Hackberry Drive

Hackberry Drive was a terrific address to be a child. A large corner lot in the Valley View subdivision was the backdrop for a fair amount of trouble making. A yard that could have technically been called an orchard provided ample hide outs, sustenance for hungry bellies and proper ammunition (rotten fruit). The willow tree's branches helped Josh and I connect with our inner-Tarzan and always seemed to hold us, even into the late 80's. Our yard played host to endless summers that felt wonderfully unstructured. Honeysuckle, grape vines and roses...I remember those bees! Nightly I would be lulled to sleep by crickets and the sounds of distant traffic on Route 53. Late evening entertainment was found just outside my bedroom window. Long-haired men and women with hair teased to the heavens would empty out of monster trucks onto my neighbor's driveway for impromptu partying. Come winter, the slope of our drive-way provided a perfect luge for cardboard box sledding. At this address I was a proud member of Brownie Troop 885. I sold cookies to kind people in cookie cutter homes. Big Wheels and banana seat bikes were the preferred mode of transportation. The soundtrack of my childhood was heard through our record player and as we grew older, mix-tapes. Broadway musicals and the melodic genius of Strawberry Shortcake gave us plenty to dance to. Later it was Ah-Ha, Tears for Fears and Technotronic. This address was also home to winters of severely chapped hands and lips, scarlet fever, heartbreaks and too many good-byes. But through the ups and downs of childhood and beyond, this home has always been there for me. The porch light has always be on, my mom will always be waving in the picture window. Ella, here is a brief snapshot into my childhood. I hope you know the porch light will always be on for you too. Wishing you have special memories like mine from your childhood home.

Another Couple Makes It!

Steve and Steph,
Congrats on your first year as parents!

King of Pop

It's taken over thirty-six hours and a day of tribute on the local radio station for me to realize that the King of Pop is gone forever. Regardless of what you may think about his recent and not so recent escapades and need for years of therapy; this person had tremendous talent, a generous heart and in one album cover (Thriller), had a six-year-old Sarah wanting to marry him. Michael, what could have been! You, me, Blanket and Bubbles living amongst hyperbaric chambers in your Neverland Ranch. Sigh.

Technophobe

Thank goodness we don't give birth to teenagers. Thank goodness we have years to prepare. Thank goodness we don't need to have all of the answers right now. In all reality, my job as a parent should be quite easy right now. Yeah, I may moan and groan about the lack of adult social life or the fact that my clothing is embellished with the meal du jour. I may worry about Ella's latest proposed food allergy or tussle at the playground. But we've not yet wrestled with the biggies, Not Even Close Bud. Even curfew and dating seem like child's play when compared to the emerging technologies available to youth...a.k.a. our Ella. Words like cell phones, internet and digital cameras send shivers down my spine when put in context with a teenager. Technology has certainly changed the game. I am only now figuring out how to text! I'm well aware that the techno-waters are rising and my ability to dog paddle will only last so long. World Wide Web of Anxiety. Do I hear a YIKES?
So here's the plan as I see it:
1. We know that Tito Jon will find a way to keep those technology monsters at bay. Tito Jon...you're our only hope (new you'd love that Star Wars analogy).
2. We know that there will be empathic ears, a level-headed understanding and calm resolve that could only come from Uncle Josh (darn why did he get all those genes?).
3. We know that Jerry and I are helping Ella build a foundation of trust, confidence and self-respect together. In other words, we have years to brainwash her.
4. We also know that at the end of the day we can only try our best (which we are) and pray (which we do).

Please let me know if I'm forgetting something.

Facebook

What's not to love about Facebook? Access to hundreds of people you have lost contact with. Memories from junior high just waiting to be unearthed. Photos that are shared with your entire FB community without your permission. Photos that you can't believe someone took the time to scan. Photos that will erase any notion of running for public office (thank you Brandon Bernstein). Hours of fun waiting to be had checking in on frenemies and their cohorts.
I've stopped Facebook cold turkey. I saw the path I was headed down and I was scared straight. No twelve steps for me. I just couldn't bear the thought of shouldering a networking addiction with the dust bunnies and mountains of laundry staring me head-on. So instead, I'll blog.

Great Grandpa Karela

It's been well over twenty years since I last ate kohlrabi. This exotic looking veggie was commonplace in my Grandpa and Grandma Karela's backyard. I remember sitting on the back porch as Grandpa would cut off a slice of this German radish-cabbage crossbreed. Couldn't pass it up this weekend at the farmer's market. But now that it sits on my counter, I'm not quite sure what to do with it. I googled and yahooed this vegetable, desperate to find a recipe that seemed courageous enough to take on this little sputnik. Decided to pass on the kohlrabi empanadas and go the old fashioned route...eat it raw.

Encouragement

Testing the Waters

Shorty Got Lolo

Whenever Ella and her Lolo together, I can't help but think of the Perry Como song:
Me and my shadow,
Strolling down the avenue...
Not sure who is the shadow, because they both have such sunny dispositions when they are together. Today we celebrated Lolo for Father's Day. He has thirty-six years experience as a parent. Father of three boys, an inventor, a tool and die maker, a world-traveler, a gardener, a man with an exciting past in the Philippines.
I now watch as he patiently peels grapes for his granddaughter's consumption. He had plans of a backyard tree-house long before Ella could walk. He has fallen so easily into the role of doting grandfather. Thank you Lolo/Tatang/Dad for all of the ice cream cones, love and support.

Thought You Should Know

Jer,
This year, you are celebrating your second father's day as Ella's dad. And, although she has not developed much of a vocabulary beyond "duck" and "dog", she communicates her love and appreciation for you via smiles, giggles and loud outbursts. I may be the one she runs to for comfort after a fall, but you, dear husband, are her best friend. Aside from all of the obviously wonderful things you do as a spouse and father of the millennium, I would like to highlight some of the more obscure gifts you bring to our lives. You are a true partner, one that relishes in the joys of others and will readily pick up the pieces after defeat. You are concerned, confident, engaged and patient...gosh you are patient. You are always game for adventure and you initiate it as well as go along for the ride. You are interesting and interested. You are the only one that knows how to simultaneously set me straight but have me laughing. You are the type of partner I want Ella to find when she grows up. My fingers are crossed for you little girl. I know I have one in a billion.
Love,
Sar
p.s. Photo above = Love through a lens.

Popsicles

A life lesson was revealed to Ella while eating a popsicle today. She watched in despair as half of her popsicle melted onto the front porch. Take away: Moments are like a popsicle, sometimes you need to seize them quick before they melt.
p.s. Thanks to Auntie Leanne, "Momma Milwaukee", for the popsicle molds. Pureed mango pops, what a treat!

she loves me...she loves me not...she loves me

Yep...more

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Elkhart Lake in Pictures

Nobody Puts Baby in a Playpen

Jerry's triathalon on Lake Elkhart brought us up interstate 94 yesterday afternoon. It was miles of Friday afternoon traffic and countless Applebees before we could really start to feel a summer weekend away set in. The turn off onto highway 57 thankfully stripped that last layer of responsibilities from us. Miles of farm land, paint-chipped barns and the open road have amazing influence. Right before supper we arrived at the Jay Lee Inn. Built in 1902, it's front porch opens right onto the finish line. It was a perfect perch to watch weary runners stumble to the finish. Props to Jerry for finishing strong. Lake Elkhart is an amalgamation of a a De Gebroeders Grimm storybook town and the backdrop from Dirty Dancing. Local bands ushered in sunset on the lake. I'm sure if we looked hard enough we could have met Johnny and Baby. Take aways from this weekend: Jerry says, "riding your bike fast is fun", Ella confirms her love of ice cream and pizza, Sarah enjoys a cellared wine and dominoes on the front porch. Not looking forward to the ride back home. Another Monday awaits. Boo.

Continuing Ed

Every once in a while I get the opportunity to play student again. Thirty hours of continuing education credits are required in order for me to maintain my social work license. Thirty hours of lectures that focus on my professional interests, do not end with an exam and sometimes offer breakfast rolls and coffee...heaven. I have found that I thoroughly enjoy the role as student and look forward to these days where I can sit, listen and learn. Today's lecture was entitled, "Play Therapy - Treatement Techniques and Strategies for Children and Adolescents". I walked away feeling like a better clinician. Although obvious, I was reminded that kids are not born knowing how to resolve problems or keep their impulses in check. Children are not hardwired with virtues such as perserverance, courage, honesty, patience and trust. We teach them through our words and actions, through books and play. We help them build on their self esteem by providing them opportunities to learn and teach others. In a nutshell it's on us.
Today, as terms like "social skills groups" and "character building sessions" are becoming common language with children's mental health providers, I can't help but wonder where it all went wrong. Should we blame the Baby Einstein movement? To me, childhood is drowning in an overscheduled world of lessons and practice. Regimens, rules and expectations do not foster creativity, spontaneity and original thinking. How do we expect kids to manage themselves when all we do is manage for them? Why do we expect children to sit quietly when idleness is akin to neglect? Children learn life's virtues through family time, imaginative play, and stories. When will being a kid take priority over flashcards? Our kids may know the difference between PC and a Mac or a jete and an arabesque...but is that really what they need to be learning?
Whoa...soap box...I'll get down.

Killer Ceviche Recipe

Easy, and as Rachel Ray would say, "Yum-o"...what?
Combine 1 pound of shrimp (cut into bite sized pieces) with 1/2 cup of lime juice. Let sit for one hour. Stir in 1/2 cup of diced red onion, 1/3 cup of cilantro, 1 cup of diced peeled cucumber, 2 tablespoons of hot sauce, 1 tablespoon of olive oil, 1/2 cup of ketchup, 1/4 cup of lime juice and salt. Eat with good, authentic tortilla chips. Don't be a sell out; nothing from the Doritos aisle. Remember evenings of ceviche and micheladas on the beach in Mexico. Realize you are in Illinois but are lovin dinner all the same.

Mammary Memories

Breast Pump, two words that send shivers down any normal mother's spine. Words when said independently don't wield nearly as much power. Until a recent conversation with a neighbor, I had not noticed that I had filed memories of pumping into the far reaches of my subconscious. Enough time has passed that I no longer hear the churning rhythms of the pump in my nightmares. It has been months that I have not compared myself to a barnyard animal. And, I have been able to drive with both hands on my steering wheel since September. Yes, for those of you that do not know, I pumped while driving for six long months. (Pashminas can only hide so much while you are stopped in traffic on Pulaski. God forbid I was pulled over. Public indecency along with reckless driving come to mind). I know motherhood automatically bonds our gender, but do we need to talk about pumping? Those of us who have been disconnected do not want to reminisce. Leave me to my hands-free delusions thank you.

Unexpected Gifts

How or why chewed up meatball made it's way down my shirt this evening, I don't know. Thanks for sharing El.

Dear Blog

Dear Blog,
I wanted to write and thank you for the encouragement you constantly provide. You motivate me to lead a more exciting and fulfilled life because frankly, who would want to read (or write) about the same drudge each and every day. Who wants to look back on their blog and see a vast open space of boredom? Years only differentiated by the more wrinkles and sensible shoes acquired. You gently force me to seek out new experiences and to examine life with a more refined microscope. I am eternally grateful.
Your Friend,
Sarah