LOST in Suburban Bliss

Friday Foto(s)

This is the restaurant at which I was enjoying delicious fish tacos and a nice, cold beer one week ago today. 

Today? Lunch is Kraft Mac-n-Cheese back in rainy, dreary Illinois.

Sigh...

Happy Friday. 

The Kind of Friends

Grocery shopping. check

Meal planning. check

Arranging child care. check

Laying out school outfits, dance class outfits, ice skating outfits. check

Typing out four pages of notes. check

Alerting the neighbors and school moms. check

Extra hugs, extra kisses, and I was off to my first Girls' Weekend in more than 5 years. 

FREEDOM!!!

Some moms might feel a little guilty, but not me. (That membership in the Mean Mommy Club comes in handy for times such as these.) I felt GREAT. Not only was I looking forward to four whole days with my college girlfriends, but to the luxury of two whole hours on a plane by myself. The little things in life...just me, a book, and my iPhone, which just so happens to be my new BFF (did you know you can watch movies on that thing? Cuz that's what I did on the plane. It was awesome. Even better? It wasn't a Barbie movie.) Nobody bothered me. Nobody asked me for a snack. Nobody asked me if a friend could come over. Nobody asked me for homework help. Nobody was picking on their sister. Nobody was tormenting the dog. Nobody was doing anything. 

It was heaven. 

And that was just the beginning of my weekend. Once I arrived to our destination, the first people I laid eyes on were two of my buds waiting for me at the gate, like you used to be able to do before all of the security nonsense. We hugged and squealed and didn't care who was watching. They had arrived hours earlier and instead of getting their baggage, they had headed to the bar to wait for the rest of us. 

That's what good friends do. Screw the luggage and its contents. You can always buy more. 

So I abandoned my luggage at the baggage claim as well and waited with them at the bar for the last one of us to arrive. 

Because that's what good friends do. 

I won't bore kind readers with a detailed itinerary of our trip. Just know that it involved an all-day trip to the pool that resulted in burned scalps and wrinkled fingers, a walk on the beach, trips to restaurants, a ghost tour on which we became slap happy, a spectacular lunch of fish tacos at a beach-side dive that might possibly be my new fave restaurant, beer, wine, mango mamas (that was me), a lot of Starbucks, and plenty of talking. 

The kind of talking where one minute we were sharing some deep and difficult issues, the sort of stuff we wish we didn't have to talk about, but the next we were laughing like hyenas at the silly waiter who thought we had a thing for him. Little did he know. 

The kind of talking you can only do with friends who know you better than you know yourself, the kind of talking you can do with friends who watched you make mistakes. Talking with friends with whom you shared the best of times, as well as those not-so-good times. 

Talking with friends who had their own special G-O-O-D  L-U-C-K cheer and sang it whenever you had a really difficult exam coming up. The kind of friends who watched you fall in love with that one person we least expected, but saw how great it was and still is. 

.

Talking with friends who move away, but never go away. 

.

Yeah, it was a good weekend. We're going to do it again next year. And the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after that...

because that is the kind of friends we are. 

.

My only wish from the weekend? I sure hope my girls have friends like these. 

My Kind of Town

As I am typing this, I've been sitting shotgun in our van for 4 hours, with 2 more to go. Hubs is driving, the girls are watching the Hannah Montana movie (thank God for DVDs in the car), and the 80-lb Hound is snoozing on the floor, squeezed between our DVD storage case, a princess book, a snack bag, a Nintendo, and a Leapster carrying case. 

We are traveling from Cleveland back to the Chicago burbs, a trip that we will be making again in just two weeks. We make it a lot, actually. I hate the drive, the Chicago traffic, the tolls, the Indiana turnpike, and the slow speed limits in Ohio. I hate the dirty travel plaza bathrooms and the fact that whenever I am hungry we can only spot Hardees, with a McDonald's nowhere to be found. 

However, I love the two destinations equally. I love Chicago because it’s, well, Chicago. As big cities go, I think it has the best of everything. It’s big, but not ridiculous big. It’s urban and chic, but still Midwestern. Ten years ago, young and naive and acting out of character, I moved to the City of Big Shoulders on my own. Somehow I managed to make a life for myself. I was in awe of the place then, and am still in awe of it now. 

But Cleveland? Cleveland will always be home. I get ragged on by my fellow Chicagoans for being from Cleveland. All in good humor, of course. It doesn’t bother me, because to be from Cleveland, especially if you are a sports fan, means you come with a tough exterior, or in other words, you are not a wuss. 

Sure, the river caught on fire. Yeah, I’ve heard all the jokes. But frankly, that was eons ago and as a kid I never even knew that happened. I mean, what is the big deal...don’t all rivers catch on fire at some point? Sure, Cleveland is known to some (usually those whom I consider ignorant ethnocentric out-of-towners) as the Mistake on the Lake. Just because something rhymes doesn’t make it true. 

But what really sums up the town is its sports teams, or more importantly, the people who back them year after year, loss after loss. So the Indians haven’t won a World Series since 1948. I know, it's pathetic. I may not have witnessed a Cleveland World Series champ, but guess who actually went to a World Series game back in ’94? Me. Cleveland is small enough that cool things like that can actually happen to normal people like me. How many people can say they have ever been to a World Series game? Not everyone. (No, the Indians did not win that World Series, but yes, they did win the game I attended, and that's what counts. I’ll take it where I can get it.) 

The best thing about that World Series? The entire town, and I mean THE ENTIRE TOWN, was into it. Downtown, East Side, West Side, all the southern parts. Everyone. Nine out of 10 cars had Indians flags flying for the entire month of October. Everyone was wearing blue and red. Every office building and store had Go Tribe banners. You couldn’t escape it. We were in this TOGETHER. 

At the time, I thought this unity was a given, that this is how it should be when the hometown team makes it big. I was rudely awakened 11 years later, when fully ensconced in the Chicago burbs with my new fam, the Chicago White Sox won the World Series. Sure, Hubs threw parties (to which I wore my Indians jersey). Sure, we had fun. But it wasn't the same for me. There is no cohesiveness in a town that has two baseball teams like Chicago does. If you were a Chicago Cubs fan, you weren't rooting for the Sox, something that I couldn't wrap my head around. Forget about Cubs vs Sox, how about being a Chicago fan, even if just for October? Couldn't the city come together for that? The White Sox are rivals of my beloved Indians, so I was a little crushed the day after the Sox won the Series. Not because they actually won (dammit), but because I was in the children’s section of the library with Poonch when I overheard another mom say, oh, who won the World Series last night? I’m a Cubs fan so we didn’t watch it. Chicago was in the World Series and she couldn’t share her Cubs love with the Sox. Pathetic. Maybe even more pathetic than not winning a WS since '48. (OK, not really.)  

That would never happen in Cleveland. I was depressed for the rest of the day. I realized my kids would never know what it feels like to be so together, so united, so devoted, no matter what. 

So yeah, I love Chicago. 

But as for Cleveland, it ROCKS. 

Baseball's regular season is coming to an end soon. (Unfortunately, any hope of a season came to an end for the Indians as early as June. Sob.) The nights are developing a chill to the air and it's getting dark earlier. In sports lingo, this mean one thing...football season is gearing up. Cleveland has no chance this year. Again. Yet I still exclaim, 

GO BROWNS!

Sundays In My City

Unknown Mami came up with a great way to feature our cities, suburbs, or wherever you call home with a meme called Sundays In My City. I love this idea because where we spend our time shapes our daily lives, whether we consciously realize it or not. I have ties to many cities, but there are three that have been and always will be a part of my identity. 

Although I currently reside outside of Chicago, I am originally from a suburb of Cleveland, Ohio. Most people refer to Cleveland as the mistake on the lake. I never have, never will, and this picture tells why. This is the view of the Rock-n-Roll Hall of Fame from the outdoor patio of the Great Lakes Science Center, which we visited while on a recent trip back home. I highly recommend visiting both if you are ever in the area. 

So grab your camera, get out, enjoy your city, and go here if you'd like to share it with us. 

Friday Foto

I was going through our California vacation pics and came across this view. The amazing thing? This shot was taken from inside a moving car with my phone. No editing. 

Happy Friday.

Friday Foto

On the road again, like a band of gypsies we go down the highway...

We are on the road again, heading to Ohio to visit family. It seems as if my main activity this summer has been packing. Not a bad problem to have, right? I'm not sure if I will be able to post anything in the next week or so, but if I don't, I'll be back the following week. Until then...

Happy Travels, and of course...

Happy Friday. 

Friday Foto

Poonch was upset with Hubs and me during our audio tour of Alcatraz, because she was several chapters ahead of us on her player and we refused to skip to where she was. She decided to pout here in the dining hall. I thought it was an ironic place to take on the parentals, seeing as it was Alcatraz, for crying out loud.

Man, that girl is brave. 

Happy Friday. 

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

There are several different types of vacations one can take. 

There is the type that epitomizes relaxation, you know, lounging on the beach with a fuzzy drink paired with the obligatory umbrella which usually ends up poking your eye out as you try to sip slowly (or quickly, depending on how great your need for rum to erase everyday life).

Then there are the more educational vacations, those that are taken to learn about a new place, new people, new food. I knew that our vacation to California with the kids AND in-laws would be this sort. A romantic weekend in Napa with Hubs would have to wait. 

And our trip was educational. We learned that Disney World totally rules over Disneyland (sorry). We learned about the mission in Carmel. We learned how a cable car works. We learned about Chinatown. We went to Alcatraz and learned about its storied (and freaky) history. We saw the Golden Gate Bridge in person instead of just seeing it on TV. We went to Muir Woods and learned about the redwood forest. I've learned that a baseball game is just as enjoyable even if your home team isn't playing. We even learned some family history and met relatives that we had only heard about. 

I learned a few more things, as well. 

I learned that just because a hotel has the word "castle" in its title doesn't mean it is a castle. 

I learned that you should never shove Chuckles in the very back of a van on a long, winding road. I've learned how to clean up 3 gallons of chunky puke with 4 paper thin tissues, all while consoling the puking child, reassuring her that it is OK to vomit in a van on the way to Carmel, a van that 4 adults and 2 children need to use for the rest of the week. I learned that stopping at Costco can be advantageous when one must clean up puke out of said backseat. I've learned that throwing away vomit-y clothes is much smarter than trying to clean them. 

I've learned that one daughter is exactly like her daddy, and I've learned the other daughter is a clown. I've learned that the ocean brings out the child in everyone. I've learned that my girls want to love baseball, just so that they have something to share with their daddy. That, and because they realized that ballparks = cotton candy.

I've learned that Poonch can overcome her fears and ride Space Mountain, and even love it.  I've learned that Poonch is inpatient only because she is so passionate and has no time for things other than her current obsessions. 

I've learned that Chuckles, in contrast, is one of the most patient humans around me, even at just 5 years old. I've learned that she is brave enough to go into the D cell at Alcatraz, and happy and innocent enough to come of it it smiling while the adults came out sober. 

I've learned that my girls can be the best of friends and the worst of enemies, and they can cycle through that 13 times a day. (Well, I already knew that.)

I've learned that stealing a little time for an Irish coffee and a nighttime cable car ride with Hubs can take us back to when it was just me and him against the world. 

I've learned that my family drives me crazy, and I've learned that I'd go crazy without them. 

It was a good trip. Puke aside, of course. That I could have done without. 

Digital World

When I moved to Chicago 12 years ago, I figured I'd be here for a year or so and then move back to Ohio. You know, just like a silly PG-13 comedy...scratch that itch, get that restlessness out of my system, experience city-life, get lost on the subway, and then move back. 

Um, didn't exactly happen that way. Three short weeks after moving here, I met Hubby. From that day on I had an inkling that I wouldn't be moving back. Of course I didn't let this on to my mother. However, it didn't take long for her to figure out that my year-long-experiment had turned into something so much more. 

When Hubby and I got married, I made him promise to visit home with me whenever I wanted, no complaining, no whining. He obliged. 

When Poonch came along, I knew that these road trips would become all that much more important. And a pain in the ass. 

Driving 6 hours with a baby involved a lot of gear. Diapers, wipes, extra clothes for those diapers that exploded without fail in the car, baby food jars, travel baby spoons, travel baby dishes, bottles, nursery water, burb cloths, more wipes, diaper creme, binkies, rattles, pretend car keys, stuffed animals, board books, books that make noise, a couple of those god-awful kiddie CDs, and our favorite, a bottle warmer that plugged into the cigarette lighter. 

I remember that first trip home with Poonch at 3 weeks old. She was sleepily ensconced in her infant seat in the rear seat (middle, of course, because we read that was the safest place in the car, too bad for when Number 2 comes and they have to sit next to the doors, they're both just screwed), Hubby was driving, and I sat in the passenger's seat. We drove along, thinking this might not be that bad. Ten minutes later Poonch was screaming and I was trying to get into the back seat to try and soothe her. Traveling seventy miles an hour on the highway, I turned and shoved one foot back and tried to boost myself out of the front seat. Of course I got lodged with my ass smooshed against the windshield, stuck until Hubby gave me a shove and I went flying into the back. 

After that trip, we decided that even though we said we'd never buy a minivan, we were going to buy a minivan. 

Years have passed, and although our road trips have gotten easier as the girls have grown, we haven't figured out a way to cut down on all the stuff we bring. However, instead of hauling what I like to refer to as paper products...diapers, wipes, burb cloths, etc, we have moved on to digital products. 

This past weekend we made the trip again.  At one point somewhere in the middle of Indiana, I looked around at the mess that we call a van, frowning at what I saw:

the case that holds all the girls' DVDs (because bringing a few movies just isn't good enough)

the DVD remote

a black iPod

a white iPod

3 CD mixes 

Hubby's phone

Hubby's blackberry

my phone

the charger for my phone

the charger for Hubby's phone

the charge for the iPods

a Nintendo DS

a leapster

headphones for the Nintendo

headphones for the leapster

different headphones for the DVD

headphones for my phone

charger for an old phone we don't have anymore

Wow. We certainly have come a long way. Hello Digital World. And to think we thought plugging the bottle warmer into the lighter was so cool. Man, we were nerds.