Our House (Is a Very, Very, Very Fine House)

Nonmatching, noisy old dishwasher

Stainless, quiet new dishwasher

Mr. DIY

When we bought the house, there was no refrigerator, washer, or dryer.  We did become the proud owners of a 20 year-old dishwasher and a stove that looks older than the house itself.  We immediately bought a new stainless steel refrigerator.  We were given a washer, and I've recalled the saga of our dryer here.  Three down, two to go.  

The thing is, the stove works fine, so besides aesthetic reasons, we really don't need a new one.  At first, the dishwasher was still somewhat acceptable, though we quickly got into the habit of pre-washing all our dishes in the sink before loading the dishwasher.  What a waste of water!

Bruce works for a company that sells warranties, so sensing that the dishwasher wasn't going to last forever, he purchased one.  Sure enough, in the last month, the soap starting caking up on the inside door and the dishes came out looking the same as when they went in.  That was the last straw, the day I had to hand wash a full dishwasher's worth of dishes.  We called the repairman, whose costs are covered by the warranty.  He literally took one look at it and deemed it irreparable.  The warranty stipulates that if your appliance is not worth fixing, they would reimburse for up to $400 towards a new one.  We went out and got a new one that same night, realizing that the 4th of July sales were prime time for shopping.

We rented a truck from the store to bring the dishwasher home.  Bruce decided to save the installation expense and do it himself.  I watched from the kitchen table as he took out the old dishwasher and patiently hooked up the new one.  This is the guy who just a few years back hated reading instructions and got totally grouchy trying to put together our new range grill on the eve of my 30th birthday.  Since becoming homeowners, he's changed our bathroom's shower head, put in our bedroom ceiling fan, attached a dryer, and now he's installed a dishwasher.  I don't want to reinforce gender stereotypes, but being handy is a very attractive trait in a husband!

Baby, You're a Firework

Last year, we discovered that one of the perks of owning this home is its fabulous fireworks-viewing location.  We wanted to have a 4th of July party this year, but because I'm working the retail job, I knew I wouldn't be able to get the holiday off.  I requested to work a day shift, and we settled for having a less formal party of close friends and family.  While I was at work, Bruce got the house ready.  His parents picked me up from work and took me home.

My brother and sister-in-law were already over, my bro cooking ribs on the grill out back.  Bruce prepared the brats and burgers while I made a watermelon and avocado salad I found online.  Bruce's mom made a fruit and marshmallow flag (Emmie ate practically the whole thing), and a friend brought a gluten-free fruit and brownie "pizza."  Yum.

My parents came over, too.  My parents and my in-laws haven't really socialized, except for during our wedding events, the baby shower, and Emmie's birthday parties, so I wondered how it would go over in the more intimate setting of a small get-together.  It was fine! Not too awkward at all.  The best part was Emmie getting to have both sets of grandparents in one place.  She was the center of attention.

After a couple hours of eating, listening to music outside, and playing bean bag toss, dusk set in and the fireworks began.  We were all very impressed with our little town's display.  Emmie appreciated them even more than last year, though she was easily distracted from the sky by her glow-in-the-dark bracelets.  Her grandpas alternated holding her, and we all enjoyed the show.

Viewing fireworks from the backyard (this pic doesn't do it justice)

Part of me couldn't help thinking that our house might not be the biggest, or newest, or in a posh neighborhood, but one day out of the year it's the best spot in town.

House Plans

My sister-in-law, always generous and thoughtful, got me gift cards for my birthday so I could continue refining my home improvement vision.  But what should I get?  Here's my latest wish list (see my Pinterest for details):

• Bamboo shades for the living room to replace faded hunter green roman shades
• White wood blinds for our bedroom and Emmie's, as miniblinds have been trashed by toddler/cat
• Light grey paint for two bathrooms (downstairs is currently forest green and our tiny master bath is a dark teal, which makes it feel cave-like)
• White floating shelves for master bath
• Welcome mat for front stoop
• New art or picture frames
• Backsplash tiles for kitchen
• Glass shelves for kitchen window above sink
• Lavender plants

Then there are the things we need that aren't very fun: fire extinguisher, new mailbox (the door rusted off the hinge on the old one), mulch, window well covers.  The list of projects goes on and on!  But I guess that's the beauty of being a homeowner.

America

Happy 4th of July!

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

It was my birthday last week, and the one thing I wanted more than anything was to take Emmie to her first Chicago Cubs baseball game.

I come from a family of Cubs fans, and have wonderful recollections tied to the team and to the iconic Wrigley Field.  My maternal grandparents always had the game on the TV in their living room, Harry Caray's boozy, fervent voice mixed in with all of ours.  My uncle on my father's side lived in Lakeview, and we'd always pass Wrigley Field on our way to Broadway and Argyle St., where our preferred Asian grocery store was.  I remember gazing up through the car window at the old-fashioned marquee in awe.

When I was a preteen, the movie Rookie of the Year was filmed at Wrigley.  The company my father worked for was asked to participate as extras.  My dad, mom, brother, and I sat in the bleachers along with hundreds of others.  The scene was of Henry Rowengartner hitting a home run.  There was no actual ball flying over us, but we were instructed to stand up all at once, turn our heads to the right, and then cheer as it soared out of the park.  We did it over and over.  Unfortunately, that scene was cut from the final version.  Regardless, it is a happy memory, and we each got a souvenir Cubs travel mug.

Bruce is also from a hardcore Cubs family.  The story goes that Bruce's grandfather was listening to a Cubs game on the radio when the Cubs blew the lead in the 9th inning, and he had a fatal heart attack.  It's sad to think of the myriad generations of fans who never got to see their favorite team win a World Series.

Win or lose, we love the Cubs.  Bruce and I have attended countless games together and with friends.  When we lived in the city, we were a short walk away up Sheridan Rd. in the Uptown neighborhood.  Since I have a summer birthday, we've celebrated many times at Wrigley Field.  The day we got married, the Cubs won against the Cardinals, one of our biggest rivals.  The two days after we returned from our honeymoon, we went to Cubs games.  For our first anniversary, we went to a Cubs game.  You get the idea.  We've sat in pretty much every section of the park, including the suites, thanks to Bruce's godfather who has business perks.

Since moving to the suburbs, the change to our financial situation, and having baby, we've gone to way less games in the past few years.  Last season was the first time in almost ten years we didn't go even once.  So of course, my top priority was taking Emmie this year.

My amazing, kind, thoughtful friends who still live in the city know a guy with season tickets.  He wasn't going to the night game of last Saturday's doubleheader against the Washington Nationals, so my friends bought the tickets off of him for my birthday present.  I was overjoyed!  Bruce, Emmie, and I got all dressed up in our Cubs shirts and blue and red baseball caps.  We drove down to the city and met our friends, who still live in our old neighborhood.  From there, we pushed Emmie in her stroller the same way would would walk long before she was born.  We pointed out our old apartments, and as we entered Wrigleyville, she was thrilled to notice all the other Cubs fans and the organ music resonating throughout.

Since Emmie is 2 years old, she gets free admission at Wrigley.  We heard from other parents that this could be a difficult age to try and take her to a game, but we were determined to try.  Since we only had two tickets, we were prepared for her to sit awkwardly in our laps, to have to get up often, and inevitably have to leave early.

Showing off our family brick outside Wrigley

One of the greatest excitements for me is first walking in to Wrigley.  There's people everywhere, taking pictures with the sculptures outside, milling about, lining up at the gates.  You can hear the organ playing inside, but also the unavoidable drum circle kids, the high-pitched beeping of the ticket reading machines, and as you enter, the sound of Cubs radio sportscaster Pat Hughes over the sound system.  You first smell the delectable sweetness of grilled onions, over the faint mustiness of a century of American baseball history.  Everyone starts off with high spirits.  You can feel it all around you.  

Emmie's eyes were wide, taking it all in.  She had me acting as cheerleader next to her, pointing out stuff, exclaiming, "You see that, Emmie?  Isn't that cool?  Oh, wow!" The whole time.  We checked her stroller at the Fan Services counter, and held her hand tightly as we navigated the throng of attendees.  We found our seats along the first base line just underneath the terrace.  The stands weren't full, and our row was nearly empty, so we each had a place to sit!

We stood and listened to "The Star-Spangled Banner."  I read there was no point in explaining the game to a toddler; it would be a few years before she could begin to understand the rules.  Nevertheless, she liked watching the pitcher throw the ball, the batters hit it and then run the bases.  It was a beautiful evening for baseball.  The sky was a pretty blue and puffy white clouds drifted lazily across.  In the fourth inning, Luis Valbuena hit a two-run homer to tie the game!

Not only were the seats great, but we were lucky to have this chatty guy behind us who's had season tickets for the past thirty years.  He told us many tips we would've never known, like where the cleanest bathroom is.  He reminded us that there's an upper deck patio where we could take Emmie once she became restless, which we did.

Up there we ate nachos and witnessed the sky darkening down by the Loop.

We got back to our seats just before the rain. People below us and in the bleachers scattered, but we were safe and dry.

After a few minutes, it was raining buckets, and the field was getting soaked.  Emmie looked on with fascination as the grounds crew rolled out the tarps.  I wasn't even disappointed that we were in a rain delay.  It was fun for Emmie to see the water pouring down.

The guy behind us also told us about the "First Timer's Certificates" we could get for Emmie, just down the stairs at a booth in the concourse.  What a neat keepsake from the game!  I had no idea they did that.

It's no secret that this Chicago girl loves a good hot dog.  Since it's the centennial celebration of Wrigley Field, they are selling specialty fare to commemorate every past decade in the stand called "Decade Dogs."  Bruce and I split the 1970's Pulled Pork Dog and the 1950's TV Dinner Dog.  Messy, but delicious!  We washed them down with some cold ones.

To save money, we brought a PBJ and snacks for Emmie.  It's not well known that you are allowed to bring in sealed non-alcoholic beverages and food to Wrigley.

After about an hour, the rain slowed, and the game started up again, but the Cubs couldn't get back into it.  The Nationals got some runs, and it didn't look good for our guys.  Emmie was rubbing her eyes and yawning.  It was time to go.  At the top of the sixth, we began to make our way, but had one last stop - to see Clark the Cub, the new Cubs mascot.  We visited his new clubhouse.  Emmie was enamored with him!  We all posed for pictures with him, Emmie with a huge grin on her face.  We got her a Clark shirt two sizes too big so that she could wear it for a couple years.

As we were leaving Wrigley Field, we could hear the crowd singing along to "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." The sun had set, and the lights had gone on, illuminating the stadium and the scoreboard from our view on Waveland Ave.  I have no idea who officially sang the seventh-inning stretch that night.  All I could hear was my daughter, who recently memorized the words to the song she will hopefully be singing for a lifetime.

Absolutely, us true fans want to see the Cubs win.  But the reason why the Cubs are loved so unconditionally, why we say we "bleed Cubbie blue," has to do with faith, tradition, and family.  It is moments like these, shared from one generation to the next, that course through our veins.

Go Cubbies.