On A Mission

We battled the 95 degree heat, side-stepped smelly puddles (obligatory at all train and eL stops) and took the late afternoon train into the loop. The plan was to meet Jerry as he was set to be released from work-detail around 5. In just ten minutes/one stop we were heaved out onto the bustling platform at Union Station. I forgot how focused commuters can be...a driven desperation to get anywhere but where they currently are. I used to be one of them. Annoyed by anyone that would dare step in my path or not keep pace. Shoving aside the elderly, infirm and tourists without guilt because what happens during rush-hour is 100% forgivable. But here I was, on the other side, as I tried to maneuver the belly, stroller and my awe-struck child, all in an equally uncooperative state. Miss. Dumpy Dumpster, in my "toddler casual" trying my best to stay astride with the "suits". But then I paused, smiled and realized I didn't have to. Mondays are my days to be the goldfish toting, banana stain wearing, "Wheels on the Bus" singing mama to almost two little girls. Today we look at buildings and clog the sidewalk as we stare at the hundreds of windows. Tomorrow I plan to make up for it. Maybe I won't let someone merge or I'll steal someones parking spot.

Happy Birthday Jer!

Hugs and Kisses on your 34th!

Happy Birthday to Us

Seeing as I can't drink, don't have much room for food, don't feel like trying to look nice and get sleepy around 9 p.m. our options for a birthday celebration were somewhat limited. I had only one idea that would meet the criteria of a cranky thirty-four year old expecting to give birth in...oh my God...7 1/2 weeks (but who's counting?). We went row-boating at Herrick Lake on a gorgeous late afternoon. Thank you handsome gondolier. Next year babe, our 35th will be off the hook.

"I Want A Horsie"

She went to "the farm" this Saturday with her dad. Uncle Rich and Aunt Leanne have five acres somewhere near the Canadian border...a.k.a. Woodstock. On their way back to civilization, I got a phone call from the car listing all of the animals they got to pet and news of a tractor ride around the property. And in that oh-so-sweet voice, I heard in the background..."I want a horsie!"...and in one brief flash I saw my girl riding her pony with the requisite sequined helmet and saddle around the prairie we were going to have to create in downtown Oak Park. Thankfully, I rejoined reality rather quickly after calculating cost of land, not to mention what we would owe for taxes! My God, kids have such a spell on their parents, don't they?
In other Ella news, she has been singing and dancing with much more focus and determination. If Jerry and I even attempt to act as back-up singers or side-show dancers we get a prompt scolding. She is obviously a one-woman show. We are instructed to sit and watch with nothing less than awe.
Is this a monster in the making? How can Jerry and I put a stop to this absolutely adorable run-away train?

Stuff I Won't Have the Guts to Say in 14 Years...

It is safe to say, we are a ways away from puberty. At this comfortable distance I'm feeling a bit brazen and am willing to commit the following to writing. Written proof that I hope won't come to bite me in the ass at a later date. Ella and Vivian, your parent's judgement will likely become increasingly clouded as you approach your teen years. After your 12th birthday you will probably start to hear inane things like, "Because we said so", "You are grounded until you graduate" and "Not under my roof". We'll stress about your future, your reputation, your wardrobe and your self esteem. But years before we enter into the vortex of adolescence I offer you the following advice...woman to women.
1. Don't lose the willful confidence of your youth. Sometimes we worry so much about other's expectations, the people pleasing, the compliance that we lose ourselves. No apologies for being a "B" on occasion.
2. Get your heart broken and break hearts. It's the best way to learn about love and relationships.
3. Study abroad as much as your college/parents/pocketbook will allow. Stay out until you see the sunrise. Drink, laugh and love (all safely and in moderation please).
4. Get a piercing, dye your hair pink...there is plenty of time for conventional. These are things I wish I did before I crossed the threshold into responsible adulthood. Please note dear girls, I am not condoning a tattoo.
5. Embrace fashion. Someday it will no longer be "age appropriate" and you will find yourself shopping the sale racks at Ann Taylor...no, I'm not bitter.
6. Chase your dreams. Change your mind. Find a new direction. Repeat.
7. Make mistakes but learn from them.
Your father and I promise to do the best we can to raise confident and loving women. We promise to try not to hold on to what we can't. Because before we know it, you'll be in the pool without the waterwings. But girls, please be easy on us...okay?

Biags in Boston

Had a great time this weekend visiting my 2 year old niece Allyn and brand new nephew, Dean. It was a whirlwind of fun, laughter and calories and now we sit in our quiet house, bags unpacked and miss them like crazy. Luckily, Boston is only two hours away. I think it may be harder getting to the Loop on a Friday during rush hour now that the Eisenhower is under construction. Seeing Jon and Jo makes me realize how much I hit the "jack pot" in regard to in-laws. We see eye to eye, we share a history and we love each others kids like no-one's business. Now if only they'd move back to Chicago! To sweeten the deal, I'd like to offer an incentive. Free baby-sitting.

Pregnancy has some advantages...

Almost makes the back aches and constipation worth it.

Ella and "The Gift"

I love how she asks for pizza at the end. No offense little Vivian.
p.s. Jerry is absolutely cringing at the octave his voice is hitting...I think it's cute. Exposing Jerry for the softie that he is.

Spoiler Alert

It's a Girl! With a huge smile on his face, a chuckle immediately rose from my husband. I could see visions of teenage drama, fights over designer denim and phone calls from potential suitors flash before his eyes. But Jerry, I promise you, you are about to become the most important person to the lives of not just one, but two little girls. Mothers serve as role models to their daughters. Our job is to guide them as they learn how to become an individual. But fathers teach their daughters how to regard themselves, what to look for in a life partner...AND how to throw a football. In exchange for the surge of estrogen that will soon invade your home, we (the girls and I) have decided to grant you the wish of a leather reclining chair. However, a built in cup holder is absolutely a deal-breaker.

The Swagger Wagon

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ql-N3F1FhW4

Mother's Day Nears

So the envelope containing our ultrasound results has remained untouched until this past Saturday. Jerry and I paid a visit to the Baby Gap to select two outfits...one for Baby Boy and one for Baby Girl. With both outfits in hand and a set of strict instructions that would make NASA's flight school seem like child's play, Jerry and I cornered the most competent looking sales associate. The conversation went as follows:
"Hi, we were hoping to get your help. We have our ultrasound results sealed in this envelope. We need you to open the envelope and package up what ever outfit corresponds to the results". She says, "What if I can't tell?". After some reassurance that she would not need to interpret the results, simply read the gender, Jerry and I tossed her some cash and left her with these final instructions:
We will be leaving, returning in fifteen minutes to collect our change and the box containing said outfit. Please reshelve the "other" outfit...and while you are at it, don't ask us any questions, don't talk, don't even look us in the eye...because if you do, we will read into every glance, every breath and know exactly what you are thinking. Thankfully, all went off without a hitch. Now we wait patiently until Saturday. Ella will open the wrapped box and reveal the secret. Let the countdown begin!

Weekend Leisure

I'm having trouble stringing together words lately, let alone sentences or thoughts. A coherent entry? The forecast isn't calling for flying pigs, is it? So in lieu of poignant thoughts...you know, the kind I'm always capable of...I will substitute with some fleeting headlines from the last week.
1. We had nothing, nothing on the calendar this weekend. It was glorious. We spent time further calculating the work that our new yard will require. Oy. For now, May, June and July or 2010 will be officially known as the "Summer of Exploration". Or in other words, no planting or weeding (aside from mint, because dammit I'm getting my mojito before this summer is out). In true scientific fashion, the garden will be given the freedom to reveal it's true self. We plan to run the lawn-mower every couple of weeks so as not to totally alienate ourselves from the new neighborhood. So far, we've heard rumors about white and red raspberries and rhubarb. We also think we've spotted grape vines.
2. With nothing, I mean nothing on the calendar this weekend, we took the opportunity to go through boxes and boxes of Ella's old baby gear. We were knee deep in cloth diapers, baby blankets and Lansinoh. For those of you not familiar with Lansinoh, you must not have had bleeding, scabbing nipples in the recent past...lucky you. We also uncovered our old "input/output" clip board from the early months of parenthood. Something that was filled out with care, precision and definite hints of OCD. If we were in our right mind, we should have dug a deep hole in our backyard and buried this thing. No doubt, it would pull a Freddy and come to us in our nightmares. It was the epitome of a new parent's neurosis. We had oodles of what seemed to be very necessary data courtesy of my excel spreadsheet loving sweetie. Words like "seedy", "tarry" and "blow out" (i.e. output) sat next to columns that outlined the number of minutes, the side and the positioning of each feed (i.e. input), followed by general mood.
I'm desperately hoping to be a different parent this time around.
Is the kiddo peeing and pooping?
Yep?
Good enough.
Should we resurrect this form of parenting again, please feel free to pour us a stiff drink and then have us committed. You will then be labeled a hero in eyes of many.
3. With nothing, I really mean nothing on the calendar this weekend we watched "Food, Inc", visited our favorite pub, Shannahans, walked around Lincoln Park and managed to make some regrettable purchases at a baby consignment sale (turquoise vinyl bean bag chair, ahem, Jerry). In addition, we went to Target, Oak Brook Mall and poached salmon. Don't you love these low-key weekends? This is what happens when Sarah has time on her hands.