LOST A SOCK

In which I am positive spring has not come early

As I watched the snow melt last week at a blistering thirty-five degrees, and Groundhog Day skeetered on through, I thought for sure that Spring might present its pretty little self early.  Tulips and green grass and and tree buds, oh my!  Just what I needed!  A quick winter!

 

What the hell was I on?

We live in the Midwest.  And we are less than ten days into the month of February.

 

If you're going to marry anybody, it should definitely be your best friend.  The brides at their wedding site.  Seven months to our their big day, if you're keeping track.

Two weeks ago we chose the agency which will conduct the Homestudy for our adoption (our actual adoption agency is based out of another state, and your homestudy agency needs to be within your own state) and it has been a paperchase of an extreme kind ever since.  Before our meeting downstate next week, Kevin and I must assemble financial documents of all sorts, write essays and provide family histories three generations back, provide documentation of child and pet immunizations alike and make it through seventeen kinds of background checks.  (Fine. Five. But it feeeeels like seventeen, finding that fine line between smashing the prints OFF of my fingers, and sharing my fingerprints with the FBI, and all.) 

I must admit that the OCD part of me really enjoys assembling all of the necessary documents into neat piles and giant envelopes and plastic drawers-- and knowing that each little page brings us closer to our baby is quite exciting.  The copier we bought at the beginning of the homeschool year?  Han-dee!  Unfortunately the wintertime trips involving coats, mittens, car seat buckles and snow with three small children, again and again to retrieve this page or that, are a bit less fun than the organizing part.  Though, eh, the boys have come to love sauntering through the metal detector at the county court house by now.  Ha!

I've decided to keep a timeline for our adoption over in my sidebar, to mark the larger steps of the process.  Its something I've found so interesting as I read other bloggers who have brought their children home.

In the wee hours of tomorrow morning Marin and I will embark on a mission of a different kind: the one to figure out what has been causing hydronephrosis of her good kidney, and exactly the severity of it.  She will be given IV sedation and then radiologists will inject nuclear medicine into one of her arteries to watch it travel through her kidneys.  Up until now Marin's urologist has been watching the kidney through renal scans every few months, but at this point he felt it was time to be a bit more invasive.

I am nervous about the test tomorrow- about her being under general anesthesia for a few hours, and about the IV's and the process of going under.  It was awful when we did this last year.  But more than that, I am worried for the outcome (though, obviously, completely beyond my control.)  We made it through last year's surgery with an end in sight-- believing that she would be okay, and that it was a pretty easy fix.  One point five kidneys was totally doable in my mind, and once the surgery was over it would be smooth sailing.

I am not as easy with investigating the whole kidney we have left.  I am even less okay with the possibility of another surgery, and have a million questions to what losing another part of these important organs might mean to her future.  Not knowing is always difficult, right?  I look forward to a bucketful of answers, at least, and possibly a barrell of good news.  And sunshine and beams of rainbow colors.  Or something.

Tonight after seeing KJ and Jack off to their aunt and uncle's house for the night, in preparation for tomorrow's procedure, I enjoyed the quiet of our house for approximately twelve whole minutes.  Marin and I looked at each other, puzzled with what we should do for the next six lonely hours, and I promptly bundled her up and took her out into our latest blizzard, in a very large, far too empty vehicle.  I embraced the fact that I will always be a mother who misses her children when we are apart, no matter how badly I long for the occasional ten minutes of quiet, and I have easily come to the conclusion that a quiet house to me is everything that child-induced chaos is to the quiet-lover.  We were meant to be a large family.  I've always known it, even in moments I forgot it, and I love every time I know it more.

Please do send positive vibes in our direction, for little Sissie Pie, if you get a moment.  While I do not anticipate a hospital stay, we did end up with one last year, so who's to say what will come of tomorrow?  Sunshine and rainbows after all is said and done, I hope.

Twenty Oh-Nine

First, our Christmas celebrations were good and I hope yours were, too.  We completed all but one item on my list of holiday fun (damn popcorn garland) plus took an unplanned trip to Florida this month.  The day after Christmas KJ came down with the stomach flu, and it then shot through every member of our house like a speeding rocket through some home-made pumpkin pie.  Or is that just what my laundry room looked like in its aftermath?  (Yes.)

I can hardly believe we're already a handful of days into the year 2010 (remember how crazy it was to reach Y2K with the projection of computers spontaneously combusting and scribbling out the 19 on every last page of your checkbook?  That was really ten years ago already?)  Last year, at the end of 2008, I wrote a review post, and going back to read it this morning I was surprised to remember what a difficult road we tread that year.  I had high hopes for 2009 at the time, and shared some of my goals here.  And now on the other side, I am so thankful to call 2009 one of the good ones.

With health a fair worry at the beginning of 2009, I am relieved to say that we made it through pretty smoothly.  Marin had surgery on one of her kidneys, and the other continues to be watched by our trusted specialist.  I was given the thumbs up by my own new doctor as well, to leave all return-tumor worries at her office door.  And while I didn't hit my final weight loss goal this year, I came forty-ish pounds closer, which is nothing to scoff at.  There's always the year ahead for celebrating the finish line, right? 

I gave running a try this year, and made frenemies with Jillian Michaels and her Eighteen Thirty Day Shred.  I also participated in two 5K walks for charity and pushed both a lawn mower and a double stroller a whole lot this year.  I loosened up my former strict relationship with the Weight Watchers points program for a balance with plain old healthy, natural eating, and wonder of wonders, found that consuming fruits and vegetables, and exercising, can help one shed pounds, also.  I accidentally dyed my hair black, and brown and had it short and long(ish.)  I lived in jeans and solid color t-shirts, and oversized hooded sweatshirts.   

This year we kept our noses clean financially, steering clear of credit card debt and paying off the lesser of our vehicles.  We were very honest with what we had to save, spend and give away each month, and though I know where I could have done better in certain situations, I am quite pleased in the end.  I learned a good deal about the stock market this year (as opposed to the Absolute Zero that I comprehended in years previous) and managed good returns as the market made its rebound.  I am forever thankful that we came away from the year with Kevin's job in-tact, unlike so many with different stories of 2009.

 
I fell head over heels in love with my simple laundry line this year, and spent more time than ever outdoors with the kids.  We visited our zoo through all seasons, discovered the walking trail near our home, and took full advantage of many free days for our local Chicago museums.  We also had a blast with Little League and basketball, took swim lessons and gave karate the old college try (read: fail!)  We practically lived at the library this year, heh, when we weren't at the zoo.  Many of those outings were done in the name of our new way of life as a homeschooling family, which I am both proud of myself for taking on this year, and proud of my children for embracing so readily.

 
This year was particularly difficult as we carried my Aunt Kathy to the end of her life, which is still hard to believe, and we participated in the Susan G. Komen walk in her name, to find a cure for a terrible disease.  I have remained overly-critical of myself through the year, still deeply longing to conquer my own fears and awkwardness to say the right thing a given moment instead of blurting out a jumbled mess of not quite what I meant to say as I back out of the room, sheepishly.  And still around and around with a sugar addiction, and eating in the name of comfort and celebration and worry, except for the moments when I managed to overcome it this year.  And there were a few. 

 
In response to 2008's Year of No Travel, we made our way from coast to coast in 09.  Kevin and I took a spring trip to California, just the two of us, and left a little piece of our heart at Big Sur.  We made a 3600 mile road trip as a family early this fall, visiting Mount Rushmore and the Colorado Rocky Mountains, the Texas panhandle and many of the plains states.  I will love and remember that trip forever.  Late in the year we took the kids on their first flight, down to Florida where we spent time with Kevin's Granny on the news of her late-stage cancer.  Marin paid her very first visit to Mickey Mouse, also.

 
KJ learned to ride a bike this year!  Kevin and my dad constructed our backyard swing set!  Sant and Leslie bought a house!  And got engaged!  My major purchase was my Canon Rebel and its lenses, which I love with my whole heart, and we landscaped the front of our house, and carpeted our family room.  We successfully rented out our old house for a second year, and our baby daughter learned to crawl, walk, talk and climb. 

 
This year a new baby began making his/her way into our family, growing in our hearts, rather than in my womb.

This year I learned that personal growth, and change, often do not happen overnight.  Or even in short months or years, sometimes.  I learned the value of solid friends willing to accept you for who you are, forgive you for who you were not but should have been, hold you up when you could barely stand and sincerely pat your back as you giddily make your way down the fast track to happiness.  I learned that making yourself vulnerable has its down-side, but is full of lessons when ridden out to a situation's end.  I saw that there is perfection in life's good and bad, and that opening oneself up to truest sincerity and God's abundance can bring nothing but joy, and even a few surprises. 

2009 was good.

In the interest of sooner, rather than later

The other night I tried to write about our African adoption.  (It's true! You win!)  I had a million worries and scenarios swirling in my head, and every paragraph ended up sounding all wrong to me.  I must have deleted five or six entire posts, until at last I was still typing at well past midnight and decided to call it a night.  I kept the title, posted a recent homeschool picture of Jack and a favorite Rumi quote that says much for where Kevin and I are at the moment.  I labeled it Adoption, because I hoped several months from now I would remember the night I tried and tried to write about our new baby, and couldn't get it right.

Thankfully, just a couple days later Kevin and I have made progress with some of our details, and I think I have my footing in this entry. 

I suppose I should share with you the fact that I am an obsessive planner (heh, my husband loves this about me) but we're less than great with timelines.  We talked about a wedding date, and moved it forward almost immediately.  We planned to have children five years into our marriage, and had been trying for KJ for three months by our first anniversary.  When we think about moving, or buying a new car or going on vacation, we always end up scrapping the original far-off date for something much closer.  We always overshoot on the big stuff. 

So this past July we decided that we would adopt a baby. 

We thought going out a year and some change would give us lots of time for thinking, saving and planning.  We slowly shared our news with friends and family, some of whom have been very excited and a few others who have surprised us with their lack of support.  I shared the news with all of you, and we've spent months having small conversations with our children about their sibling, growing him or her into their hearts and into our little family. 

We think about and talk about our new baby all the time, by now.  I read blogs and family journals, and often plug into search engines or YouTube so I can look at pictures and watch videos of loving families who have brought babies home.  Without fail, I always cry.

African adoption is something I've always recognized as my own.  There was never a moment where I suddenly declared it The Perfect Idea, or something I should do.  Africa has always lived in me, even in times I squelched it with thoughts of too expensive, too far away, too impossible.  As a sophomore in college I was once invited to travel to Tanzania and I loved the idea to my core, but in the end, two thousand dollars might as well have been a million to an elementary ed undergrad slash pizza waitress who was forever trying to afford next semester's books. 

Hello Africa, my old friend.  I'm making my way to you now.

The thing about meditating, and forever pondering your life's purpose, is that eventually you become more in-tune with the tiny voice deep within yourself.  (A process without end, might I add.)  I love what Martha Beck says about not needing to know exactly what your perfect life should look like, but instead make yourself aware of what feels better to you, and what feels worse.  It all comes together in that way.  Long behind me are the days where I chastised myself for not being more interested in Friday night at the bar, and even for finding a way to balance a nine-to-five career with motherhood.  Those things-- every thing is perfect for someone, and many someones (whom I have respect and admiration for) at different times.  I spent far too much time of my early adult life trying to figure that out, where my plans fit in if not with many of my immediate friends' interests and paths.  It was such a struggle for me, but I found my happiness somewhere else, and in this case, across a very large pond.  I think it vitally important for all of us to figure out what feels comfortable and what is most honest for our individual selves-- and to find a way to pursue that.

The more I learn to follow my gut, the happier I am to embrace and investigate my deep draw to spirituality, my dedication to my growing family, our choice to homeschool, and our quest to adopt from a place that I've never been to, but feel I know so well.  Anything worth doing comes with its risks and its challenges, and even its criticisms.  But to return to a place, again and again that is so uniquely your own, and altogether perfect for the time, is worth everything.

So now that we have had almost half of the year to think and talk, Kevin and I really feel that this is the right time for us to start our adoption for our new baby.  Sooner than later is definitely better.  Of course that means figuring out the financial aspect of the process, and quick, as well as making sure we don't end up in Africa during Sant and Leslie's September wedding!  We originally imagined next fall as a good time, but the call to go get our baby has become so apparent that we don't feel the need to drag things out any further.  I've been eating, sleeping and breathing my fourth child lately (friends, we've chosen names!) and the time is right.  We've started comparing agencies and narrowing ourselves down to one country, and I've got rubbermaid containers of boy and girl clothes alike stored in the garage, ready to go. 

She's going to make a marvelous big sister. 

It's beginning to look a lot like...oh come on, you know...

For what Autumn was this year (which, I think, was my best fall ever) I bid my farewell with a smile and a wave and a heart full of fond memories.  And pictures.  Lots and lots of pictures. 

 
Whether it was homeschool, or Marin making her way to a more manageable age while I settled comfortably into mothering three, or my growing appreciation for nature, I don't know.  Possibly a combination of all of those things.  And I'm hoping Christmas will bring much of the same happiness and good cheer.

Sant, Marin and myself, Thanksgiving 2009

To quote the late Joseph Campbell, "I think that what we're all really seeking (more than even the meaning of life) is an experience of being alive."  I think so too-- that most people, at their core, really want to dig their heels in, and to feel what it is to be alive.  Less going through the motions, less riding out the monotony, less self-medicating.  More being alive.  I want to be alive as often and for as long as I am able.

(Yes, I was most certainly alive at Thanksgiving, champion consuming ninety-four pounds of my mother's home-made stuffing, until I nearly exploded.)

 
Kevin and Jenny cooking, slicing and seriously crazy, at my mom's.

I cannot really say what this holiday season will bring for my family and myself, but this year I put together a simple list of fun and meaningful Christmas activities that I would like to see come together for us.  (Hello, goal oriented!) 

I am so excited about this holiday season, which Kevin and the kids and I really celebrate from just before Thanksgiving until the New Year, hoping to stretch Christmas from what might be only a day or two at best, to an entire month-long celebration of giving, happiness and faith.  Some of the items on my list are complete no brainers, because it wouldn't be the Christmas holiday without them, and others are meant to add a little cheer.  And some of them were completed quickly and crossed out, of course.

• Read The Night Before Christmas (My late-night Christmas Eve tradition with the kids, once they're bathed and in their Christmas pajamas after we come home from Kevin's mom's house)
• Venture out to the mall for a new family picture 
• Bake festive cookies, and sample the dough, of course (We do this every year with my mom.  Lots. Of. Sampling.)
• Take a long drive up Chicago's North Shore to enjoy the holiday lights (We so love doing this, and have added to the tradition in recent years, stopping at Dunkin Donuts for hot chocolates and a box-full of Boston Cremes.) 
• Go Christmas shopping, just Kevin and I, the weekend after Thanksgiving (another long-standing tradition of ours) (thaaaaanks Sant & Leslie, for babysitting!)
• Be thoughtful with the gifts we purchase and make for our friends and family 
• Eat dinner backwards, starting with dessert
• Host a Christmas Movie Party (Something new for this year!)
• Shop with the kids for our giving tree ornaments, one for each child (I started this last year, hoping to teach them how blessed we are to wake up Christmas morning to a family room full of presents.  Each child gets an ornament with an age and gender that corresponds to their own, and picks out and wraps a few presents for him/her.)
• Make popcorn garland
• Get dolled up, have a special dinner and see A Christmas Carol production on stage (We have tickets for Kevin, KJ, Jack and I this weekend!)
• Narrate Christmas stories to each other in front of our fireplace
• Write and mail letters to Santa
• Learn about how Christmas is celebrated all around the world (You're seeing some active homeschool planning in the last few, yes?)  (We begin our unit on Christmas Around The World tomorrow, actually.)
• Make our own gift wrap
• Decorate our house, listening to Christmas music (This is surely one of my favorite events as a mom-- helping my kids to put their collections of ornaments on the tree.)
• Shop with the kids for their parents and siblings (Again, hoping to drive home the concept of giving at this time of year.) 
• Read The Christmas Story

So our house has been decorated, we've sung bunches of Christmas songs.  We are mostly finished with our shopping and I've got some swell art projects planned for homeschool.  I am so happy that we are here already, with 2009 seeming to pass in the blink of an eye.  Knowing how quickly this season, along with everything else, passes, I really hope to savor all of the best parts. 

What are some of your traditions or favorite ways to celebrate the season? 

Totally appropriate, the day before Thanksgiving. Completely.

Hey, remember that time a year and thirteen days ago I started a diet? 

(You love diet talk the day before Thanksgiving, don't you, friends?)

Anyway, a year ago.  Plus thirteen days. 

I had given birth to Marin just a couple months before, and felt ready to hit the hard trail again.  I started Weight Loss Wednesday here, mostly because it worked before, and then a month later I quieted myself about the whole ordeal.  I decided to lose weight without broadcasting my weekly successes and failures to the entire internet this time.  It felt right.

So it took me longer than I thought it would, but I finally hit my pre-pregnancy number again, just this morning!  In the last year and thirteen days, slowly slowly, I lost forty-two pounds, and am now ready again to attack the remaining twenty that I'd never lost the first time around.

Whew!

I've got a very long-standing relationship with food and dieting-- thankfully one that has grown into something more positive than life-threatening over the last four years, but long, long, long-standing nonetheless.

Let us take a quick walk down memory lane, shall we? 

Here are Sant and I, in 2005.  Just about a month before I became pregnant with Jackson.  My loves included giant oatmeal cream pies, flipping channels on television, gossip, complaining and fast food three times a week. 

I don't mean to sound so irreverent about it, but gosh, guys, I don't even know who that person was.

This was my tipping point, not quite one year later and about forty pounds heavier than the picture before.  I was so happy to finally have my baby, but physically and emotionally I was a trainwreck.  I remember being in the hospital after having Jack, talking to my sister about dieting.  I felt, at that time, that if I didn't do something I was going to die.  Not necessarily in a physical way, where I'd up and keel over, but the urge to find myself and pull things together was so strong it was almost tangible for me.  I think back to this time often.

Same mom, same baby.  Eighteen months later.  I did what I had to do, losing ninety-two pounds.  I tackled many of my bad eating habits, dealt with underlying emotions from the past, worked on my self esteem, found myself.  And God I felt better. 

After I reached this point, in the summer of 2007, I let myself coast for six months.  I still had weight to lose, but I desperately needed a break from counting every calorie.  In that time I gained eight pounds--- eight that have haunted me until this day, because just after gaining them I found myself pregnant with Little Missy.

Need to gain a quick fifty pounds?  Crave fruit.  In the most ferocious, maniacal way you can imagine, daily, for nine months. 

After all was said and done last fall, and I had a perfect baby girl, I felt a little defeated.  Who works that hard for that long to lose that much weight, only to do it all over again?

I had two choices, though, to lose it again or stay where I was.  And I didn't want to be where I was.

So here are Sant and I, about a month ago.  Stronger.  On a beach together again, much thinner than our 2005 picture.  Sant had lost her weight forever ago and has successfully kept it off.  I was making my way back.  

This time, my loves are photography, reading, meditating, teaching first grade and preschool in my family room, and most recently, treadmill running.  I enjoy raw vegetables and whole wheat bread, and a Hershey's Kiss every day after lunch.  I embrace my sugar addiction and my ability to lose weight slowly, for as long as it takes until I am not only back to my pre-pregnancy weight (today!) but to twenty pounds down from here, for good.

I also (apparently) enjoy kicking Sant's ass hip,

though I always say I'm sorry and wipe the shoe dirt from her pretty white jacket.

May I not gain forty-two pounds at our (two) Thanksgiving dinners tomorrow, so I can live to see the other side of this denim size.

I think I will.

Damn, that was fun.

Happy Thanksgiving, my friends.  Among so many things in my life, I am so thankful for you. 

The Life List

It is no real secret that I am quite goal oriented.  I've spent the last three years overhauling the very essence of my self, searching for truth and learning to embrace with gratitude each of my experiences, good or bad, for how it can mold me.  In 2007 I started a list of goals for my life- one hundred of them because I like nice, even numbers.  As things go, I became busy and my list was shelved and briefly forgotten. 

Then in mid-summer this year I really felt a pull back to my list.  I resumed working on it, asking myself again and again what I really, really wanted to do in my lifetime.  Fairly in touch with my personal callings-- that is, knowing at least what intuitively feels right and not right for myself, I included things that were ridiculously easy but meaningful, and things that possibly would take a bit of effort on my part.  Each item means something to me.  I do not concern myself with when any of it will take place, or how, and I am very open to creating edited drafts should the need arise in years to come.  I'll never back down from a goal because it seems difficult or unreachable. 

I never intended to post my list here, until recently when my girlfriend Bree posted hers on her own blog.  Suddenly it made sense that I, too, could share my own life goals.  The 07's are mixed together with the 09's here, which is why some have been completed and crossed off the list.

My Life List of 100

1. Stand in Times Square, NYC
2. Own both of our vehicles outright
3. Homeschool for as long as possible with each of my children
4. Photograph the Northern Lights of Alaska
5. Go camping as a family
6. Write a book and publish it
7. Pay off my (undergrad) student loans
8. Adopt a child from Africa
9. Then adopt more
10. Get a tattoo
11. Eat raw for seven days

 
12. Make a quilt for Nathan
13. Finish losing weight, and stay there
14. Meet Oprah
15. Take Jack on a real train ride
16. Grow my hair long
17. See Paris, France with Kevin
18. Visit Scotland's Eilean Donan Castle with Kevin
19. Own a laptop
20. Throw myself a girlfriend party with all my best girls
21. Spend a sunny summer afternoon on a boat

 
22. Take the boys to Lego Land
23. Sell our first house for (*) profit
24. Bike ride as a family
25. Donate $10,000
26. Inspire someone
27. Pet an elephant
28. Have a home office
29. Own a nice camera with lenses
30. Lay on a blanket beneath the stars, away from the city lights where they can really be seen

 
31. Cry tears of joy
32. Own a jean jacket
33. Photograph glaciers
34. Be fearless in public
35. Earn my Masters Degree
36. Thank (college professor) for the wonderful, human lessons she taught me about being a teacher
37. Hear the Dalai Lama speak in person, here in the United States or far away where the Tibetan Prayer Flags fly

 
38. Take in the Rocky Moutntains in Colorado
39. Publish a book of photographs I've taken, just for myself
40. Take a writing class
41. Attend Maria Shriver's Women's Conference
42. Make a twirling skirt for Marin
43. Photograph Marin in her twirling skirt
44. Tour the Eastern Seaboard in Peak Fall
45. See a Broadway show
46. Attend a Notre Dame game as a family
47. Learn to meditate
48. Drink a beer in a Boston bar
49. Live in my perfect house, detailed with beautiful baseboards, oversized windows and a library, surrounded by tall trees
50. Feel truest peace in my heart
51. Learn to play the accoustic guitar
52. Spend a weekend in Las Vegas

 
53. Complete a Breast Cancer walk for my Aunt Kathy 
54. Be a keynote speaker
55. Start my own charity
56. Befriend my daughter(s)
57. Buy a Thomas the Tank Engine table for the boys
58. Attend a spiritual seminar at The Omega Institute
59. Run a 5K
60. Own two-inch heels and wear 'em proud
61. Attend the religious services/places of worship for twenty faiths (As of late 2009, Catholic, Lutheran, Episcopal, Baha'i)

 
62. Enjoy fine dining
63. Catch fireflies with my kids
64. Be humble
65. Host an incredible Christmas party
66. Attend a tent revival
67. Own stainless steel appliances
68. Open my own retirement account
69. Rock my sister's baby
70. Attend a week-long silent retreat
71. Indulge my African connection
72. Earn my PhD
73. Teach my children to swim
74. Go RVing! with Kevin
75. Make my own summer dress
 
76. Cross and photograph the Brooklyn Bridge in NY, Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, Perrine Bridge in Idaho, Royal Gorge Bridge in Colorado, George Washington Bridge in NY/NJ, Mackinac Bridge in Michigan, Tower Bridge in London and Pont de Normandie in France
77. See a panda bear in person
78. Take my children on an airplane flight
79. Give excellent advice
80. Go horseback riding (as an adult)
81. Meet my dearest Internet friends
82. Habitually give meaningful gifts

 
83. Own a Mercedes Benz
84. Make bracelets for each of my girlfriends
85. Wear braided hair
86. Author an important essay
87. Own a piano
88. Paint on canvas and display it at home
89. Send my children to college, and others too
90. Ride a camel
91. Write an important letter
92. Hatch chicks with KJ
93. See the Vatican in Rome, Italy
94. Set foot in all Fifty States together with Kevin (as of late 2009, 24 of 50)
95. See the Argentine Patagonia
96. Grow a large back yard vegetable garden
97. Eat a fancy cupcake in a charming little cupcake shop
98. Visit Holland, MI in peak tulip season
99. Become a grandmother
100. Serve Thanksgiving dinner to a long, festive table of my favorite guests

Days Gone By

Today marked the anniversary of the day Kevin and I met down at college, twelve years ago. 

Today was Jackson's very first day of preschool, and KJ's very first day of homeschool. 

Late last night the kids and I arrived home from a great road trip to our friends' lake house up in Wisconsin.  (I took a six year old, three year old and an eleven month old on a three day, seven hundred mile road trip by myself without even a dvd player in the car.  I'm going to tattoo that information to my bicep and wear it proudly.  It was really enjoyable, too!) 

The night before, Kevin flew home from a business trip to Texas. 

Just before that, he too was in Wisconsin.  In another part, just before the kids and I were there, visiting a different friend.

The week?  Busy!

The last month?  Has gotten away from me, in part. 

There are some recent pieces that I don't want to skip over, without at least a mention.  It has been a really, really wonderful summer.

There was Baby Day, v. 2.0

My beautiful godson Nathan. 

(I'm sorry Nathan.  You are my handsome godson.)

(But seriously, a beautiful baby, still.)

A summer afternoon spent at Chicago's Point (with Auntie Jenny) is always a summer afternoon well spent.

We were lucky enough to steal Kevin's Granny for a day and a night while she was up visiting from Florida recently (and would you believe this is the only picture I thought to snap?  Geh.)

And while we weren't the technical hosts, we did get to do lots of bonding with Leslie's mom when she came to stay for a week.  Sant & Leslie hosted their first party at their new home (and obviously we split the tables between boys and girls, ha!)

There have been many days spent on swings, and on the beach.  Some of them at the same time.

And I've made good on my promise (to myself) to spend many a day and many an evening at the water, with Kevin, with the kids, with whoever happened to be trapped in my car as I suddenly decided it the perfect random moment to head north.

We visited the Baha'i Temple in Evanston, IL,

and Sue the dinosaur at the Field Museum.

And also, sat on the moon while we were at it.

My three year old son fell in love with Weeping Willow trees this summer, setting us off on a journey to learn the name of every common tree in our area.

And my baby daughter has loved playing in every form of water.  Here, a splash pad.

We visited our beloved zoo once or twice (or twelve times)

and we rested in the soft, green grass at the park, after long summer afternoon walks.

We swam with Kevin's family on that one hot day,

and we played (loudly!) (happily!) (tirelessly!) with our friends near and far.

We jumped!

And watched the sun set some more.

My baby's beautiful blonde hair has grown and thickened.

And more teeth are joining the party!

Jackson, school today.  A little happy, a little sad.  A little thankful that it's only a few hours per week.

And a little going to hell for Homeschooler's Best T-Shirt.

What a time we've had.

Family Outing

Since forever, my sister Sant has been a very close member of my little family.  She and I are three years apart in age, and growing up we played and argued like normal sisters.  We shared a small, yellow, bunkbedded bedroom until I was twelve and then suddenly I needed my (sigh here, loudly and dramatically) space, even though at the time as the oldest child in a family of six, the only space I could find was in our hot, unfinished attic where I slept two nights with pillows and blankets spead out on large plastic-wrapped packages of fiberglass insulation.  (All I can say is that I was so twelve, and move along.) 

Of course, I took Sant to the attic with me.  Do you really think I was going to sleep up there alone?

My parents guessed correctly that with all the drama that is a twelve year old girl, possibly I did need my own room, and they allowed me to paint the basement storage room gloomy grey (which met me half way since I was unbelievably twelve and deeply desired to paint it black) and move down there.

Where a good percentage of the time, I invited my sister down with me to sleep throughout all of high school on an old black leather couch handed down from my grandparents, which she will someday blame for back problems.

In 1996 we moved from Chicago to Northwest Indiana, and four days later I went away to college. 

Upon returning home from college, the summer before my wedding, Sant was again formally invited to join me in slumber on my new bed, purchased for my new house.  And there we spent summer evenings watching episode after episode of Who Wants to be a Millionare, as well as chick flick movies to infinity, with my window air conditioner cranked to high, under mounds of blankets.  Also we used our family's trampoline to work on our tans that summer, and ate lots of cheese and mushroom pizza.  (Which subsequently helped neither my sister nor I fit into a wedding gown and maid-of-honor dress.)

Finally I moved out of my parents house permanantly, just as I began my first teaching job and Kevin and I purchased our first house.  It would be two months until Kevin moved in, though, and if you've noticed a trend by now you can probably guess that I invited Sant to come stay with me at my new house.  And she did.

In 2001 Sant went away to college and I called her and emailed her and bugged her to death.  In 2002 KJ was born and Sant was the obvious choice for his godmother. 

She stayed with us again, on random weekends from time to time, in order to play with the baby and save my first-time post-partum ass.  Kevin, Sant and I passed that non-sleeping constantly-vomiting baby from person to person, day and night, and always wondered how that tiny precious boy could turn upside down the lives of three grown adults with sleep deprivation.  (Heh, we were quite unskilled back then, for sure.)

Then three years later when I was pregnant with Jack, on bed rest for several months to his birth, Sant came to stay with us for a few months to help.  She had just graduated from college and had yet to find a job, so she, KJ and I watched Elmo dvd's and cranked the air conditioning all summer, and snuggled up in blankets. 

She stayed with us for the next several years for most of each week, heading to my parents house on weekends in order to give everyone the proper amount of space.  We avoided the pizza this time, deciding that we should lose weight together, and collectively lost nearly two-hundred pounds.

Late one night during that two years of great weight loss and taking better control of our lives, Sant revealed to me that she was gay.  She didn't just think maybe she was gay, or simply hadn't dated enough guys (whom she always thought would make good friends, but alas, no spark,) she was sure and had been for a while.  She said that for the sake of avoiding the whole "outing" herself to everyone we know, and for fear of being shunned or rejected, she really thought for a while that she could hide it forever, and maybe even marry a nice guy and try to conform.

It wouldn't have worked, though, because we were well into realizing that a person gets one shot at life, so it might as well be good.  It was the bravest thing she would have to do, I think, when she one-by-one told friends and family over months' time, having no idea how anyone would take it, fearing that she could even lose important relationships.  But thankfully, it didn't change anything for anyone.

 

I was so excited for her to be exactly who she is.

And we celebrated at Chicago's Pride Parade that summer with jello shots.

And then a little while later she met Leslie online. 

And a little while after that, about a year ago, Leslie moved here from the west coast, and we all got a Leslie.  (Who happens to be one of Marin's best pals.)

They've stayed with us a couple days each week for the last year, and KJ, Jack and Marin have had the chance to bond with Leslie, too.  It is always the hope that your "person" fits in with all of your other people, and I say with much honesty that Leslie is not only the perfect person for Sant, but also a perfect fit in our family. 

And though I cannot yet post pictures of all of the fun projects my mom and I concocted for the day, tomorrow we will host a shower for Sant and Leslie, who will close on their first house this week.  Their first house, seven minutes from my doorstep.  Let the new chapter begin, where I my three children my three children and I on seperate occasions venture over to their house for sleepovers with icy cold air conditioning, cozy blankets and relaxing movies.

Where I will happily sleep on the couch.