Category: Family

My fishermans

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Maria and her catch

We drove to Big Mario’s and Vicki’s house last weekend and fished down on their dock.  The entire trip out to Mario’s and Vicki’s house, little Mario talked about catching a fish.  He remembers Jon telling him that the fish don’t bite when it is the middle of the afternoon because it is too hot and they stay far under the water to keep cool.  Therefore, we have to wait until dinner time to go down to the dock with our nets and poles to catch fish.  I think fishing is Mario’s favorite activity at this time in his life – it probably even beats basketball.  He just loves everything about it – putting bait on the pole, watching for a fish to bite, holding the fish in the net, measuring its size, and like every good fisherman, bragging about how big the fish was after the fact.  Maria loves to head down to the dock, too, but her tolerance level is much lower, especially after she catches one (that activity is complete – onto the next (a lot like her mom)). 

 When we got to the dock, the sun was still beaming.  Mario and Jon worked on the fishing poles and bait while Maria and I sat on the dock and looked out at the water.  I asked her “pluses” while we waited (8+2 =..; 9+4=..).  She loves to work on math problems.  Jon and Mario finished and brought Maria a fishing pole.  Within five minutes of Jon casting it, Maria caught the first fish of the evening – a huge catfish with whiskers as long as pencils.  Mario immediately wailed: “Not fair, I didn’t get one yet!”  Maria consoled him and patted him on the back telling him “Don’t  worry little brother, you will get one soon.”  Because Maria had gotten her catch, she decided to leave her pole stranded and head back to the house. 

Mario holding his catch

My fisherman

As I walked her off the dock, I heard Jon yelling for me and turned around to see him trying to handle Mario’s pole and Maria’s.  There were good-sized catfish pulling on both of them.  Mario was beside himself yelling at Jon to get them out of the water.  Mario held the net with one of the catfish in it while Jon worked on getting the other free from the hook in its mouth.  Maria and I cringed while watching Jon but Mario just ate it up.  Maria told Jon “get that fish away from me.” Mario immediately chimed back “Get that fish towards me!” 

He begged Jon to let him fish some more.  After about ten more minutes, he pulled out a blue gill.  This one was more his size and he stood by it proud as a papa with his newborn son.  He begged for more but the mosquitos were biting like mad.  When we got to the house, he announced his accomplishments.  He exaggerated the size of both the catfish and the blue gill.  Everyone gave him a high-five and he slapped their palms hard with a smug little look on his face.  My little fisherman.

Chillin’ at the Creek

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We woke up last Sunday morning and engaged in an old ritual – donuts from Tim Horton’s.  The kids were able to wear only their nighties as we strolled down to the donut shop.  They have not been able to do that for eight months.   We decided as we chowed down on our timbits that we would head to Battelle Darby Creek in the afternoon.  The kids went there with their Peepaw earlier in the week and loved it. 

Lookin' good for the creek

As soon as we got home, Maria and I stuffed our backpacks full of random eats, water, and towels.  The kids wore their bathing suits under their clothes with the hopes we could get into the creek.  With all of the rain, I was worried that it would be too swollen and rushing.  With sunglasses and sunscreen on, we hopped in the car and headed west.  The creek was only 20 minutes away and as we pulled up, Maria shouted “this is where we parked with Peepaw.”  My dad knew she would remember everything when I asked him for directions, where to park, and where to enter.   

We hit the Overlook Trail first because it was only about 600 feet total in length.  We learned about the glaciers that used to inhabit this part of Ohio and how they created the valley we saw below.  Later in the trip, Maria asked “can we see the glaciers?”  Our next trail expanded further.  While we headed down the wood steps,

Throwing rocks and watching for water snakes!

Maria yelped.  She was just ahead of me and Mario was ahead of her.  When I glanced down at her, I saw a dark-colored snake slithering over the side of the step to the woods.  Mario was so upset he did not spot it.  Unfortunately for him, he does not have quite the eagle eyes that Maria has inherited from her dad.  I congratulated Maria on her keen eyesight and she smiled at me.  But when we got to a little pool of water, she refused to put her feet in for fear that a water snake would “kill her.”  Everywhere she stepped, she looked around her to ensure there were no snakes slithering her way.  Mario was hilarious trying to calm her down “Maria, mommy will protect you.”  “Maria, you don’t have to be scared; just throw a rock at a snake and it will go away.”  “Hold my hand Maria, I have you.” 

Maria braving the waters and Mario being way too daring!

I started to fret at the thought of having her be too scared to ever want to go in the woods again.  One of my favorite activities with the kids and that darn snake would ruin it.  But, my girl came through after we left the pool of water.  We went back to put on our shoes and clothes and keep down the trail.  Maria complained of being hungry and not wanting to see a snake but then we found a small hill that led to a gentle opening to the creek.  A family stood in the water.  Mario threw off his shoes, and ran down the hill to the water.  He picked up a stick and stood calf high in the creek.  Maria hesitated, and I held my breath, but then she walked down the hill and stood in the water with Mario.  There were two girls and a boy in the water with their mom and dad and the two girls were sitting on rocks in the water and laying on their bellies letting the creek water push them around.  That is all Maria needed.  She moved closer to them and tried it out, too.  Before I knew it, I was warning her to not go too deep.  She was cured of her water snake fear.  Mario spent the entire time using his stick as a sword and a water splashing tool.  Happily, he did not use it to hit anyone in the family next to us.

Self-timed shot after chowing on lunch

After 30 minutes in the creek, we stepped out to eat lunch on the hillside.  If I was a poet, I would have had everything I needed to write a famous poem while sitting at lunch with the kids.  As we ate our pretzels and cereal bars and cheese and crackers, a Mexican mother and four young kids arrived and jumped into the creek.  They exhibited pure, unadulterated joy as they splashed around in the water and the mom laughed while taking pictures and talking in Spanish to them.  Joy is universal.  A centipede moseyed up the tree in front of us – Maria, of course, pointed him out to us.  “Really?” I thought as I laughed about how perfect the day was turning out to be.

We were pretty exhausted when we walked out to the car (after a jaunt on the playground that has a small climbing wall – both kids scaled it like pros).  Mario wanted a movie but the movie he had chosen for the ride out to the creek was horrid – massive killing and blood.  I guess we didn’t read the rating on the movie box even though it was a PG movie and still contained all of that nastiness.  Mario was livid when I took it out on the ride over; Maria felt so bad she told me she would close her eyes and sing so that Mario could watch it.  Instead, she got to hear Mario cry and scream for 10 minutes until I said “Look at the cows out the window” and that little mind went from pissed off to amazed at the sight of bovine grazing in the field. 

Ahh, picture perfect babes.

 I really wanted a McDonald’s diet cooke and small fries and quiet for a half hour so I went all out and stopped at Giant Eagle to see if they had a movie to buy (yes, desperation!).  Besides, we needed a new movie to add to our repertoire.  Of course, they had nothing less than $24,99 and as much as I was tempted to go for it, my practical, money-conscious self could not do it.  On the way out, we saw a Red Box Video.  We see people at those boxes in Grandview all the time but we had never made the dive to do it ourselves.  We went for it and rented Toy Story 3 for $1.00.  By the time we got in the car, buckled up, and turned it on, Mario was passed out.  Maria hung in there with me but sat quietly watching the movie while I enjoyed the quiet ride home with my salty french fries. 

What a marvelous, awesome afternoon.  I have thought about that afternoon almost every day this week, especially when I started to get irritated with a colleague or a work situation.  I remember Maria lying on her belly in the water or Mario trying to skip a rock and they at the least made me smile and at times, even helped produce a significant attitude adjustment on my part.  Nourishing moments for the soul.

Running (after my sis)

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Sarah and Stella

Years ago when my younger sis (by 10 years) was in high school and deeply involved in sitting at the coffee shop with her friends philosophizing about life as she knew it at age 16, I was the workout monster in the family.  I ran, lifted weights, biked, taught aerobics.  And no one could beat me in a run.  My sis, Sarah, was known for her writing and her love of books.  One of her favorite activities was sitting in the bathtub with her favorite book and reading for two hours.  My brother loved his music, and should adore my parents for letting him spend countless hours in the basement jammin’ away on his drums and sax.  When we went on family hikes, I was the one with ten rocks in my pockets to give me an extra struggle as I climbed up a hill.

Meg and I braving the steps when we visited for Sarah's wedding

Then my sis grew up.  And as she aged, she found a love for running.  Afterall, she has the perfect runner shape – 100 pounds when wet and just tiny!  Her running has been a constant for her as she traveled to different countries and engaged with new people and new work.  I will never forget going to Oaxaca, Mexico to visit her.  She had told me about a course that she ran almost daily with her dog, Stella.  I couldn’t wait to check it out when I arrived.  The first morning after I landed, we awoke to a gorgeous 65 degree day.  She asked if I was ready to go.  ‘Of course”, I thought. 

We walked to the steps that we had to climb to get to the path that led to the trail.  I had heard rumors about these steps from Meg and my dad who had visited Sarah earlier in the year.  “Horrid” and “killer” were adjectives I remember hearing upon their return.  We ran up all of them (at least 150) to a plateau that overlooked some of Oaxaca.  “Ok”, I thought, “I can hang although my heart was beating quite fast.  We continued up a brick path to the trail.  One long hill.  When we got to the trail, I was again winded but continued to smile and assure Sarah I was ok.  Then, the trail.  Heaven help me.  Every time you thought you had reached the top, you found out it was just a short plateau with more hill up ahead.  I was sweating through every pore of my body, and my legs burned like they had been thrown in a fire pit.   

I thought “I have met my match.”

When Sar and I returned home, I laid on the bed massaging my legs and getting my breathing back to normal.  It was at that moment that I knew my reign as workout monster of the Menkedick family was, if not over, at least shared with my sis. 

Sar and I on a bus trip in Oaxaca

So, it is that realization and determination to keep up with her that led me to agree to run the Columbus Marathon with her in October.  She is already cranking out 10-15 miles with no problem.  I have been trying to run more on the mornings that Jon is home and I am able to get out.  I used to run 3-5 miles and then spend a decent amount of time lifting at the gym.  Now, I am running 6-10 and doing less lifting.  I went out this morning and took the bike course downtown and back for ten miles.  In the beginning of the run, you always feel so strong and so free – zoning out to NPR and thinking about events from the past week, what you have going on in the future (a side note – for a mom of two, this freedom and time away is crucial).  By the middle of the run, when you are farthest away from the house, you start to wonder why you went so far and your legs start to wonder with you.  By the end of the run, you just keep repeating “You can do it. You can do it. Don’ think about it anymore, just keep going.”  Then you finish.  And you have that gratification down in the deepest part of your soul that you completed what you set out to complete.  Your body feels wasted and tired but also surprisingly refreshed – you worked all of those toxins out and as spent as you are, you are also so alive.

Nonetheless, as much as I appreciate the thrill of a good, long run, that good, long run has consisted of 10 miles – not 26.  I am not so headstrong to go the 26 in October if I am hurting (my IT band has not been cooperating with me lately).  Of course, I am fully aware that because I am a Menkedick, I can talk the talk now but come race day, I will need to be completely unable to stand on my legs before I will give up. 

I will just have to depend on that little sis of mine to take care of me.

Shout out to Moms

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M&M hanging with their mama

Mother’s Day is this weekend.  I hope for a few hours to veg alone either at Stauf’s or on a massage table or on a run along the river.  I hope for nothing more than a couple of home-made pictures from M&M telling me that I am the bomb and that I am super cool. 

I remember reading Anne Lamott’s piece on Mother’s Day (Why I hate Mother\’s Day) a year or so ago.  My girlfriend at the time was contemplating whether to have a child – she is a professional with a good job, husband, house, dogs and she is heavily involved in the community. 

In thinking about her dilemma, I thought about what M&M have brought to my life.  Can I imagine life without them now?  No way.  Could I have imagined life without kids before I had them.  Probably.  It would have allowed me to get more involved in the community, go to events I wanted to attend whenever I wanted to do so, get up in the morning and go for a long run, have more freedom to do just what I desired.  Now I have to adjust my schedule for the kids and give up on events and gatherings that I would otherwise be inclined to attend because I want to be with M&M (and when I don’t to be with them particularly, I feel obliged to be!).  I would never regret the decision to have my munchballs – they fill me with joy and amazement and good times – but I do believe that a person can decide to forego the baby route and still lead a fulfilling, complete life as Anne Lamott argues in her piece.  My girlfriend ended up going the baby route and she has her ups and downs and her frustrations like all of us moms do.  And I know that she does not regret her decision but I am sure there are those days that we all have where we daydream about all we were able to do in this world “pre-baby.”

Me and my girls with sweet baby Grace

I don’t mind the idea of a Mother’s Day celebration or any “Hallmark” celebration for that matter.  We lead such hectic lives that if it takes a special day to make us slow down to recognize the people who mean the most to us, why not?  Earlier today, I watched the newscasters on NBC became emotional when looking back at their moms’ presence in their lives.  As much as I wanted to roll my eyes at this manufactured sentimentality, I found myself thinking about the women in my life and feeling appreciation and gratitude for their presence in my life.  In the end, it is those moments we have throughout our days that keep us plugging along the bumpy road that life can bring us. 

I hope that my mom realizes how much I love her in spite of our battles throughout high school and college.  I now look back at those spats and my anger and frustration and don’t see the woman I saw through my 17 year-old eyes; rather, I see a woman who was full of passion and wonder and yearning to try to find herself and the life that she wanted to live –

My mom and Ri

very similar to the struggle I face in juggling motherhood, my job, being a wife and a member of my community.  Now she has stepped into the grandma role helping me raise M&M and giving me a sounding board whenever I struggle with work issues or anxiety about whether I am damaging my children.  She has reinforced in me that I am a strong, intelligent woman, and she has always supported me.   

Meg and Ri

      

I hope that my stepmom realizes how much I love her for sticking with our crazy clan during the roughest of times (me as a teenager and Sarah as a toddler – god help her).  Meg-pie walks to her own tune refusing to conform to any norm.  She exudes confidence and strength and has always provided support and comfort to me in the worst of times (between breaking up with my high school boyfriend to managing a rogue boss).  She has taught me to always question and to always wonder – as hard and taxing as it may be at times – it’s the only way to grow. 

Patty with M&M

I hope that Patty realizes how much I love her for being a warm, dynamic mom to Jon and providing him with the skills and compassion to be such a loving father to M&M.  Patty exudes energy and has a zest for life that challenges my energy (and we’re thirty years apart!).  She has gone to the limits for M&M taking them for days at a time and playing with them for hours on end.  She gives her whole self to her family, and never declines a chance to spend time with us.  Her spirit is infectious. 

Great Grandma!

I hope that my Grandma Menkedick realizes how much I love her because she is an amazing, incredible, persevering woman who has made a mark on me that serves me well every day of my life (my late Grandma Heile also serves the same role for me).  G-ma teaches me to be humble and gracious and to stand up for myself.  She is the first one to tell me that I need to tell my boss that I won’t work late hours; tell M&M that bedtime is at 9 pm and there will be no getting out of bed; and make my body take some rest time.  She keeps me in line and she reminds me of the power of living in the moment and appreciating the small things be it vegetables ripe from the field or watching late-night tv on the couch with a glass of coke and Pringles.

I have been lucky to have so many strong, energetic, passionate players in my life, many of them women. As Anne Lamott states:

“The main thing that ever helped mothers was other people mothering them; a chain of mothering that keeps the whole shebang afloat. I am the woman I grew to be partly in spite of my mother, and partly because of the extraordinary love of her best friends, and my own best friends’ mothers, and from surrogates, many of whom were not women at all but gay men. I have loved them my entire life, even after their passing.”

So on this Mother’s Day, I give a shout out to all of those women and the many others who have marked my life – thanks for bringing me the experiences that have led me to who I am today.  I love you all.

My baby girl turns 6

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Maria Grace turned 6 yesterday at 2:41 pm.  I still remember her birth like it happened this afternoon. I remember how nervous but excited I was to have her through natural childbirth, aka, no drugs.  Mom had me that way, Meg had Jackson that way.  I wanted to follow in their giant footsteps.  Actually, the thought of getting a needle as long as a pencil shot into my back and losing all sensation from the waist down terrified me 10 times as much as the thought of foregoing drugs.  

I got pretty cocky in the delivery room for a while after they broke my water.  The contractions were uncomfortable but tolerable.  I remember looking at my mom and Jon and bragging “this isn’t too bad.”  And within minutes after that brash declaration, the universe shifted in ways only a momma in childbirth can understand.  Excruciating pain.  Sharp wrenching cramps.  Uncontrollable urges to bear down with nurses chanting “do not push yet.” I kept thinking to myself “if I have to tolerate this for 30 minutes, I will die.”  Luckily, within fifteen minutes, the nurses told me I could lay down and start pushing.  I can only liken this to having a huge dresser laid on your pubic area; having someone remove it for a few seconds; and then throw it back on with a few more clothes and knick knacks in it.  I was relieved after hearing the nurses tell me to start pushing but only for a few seconds until I realized that the actual pushing was just as painful as the restraint from pushing.  And then to look up in the mirror on the ceiling and see that there really was a tiny human that was poking her “little” head out of my body.  Holy cr–! 

“Little” being the extremely relative word in this instance.  “Little” is what the head was an hour after birth when I had been stitched up and regained some of my senses.  “Little” is not what the head was when it was trying to poke through my body and see the outside world.  It was HUGE and OBNOXIOUS and CAUSING IMMENSE PAIN!  But the body is an amazing thing because as much as I hurt and wanted to stop pushing, I also pulsated with joy and anxiety in meeting my daughter who I had nourished and cared for the last nine months in her safe cocoon.  When I saw her head crowning, that joy drove me to push harder and harder until I heard the shrills of excitement from the bystanders announcing that a baby was on its way out! 

Maria, Alana and Mario rockin' it out on Ri's b-day!

 

And then she was bundled up in that hospital blanket and placed in my arms.  Jon stood by me looking down at us.  There she was with her dark eyes and her black hair and warm skin.  A little Maria Grace ready to dominate the world.  And 6 years later she is well on her way.  

Her style can be commanding “Uncle Jack, come stand HERE!”, or gentle “It’s ok, Baby Gracie, I got you.”  Her attitude can be sassy “Ok, dad, I get it – you don’t have to repeat it.” or sweet “Mom, you are the best mommy ever!”  

Maria makes her presence known wherever she travels through that loud booming voice of hers.  She has the Heile/Menkedick vocal chords.  Her favorite pastime is yelling just like she used to do as a baby in her crib every two hours of every night.  How Jon and I survived the first 15 months is beyond me (yes, 15 months before she slept through the night – we really need to be sainted).   Maria loves to take care of younger kids – the mother hen is alive and well in her.  No matter if it’s Gracie or Lucy or Maggie or Maura, she sits with them and shows them books or toys, she holds their hand when they try to walk across the room, she makes funny faces at them and makes them laugh, she pats their backs when they start to whimper.  She is a natural. 

Maria and her family

Maria and her family

Maria also loves to be around family.  She adores her grandparents who all bring something special to her life; she worships her uncles who even break down and play barbies with her; she frolics with all of her aunts and cousins who treat her like one of them and let her join in all of the festivities.  She especially loves her little brother who can be a pain in the butt at times between hitting her, pinching her, pulling her hair, waking her up, and sitting on her.  Nonetheless, she is always ready to squeeze and hug him when he allows, and she will protect him at all costs (we can never forget when Mario and her were in the bounce house and a boy tried to push Mario – Maria stepped in and pushed him back warning “Don’t hurt my brother!”).  She received the nickname “The Muscle” in daycare and  the name lives on as she gets older.  Her hugs can be lethal but always well-intentioned.

Trying out her new bike

She is observant like her daddy recognizing people’s goofy mannerisms or certain things in books or places that I would never have noticed.  She is wild like her momma running around and being loud whether it is at parties or at the house.  She likes to live life large.  She loves food and drink.  She is always ready for a loaf of garlic bread and pasta and meatballs, and could go without anything else if she had that plate at her side 24 hours a day.  Maria loves to help cook (which is a fascinating phenomena since her mama embarrassingly rarely cooks).  When we make pancakes or cookies or macaroni, she wants to read the box and add the ingredients and stir the food.  She looks forward to setting the table and having all of us eat together.  However, she is less fond of making a lot of conversation at the dinner table.  She is like her dad – there to eat and not to chat. She enjoys pretty dresses and beaded sandals but is still not hesitant to put her knees on the ground and dig for worms.  She loves to put on make-up but detests brushing her hair and wails at the thought of anyone else brushing it.  

Maria celebrating her b-day at school

She still climbs into bed at 6 am and snuggles her body up against mine; many times she lifts her head and places my arm under it (I always hated sleeping this way with boyfriends but with my daughter it is a joy!).  She adores her daddy and goes through serious withdraw when he leaves town for more than a couple of days.  He stands up for him when he is getting grief from me or another family member but quickly turns on him when Grandma Ionno is around demanding that she “take care of Dad because she is the boss and he is her son!”  She loves her mama as much as she loves her daddy but as it tends to be with mothers and daughters, it is much more emotional in nature.  She either thinks I am the greatest thing to hit this Earth or the most evil person to walk into her life.  I can only imagine how much more pronounced this will be as she gets older – teenage years are thankfully seven years away.

Ri giving me the bear hug

Maria exudes a spirit that few kids her age possess.  She is free and spontaneous and relaxed and aware and empathetic and magical.  I think she is the coolest girl on the planet, and I want to give her mondo kisses and lovin’ every time I lay eyes on her.  Luckily, I can still get away with doing that; I am certainly going to live it up while I am able.

Continuing the Madness…

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Easter morning

We stuffed ourselves on Saturday.  Absolutely stuffed between the corn casserole, the brownies, the potato salad.  So, what else is there to do but continue the gluttony on Easter Sunday?  The kids woke up in a bit of a stupor from our long day on Saturday but within about eight minutes, the day hit them. 

“Is it Easter?  Did the Easter Bunny come here? Are there eggs downstairs?”

It had rained all night so the back yard was soaked.  Jon kept the kids in bed while I ran downstairs to hide the eggs and put out their baskets.  I had done the baskets Friday night knowing that I would be exhausted Saturday night.  As I was placing the last few eggs on the bookcase and piano, the kids started shuffling downstairs asking if they could begin the hunt.  They found their baskets in the corner of the dining room – Maria screamed when she saw Justin Bieber stickers and Mario jumped around the room when he discovered mini transformers.  Maria moved onto the “hidden” eggs (not so hidden when you are talking about three rooms downstairs with very little furniture) and found all of her eggs within two minutes.  Mario took his time on the eggs front because those new transformers were way too enticing.  

After the hunt came the best part – opening each egg to eat up the contents.  I had packed Maria’s eggs full of skittles, gumballs and NERDS (she enjoys those sweet candies like her Aunt Sarah).  I packed Mario all chocolate – M&M’s, snickers, and reese’s (he is his mother’s child).  Everytime Mario looked away, I snatched another chocolate.   

Jon’s parents and brothers came over at 11 am and we headed to brunch at Bravo’s restaurant.  The kids hung on their  cousin Peter, the entire time.  They were fascinated with him (age 16) just like they are with their Heile boy cousins(age 16 and 17).  Luckily, Peter is about as low-key as the Heile boys so he allowed them to climb on him, lead him through our house, and show him their toys.  When we returned home, Mario begged to play Peter in a game of b-ball on Wii.  While they played, the gals (Maria, Patty, Debbie and me) walked to Giant Eagle to grab a bag of ice.  We talked about Jon’s dad, about moving to Columbus, about kids.  It was nice to break away and have that alone time together.  Maria did a good job walking with us and listening to us talk – she is getting more mature in that arena lately.  She used to butt in every two seconds in the past but now she enjoys listening and adding in her two cents when she sees fit. 

When we got home from the store, Mario had moved the men to the outside to play “live” basketball. He showed us his dunks while Maria came out and showed us her new sandals.  I had taken her there to get me a pair of gym shoes.  When we walked in, however, Maria immediately dragged me over to the high heels section.  She selected about three different heels that were over an inch high and that I have only seen in the movies on prostitutes.  She loved them.  To her despair, I moved directly to the gym shoe area.  I led her to the girls’ shoes and soon she returned with a pair of black heels on her feet.  They almost fit her perfectly, and she begged to purchase them (I am so hoping that this a phase that ends by the time she is 7).  She chose about 4 other shoes before she came out with the turquoise sandals, which we finally agreed upon. 

After chowing down on Patty’s awesome chocolate chip cookies and turtles, we hit the road for the Heile soiree, aka the Madhouse.  Poor Jon is still not used to the ruckus that inevitably occurs when us Heile women get together but he continues to hang in there be the good sport that he is (typically sitting off in the corner with my uncle to talk about hunting).  My darlin’ girl cousins love on Maria and Mario picking them up, squeezing them, kissing them and giving them raspberries all over those round bellies – just like the treatment I received from my aunts when I was little.  Maria relishes in the time that she gets with her second cousins (who we call aunts just because second cousins seems way too distant).  They include her in anything they do which included this holiday sitting on the back of my uncle’s truck listening to music and chatting about boys, clothes, friends, and shoes – right up Maria’s alley.  Mario has made the conscious choice to turn his attention to the boy cousins because they spend their time playing basketball.  He hangs in there with ’em trying to make a shot even if the net is ten times his size.  One day he will show them all up. 

We chowed down on more ham, more potato salad, more deviled eggs, and a new twist – baked beans (a Heile tradition)!  Dairy Queen ice cream cake for dessert, too.  Pure heaven.  We had our traditional easter egg hunt that used to be at least 9 kids strong but that was before all of the cousins grew up and turned into 20 somethings.  Now we only have four kids participating – Maria and Mario, Baby Grace, and Konner.  Everyone wants to get the $5.o0 egg each year, and although all the kids get the same amount of eggs each year, it is still a race to get your number the quickest.  Maria got all nine of hers and Mario only had 8.  Konner had 7 and Grace was finished.  Everyone was helping Konner and Mario find the remaining eggs.  One of the cousins found one and called for Mario to race over.  Konner started heading that way, and Maria tackled him to the ground in order to help her baby brother (the reason she gives at least).  When it comes to eggs, they go to no lengths to help each other.  Baby Grace ended up with the $5.00 egg for a second year in a row much to Maria’s disappointment.  Maria had a major breakdown last year when Grace got the egg; this year we had a talk about how to act if Grace won (be graceful and grateful that she won because she is a baby and needs diapers!) and indeed, she took the $5.00 “loss” like a champ. 

The rain started to grow heavy after the hunt, and the party moved indoors except for Mario and the boys who continued to shoot in the steady downpour.  Mario walked in the house fifteen minutes later sopping wet and completely uncomfortable.  “Mom, take off my shoes and my clothes.  I am all wet and need to be dry.”  He could not stand being wet, and refused to put his shoes back on throughout the night.  He did enjoy running around the living room in only his undies.  Maria again used her tackling skills to get him under control and move him back into the bedroom to get dressed. 

We left the Heile house with cousin Maggie in the car (hitchhiking a ride back to Columbus) and Madagascar on the movie screen.  Maria lasted about 30 minutes before crashing.  Mario and Maggie hung in throughout the trip home.  We unloaded all of the easter treats in the house and I spent 20 minutes picking through easter candies to eat promising myself that the candy remaining on Monday morning would be given away at work.  Of course, I sit here tonight eating a reese cup and a chocolate bunny swearing that I will get rid of the candy tomorrow.  Yeah….

Family, Ham and Chocolate

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Mario’s game face
M & M getting ready for the hunt!

I love Easter.  It is my favorite holiday for two reasons: (1) I adore chocolate and there is a ton of it between the easter egg hunts, the grandparents, and me splurging on it “for the kids’ baskets;” and (2) people seem to be more relaxed on Easter – less frantic about presents, meals, attire.  Easter comes right at the time of a new season – winter cold is gone and grass is turning green.  People are excited about being outside again. 

We celebrated Easter today out at the farm.  The forecast called for rain all weekend with strong thunderstorms at times.  When we woke up this morning, the sky was grey and dreary but had promise to it.  Patches of yellow and blue broke through in the sky, and I had a feeling during my morning run that we would be spared.  I was right.  The Grandview Easter Egg Hunt began at 10 am with soggy grass underfoot but no rain showers.  Maria’s nightmare came true when she heard that 5-7 year olds were grouped together (“I will never get as many eggs as 7 years olds).  However, she perked back up when she met up with her friend Anna and her grandma.  I stood with Mario in the 2-4 year old group coaching him about how to engage in the hunt (“pick up the eggs first – not the bags of oreos and cookies”).  He put his game face on after my speech, and anxiously awaited for the announcer to yell “GO!”  What comes over me and other parents at these easter egg hunts?  We are so competitive following our kids around the area pointing frantically at eggs that we see.  When the kid is looking in the opposite direction, we yell “Mario, look!  Mario!  Mario, over here!  Mario!!!”  Mario ended up with more eggs than Maria, which led to Maria frowning and complaining that she did not get “any” eggs even though she had three in her basket.  Her friend gave her two of her eggs, which led to 180 degree change in Maria who smiled from ear to ear.  the kids sat down to open their eggs, and Mario promptly gave me the first chocolate candy piece he opened.  What a doll.  I had told him how much I loved easter chocolate and he had told me that he would share his with me.  However, I was not going to believe it until I saw it.  And there it was.  He does love his mama!  Maria, on the other hand, gave me a stern look when I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from her basket.  “Mom, this is my food.”  She is so generous when it comes to other things but not her food!

We rushed home after the hunt and hopped in the car to the farm.  Within five minutes of walking in the door, Maria and Mario and their cousins found the baby chicks.  Tiny and precious and so delicate.  Just what three and five-year olds need to handle.  But Grandma Meg managed to let all of the kids hold them without incident.  Mario chanted “Calm, calm” to the chick while he held it.  Maria acted like she was a vet while she held one asking me what was wrong with my baby chick.  They were infatuated at first sight.  Maria and Anneliese, her 8 year old cousin, played beautifully together.  Surprisingly, Mario and his three-year old cousin, Ben, also played together for the first time ever.  In the past, they were into their own things (and still at that young age where you don’t play much with other kids) but this time they were by each others’ sides for most of the day.  Ben would yell for Mario and Mario would run to him.  Mario would ask Ben to get something for him and Ben would get it.  They threw stones in the stream for 30 minutes and talked about being in the army while they rode the rocking horses.  They used croquet clubs as hammers and swords.  Boys.  Maria and Anneliese held the chicks a lot and walked Rosie and played in the stream.  Tomgirls – yeah! 

We ate yummy ham and potato salad and deviled eggs and corn casserole and butter rolls.  Patty’s potato salad won everyone over with people going up for thirds!  I swear I am going to enter her p. salad into a contest – it will undoubtedly take first place.  Desserts made my stomach larger just looking at them – brownies, cookies, shortcake, chocolate cake, lemon bars in addition to all of the Easter candy!  Oh, how I love this holiday! But, oh, how I wish I had some sort of will power.  I get on Maria about eating too much but then I stand around the table eating 3 brownies, cake, candy and cookies.  I blame those Menkedick genes that cannot resist chocolate (unless you are supernatural like my father).  My 91 year-old grandmother devoured the desserts just like me so I think I am doomed.  

The kids got to ride the horses towards the end of the day and then got treated to a stellar easter egg hunt.  There is part of me that still wants to participate in those hunts – I see an egg hiding in the fence post and I get so excited.  I was a damn good egg finder back in my day….  We finished up the afternoon holding the chicks some more and chatting with family that we don’t see as often as we would like.  Maria would love to have Anneliese closer and Mario and Ben would have a blast together now that they are the ripe old age of three.  Grandma M. is strong as ever, carrying on conversation and watching the kids play.  I wish I lived closer to her so we could see her more often even though she even states that having M&M over any more often would seriously wear her out.  She has got to be kidding – my kids are little angels…! 

In sum, a great start to a holiday weekend.  The farm is a gem, and Meg did an awesome job hosting us all.  Dad did an awesome job entertaining the kids (even though he allowed Mario to fall in the stream!).  And the rest of us just soaked in the beauty of a wet Spring day.

Entering Steeler Country

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It was a simple choice for Spring Break.  No, not Miami, not Charleston, not Disney but rather – Pittsburgh, PA!  Not that anyone would be wondering why Pittsburgh but just in case….

Aunt Sarah lives there!  And Uncle Jorge.  And Stella and Mona – their dogs. 

Pittsburgh also is home to a few hotels with pools and hot tubs. 

Combine Sarah, Jorge, the dogs and a hotel pool and you have a fantasy Spring Break for me and the kiddies. 

Mario playing Wii and taking forever to get ready for the road!

Mario and I headed out of Columbus at 9:30 am on Thursday morning after I took a morning run (knowing that would be my last free hour without kids by my side), got Mario to stop playing Wii basketball and get dressed, and made a bag of snacks for the road (always a must).  I had loaded the stroller in the car the night before.  And Grandma Meg’s present. I had gotten our duffel bag packed full of clothes, barbies, blankies, and swimsuits and placed it on the couch.  I had packed the camera, money, and stuffed animals in my backpack.  Ready, set, go.  Mario grabbed his book bag filled with the most random items: plastic superhero figurines, socks, bathing suit, and small beach ball.  We gave Cy a big doggie hug and took everything outside to the garage.  Mario, my wild child who cannot simply open the car door and sit in his seat, twirled around in circles and hit his head against the side of the car as I put my book bag in the front seat.  I reached back to pick him up and console him.  When he finally calmed down, I sat him in his seat with his backpack and his pillow pet.  I went around to my side and climbed in the front.  We were off!

Mario provided commentary to me about his power rangers movie on the way out to the farm.  He also kept asking when we would be in “Mexico.”  I think he correlates Mexico with Aunt Sarah since she was there the majority of Mario’s life and he cannot seem to grasp the fact that she has now moved to Pittsburgh.  As we travelled through the countryside looking at cows and horses, my mind suddenly fixated on our duffel bag.  I looked in my rear view mirror and could see everything behind me.  That would be impossible with a big red duffel bag on top of the stroller.  I pulled the car over and opened the back of the car.  No duffel. I left it in the garage as i consoled Mario.

“Sh–, da–…” 

Mario consoling me.

After a slew of inappropriate words outside of the car, I plunked back in my seat.  Mario immediately sensed my frustration.  I told him we forgot our bag with clothes in it and he replied “Mom, don’t worry, I packed my swim trunks in my book bag.” His words touched me, and I realized in the big scheme of this crazy life, there could be many worse situations to be in at that moment.  I laughed and reached my hand back to his hand giving him a kiss in the air.  We continued down the country road to Grandma Meg’s house.  I walked in the door and divulged my forgetfulness to Meg and Maria.  Maria’s reaction was diametrically opposed to Mario’s.  She wailed and then stuttered between sobs, “But, mom, my new bathing suit was in that bag!”  We played with Grandma Meg’s dog and cats, gave her some sweet birthday presents, and hit the road with a full bag of chocolate chip cookies (very dangerous). 

Maria hugging Mona after her good trick.

On to Pittsburgh.  Through Wheeling and past Cabela’s (Jon’s favorite).  When we hit Pittsburgh, we went through the Pitt Tunnel and over the bridge.  The kids interrupted their tv show to admire the sights for three seconds.  Finally, we found ourselves parking at Sarah’s apartment.  We hurried out of the car and into her place before our fingers and faces froze in the Pittsburgh air.  As soon as the door opened, big ol’ Stella and little darling Mona greeted us.  They jumped and yelped and flipped all over the hard wood floors.  Maria and Mario lapped it up.  Mario joined right in with the nonsense running all around and letting Stella jump on her even though Stella is nearly as tall as Mario.  Mario got an ear and eye cleaning 5 times over from Stella who thoroughly enjoyed licking all over his little head after she cornered him.  Maria, on the other hand, earned the nickname “Enforcer” by constantly issuing commands to the dogs and withholding love until they obeyed.  She attempted to teach them tricks (that Aunt Sarah has already taught them, thank god) and put on shows for us, the audience.  Poor Jorge – he is not at all used to this chaos and I am sure that our presence for even a half hour jettisoned the thought of kids far out of his mind!

Mario loving on Stella

After Aunt Sarah’s house, we ate lunch at Pamela\’s Diner.  Yum.  Absolutely delicious banana and granola pancakes with whipped cream and syrup.  Spinach and feta omelette. Onion rings.  Perfect vacation food.  After Pamela’s, we hit the local Target to get some clothes for Mario and me and a bathing suit for Maria Grace.  She chose a black two-piece.  Mario chose some striped overalls in a size too little because he likes to see his socks when he looks down.  After Target, Sarah and Jorge were ready for a little break so we dropped them off and headed to the hotel.  I love the enthusiasm that Maria and Mario bring to simply walking into a hotel.  They bounced all around the lobby while I checked in and ran to the elevator to push the button.  They spotted the pool. 

The Crew at Pamela's

“Mom, look at the pool.  It is right by the elevators so it is so convenient!”  Maria boasted.

Mario merely screeched “The pool! The pool!”

The disgruntled models posing in their suits.

We headed up to floor 6 after Maria let Mario hit the button in the elevator.  This action became a huge source of bargaining and compromise for the next two days as I guess in little kids’ worlds, pushing the button in the elevator is much more cool than pushing it outside of the elevator.  Overall, they did pretty good (with Maria giving into Mario a majority of the times). We stepped in our room (after Maria used the key card in it which Mario found no interest in until the last day) and both kids gasped with excitement.  It had a huge tv, a huge bed, a sofa and a coffee maker (Maria’s favorite).  We threw off our clothes and got in our suits.  

The hotel pool.  AKA, super chlorine-ridden pool.  It wasn’t until Saturday afternoon driving home that I realized how the amount of chlorine in that pool.  Red blotches grew all over my skin and I itched and hurt at the same time.  Maria and Mario did not have it quite as bad but we all still smelled like chlorine after 4 showers.  Nonetheless, it was worth it for the fun we had in the pool and the hot tub.  Maria actually jumped in the pool by herself for the first time and swam over to me at the other end of the pool.  Mario jumped in by himself with his swimmies on his arms and rose up from under the water with a half-scared, half-amazed look on his face that quickly turned to a huge smile.  Aunt Sarah came and played with us that first night acting like a shark with Mario on her back and allowing Mario to push her in the water while she stood “bored” on the side of the pool.  The kids adore her.

Loving the pool.

Sarah hit the road after the swim and we went down to the hotel restaurant for a quick bite.  Maria wanted both chicken fingers and nachos.  I promptly said “no” and the waiter looked at her sullen face and suggested that she could have chicken fingers with just a “few” nachos on the side.  Fifteen minutes later, he brought out four large chicken fingers and an entire plate of nachos with cheese.  Maria said “thank you” without me even having to prompt her!  We ate quickly because Mario was whining and complaining and took the remainder of our meals upstairs.  Maria loved eating in the room while watching tv (she is my child) – she got the roll away desk out and her chair and set up shop.  We fell asleep around 10:30 and woke at 7:30 – not bad for these two poor sleepers. 

Heading up the cathedral steps.

Friday consisted of  jam-packed, action-filled events with Aunt Sarah and Uncle Jorge.  We picked Sarah up at 9:15 and headed to the Cathedral of Learning where she teaches her undergrad course.  She had high hopes for us – to climb up 36 flights of stairs to the top of the cathedral.  Maria and Mario wanted to do it so badly but after 14, their little legs were stinging.  We agreed to make it to floor 15 and take the elevator.  We got to the 36th floor and it treated up to a sight of all of Pittsburgh.  The kids stared down and basked in their glory of climbing half way up the stairs.

Looking out at Pittsburgh

We got to wait outside of the cafe for a half hour while Sarah met with a student.  We people-watched and talked about what it would be like to be in college.  A lot of questions posed to me from Maria about what I did in college (I fibbed a bit about studying hard and never partying).  Finally, it was time to go to Aunt Sarah’s class.  We got there a few minutes early and Sarah was not there yet.  Here students were, however, and we introduced ourselves.  Maria got shy.  Mario stood on the chair in the front of the room and talked about how he loved basketball. 

Mario next to the T Rex

The Carnegie Museum of Natural History is across the street so we headed over there to see the big dinosaur outside.  It wears a different scarf every other day (so I hear).  We decided to go see the dinosaur exhibit.   Four hours later, we left.  The museum housed a plethora of exhibits and kids’ activities.  They got to act like archeologists and dig for bones.  They got to see big mammals and little birds and dinosaur bones.  They got to learn facts about trees and stones in the Discovery Room and they touched fossilized dinosaur dung.  Yeah!

Maria during her archaeological dig

We left the museum for a long walk in Schenley Park with Sarah, Jorge and the pups.  What an incredible park to have so close to their disposal.  I felt like I had entered a state park.  A stream, rock bridge, trail, huge trees.  Maria walked the dogs through the entire park only getting help once in a while from Sarah or Jorge.  I carried Mario the entire way who had collapsed at the entrance from exhaustion.  My hips and shoulders felt like someone had stabbed them a million times at the end of the trip.  But so worth it.  We grabbed our suits after the park because we just needed a little more action and we headed to the pool with Sarah and Jorge.  Jorge became Maria’s servant shortly after we jumped in the water.  “Jorge, come now.” “Jorge, over here!”  And, Jorge earned his “uncle” title that afternoon by divulging Maria’s demands and playing with her incessantly until we all called it quits.  Sarah earned her title as well by sword fighting with Mario in the hot tub and submerging her head under when he won.  

The crew in the hot tub

To top off the day, we headed to The Church Brew Works, a restaurant housed in an old church.  We got there at 7 pm – way too late for the kids we would find out.  I knew it was a long shot that they would be good based on all of the hoopla from the day and no nappage but I was hopeful.  Within ten minutes of sitting down, Mario whined about his stomach hurting.  He sat on my lap the rest of the dinner intermittently crying or getting mad that we were still sitting there.  Maria turned on us, too, after her pasta and salad arrived and the salad had vinaigrette on it rather than ranch and her pasta was “yucky.”  She broke down.  We got her chicken fingers but by that time, it was too late.  Sarah, Jorge and I conversed to the extent possible and called it a night.  Again, I think we jettisoned Jorge’s desire for kids out another 10 years.

Maria lovin' the pool

The kids and I headed back to the hotel.  Mario was hurting from refusing to go to the bathroom and had diaper rash (his one ailment he is constantly prone to).  Maria begged to go to the pool.  I was hoping that the front desk had some type of diaper creme.  We went down and had no luck.  However, the girl at the front desk offered to go buy some for me.  What a godsend.  She has no clue what a wonderful gesture that was for me.  We watched Maria swim while we waited.  Maria did a good job playing on her own in the water – a good sign for this summer.

We headed to the room to apply the creme, and poor Mario cradled himself in my arms.  We sat there watching tv until we all fell asleep.  Mario awoke at midnight screaming hysterically.  It’s bad enough to be awakened at midnight by a screaming kid but even worse when you are in a hotel and know that people around you are shaking their heads and cussing at you under their breath.  I consoled him to the point where his crying became muffled, and then I made him pee in the toilet.  As I stood behind him trying to keep him quiet and asking him to try to go to the bathroom, he farted.  And that is when the fun began.  Poor moms.  How many of us have a similar story of getting crapped on, literally?!  Rancid, disgusting, putrid – the only words that can begin to describe what I had to clean off of me and the bathroom floor.  An hour later, I climbed into bed with Mario sleeping soundly.  At least he slept the rest of the night. 

Mario with his water wings

Mario woke before Maria so I took advantage of the Cartoon Channel so I could rest my eyes a little longer.  Maria woke at 8:15 am, which is the latest she has ever slept (thanks to that dog walking  the day before).  We went straight to the pool for our last vacation swim – I knew better than to mention breakfast with the hopes that we would swim for a mere half hour and then they’d be too hungry to continue.  The plan failed.  One and a half hours later, I finally got them to go and that was only because a maintenance man came in to check the chlorine and he went along with my act when I asked him if the pool was closing.  I should have slipped him a $20 on my way out. 

Hanging with the pups

We headed back to our room, got changed, and headed out to Aunt Sarah’s for one last jaunt with the crazy pups.  When we arrived, books and papers covered the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and glass of water amidst them.  Joan Didion. The Best of Nonfiction Writing.  The New Yorker magazine.  I admire their passion for writing and reading.  Sarah told me they got up and immediately began reading and writing.  A foreign life to me at this stage of my life, but one that always inspires me to continue to ask questions and express myself and access my goals.  And I have learned that one of my goals at this stage of my life is to enjoy and cherish this time with my kids, and to provide them with experiences that will help them see the world outside of our home and neighborhood.  As hard as these “vacations” can be, I feel exhilerated at the end of them because of the experience of it all. 

Giving Stella one more treat

Mario saying goodbye to Mona

And back to Sarah’s and Jorge’s lives, Maria and Mario interrupted their lives that morning as they bombarded Sarah with a ton of questions about the pups, ran around the apartment with them, and fed them enough treats for a week.  Nonetheless, Sarah and Jorge welcomed the two tornadoes with open arms and wide smiles, and provided them with much love before our departure.  We said our goodbyes with the dogs a’ barkin’ and headed back to Columbus, Ohio.  The West Va. gas station (West Va. is Mama Ionno’s birthplace) greeted us and provided us with Cheetos for Mario, Chex Mix for Maria and CornNuts for me to get us home.  We had a brief layover with Pee-paw at the farm (long enough for Maria and I to take a hike and find deer bones that Maria wants to take to school and for Mario to see the horses). 

Mario passed out

Maria watching Berenstein Bears with her pillow pet

Mario fell asleep within ten minutes of hitting the road to Columbus.  He slept until we were ten minutes from home, which is when Maria knocked off.  We walked in the back door and experienced that mixed feeling of relief in being home and sadness in knowing that vacation was over.  We all sat on the couch and relived the trip with dad.  Later that evening, Maria laid in her bed looking distraught.  “I want to be back in Pittsburgh” she sulked.  And folks laughed when we told them Pittsburgh for Spring Break.

Mini me and Spazo

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Mario running with Maria in the stroller shouting commands!

Maria and Mario agreed to a walk two evenings ago but we got in the stroller and remembered that the front tire burst during our library trip last Sunday when we put Maria on the foot rest of the stroller to make room for her friend and Mario to sit in the stroller seats.  The stroller tire lasted almost a half of a mile before it succumbed to the pressure from above.  When I told the kids the stroller was out of commission, Mario went straight for his bike.  Maria went straight to my arms. 

When that idea was shot down, she begged for the one-person stroller. 

“Maria, why don’t you walk?” 

“Because I am tired, mom, and I haven’t been in this stroller in a long time. It will remind you of when I was just a baby.” 

She is smooth.  She knows that I weep and get mushy about places, pictures, things that take me back to her or her brother being tiny.  I helped Mario with clasping his Spiderman helmet (he still remembers the time that Pee-paw accidentally pinched his skin in the helmet and winces each time I put it on him) and gave him an initial push down the sidewalk.  By that time, I looked behind me and there was “take-charge” Maria who had gotten the stroller off the porch and situated herself in it.  She gives me the sly Maria smile and shouts “Let’s go, Mom! Love you!” 

Mario riskin' it by petting a rat.

When we looked up, Mario was almost to the end of our block.  He has not yet learned to make complete stops at intersections so I yelled for him to stop.  He didn’t.  That is when Maria Grace took charge.  She jumped out of the stroller and darted towards the intersection yelling “Mario Joseph, stop!”  When she caught up with him (after the intersection where he did glance back and forth for a millisecond), she ripped him up. 

“Mario Joseph, you need to listen to your mom and your sissy if you are going to be allowed to ride your bike alone.  You scared us and we do not like that. Next time you do that we are going to stop the ride and go home.”

And there you have it.  My girl taking charge.  The scary thing is that she sounded just like me.  She has listened to me too well. Mario listened to her entire speech and followed it up with a sticking out of his tongue and a taunt (similar to what he does to his mama).  Maria galres at him and scolds “that is inappropriate behavior, Mario.”  Words right from her mama’s mouth.  I intercede between the two but basically reiterate everything mini-me has said to him. 

Maria and her loud voice (like her mama!)

When we arrive at Panera, Mario parks his bike perfectly against the bike stand, asks me to help take off his helmet, and rests it on the handlebar.  He smooths down his hair that got messed up by his helmet, and heads towards the door.  He has to open it for us, which he is able to do after two minutes of extraneous pushing and me slipping my hand up top to give it a nudge (if he had seen me, it would have been chaos!).  When we walk in, he turns to us and flexes his arms muscles.  “I am strong and have lots of muscles!”  Maria gives him a shout out: “Yes, Mario, you are the strongest!” 

After retrieving water and saying hi to a few older guests (Maria asks if I am proud of her for saying hi to them since I tell her how good it makes people feel to see a little girl smile at them and say hi), we head back out for the ride home.  There are two girls sitting outside, and Mario walks by, looks at me, and whispers “Look at those hot girls.”  Heaven help me.  Who teaches him these things?  Maria rolls her eyes at me but then eggs Mario on by whispering “say hi to them, Mario”  Yeah, I think I have a clue on who is his teacher….

The twosome waiting for Spring to come...

Mario mounts his bike and takes off past Jeni’s and Stauf’s reciting “I am cool” the entire way.  Maria follows him closely making sure that he is not getting too far from us.  He stops at the light and both of them look down to see a tiny purple flower blossoming from the crack of the sidewalk.

“Mom” they both chime. 

“What?”

“Look at the beautiful flower.  That is a sign of Spring.” Maria states.

Mario adds: “The sun helped it bloom.” 

“Indeed, it did, Mario.”

Happynomics

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Precious babes ready for their stroller ride.

I woke this morning to a compliment: “You are a pretty flower.” Spoken from the lips of my son as we sat in McDonalds eating Timbits and burritos this chilly morning (ignore our diet, please, it really is a Sunday morning treat – and sometimes Monday and Wednesday and Friday treat…).  He had bitten into a timbit and fixed his stare on me.  I tilted my head and looked perplexed.  That is when he softly spoke the words to me.  I pursed my lips and rubbed my eyes and thanked him for saying something so sweet to his mama.  Maria saw this entire scene and quickly chimed in with “Mom, you are a…a… pretty flower.”  She is usually pretty quick with a quip to follow-up on her brother’s so she must believe that Mario summed it up pretty well to simply repeat his compliment.  I swallowed both of their compliments up and stored them away in that place all of us mothers have – the “I need to remember something positive about these kids” storage chest that we can open when all heck is breaking loose and we feel like we need to escape but cannot.  If we can just take ourselves back to one of those memories, hopefully we can stay sane enough to make it through the breakdown.  Kinda like chocolate….

Maria (Ms. Serious) and Mario (Mr. Jolly) playing Wii.

On our stroller ride home, Mario finally admitted he was cold.  Both kids refuse to wear big coats or hats or gloves even though it is only 38 degrees outside.  I bring their coats and accessories because I know eventually they will request them – or I should say, one will request them.  Mario.  Maria is a cold weather machine; a heater; a polar bear.  She has our warm blood streaming through her and it takes a blizzard to make her slightly chilled.  When we got home, Mario went straight to the Wii for a b-ball game.  Maria and I went back out for a stroll and talked about Mario’s birth, her birth, what kind of car I had growing up, what kind of car she wants when she gets older, and boyfriends (she is so inquisitive about the past – I love it).  

When we got back home, Maria and Mario played Wii together while Jon worked and I cleaned.  They went upstairs after five games and took a bath.  Maria loves it when Mario is in a good mood because he will play Barbies with her.  He still uses his Spiderman figurine but he will act like Spiderman is talking to Barbie, they go on dates, talk about their friends, and so on.  It is hilarious to listen to from behind the door.  They played a good half hour before they started to splash the water around the tub and all over the floor.  We politely screamed at them to get out, and before we knew it, there were two naked children in Maria’s room reciting “we are robots” and giggling hysterically. 

Maria and Mario fashion models

Jon and I continued to work and clean and Maria and Mario played together upstairs.  After another half hour, Maria yelled down asking if we were both ready for a fashion show.  “Sure!” we yelled back to her.  She introduced her and Mario while they waltzed down the stairs and stepped off the landing in a beautiful display of velvet green and plaid.  Mario in a button down shirt and Maria in a dazzling dress.  I screamed like they were teen idols, and asked for their photo and autograph, which Maria loved.  I also asked if I could kiss her cheek and she blushed with excitement.  “You are such a superstar, Ri, thanks for saying hi to me!”  She laughed and waved goodbye and went up to help Mario who realized he had a tear in his pants (causing him to bolt up the steps to avoid being seen by any other fans).

I finished cleaning the cabinet in the kitchen.  While I scrubbed spaghetti sauce off the white paint and listening to M&M laughing upstairs and talked to Jon about our week ahead, I felt a surge of happiness through my bones.  Pure, raw happiness.  Life could have stopped right there at that second – my head swirled with happiness about who I was, people I loved, experiences I had, places I traveled, choices I made.  All in that moment.   

This evening I perused the NY Times and happened by Roger Cohen’s post titled The Happynomics of Life.  England’s prime minister has decided to create a happiness index.  Cohen argues that this idea is not outrageous and could be helpful if used wisely.   He notes that when Western industrialized societies started measuring gross domestic product, the issue for many was survival.  But now that most of us have enough to live on — or far more than enough by the standards of human history — the question may want to turn to: “What’s going on inside our heads?”  Trying to make a shift from financial prosperity to emotional prosperity.  Putting value on things that don’t have price tags: open spaces, clear air, security, release from pressure — things of growing importance but also growing scarce.

The kids playing it up before Jeni's

Cohen thought of some recent moments of happiness in his own life. “One came walking across Regent’s Park, my skin tingling at the first brush of spring. Another came kissing my daughter goodnight as she slept and seeing how peaceful she was. A third came in Cairo seeing the powerful dignity of the Egyptian people coalescing to bring peaceful change.  These moments were linked to nature, to finding time, to feeling the transcendent power of the human spirit. Emotional prosperity is not the next e-mail in a relentless life.”

His piece struck me based on my experience earlier in the day, and stayed with me as I took Maria and Mario and Maria’s friend, Jonera to Jeni’s for ice cream.  They all ran ahead of me laughing at Mario making silly faces at them.  They giggled the entire time at Jeni’s about goofy things – Mario’s dancing, Maria’s kissing frenzy, the puppy at the window waving to us.  We walked home with the crisp cusp of Winter at our side but with birds chirping and people on their porches clearing the way for swings and planters.

The kids enjoying Jeni's