Chicago Moms Blog

Martha Spoke to Me

It took a recent episode of my grandson's favorite TV show, Martha Speaks, to finally understand a little better the frustration my mother might have felt in the early 80's when she, in one fell swoop, disposed of my entire beloved, naked Barbie doll collection with bad haircuts and straight pin earrings, all of my baby dolls and every stuffed animal I ever owned.  She'd finally had enough and was doing something about regaining control of her house and her space.

In TD, The Pack Rat, TD has too much junk.  Junk he picks up on his way home from school or at a yard sale.  TD has so much junk he can't get out of his room.

Much like TD, I've accumulated a lot of stuff.  Not to the extent of Hoarders, but more stuff than I would be able to use in a lifetime.

Ahhhhh Memorial Day Weekend

Summer doesn't officially arrive in Chicago until Monday June 21st, but for all practical purposes, summer begins this weekend.  At long last, the 90 days that we Chicagoans can spend really enjoying the out of doors without the fear of frostbite is finally here.

I have aspirations of spending hours soaking up the sun while tending to my garden, taming weeds and keeping my lawn presentable.  I've purchased a Slip and Slide for the boys, gallons of bubbles, sidewalk chalk, various outdoor games and a few shares of SPF 1000 stock. 

Fort MemaPa is ready for countless hours of climbing, sliding and swinging.  We are ready for summer here!

The Ice Cream Truck

Growing up in Logan Square, a child of the 60's, I have fond memories of chasing the Ice Cream Truck.

Even though the Good Humor truck played a similar tune, it was always a great disappointment for me.  It had to be soft serve.

My mother had a weakness for the refreshing soft serve vanilla cones.  Whenever she heard the hypnotizing melody she was ready, with her two quarters in hand, to purchase a delicious afternoon snack for us.

My mom taught me to lick from the bottom and to make my way around the cone, to prevent the drips from making a sticky mess on my little hands.  I always devoured my cone first, while Mom savored hers slowly.  Sometimes she even let me finish her cone after mine was gone.  Ahhh good times.

The Downside of an Empty Nest

It was a labor of love and a job well done, even if I'm the only one to say so.  I would pat myself on the back if the bursitis in my right shoulder didn't make that so painful.

I've paid my dues. 

I've served my time. 

I've raised two semi-well-adjusted, responsible children into adulthood and now they have flown to their own nests.  The golden years have arrived, leaving just my husband and myself to throw all caution to the wind and do as we please, when we please.

I May Have Over 'Step'ped

When people ask me about my kids I stop for a moment and wonder.  Do they mean my kids, his kids, do they mean our kids?  Depending on who they are and how well I know them, my answer will differ.  I have two, my husband has two, that makes four.  We don’t have any together, wait, yes we do, we have FOUR children.

I met my step daughter Andrea when she was 12 and her father introduced me to her as his girlfriend.  Awkward for anyone, even more difficult for a prepubescent 12 year old girl who’s world was rocked by her parents’ divorce and rocked yet again by this intruder that now had her daddy’s attention and part of his heart.  I watched enough TV and read enough self help books to know that it was important not to try to be a mother to her and her 9 year old brother. 

Just Fifteen Minutes a Day

I am a Reading Mom.

I love to read. Books, magazines, blogs, makes no difference, I love all of them.

I began reading to my son shortly after I learned I was pregnant. If memory serves me correctly it was a Little Golden Book, titled The Gingerbread Man. Long before the Internet and digital books, I read that story to him every night so that he would become accustomed to the sound of my voice.

Butterflies

Butterflies can be defined as a fluttery feeling caused by an adrenalin rush that occurs when one is excited, nervous or anxious. 

Check.

Check.

And Check.

Butterflies can be caused by a fear of the unknown, the apprehension of a social situation or interaction with others, or by the feeling of being scrutinized by others.

I was on the phone with my husband, exchanging pleasantries of the day.  Mindless chatter mostly, that keeps the lines of communication open in our relationship.  The weather, traffic, how horrible this winter has been, what to make for dinner, tomorrow is garbage day-let’s clean out the fridge, really romantic stuff like that.  We were in the middle of some really deep thoughts  when my phone beeped announcing another call.  My husband offered to hang up so I could answer, but being that it was a number I did not recognize I opted to just let it go to voicemail.  When I finished up the conversation with my husband I connected to voicemail.  What I heard gave me butterflies.