Rest Stop

Goodbye Chicago

Hello San Diego

The sweetest road-side strawberries.

Before Christmas I got a call from Leanne asking if I'd be interested in joining her on a mini-vaca to visit our friend Vickie in San Diego.  I surprised myself at how little I hesitated before saying "yes".   She may not know it, but Leanne has always been a force of awesome instigating in my life.  It's been a while since I've spent any significant time from the family.  My memory doesn't even seem to stretch that far.  But now that I've returned after a three night reprieve I'm feeling resolved to do this again, and soon.  I had no idea how much I needed this.  It wasn't so much the rest and relaxation, although that was nice.  It was time spent with friends, being Sarah.  Leanne and I arrived late Thursday night, delayed by the monsoon rains that swept through the Midwest.  Frankly it was a miracle that we were able to get to the airport, let alone fly.  We settled into Vickie's master bedroom late Thursday night, three friends fighting the urge to let sleep take over.  Friday morning we were greeted by eighty degree weather and sun so bright I had to shield my eyes for several minutes, even behind my Ray Bans.  It was glorious.  We ate a leisurely breakfast (salmon, poached eggs, potatoes and freshly squeezed lemonade) and went about our days without plans.  Saturday was much the same.  We hungrily talked as if starved for uninterrupted conversation.  With eight kids between the three of this, phone calls are scarce.  We happily absorbed the sun and each others company, desperate to catch up.  Leanne and I returned to Chicago yesterday.  I came home to fresh baked brownies, clean counter tops, a checked off grocery list and laundry in the drawers (lucky, lucky me).  While making dinner last night, I absently pushed veg around the saute pan and I contemplated the week ahead.  Work stuff, house stuff, kid stuff, repeat.  My mind drifted to my friends.  I thought of Leanne back at work; walking the halls of the hospital.  I imagined Vickie coaxing her four kids into their pajamas after a long day.  And I thought about how I hoped this weekend will carry me/us for a while.  At least until next time.  Jerry left before 4 a.m. this morning to catch a flight to his next meeting; somewhere I don't recall...south, I think?  The coffee maker was doing it's thing by 7:15.  By 7:30 we're preschool bound.  A new week has started.  Only this Monday, my sunburned shoulders sting under my scratchy sweater...and I smile.  On your marks, get set, resume go.          
p.s. Vickie, send me pics please!

This and That, Part II

Dear Viv,
The weather is getting warmer and I find us barreling towards your third birthday.  It's been months since we've had to buy diapers and that makes us two very proud parents.  Your days at daycare are spent in tulle and satin.  Luckily they have a pretty extensive dress-up area which you utilize to the fullest.  Every evening when I pick you up, I have to wrestle you out of an ill-fitting, green, spaghetti strap number as you howl, "two more minutes Mommy!".  You love to color and moderate conversations between two verbose unicorn figurines.  You make your sister squeal with laughter with your one and only dance move, rump shaker.  Viv, you have no problem sticking up for yourself and seem to prefer taking care of your own business.  That being said, the sight of a hairbrush will bring tears to your eyes.  What a sensitive scalp you have!  Every night, you sit contently, listening to your sister sound out words.  Viv, I am so grateful for your patience.  Not only do you know how to take the spotlight, but you share it too.  My very favorite part of the day with you is spent in the rocking chair right before bed.  You always ask your Dad or I to "rock it down" with you.  We sing, you let me breathe your hair; your brown eyes twinkling with the night light...it's absolutely perfect.  I could do this forever with you. 
Love,
Mom
       

This and That

Dear Ella,
We enrolled you in kindergarten a few weeks ago.  It felt fairly significant...at least for me.  Four proofs of address, a physical and you will be a Mann Mustang next fall.  It was a quietly momentous occasion for me.  I'm sure this day will pale in comparison to your first official day of official school but the stirrings-of-something-big-to-come have started.  Amidst tables full of staplers, copies of utility bills, harried parents and Styrofoam cups of coffee I watched you confidently talking to an administrator.  You told her you were "excited but nervous" about starting school.   Guess that makes two of us!
I'm so proud of how you've taken off with your reading.  Your Dad is especially proud of how you've learned to swing a bat and slide into bases, even on concrete.  That takes heart.  You've been so focused lately on not disappointing your Dad and I.  Just tonight, as we got home from daycare, you put on your coat and shoes and tearfully decided that you needed to find another home because you pushed your buddy Will at school.  You wondered aloud how you could be more like your friend Lauren, the one that never pushes or looses her cool.  I didn't want to tell you, but in my eyes, who you are is a gift.  I hope that fighting spirit never leaves you...we just have to find a proper channel for it my dear.   
Love,
Mom

A Trip to the Garcia Farm

With Uncle Rich

We drove out to Bull Valley over the weekend to spend some time with Jerry's cousin Rich and his family.  I was hoping a little exposure to some farm and fowl would get them excited about our family vacation this summer.  Jerry and I booked three nights at a working organic farm outside of Rockford.  We're hoping to take the girls, disconnect and learn a little something about self-sufficiency...living off the land.  For a mere $200 a night (in a tent) we get the opportunity to harvest, collect, rake, gather, clean, water and feed.  Darn, are we be swindled.  It seems that Ella will certainly pull her weight.  She had no problem gathering newly laid eggs with her Aunt Leanne (fascinating process).  Viv, however, was much more reluctant to join in on farm life.  She preferred the safety of her father's arms or the dusty embrace of the back hoe.