Parties of Pittsburgh

Mary received her 'report card' the other day. It was prefaced with a note from the school, telling us not to worry about the scores the children received. 'All the kids were exactly where they should be.' Whatever that meant. I still read through it nervously, hoping to see more 3's than 1's, proud of her early language and math skills, and a little disappointed that she got a 'just beginning' for the sign of the cross.

The comments that her teacher wrote on the back gave me additional context to her performance at school. Mary is a 'delight' and always comes with a 'lovely story to share.' I laughed. In the week or two leading up to our trip to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving, those 'stories' were most likely centered on my hometown. She told her teachers, classmates, and just about everyone we ran into around town, that she was going there for Thanksgiving. She told them who she was going to see, where she was going to stay, all the toys she was going to play with, the sights she was going to see, and the food she was going to eat. In her young mind, Pittsburgh was the ultimate destination.

We arrived last Sunday with a basic itinerary for the nine days we would be in the Steel City. At first, it seemed full but not overly aggressive. But as the week wore on, and Bobby started taking four hour naps, I realized we might have over scheduled just a bit. How could I resist though; with only two visits to my hometown this year, I had to squeeze it all in.

On Friday morning, Mary told me she was going to 'write' a note to her classmate MJ (who I have yet to meet.) She kept telling me that she missed him and that he missed her. She sat on the ground and wrote out all the things that she had done and was going to do in her own code. When she was finished, she told me to mail it to MJ.

We saw Annie. I got my hair cut and so did Bobby and Mommy. I have two braids just like Molly now. And when I wake up in the morning, it will be really curly! 

Mommy went out to dinner with her friend, but Nana and Opa are babysitters so I stayed with them.
Then we went to a party for Nana. I wore my Christmas dress and my curly hair, and then we went to the Rivers Club for dinner. There were big, BIG games there and Bobby and I got to play with them.  
I got new shoes at Littles. Beautiful sparkly party shoes, but my Mom says I can only wear them some times. Not to school. 

We went to the Phipps and saw the trains. They are my favorite. I pushed all the buttons. I loved the trolley button the best. 

We saw Father Greco. He baptized me. Did you know that? I drew him a picture at Church. And then guess what, everyone came over and we had turkey! I had a big piece and then I asked for more. We all ran around Nana and Opa's house, and we danced, and my Mom kept asking me to smile, but I didn't want to. I just wanted another turkey cookie.

Lyla slept over last night! But Will didn't. Opa made us pancakes in the morning and I had two, no THREE pancakes. With syrup! I'm going to eat pancakes for dinner too. 

Then Uncle Adam and Aunt Laura took us to see Moana. It was so good. I was sad that Bobby missed his favorite part at the beginning though. I ate a lot of popcorn. 

We have dinner at the Club tonight, and Nana got me a new party dress to wear. I am going to eat shrimp and play with Lyla and Will in the playroom.

My Mommy has been playing tennis with Opa and Uncle Adam. I had a babysitter though and Bobby took another FOUR hour nap! He's a tired baby.

We are going to meet a tiny little baby named Sebastian, and guess what, guess what ... we are going to see a PUPPET SHOW?! Did you know that? 

And Opa and Nana are having another party tonight. There are so many parties here, but I love parties!

And then we will get to see Patty. That's my Mom's old babysitter. But Bill isn't feeling good so he can't come. Patty made me a blue purse with the letter M on it. I have been wearing it every day. I'm so fancy now.

I miss you MJ. And I'll be back in Chicago soon. And I'll give you and everyone at school a big hug.

Her transcription went on for about twenty minutes; she wrote and wrote and read and read; and it went quite a bit as I have captured above. She just missed a couple other details: The stuffing and gravy, some of the other special people who shared Thanksgiving, an award ceremony for my mom, dinners out, and a block party with us, Tiki drinks, Pitt tailgating, the orchids and the room with silly snow men, the runs and walks through the East End, races in the backyard and one sore loser, all the attempts to get the cousins to smile, and one tired Mom, Dad, Opa and Nana by Monday morning.

             

     

When we got home yesterday evening, Mary seemed particularly relieved. You could tell how much she had missed her room, her bed, and all of her toys. She went through her toy box giving Ariel, Yoda, Bitty Baby and dozens of others big hugs. She curled up into her bed and almost immediately fell asleep. (A rarity.) 

As much fun as she and Bobby had on 'vacation', they love their home, their beds, their Eva, and the familiarity of our community.

On the contrary, Pittsburgh and my parents house always feels like home to me; and I personally slept like a rock every night I was there.

Lo.

Week after Week

A lot has happened since my last entry. With each passing week, I've considered writing, but then abruptly closed my computer again. The fact is, I've been struggling to process and compose the weighty experiences that have compounded over the past three weeks. It's almost too much.

However, for fear of letting things slip through, I've decided to just go ahead and dump the moments and emotions that have characterized November thus far, hoping they will land poetically on the page. Apologies in advance for the choppiness, but here goes.

It started a couple days after Halloween. I was finally feeling a little better, but still not great. At midnight, I heard fire works going off. I guess they won, I thought. Please don't wake the kids. Please keep sleeping. I needed a good night sleep so badly. I heard Peter talking to Crippsy on the phone. I could hear the emotion in his voice.

They won, he confirmed to me. He went to bed reminiscing about the thousands of pitches he had watched this championship season. Finally, I thought to myself.

A couple days later, as the Cubs paraded down Michigan Avenue in front of one of the largest crowds for anything, ever in history, I started to get anxious.

I voted early and proudly wore my sticker. Then I prayed.

I couldn't catch my breath running. In and out. In and out. I couldn't find my stride. Foot over foot. Foot over foot. The anxiety kept growing.

I ate chicken strip prototype number 1,008 ... or so it seemed. Closer. Not there yet.

I dropped my daughter off at school. She had her 'winter dress' on, gray tights, her ladybug back pack with her snack tucked inside. A real fruit. Always her preference over a real vegetable or a real cheese. I thought about Mary's orientation. They told us they wanted snack time to be a safe and inclusive experience. Snack time! God love all the moms who petitioned peanuts out of schools to protect their baby.

The kids got sick. Then we all got sick again. I'm still coughing.

On election day, I wore my button. That night, I was glued to CNN. The United States turning redder and redder by the hour. I couldn't watch another second. I prayed and went to bed.

I woke up and cried. It wasn't so much that I loved her, but that I hated him and all that he stood for.

I texted my boss. I hugged my Nanny. I saw the Ellis girls vehemently blasting back on Facebook. I tried to turn everything off. I tried to tune everything out, but I couldn't.

I watched Mary twirl through her dance class. And we ran through the rain back to our car. NPR made me cry again. Off. I couldn't eat that night.

The next morning, I opened up Outlook and said, oh no out loud. Oh no. My Dad's painful email breaking my heart the longer it stared blankly back at me.

I cancelled my trip to South Carolina to eat more chicken strips. Mimi and Opa took the kids, and I drove to Indianapolis.

I hugged my cousin Jill. She cried into my shoulder and told me, 'that was her sweet little boy.' I watched a reel of the most strikingly handsome, athletic, good boy projecting in the room. I welled up. Another beautiful life, tragically gone too soon; my strong cousin left to pick up the pieces. I prayed for Jill, Cynthia, Danny, and Eric.

On the way back to Chicago that evening, I watched the super moon rise above the red Indiana skyline as I passed a water tower for Whitestown, USA. I thought about that safe and inclusive snack policy again.

I ate more chicken strips. These have to be it. I moved my project along, step over step, step over step, waiting for doomsday.

On Wednesday morning, I didn't get to see my friends go. They were called into a room, and they were out the door. Their empty desks where we used to vent, argue, create, and laugh left behind. They were the good guys my co-worker told me. Yes they were.

I almost cried at my desk, feeling alone in the middle of a changing, despairing office place.

I picked Mary up from dance class. I hugged her and Bobby a little harder than usual.

We listened to Christmas music prematurely as we drove home. It didn't seem out of place at all. It made me smile, and sing, and live in the moment. I told myself things were going to be okay. They have to be.

I reminded myself who is ultimately in charge. How there's an order and a plan. And how we'll all be around his big, safe and inclusive banquet table someday.

Onward to Thanksgiving, a holiday that I need more than ever this year. 

Lo.

Tink or Treat

On Monday night, Mary had lined up three unwrapped, half eaten lollipops on a plate, and she was taking a dip into her trick or treat bucket for yet another one. 'Mary you're going to get sick,' I told her. Bobby asked me for more chocolate, MORE chocolate. I said fine, one more. And that's it. You are going to get sick! When the candy pleas recommenced five minutes later, I cut them off. You are all going to throw up, no more candy tonight. Peter, hide the buckets.

The kicker ... who ended up getting sick? Me.

It wasn't from lollipops, or running from house to house while eating my tenth piece of candy, it was from some terrible virus that kept me in bed for about 36 hours.

So with work stressing me out, and ongoing illness recovery, I decided the pictures would have to carry the weight of my Halloween entry.

The events leading up to Halloween; Mary's Dance class performing Fright Night, her school's Halloween parade, our community's Halloween Bash, arts and crafts, pumpkin carving, and the frightening live surprise I found in our faux spider webs on Monday afternoon.

Then Halloween night; Mary bouncing from house to house, confidently ringing door bells with a polite trick or treat, helping her brother step up to the plate to get his fair share of loot. Daddy's costume, my silver tray lined with full sized candy bars, the teen boys who had been mapping their ideal route for weeks, confirming to their friends, 'this is the house!' The sheer number of trick or treaters parading down our street this year because of the beautiful weather. All awesome.

Halloween like all holidays with the kids didn't disappoint, and looking back on the pictures definitely makes sick days more bearable.

Lo.

A Good City

As early voting starts across America, and my newsfeed becomes increasingly populated with passionate partisan declarations, I feel like I should make an endorsesment of my own.

My personal diatribe could take days to craft though, and with two small children just waking up, and a stressful job to prepare for today, I don't have time to wrestle through a verbalization of my political point of view. I doubt that you care anyway.

Here's my thing though, when you a white, Catholic, driven working mom who lives in Mayberry, collaborates with small business owners from across the country every day, has toured the farms and factories and met the people of Illinois, Eastern Kentucky and Oklahoma City that supply the mass food industry, analyze how commodity pricing and trade credits will affect the launch of your next chicken initiative, prepare freshly hunted wild duck for dinner in the fall, have a cousin who is a Major in the U.S. Army, a mom serving on the Bench, a father bridging the many gaps in healthcare, a marriage into the community banking industry, a husband who has actually charted climate change as an oceanographer, family on the far right, and friends that lean farther left, and you truly stop and listen to everyone's unique beef with our country today, the sound judgment you thought you had can suddenly seem flawed.

What I have learned by forming my own internal debates this election season, is there is no easy solution for the systemic issues we face today. Life is so utterly complicated, and governing all the lives, liberties, and pursuits of happiness that make up the fabric of this country is a near impossible duty.

For instance, when debating the challenges and opportunities of Obamacare with my Father in Law the other night, in response to my statement that it is not one person or entities' fault, he asked me, 'then how would you solve it?

My short answer, 'I don't know.'

***

So with that, I'll direct the rest of my election season coverage to employing one optimistic idea of our country that helped me brush aside all the negative rhetoric and confirm my faith and hope in the American people.

In between the 4th and 5th inning (or thereabouts in case my brother corrects me) of the Cubs / Dodgers game, Hillary addressed the public in the third presidential debate with a quote that I believe will become iconic. She said, "America is great, because America is good."

Because we had to switch back to FS1 to see KB, Rizzo and Zobrist bat, I missed the following statements she made, and Trump's rebuttal. It very likely went south from there, but like her or not, the sound bite stuck with me.

Living in a city that can get a bad wrap; murder and crime rates, corruption and waste, unemployment and bankruptcy, the occasional 'loser', all the proof points that the rogue Republican highlights in his tweets; I can't help but see the good, especially in this historic Cubs post season.

From the melting pot of urban dwellers living underneath our beautiful skyline illuminated in red and blue for the Cubbies to the hearty farmers working the corn and soy fields in the rural landscape that encircle the city limits ...

       
From our pristine Lake to the millions of people who run, walk and bike along it each year.
From dumplings, to pierogies, to raviolis, empanadas, enchiladas, and spanokopita.
From fried chicken picnics along the shore to Italian Beef and Mario's Italian Ice on Taylor Street to that perfectly stuffed hot dog at Wrigley.
From the museums, theaters, churches, and galleries, to the posh shopping along the Magnificent Mile.
From the bad Bears, to the better Blackhawks, on to the awesome (and oh so cute) roster of the Cubs.
From the die hard fans, to the fair weather ones.
From our neighborhoods, even the roughest ones, to our neighbors.
I see a whole lot of good, and a whole lot of progress. It's the kind of good that makes America a great place to live, work, and raise a family.

This past weekend, after gathering apples at Honey Hill Orchard in Dekalb, Illinois the weekend before, we broke out the Cider Press again. Neighbors, friends, and family came over to help us crush Empire, Macintosh, Yellow Delicious, and Honeycrisp into fall's sweet syrup. The kids, the weather, the memories of pressing cider with Grandpa Barry and my cousins, the line up of new little hands holding their cups under the tap, all great.

There is no doubt, that all corners of America need help and equal opportunity to jobs, homes, healthcare, education, and safety above all. But there is also no denying that America and the vast majority of its people are good. We just need great leadership to bring us together. And I wonder if it will take the next generation to truly do this.

Lo.