Wishful Slacker

Big girl

Ellie transitioned into the toddler room at her daycare this past week.  Next week, instead of walking through the building to the infant rooms all the way at the back, we will be dropping her off in the toddler room, right at the front.  I have so many mixed feelings about this.  She is certainly ready for the toddler room- the toys, the schedule, the fact that she no longer will be navigating her uncoordinated toddler physique around small infants cooing on the carpeted floor.  But the saddest part is the fact that her teachers, the lovely women whom we gave our child before we turned and walked away for the very first time, will no longer be her caregivers.  It is quite an adjustment for Jim and me!

These past 15 months, it has often been the unexpected that leaves me grappling with the emotions of a mother realizing that her child is growing up faster than a science experiment pea plant.  The first toddling steps were not what brought the lump to my throat, necessarily.  But that day when I went to pick Ellie up from daycare after a harried day at work, and she walked over to meet me at the door, arms outstretched, for the very first time?  Yeah, that did it.

On Thursday I emptied the basket of clothes from Ellie's infant room cubbie and when I got home that evening I spread the contents on the floor, deciding what to bring to the new toddler room the next day.  Something took me completely off guard then.  Next to the infant-size striped socks and baby legwarmers was a plastic pacifier cover.  Ellie was never really in to pacifiers, but I remember we brought one to daycare, one year ago, in hopes that it would calm her when they laid her swaddled body down to nap.  I remember bringing the pacifier home a few weeks later and assuming that we had lost the cap.  And suddenly there it was, a sucker punch instigated by a simple piece of plastic polymer on a blue living room rug.  The formal realization that my sweet little girl, the small being whose warm head I kissed as we rocked to sleep countless times in the odd hours of morning, was no longer a baby.

That's when I got the lump in my throat.

Being Proud

It stirs within us, standing on the sidelines of a muddy field while our nephew scores a goal, receiving the acceptance letter for the school we wanted, or simply realizing with a rush of melancholy that our robust child is no longer the infant we used to hold tight in our arms.

It is January, and always in January I think of our past.  I can't say that I am proud of my sister for beating cancer, because to that battle we owe our gratitude to modern medicine, to her doctors and caregivers.  But when I think of my sister then, and my sister now, and her unbelievable bravery, grace, and ferver for living life as it should be lived,  my insides swell with a love and pride that is almost too big to be digested. 

Happy anniversary, Sis xo

Zoo Fail

On a cold and windy Chicago evening in December, 2009, Jim and I met each other after work outside of the Lincoln Park Zoo.  We were going to enjoy Zoolights, that annual Christmas light spectacle that seems to get even better year after year, the zoo emblazoned in millions and millions of Christmas lights, with ice carvers, hot cocoa, and Santa.

Instead, on that night we found ourselves standing at the black iron gates which were shuttered with a metal slap of finality.  Everything was pitch black.  And cold.  Did I mention it was cold?  "Damn..." we exhaled, our breaths melting into our heavy scarves.  "It's closed."  With a disappointed shrug, we turned and slunked to a restaurant.  "Why didn't we check the website?" we asked ourselves while slurping up noodles, "it must only be opened on weekends this early in the season."

I had completely forgotten about that evening.  But I remembered tonight, as we met at the Lincoln Park Zoo and stared at the black iron bars closed upon the even darker zoo behind them. 

"Crap...." we muttered, looking guiltily at the baby, bundled up in her stroller and wearing her ladybug zoo hat. 

At least we were not the only ones.  One poor Mom, pushing a small child in a stroller and holding the hand of a very impatient-appearing preschooler, slowed to a stop next to where we were standing. 

"It's closed?!" she looked at me in desperation.  "I had to run for the bus, get them all bundled up...oh my gosh how can it be closed?"  I then witnessed her trying to tell her son that the animals had all gone to sleep early tonight.  "I BET YOU TOLD THEM TO GO TO SLEEP!"  the son started to wail. 

I am thankful at these moments that we have a child who is of the age when explaining is not necessary.  Expectations do not have to be honored, at any point if Jim or I change our minds, we simply turn the stroller around with no argument.  Last weekend we took the train down to Macys on State Street, where, after glancing at their very, very disappointing window displays (which are usually so magical- what the hell, Macys?) we ventured inside to try to find Santa.  Ellie has not been to see Santa yet, and we were hopeful that this might have been her time to meet the big guy.  After roaming the first, seventh, and fifth floors, we finally found the line- nothing was signed, no Buddy the Elf was there to add any cheer, and after watching the parents who came out after seeing Santa (most rolling their eyes, most saying that it really wasn't worth the wait), we decided to call it a day and went home. 

So, in anticipation of the day when we will have a child who pitches a fit when we decide NOT to wait in Santa's line, this year, we will try again.  We will find Santa, somewhere....somewhere small and quaint and perhaps not in a department store.  And we will probably attempt Zoolights again, (checking that they're open before leaving the house), even though by the time the next weekend opportunity rolls around it may be freezing cold with a fierce wind coming off the lake and no available parking.

But we will try, damnit. 

And if we fail...well, at least this year, we won't have to hear about it the whole way home. 

Pumpkins!

 

Growing up in Michigan, many a beautiful fall weekend involved a trip over to the nearest cider mill.  Warm donuts, the churn of loud machinery pressing hundreds of apples into sweet succulent cider, the bees languidly slurping remnants from the rusty garbage pails in the dirt parking lot.  The most exciting landmark in the area where I grew up was Yates Cider Mill, a large red barn on the Avon River which even boasts a water wheel at the entranceway.  It is 10 minutes from my parents' house, and not one fall season went by without a visit.

Yates serves as the highest standard when it comes to the quintessential cider mill experience, so I understand that I will never find any match for it here in the Chicago area.  And there are many more traditions- the charming apple orchard, the playful pumpkin patch- that complete the picture of autumn.  I was craving some fall fun outside of the city and was prepared for something different than Yates.  Upon the recommendations of friends, we set out this morning for County Line Orchard in Hobart, Indiana.

It was rainy and chilly, but we headed out early to beat the crowd (and hear me out- an overly crowded orchard/cider mill is sometimes worse than not attending one to begin with, in my opinion).  The best part was we met up with my sisters- it was a 2 hour drive for them from Kalamazoo, and a one hour drive for us.  We didn't take the hay rides out to the orchards and the true pumpkin patches, but instead milled about the entranceway with the piles of gourds and rows of mums.  We grabbed ourselves some donuts (apple cinnamon and pumpkin flavored), a bag of apples, and some popcorn to bring home, and later on ate some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in our car with the aunties before parting ways.  The place was really starting to fill up as we left, and I can only imagine how busy it gets when the weather is really nice! 

Here are our baby pumpkin pics!  Today was the first day we put Ellie in this coat that was passed down to us from our friend Christina and her girls.  The whole day I kept saying, "Oh my GOD I love that coat!  Is that not the most gorgeous coat?"  Sometimes I think this baby wears better clothes than me.

Happy FALL!  The best time of the year!

Warning- what you are about to see are numerous pictures of the same child set among pumpkins.  It may be tedious, but how do you edit down photos of a baby next to pumpkins?  It is just not possible.

Ellie, meet your great-grandpa

 

Distance

She was always here.  Not near, but here, thousands of miles away. 

She kneaded the dirt in her garden and hugged her grandson tight and felt the warmth of her evening tea through glazed ceramic.  You had just seen her, hadn't you?  At that family party, when she spent the day busy in and out of the kitchen, moving so fast you almost missed her.  But you knew she was there, because on the table where there had been a pork pie and sausages there was now a plate of cucumber sandwiches.  Later on there would be cakes and trifle, enjoyed by sticky fingers and rosy cheeks that deepened as the hours passed, all of us together.

Hadn't that just been 2 months before?  Before the phone call, those words bouncing  around the office as you stared at the blinking cursor, each word falling splat with finality after it registered through the vibrations in your ear drums and was mulled over by neurons, chewed up like cud, and swallowed in a gulp. 

So just like that, she went away.  But what difference did it make in your life anyways?  What changed in the way the alarm sounded in the early hours of morning, the sun breaking over Lake Michigan, lighting upon glassy skyscrapers and still alleyways? 

Nothing changed.  That was the beauty of the gift of distance.  You used to hate the distance, weepy goodbyes at airport security lines, the startling quiet of the drive home, the faint scent of lavender and Pears soap wafting from the guest room.  But now, the distance was welcome.  Nothing changed.  You still dragged yourself to the shower and washed the sleep from your eyes.  Cars bumped over potholes on Lakeshore Drive.  The waves chopped and pulled at the sand.  The world went on living. 

Yet sometimes, it caught you off guard.  As you stared out the window, watching the naked tree limbs reach out to an unforgiving winter sky, you heard a whisper, "She is gone."  Or when you saw her home in your mind, the vines creeping along the barn and the lovely sound of gravel underfoot as you walked up the driveway, you realized she wasn't home.  And immediately you turned your attention somewhere else, to the chopped onion or the bookcase that needed dusting.  Everything needed dusting.

A couple months ago I quietly marked the year anniversary of the last day I ever saw her, saying goodbye on that gravel driveway, watching her wave as we drove away in our rented minivan.  One year, and I still pretend she is there, making us tea from her kitchen, talking to my father as he leans through the Dutch door.  I think I will always pretend.

The Cottage

We spent last week at my parents' cottage near East Tawas, Michigan.  Their cottage is a warm and cozy home along Bass Lake, which is nestled among a cluster of lakes about a 15 minute drive inland from Tawas and Lake Huron.  The drive between Chicago and Bass Lake, after stopping to allow the baby to stretch her legs, took a lengthy 10 hours (and on the way back that kid would not nap and then threw a temper tantrum in the back seat of our car that literally lasted about 3 hours!).  We had a great time being away from the city and our busy lives, and every hour on the road took us further and further from it all.  We soaked up our time with the baby and consciously noted the hours when we normally would have been driving to work in busy, noisy Chicago.  Ellie learned what a blast it is to shove fistfuls of sand into her mouth the second her parents look away and we learned that, even during vacations, keeping a baby on a schedule is a very worthwhile endeavor.  My dad lit a bonfire during two of our evenings, and we roasted marshmallows for smores and stared at a gazillion stars that are so easily forgotten beyond city lights. 

Despite the fact that week-long getaways always pass by quickly, we still managed to get in a lot of visiting with my parents, sisters, mother-in-law, and my wonderful friend Liz, her husband, and her two babies.  Jim and I made it out to a movie at the fantastic East Tawas movie theater, which really deserves its own blog post because of its awesomeness. 

Here are some pictures from the week.  They are mostly of the baby, because, well, that's the way it goes now!





 

The pier on the "Big Lake" in East Tawas

And finally, I love the set of photos that this one came from.  To have grown up with such a kindred spirit of a friend and then suddenly to see your daughters playing side-by-side is really something else :-)


As you can see, we had a great week.  It is nice to be home, but it was wonderful to have our lovely getaway.  I forget sometimes how lucky we are to have that cottage and Bass Lake in our lives!

Sophie goes to the Kalama-ZOO

The whole family was in the Detroit area last weekend for what was just a fabulous few days.  On Monday morning as we were packing up to drive home to Chicago, my sisters left a few minutes before us to drive back to their home in Kalamazoo.  We had spoken about stopping at their place as we passed through, but thought we would just see how the drive was going as we made our trek along I-94.

After Piper and Stacie left to go home, we came downstairs and found this on the kitchen table next to our point and shoot.

So, I turned on the camera and saw THIS:

Sophie!  The baby's favorite friend!  Gone!  So...that was how we learned that we were DEFINITELY stopping in Kalamazoo!

Once we got into our car, Eleanor sent this message to the thieves:


And THEN as we were on I-96, we received this audio message on my cell phone (I had to record it with our camera to be able to post it here!).

Sophie the Giraffe has been stolen! from Lindsay Rhodes on Vimeo.

 

The situation was getting serious, and we had to move fast for Sophie's sake!

We had some renewed hope upon receiving this picture.  At least Sophie wasn't alone....

Once we arrived in Kalamazoo, we found Sophie trapped within this semi-creepy shrine (my sister is now on summer vacation, hence her imagination is completely unfettered).


OH SOPHIE, MY SOPHIE!  YOU'RE SAFE!

And in the end, the aunties got to spend a bit more time with their niece.  Well played, ladies, well played....

 

A skunk, a ladybug, and a happy baby

We went and saw Dot & Ziggy this morning (click here to see pictures on their site), a play by the Chicago Children's Theater that is currently being performed at the Biograph Theater just down the street from us on Lincoln Avenue.  We got tickets through a Plum District special- $9 instead of the regular price of $18, plus I had a $20 credit through the site, so in the end our outing cost us a lovely $7!  The play is for the target audience of 0-4 years old, and we had no idea how little Ellie would react.  Well in the end she loved it and the three of us had a great time!  The "play" takes place in a large room and families sit on pieces of carpeting while the characters move all around the carpeted pieces.  Basically, the story is about a skunk and a ladybug who become friends, but first encounter a few conflicts.  For example, they find a dandelion and both want it at the same time.  Such a problem!  Well, along comes a SPIDER who calmly reminds them that they need to SHARE!  It was really, really cute and well done.  The baby really watched a lot of it too.  When Dot the ladybug skipped by the baby held her arms out and tried to touch her pretty tutu skirt.  She bounced on Jim's lap and squealed at the toddlers who were dancing nearby.  Occasionally when the action was occurring on the other side of the room Eleanor preferred to chew her teether rather than follow the storyline, but then again she's only SIX MONTHS OLD.  I think Jim and I have so been wanting to do these types of things as a family of three (remember, we're the couple who honeymooned in Disney World and sat through a Wiggles concert even before having kids of our own), that we were freakishly looking forward to seeing Dot & Ziggy.  :-)

My parents called us using Apple's Facetime this afternoon to watch the baby.  She was just not in her happiest place (no thanks to me, who tried showing my parents how the baby could momentarily sit up, and in the act of doing so the baby dove headfirst into the laptop.  Another "Mother of the Year" trophy to add to my collection....).  I kept trying to get her to laugh for them but it was just not going to happen.  An hour later Eleanor did finally break a smile, as you can see for yourself!

Eleanor laughing 5/14/11 from Lindsay Rhodes on Vimeo.

Reclaiming Mother's Day

To all you lovely mommas out there, a very Happy Mother's Day to you!  I hope that everyone had a wonderful day.  Here in Chicago it was just gorgeous out.  The weather could not have been more perfect and I don't think I could have asked for a better "first" Mother's Day with my sweet baby girl and husband (okay, sorry Major- and cat). 

Mother's Day and my family have a complex history.  My grandma died very suddenly on Mother's Day eleven years ago.  At the time it seemed almost cruel to lose one's grandmother so abruptly on a day meant to bring her close, and it has taken us all several years to gracefully move into a place of peace and acceptance when we remember that day and Mother's Day in general.  So it was overwhelmingly refreshing to look ahead at the calendar and feel true excitement at the thought of this year's Mother's Day.  I woke up early this morning to Eleanor's content babbles and felt like the luckiest lady in the world. 


Here are some pictures from our afternoon.  We went to the park for the very first time and were very happy to see how much fun the baby had being gently pushed in one of the swings!  She actually let out a few "weeeee!"'s as well.  The trip was so exhilarating for her that on our walk home she conked out in the stroller just as we approached Four Moon, the awesome neighborhood watering hole across the street from our building.  We made the delightfully impromtu decision to stop for some beer.  The birds chirped, the baby slept, and the sunlight glinted through green leaves overhead.  It was a great day to be a momma.     










Happy Mother's Day!