Ridiculous amounts of excitement surround bowling...especially when you have on such a killer ensemble. Thanks Aunt Judy, Amy and Wendy!

Christmas 2010

Viv,
You are teaching me to be still.
Thanks sweet baby.
Mom

Going Postal

Service with a smile is usually a rarity these days, particularly around the holidays. Eye contact, even a general look in my direction warms my soul as I bag my own groceries at the local Jewel. The post office, of all places, seems to remain the exception. This past week, I had the pleasure of visiting the US Post Office not once, but twice. I watched as the friendly men and women in blue inquired about every last detail of the upcoming holiday season with each octogenarian in line. And there must have been a special for the eighty and up crowd this week. Seriously. I overheard a discussion surrounding the merits of pineapple upside down cake that lasted nearly ten minutes. I would normally applaud such efforts because this type of exchange is what our society is so sorely lacking. But this was sinister. The line was snaking out the door and customers were dropping from heat and exhaustion. The layers upon layers of outwear stoking the fires of impatience. I swear I saw evil smirks of triumph on every mail clerks face. The post office feeds on anger. And oh were they well fed this week.

Jealous?

Don't you love our new stockings? Wish you could have ones just like these? You can...if you happen to have an amazingly talented cousin that can knit you some. Booyah! Don't we luck out?

May I introduce you to Sneezy and Stuffy (note a ring of mucous around their noses)?
Their parents, Sleepy and Stressy refused to be photographed. Where is that old witch and that magic apple when you need her?

32 Years Later

Tummy Time!

What's Up Doc?

Why am I so entirely exhausted? It certainly cannot be normal! After a check up with the doctor and a round of thorough blood tests, we determined that it's not Lupus, not an under-active thyroid and not anemia. It is certainly not due to pregnancy (sorry grandparents). Now what in the world could it be? Any ideas?

Candy Cane Lane

There are some memories from my childhood that I can't wait to resurrect. In fact, reliving some of these fond memories is one of the great perks of having kids. It is our right and duty as parents to make sure that they too enjoy week nights filled with tuna casserole and summers away at Camp Chippewa Bay. Tonight, as the cold winds blew, hot chocolate and bags of popcorn in hand, we drove to what was once known as Candy Cane Lane in Westchester. A subdivision of lawns where illuminated, plastic manger scenes, mechanical Santa-copters and grazing deer all had a place...and usually in one yard. Back in the 80s, Boeger Drive would be a parking lot as car after car would gawk at each home's representation of the season in lights. It was a regular homage to Com Ed. Today as we pulled in, I wasn't quite sure if we were in the right place. My heart sunk as I realized most homes on the block had embraced the "less is more" approach to the holidays. Where were the pink tinseled trees? Where was the life size Mr and Mrs. Claus? Where in the hell was the Santa-copter? But just as I was about to deflate completely, I hear repeated "wows" from the back seat. I realized that maybe this was Candy Cane Lane after all. Maybe I was looking at it with the eyes of an adult. And with each passing "wow", I was further transported to the back seat of my father's Volkswagen and the magic was revived. Thanks E.

Oreos and the Messiah...In one day no less!

After a visit with Santa, cookies with our friend George and an afternoon nap we decided to battle the elements in search of the baby Jesus. Since Thanksgiving, Ella talks about him almost daily. Plans were on then off (as the weather worsened) and then on again as we drove past First Baptist Church on Oak Park Avenue. A parking spot happened to open up right in front. Divine intervention anyone? With live camels, donkeys and a full cast of wise men rock star parking was nothing short of a Christmas miracle. Jerry and Vivian stayed in the car as Ella and I huddled under the large golf umbrella dodging freezing rain drops and King Herod's camel's excrement (say that five times fast). We stared in amazement as the story of Jesus's birth unfolded before our eyes. We finally arrived at the manger. It was a beautiful scene with a mixed race Mary and Joseph (epitomizes why I love Oak Park) and a live baby Jesus. Ella was speechless. Afterwards, in honor of the night's theme, we dined on hummus, baba ganoush and kabobs. Happy Birthday Baby Jesus!

Sarah: Ella, why do people love Jesus so much?
Ella: Because he loves them.
Sarah: Where was Jesus born?
Ella: In the "major"

We are so lucky to have the one and only Santa Claus make an appearance at the River Forest Library each year. No lines, no whining and no "wanna-be Santas" with criminal records fiending for the next cigarette break at the local mall. Ella had been practicing for days. "Yes", she's been good and "yes" she would like a princess for Chrismtas. She prepared a short list on Vivian's behalf ("banas" aka bananas). She'd even practiced a hearty "ho, ho, ho". Both she and Vivian readily assumed position on Santa's lap. I truly believe her expression in the photos is only an indication of the awe and amazement she felt being in the presence of such magic. Her look oozes "awe and amazement" does it not?

Ella had her first visit with the dentist today. Turns out we were two years late to the party. The American Pediatric Dental Association is recommending babies getting to know their dentist just after their first tooth erupts. Luckily, all was well. The patient was all smiles throughout the visit. She readily cooperated as Dr. Crawford assessed her bite and took a look at the general health of her teeth. She even allowed a few scary looking instruments in her mouth. At the conclusion of our appointment I was warned about the likelihood of braces due to crowding. Ella's such a lucky kid...I always wanted braces. All the cool girls had braces. After a sift through the treasure box Ella practically skipped to the car. She knew that I had to deliver on a promise of rainbow ice cream. Because where else would a concerned and enlightened parent take their child after a first visit with the dentist? Apples were out of the question.

We used to sit by the pool, read Elle magazine and worry about uneven tan lines. We ate Ben and Jerry's from the carton, threw water balloons and laughed until we cried. We wore skinny jeans together (the first time around) and ran laps in Mrs. Steven's gym class. You knew me before I was "Ella's/Viv's Mom". At times, you know me better than I know myself. Our conversations today are a far cry from the leisurely conversations that would linger into the summer evenings on college break. Words going nowhere and everywhere all at once. Full sentences...finished thoughts are now frivolity. We are left with the Cliff Notes of conversations past. But I get you. You get me. Some day, I promise, we will begin where we left off (was it July, 2005?). Today, as we were signing off and wishing each other luck as another battle...er...work week begins...I hear you exclaim, in all seriousness to your son:
"That is a lamp, not a hat!"
...and I realized that although parenthood may certainly compromise the quantity of conversations we have, the quality has been left untouched. You crack me up.
Thanks Mand.

If you don"t count the amount of carrot "noses" we happened to devour during construction or the fact that she offered to watch Daddy build the snowman from inside...I'd say it was a success!

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes