This month we had to say goodbye to our good friends who are moving away. This couple, who have lived in apartments throughout their marriage, recently had a baby daughter and are looking to put down roots. The wife's parents live in Florida and happen to own another house on the same street. Thus, our friends are flying the Illinoisan coop and making a nest down south.
We are sad to see them go, but the wonderful aspect of this day and age is that we can still witness their daughter as she grows up and vice versa, due to technology and social media. Plus, the upside is that we can visit them! We are already penciled in for Spring Break 2014.
Our friends aren't the only ones who are depending upon family to start new chapters of their lives. We know another couple who just had their second baby and will be moving out of Chicago and back to our suburban hometown, where we all grew up. The husband's mom still owns a house there. An older son resided there for over a decade, but he has generously given up his living situation in favor of his brother and family. One of the only things I miss about our former town is the people there!
Similarly, Bruce works with a friend who is in the process of buying a house. While she and her husband are sorting out all the details and paperwork (Housebuying bureaucracy is the worst. Don't I know it!), they are planning to move in with her mom - for the second time in their relationship - because their apartment lease is up.
My mom came over the other day to help out with Emmie when I wasn't feeling well. She will infrequently come to my aid but must make me feel bad about it while she's doing it. She chided, "You need to learn how to rely on yourself. When I was raising you and your brother, I didn't have anyone."
I pointed out, that's because my father's family lived on the other side of the world, and she didn't have a healthy relationship with her own family.
My mother's values were formed by her past and the way she raised us. I know she loves Emmie, and in the time she spends with her, she shows it in her own way. Yet I disagree with her. One of the strongest ways to exemplify love is to help one another, to give selflessly of our time and resources. Bruce's parents did by letting us move in with them for a year, though it was admittedly awkward for everyone. It was also an amazing way for them to spend time with their first grandchild. They miss her so much now, they jump at the chance to babysit. That was an unforeseen perk of moving out!
Every young parent I know has family support. Their parents, siblings, cousins - all assist one another. And it goes both ways. Your grandma watches your kid while you're at work, you help her clean out her garage. Your parents take your baby for a weekend so you can have grownup time, you come over to their house early and lend a hand with preparing Christmas dinner. Your sister carpools your children, you carpool hers.
Maybe in our culture we don't all live on the same land like a tribe, but we are still part of a bond that goes back to the birth of humanity. I think that the economic downturn really brought this point back to a large portion of our society's collective consciousness. When we don't have enough money to live independently, we learn to lean on others again. We don't always have to be focused on ourselves, on our individual lives. We have family.
It's okay to need people.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Mom's Night In
Yes! Tonight the house is all mine, baby! Or, should I say, no baby! This week I've been getting a little frazzled with non-stop toddler time, so Bruce proposed taking Emmie over to his folks' house for dinner, so I could have a few hours of me-time.
I just ran to the store and bought a bag of potato chips and a bottle of wine, ha! The clerk, who rings me up all the time, carded me! She's never done that before. I guess when I don't have a baby on my hip I look younger. Bonus experience!
I'm going to make junk food for dinner, eat it wherever I feel like, maybe while surfing the internet, who knows? I'll play music loud and get a little wine-buzz on and write poems in a notebook. It's going to be fantastic.
It's funny to think that less than a year ago, I savored the fleeting moments alone with Bruce and/or Emmie, sans in-laws. Now I'm extra selfish, needing some time to myself entirely. Well, I don't feel too bad. A month ago Bruce and a friend had a guys' trip up to Milwaukee to go to a concert. They got a hotel room, went to the bar and drank beer, rocked out at the show, went back and ordered a pizza. So, I figure, this is my turn.
Anyways, gotta go. My loving husband and daughter will be back before I know it. Time to let loose, solo style!
I just ran to the store and bought a bag of potato chips and a bottle of wine, ha! The clerk, who rings me up all the time, carded me! She's never done that before. I guess when I don't have a baby on my hip I look younger. Bonus experience!
I'm going to make junk food for dinner, eat it wherever I feel like, maybe while surfing the internet, who knows? I'll play music loud and get a little wine-buzz on and write poems in a notebook. It's going to be fantastic.
It's funny to think that less than a year ago, I savored the fleeting moments alone with Bruce and/or Emmie, sans in-laws. Now I'm extra selfish, needing some time to myself entirely. Well, I don't feel too bad. A month ago Bruce and a friend had a guys' trip up to Milwaukee to go to a concert. They got a hotel room, went to the bar and drank beer, rocked out at the show, went back and ordered a pizza. So, I figure, this is my turn.
Anyways, gotta go. My loving husband and daughter will be back before I know it. Time to let loose, solo style!
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Summer Lovin'
The weather here has been truly gorgeous the last week or so. Our family has been spending as much time as possible out-of-doors. In the mornings, Emmie and I go to mom-and-tot swim lessons. For half an hour, we sing and splash and move around in the water with other babies.
We come home, have lunch together, and then she takes a nap. In the afternoon, we play out back together. Sometimes we go in her baby pool. Or I work on the yard while she goes down her slide, colors on the patio with chalk, or escapes to her playhouse.
When Bruce gets home, I fix dinner. I've been cooking with the Thai basil and mint that we potted. I've never had my own outdoor plants before. As a child, when my mother would fix supper, she'd ask me to go out in the yard and pick some of the ingredients. Now as an adult, I am reminded of that as I select just the right leaves, the fragrance of the herbs wafting up towards me and staining my fingers. It's a simple pleasure.
After we eat, we try to go for a walk. We've figured out how to get to a little park nearby where the baby can swing and go down bigger slides. It's right next to the library. I can't express how ideal it is for me to be able to walk there. I'm pinching myself - it's one of those items on a highly detailed wish list I never thought I could have gotten.
To add to our location, location, location, there is a state park about 15 minutes away by car. We went there the other night and pushed Emmie in her stroller on a wooded path surrounding a large, clear lake. Then yesterday we found a small forest preserve not far away that doubles as a Frisbee golf course. Bruce used to play a lot in his early 20s, and he literally squealed when we found it. I've only very rarely seen him get that excited, like a little kid. It was awesome!
Bruce and I are both embracing the role of landowner with joy. We can easily spend an hour in the garden center/lawn section of a store. Today, while Emmie's been napping, Bruce trimmed the bushes with a dangerous-looking contraption we borrowed from his parents. I weeded the flower beds. Then Bruce ran out to buy himself a rake and me some pruning shears. We're sweaty and dirty, but we've never felt better!
 |
| Emmie helps water the plants |
We come home, have lunch together, and then she takes a nap. In the afternoon, we play out back together. Sometimes we go in her baby pool. Or I work on the yard while she goes down her slide, colors on the patio with chalk, or escapes to her playhouse.
When Bruce gets home, I fix dinner. I've been cooking with the Thai basil and mint that we potted. I've never had my own outdoor plants before. As a child, when my mother would fix supper, she'd ask me to go out in the yard and pick some of the ingredients. Now as an adult, I am reminded of that as I select just the right leaves, the fragrance of the herbs wafting up towards me and staining my fingers. It's a simple pleasure.
 |
| Emmie reads her very first library book as we walk home! |
To add to our location, location, location, there is a state park about 15 minutes away by car. We went there the other night and pushed Emmie in her stroller on a wooded path surrounding a large, clear lake. Then yesterday we found a small forest preserve not far away that doubles as a Frisbee golf course. Bruce used to play a lot in his early 20s, and he literally squealed when we found it. I've only very rarely seen him get that excited, like a little kid. It was awesome!
Bruce and I are both embracing the role of landowner with joy. We can easily spend an hour in the garden center/lawn section of a store. Today, while Emmie's been napping, Bruce trimmed the bushes with a dangerous-looking contraption we borrowed from his parents. I weeded the flower beds. Then Bruce ran out to buy himself a rake and me some pruning shears. We're sweaty and dirty, but we've never felt better!
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| This land is my land |
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Independence Day
I was texting with my friend Lorelei about how fast life can change. Last year, she was house hunting, and we were living with Bruce's parents. This year, we are all happy homeowners.
In 2012, we didn't really celebrate the 4th of July. We spent the day with Bruce's sister in Wisconsin and drove home instead of watching fireworks. Today, we spent the day at our house. It was in the mid-80's and partly cloudly. Bruce blew up Emmie's new baby pool and filled it with water in the backyard. Then Emmie and I played in it for a long time.
Bruce grilled brats and corn on the cob for dinner. We all ate on the patio, and Bruce and I sipped margaritas. We had warm apple pie a la mode for dessert.
Afterwards, we put Emmie in her stroller and walked down to the end of the neighborhood, where a big band was playing and the town had gathered for the fireworks show. We hung out for a bit and then headed back.
As we were strolling up our street, our neighbors were all out in their yards, children running free and adults holding beverages. We waved and one of the neighbors called out, "You bought the best seat in the house!" Confirming our suspicions that we would have a good view of the show.
When the sun had long passed the western horizon and the heavens had darkened a deep blue, the fireworks began! It was incredible. We could see everything!
Emmie sat in my lap and kept repeating, "Wow!" We sat in chairs on our own lawn, enjoying. Just the three of us. While Emmie was experiencing her first 4th of July fireworks show, Bruce and I were witnessing the spectacular result of our own American dream.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Don't Judge Me, Beatrix Potter
One day, Bruce and Emmie let me sleep in. When I came downstairs, Bruce had a very somber face.
"I saw a rat outside," he said gravely.
He went on to tell me that it was white, huge, and not too creepy. But it was a problem that needed to be taken care of.
I knew what he meant. But I love all animals, so I tried to make excuses. "Maybe it was an escaped pet... Maybe there's a scientific lab somewhere nearby and PETA came along and freed all the animals."
Bruce looked at me sadly, and we didn't talk about it again.
Until today. Emmie was napping, Bruce is at work, and the cat and I stood gazing out the patio door. Then we saw an adorable grey and white whiskered creature with perky pinks ears nibbling in our garden.
After taking a photo, I opened the patio door, and he scurried away, under our fence and over into the neighbor's yard.
I called Bruce and told him. Again, he repeated his stance that the pest must be eliminated.
"It's not like it's the 1300s and there's a plague going on," I pleaded. (In fact, scholars now contend that rats were not the cause of the Black Death). I continued, "Rats are very smart; I just read an article about how they're gaining in popularity as pets."
I hate to think what Bruce is going to do about the rats. What's the point? After all, we live in town, near fast food restaurants and apartment buildings with dumpsters. When we lived in Chicago, there were rats, but somehow them scurrying about in alleys seemed more natural than our lush backyard. I will admit that it sort of gives me the heebie-jeebies, despite how cute the little guy was.
Later, Emmie and I were sharing lunch when another varmint hopped on over, munching on my lawn.
This time, I wheeled Emmie in her highchair closer to the door so we could see better. "Aww!" I exclaimed. "See the bunny? How cute!" Emmie started tsk-tsking (that's the sound she makes when she sees bunnies, I don't know why, you can thank Bruce for that) and pointing at the rabbit.
We watched him for a while until he bounced away, white cottontail swishing behind him.
It made me pleased to be living in the country, where we are closer to nature - exactly the opposite feeling I had about the rat.
Which got me thinking. Poor rats. Perhaps they are unfairly persecuted, the pigeons of the small & furry family. I know some people scorn any kind of beasts in their gardens, but rats seem to be disproportionately despised. Why do I want to pet a bunny or feed a chipmunk an acorn, but the thought of a rat makes my skin crawl?
I don't know what Bruce is planning to do; I need to hear his logic before I jump on the death-to-rats platform. I'll tell you what, though. I never thought being a homeowner would turn us into killers.
"I saw a rat outside," he said gravely.
He went on to tell me that it was white, huge, and not too creepy. But it was a problem that needed to be taken care of.
I knew what he meant. But I love all animals, so I tried to make excuses. "Maybe it was an escaped pet... Maybe there's a scientific lab somewhere nearby and PETA came along and freed all the animals."
Bruce looked at me sadly, and we didn't talk about it again.
.JPG) |
| Do you see him? Oh, rats. |
After taking a photo, I opened the patio door, and he scurried away, under our fence and over into the neighbor's yard.
I called Bruce and told him. Again, he repeated his stance that the pest must be eliminated.
"It's not like it's the 1300s and there's a plague going on," I pleaded. (In fact, scholars now contend that rats were not the cause of the Black Death). I continued, "Rats are very smart; I just read an article about how they're gaining in popularity as pets."
I hate to think what Bruce is going to do about the rats. What's the point? After all, we live in town, near fast food restaurants and apartment buildings with dumpsters. When we lived in Chicago, there were rats, but somehow them scurrying about in alleys seemed more natural than our lush backyard. I will admit that it sort of gives me the heebie-jeebies, despite how cute the little guy was.
Later, Emmie and I were sharing lunch when another varmint hopped on over, munching on my lawn.
.JPG) |
| Peter! Did you lose your coat again in Mr. McGregor's garden? |
We watched him for a while until he bounced away, white cottontail swishing behind him.
It made me pleased to be living in the country, where we are closer to nature - exactly the opposite feeling I had about the rat.
Which got me thinking. Poor rats. Perhaps they are unfairly persecuted, the pigeons of the small & furry family. I know some people scorn any kind of beasts in their gardens, but rats seem to be disproportionately despised. Why do I want to pet a bunny or feed a chipmunk an acorn, but the thought of a rat makes my skin crawl?
I don't know what Bruce is planning to do; I need to hear his logic before I jump on the death-to-rats platform. I'll tell you what, though. I never thought being a homeowner would turn us into killers.
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