Our weekend

Brice got sick on Saturday

Harry got sick on Sunday


I somehow managed to stay healthy and made my first Beef Burgundy. It was gooood.

'sup

A few folks have asked me how the napless wonder is doing lately, so I thought i'd update. He's sleeping a little better. This past week he fell asleep each day with Brice in the same room. A few times he woke up screaming and I was able to get him back to sleep in the PNP in our bathroom. A couple days he actually slept 2+ hours before waking. So, there's progress. I remain hopeful.

The really exciting news, however, isn't sleep-related. Tomorrow (Monday) we put the condo up for sale. I'm hopeful we'll sell quickly (like, in 6 months) so we can finish selling out completely and move to the suburbs. I always swore I wouldn't be that mother. We'd drive a station wagon (not a minivan). My kids would go to museums, not playgroups. They would grow up taking subways and taxis and go to urban schools, not those safe, snotty, suburban schools. But now, after several years in the city (15!) and two kids, I realize that the real snob was me. I thought everyone that moved to the 'burbs was a sell-out. Abandoning the city, abandoning the schools that needed them, etc. Now, after having taught several years on Chicago Southside, I have very complicated feelings about the urban schools and what the problems/solutions are. But I digress.

Anyhoo, we finally bought a minivan and I LOVE it. It's sportier than my Honda. The doors open by themselves. There is a DVD player (that my husband very rightly accuses me of using too much; c'est la vie!) I heart it. I really really heart it. And now I can't wait to move to the 'burbs. I want a basement; a yard; neighbors. Maybe i'm selling out? I don't know. But i'm not losing any sleep over it. Strip malls and chain restaurants--here we come!

Not Fair

I don't know what's wrong with him. First it was switching to one nap--bound to be some bumps. Then it was all four molars at once--must've hurt. Then I tried (and tried) to put them together for naps. But the child will not nap. He always screams bloody murder and sometimes falls asleep. For an hour...maybe. I've tried putting him in the bathroom, again, nothing. He just won't nap. My child went from two good naps to screaming his bloody head off and not napping AT ALL. I don't get a single break all day. My two year old is ornery and tantrum-y most of the time, and then when he goes down for his three hour nap, my 18 m/o turns ornery and tantrum-y. UGH!!!!!!! What one year old doesn't nap??? THIS SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Going on two months with maybe an hour nap. Kill me. Just kill me now.