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Hangin’ with the Cousins

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Baby Grace

Liz and Baby Grace came to visit us today. Maggie and I were hoping she would come up and spend the day with us! Baby Grace has been my biggest fan lately running up to me when she sees me and begging to be held. I love the way that she chirps “Aunt Mary.” Mario showed her all around the house and played with her in Maria’s room. He tried to find books that she would enjoy, barbies she would like, and toys that were “baby toys.”

Maria taking Zach over!

Soon after they arrived, Maria came home from a sleepover with her friend, Zach (when are girls too old to sleep over at boys’ houses?!). Zach and her are the best of friends and the worst of friends. They play really well for an hour or two, and then they scream at each other non-stop. They both are passionate, loud people and neither will back down when they believe they are right (and they always believe they are right). Zach’s mom reported that they woke up by 8 am and by 11 am, it was time to split them up. Maria was bummed about coming home until she realized Gracie was here. She grabbed her up and gave her the “Maria Bear-Hug” smothering Gracie in pure love.

The kids danced to  Wii Dance Party 3. Mario and Maria both figured out that the number of stars you get relates to how well you followed the moves. They both get upset when they doesn’t dance perfectly. They should add stars if you sing along to the song – Mario would have the max. He tries to sing to every song. After we danced for a while and I carried Gracie to every room, we decided to get some lunch at Champps. Thank god for electronics. Maria and Grace played with my Iphone and Mario played his leapster allowing for Liz, Maggie and me to talk. A wonderful gift! How did Maggie and Liz turn from little babes to smart, funny, endearing women? I swear it was yesterday that I was changing their diapers and playing peek-a-boo with them!

The crew at Champps

After lunch, Maria opted to hang with Liz and Mag and Grace at Target and Mario and I went home. We got out the stroller (it hit 52 degrees today) and headed to Giant Eagle to find discount Christmas toys and candy. I supply M&Ms at work and getting the big bags for $1.00 is too good of a deal to pass. We also scored a baby doll for Gracie. On the way home, Mario asked me to tell him a story. Mario loves stories about him in different situations. Typically, he is in the forest saving animals or on a boat catching big fish. After my fourth one, I looked down and he was fast asleep (yeah, I have quite enticing stories)! It reminded me of when Mario was one-year-old and I used to stroll him around the neighborhood to get him to sleep. I miss those days… somewhat.

Making "grass" angels

When we got home, the girls were waiting for us. Maggie and Liz were on the couch watching football and Maria and Graice were playing in the basement. Maria loves to watch Grace and try to teach her things. But Grace is an independent little soul, too, so she often wants to do things on her own. This leads to frustration on Maria’s part and a bit of crying. We decided that we would take a walk with Gracie to see if she would close to Maria on the playground. Sure enough, Gracie started to take to Maria as we walked along and maria continued to play peek-a-boo behind the trees. When Maria made a “grass” angel at the park, Gracie was hooked.

When we got home, we sat around watching football, eating ribs and ice cream, and taking turns playing with the kids. Liz and Mag left around 7:30 and the house felt empty. Messy, but empty. When I took the kids upstairs to bed, Maria asked if Gracie could come over again soon. In a heartbeat, I told her. I miss the chirping of “Aunt Mary.”

One down, three to go, two down two to go, three down, one to go…Finish Line!

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Christmas 2011

And so we end another Christmas season with toys scattered across the floor, chocolate wrappers lingering on coffee tops, and pants unbuttoned to make room for the holiday food resting snuggly in our bellies.  It feels like someone stood me up in the middle of a large room, twirled me around at lightening speed for three minutes straight, and then let me go.  Dizzy, light-headed, and a little lost but the excitement was well worth it. 

We started out with our Christmas Eve at my mom’s house and then my cousin Laura’s house (formerly my Grandma and Grandpa Heile’s home).  My mom’s house is always a whirlwind because we only have about 45 minutes to say hi, open presents, and get ready for Laura’s.  My mom agreed this year to limit the presents for the kids and ourselves but it still seemed like we gave too much even though the kids ripped through the presents in ten minutes.  My mom scored big this year with Ben Ten paraphernalia for Mario and Pet Shop and Barbie for Maria.  Each present that Maria opened garnered a big ol’ smile and a big ol’ gasp when she saw it no matter if she loved it or not.  What a ham and a sweetheart since I had told her it makes people feel good when you smiled and acted happy while opening a gift.  After the gift opening, Mario hit the treadmill for a bit (my mom calls it her $1000 toy for the kids) and Maria looked for food in the kitchen.  After we raided the cheese and crackers, we headed to Laura’s house.  

M&M iwth Robert, Kristen, and Cy

It is still strange for me to see my little cousins all grown up with Laura the oldest at 27 and Konner the youngest at 14.  The girl cousins are all in the 20-something range and lavish Maria with love and advice on how to deal with boys, how to brush her hair, and how to be polite.  The boy cousins rough house with Mario and teach him wrestling moves.   While teaching Mario moves, Robert commented to Mario that he was acting like a girl.  This comment threw Mario into a state of deep depression.  Jon and I found him outside of the house sulking and he finally told us why.  Jon, our family protector, had a few words with Robert, and he told Mario he was sorry and he was only kidding.  I would have never dreamt that such a comment would have bothered him, but you never quite know with Mario what he is going to take to heart.  The other day he was upset because Mr. Park made fun of his sweater by saying it wasn’t “ugly sweater day”; Mario went in the corner and sulked until Park told him he was only kidding. 

While the cousins entertained M&M, I talked with my aunts.  They always seemed so much older than me since I was a pre-teen and they were in their late teens or twenties.  Completely different worlds at that point.  But now I have a kinship with them since we all have or are experiencing a lot of the same – kids, jobs, mortgages.  Most of us have the bond of motherhood – we talk about how to deal with temper tantrums, moments we cherish with the kids, moments we wish we could forget and everything in between.  These women raised me and each time I see them, memories of my times with them flood through my head.  We enjoy the brief time we have together over the holidays with the male family members watching football and engaging in small-talk about hunting or sports or the latest event in the news.  This is home to me – this is what I have known since I was a newborn and it is comforting. 

Trying to get a picture of the cousins...!

The kids opened presents after dinner.  Every kid gets another kid’s name and acts as his/her secret santa.  However, Maria and Mario scored gifts from all of the aunts.  They had a boatload of presents to unwrap.  I was so proud of them as they tore through the presents.  Maria got a book she already had at home but she acted surprised and said thank you to my aunt (and then looked at me and gave me a nod).  Mario said thank you to every person that gave him a gift even before he opened it.  He got a bow and arrow from Robert and Cy (his cousins whom he idolizes).  Maria got i Carly lip gloss from Aunt Jane. 

After gifts, we talked and laughed a while longer and then hit the road for Columbus.  I still had to wrap a few gifts and get Maria’s Barbie Dream House out of the garage.  I am still so charged about that purchase – $30 from a fellow Grandview mom and it does not even look used.  Maria had no idea.  I just could not fathom buying a $150 dream house when I knew she would play with it for a short time and move on to something else.  Mario kept begging us for a Boy Barbie Dream House for him.  All I could imagine was a house with frat boys waiting for the “barbies” to show up. 

The kids fell asleep right when we left for Cincy (miracle), and did not get up until 7:45 am.  Nice present.  Maria stood by my side at 7:45 trying to cough gently to arouse me from sleep and then Mario, sleeping beside me, bolted up.  Is it Santa time?! We threw on sweatshirts and headed downstairs to see if Santa decided we were good this year.  THe kids tore through their presents with Mario getting Ben Ten everything and Maria getting random presents like a robe, drawing stuff and a Leapster reading game.  She walked over to Jon towards the end and said “I don’t think I will get the dream house because it is expensive.” When I brought it our for her, she nearly passed out.  She was so excited. 

My parents came to the house around 10 am and the kids got showered with more presents.  Overload city.  The kids tore through the next round with Mario again scoring mega Ben Ten toys and Maria getting serious bling from Mama Meg (she is known for getting Maria some sweet sweat suit get-ups!).  After we opened up our presents, the rest of the Menkedick crew arrived.  My 91-year-old grandma made the trip, which made the day for me.  Jon’s parents also arrived early to have dinner with us.  The dinner went off without a hitch except that we had to use my parents’ apartment down the street to cook one of the casseroles!  How do people make big holiday dinners with just one stove?! 

The Menkedick and Ionno clan with Grandma M. at the left

During dinner, Patty recognized my grandma for raising my uncle Bill and my dad all by herself.  She commended her for raising such wonderful “boys”.  I was so glad that she spoke up and recognized my grandma.  I don’t know how many people I have talked to about how amazing my grandma is for raising my dad and my uncle in the 1950s all on her own.  Never re-marrying.  Taking them on trips every year.  Making sure they were fed and went to good schools.  As open as my family is, we tend to shy away from sensitive subjects when we get together.  In our defense, we don’t all get together too often, so when we do, we want to keep the conversation light and upbeat.  But surprisingly, the conversation remained light and honorable.  My grandmother received much-deserved praise and gratitude from all at the table (even if she didn’t fully recognize it) and we continued to laugh and enjoy one another’s company.  

M&M and their cousins

After a big ol’ dinner and big ol’ dessert (peanut butter chocolate pie), we opened yet another round of presents.  After an hour, we finished the unwrapping (we go around with each person opening one gift at a time).  Five minutes later, Patrick and my niece and nephew arrived for dinner.  Rock-n-roll!  We switched out the table-cloth, got out new plates and silver, and began making the dinner.  Maria and Alana danced to Big Time Rush and Giovanni and Mario took a walk with me to the park.  I needed some fresh air after a non-stop day indoors.  Besides it was 42 degrees out – balmy for Christmas. 

We returned home for wedding soup, ham, green beans almondine, and potato casserole.  Mario had a break down because he wanted to sit next to Alana and Maria wanted to sit by her alone.  Maria eventually gave in to him like she typically does – Mario has it really good with her.   After dinner, we opened the last round of presents.  I think my cousin’s son summer it up well earlier in the day when I asked him if he is ready for his presents.  He replied “I have opened up too many presents today.”  Fortunately, I don’t think any of the Ionno kids felt that way and how could they with the big bags of goodies that Patty brings for them? 

The babes enjoying the season

When everyone left at 9 pm, Jon and I collapsed on the couch.  Absolutely exhausted but absolutely elated.  A NPR commentator summer it up well when she spoke about her holidays.  She told a story about experiencing the same exhaustion we had and her husband asking her why she drove herself to such a state.  She hosts holiday gatherings in order to honor her family.  I thought that was such a profound and relevant statement for me this year.  The joy I experienced in sitting with my Heile clan that I have grown up with all my years; the warmth I felt in sitting with my Menkedick brood that I cherish and respect; and the happiness I experienced in sitting with my Ionno family at the end of the night brought it all together in one tidy Christmas present for me.  The best present I could ask for 2011.

Gobble Gobble

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Showing off Sarah's mac-n-cheese

We successfully hosted the first Thanksgiving in our new abode.  No injuries, no serious screaming and only one dish of slightly burnt food.  Even the diverse family members homogenized and got along great.  Most of the family consisted of Jon’s side: his mom, dad, three brothers, their wives and kids.  My mom and sis showed up to represent the Heile/Menkedick side.  Jon woke up at 6:45 am to start the turkeys with his brother who drove over from Hilliard at 7 am (we can’t have any meal without Patrick’s input – he is a master chef).  They grilled one turkey and smoked the other.  Maria woke up exclaiming “I can’t believe Thanksgiving is finally here!”  The day may have been better than Christmas for her – she loves having the family over and entertaining.  She proudly showed off her place mats that she slaved over for the three weeks prior to Thanksgiving day (Megan, her sitter, and I prodded her more than a few times but she did a first-rate job on them and everyone enjoyed having a handmade mat in front of them).  

My sis, Sarah, came over at 8 am in order for us to get in our Turkey Day run. We had contemplated running in the UA Turkey Race but decided that we may be pushing our luck trying to cook and run a race that started so late (9:15 am).  Besides, 5 miles is wimpy – we went for about 8.  We tore through the hills of Grandview and ran through donwtown back to our home.  Sarah’s dogs kept us at a clip of a pace – they are like Iditarod dogs running through the tundra – they never stop!  Little Sarah, all 95 pounds of her – held onto “the reins” the entire run.  When the pups spotted a squirrel, they darted and pulled so hard on Sarah that she had to buckle down into a squat position and yank them back with all of her might.  It is quite a sight to see this petite sister of mine take complete control of two dogs.  She may be under 100 pounds but she is mighty. 

A walk to the railroad tracks

When I arrived home, Maria and Mario were ready for everyone to arrive anxiously pacing around the house asking “how much longer?”  Finally, Alana and Giovanni arrived and the screaming and insanity began (relegated to the basement, which continues to be such a godsend!).  The kids had the basement destroyed in less than 15 minutes.  A good reason for me to take a break and walk them down to the woods.  I was getting antsy anyway because it was so gorgeous outside and I had been indoors preparing for the feast.  “Anyone want to take a walk?”  All of the kids jumped up and grabbed their shoes and coats.  We walked down the road to the railroad tracks that are hidden behind a row of trees and bushes off the road.  Is there any more fun than playing on the railroad tracks on a beautiful November day?  The boys threw rocks into the trees and the girls danced around on the wood slats (on the outside of the track!).  We thought we heard a train whistle at one point but it was merely wishful dreaming.  The kids’ eyes popped out at the thought of seeing a train whiz by.  Gio made me promise I would run back down with him if we heard the whistle at the house, and sure enough we heard it right when dinner was starting.  Next time, Gio.  Maria and Alana sang songs on the way back and Mario and Gio acted like “old men” by leaning on their sticks and hobbling up the hill. 

When we got home, Maria and Alana begged for me to keep the boys out of Maria’s room so they could play barbies in peace.  Mario refused to budge until I told him that the girls would beg to come to his room because of all of the cool toys he had so he better run in to it with Gio and keep those girls out.  Maria and Alana caught on to my plan quickly and started to beg to come in Mario’s room.  Mario and Gio slammed the door and refused to allow them in the room.  The plan worked.

Meanwhile, the adults got to chat downstairs without children nagging at their ankles.  Actually, I should clarify: Jon and I got to chat with out kids at our ankles.  Patrick and Carrie have Alana and Gio pretty well-trained and Jon’s other brothers’ kids are grown.  I was so bummed when I took the tablecloths out of the plastic and they were really wrinkled.  If you buy new tablecloths they should be wrinkle-free – that is what you are buying, too, isn’t it?  And what is the trick to getting those wrinkles out?  I spent 20 minutes with the iron on them and still didn’t make much of a dent.  But with the place mats and plates and silver on the table, you could barely tell.  I had bought orange gerber daisies and purple flowers at the market the day before and they bursted out in the dining room against the brown walls. 

Ready for seconds

We made enough food for a small army, as always.  Thirty pounds of turkey, regular and oyster stuffing, mashed potatoes, chipotle mac-n-cheese, rolls, creamed corn casserole, gravy, and fruit salad.  Sarah’s mac-n-cheese dishes were a nice touch and Patty’s creamed corn casserole is always to die for.  I had dreamed of all of the food being laid out on the tables, everyone sitting down, and a beautiful grace being said by me.  Maybe the dream will happen next year.  THere were too many dishes to put them out on the tables, and it would have been a form of torture to make the first people in line wait for the last since it took about 15 minutes for everyone to get through (you know how that is “Oh, what are these? How did you make them?  They look great!”  all the while holding up the line!).  Patty did give an impromptu grace while we stood in line giving thanks for family – those with us and those who have passed – and appreciating the day we had together.  It was short but beautiful.  Patty and I are a lot alike in our love for family connection and every hour or so that day we would knock elbows and smile happy with the way the day was going.   

Maria and Alana with their drawing "If It's Too Loud, You Are Too Old!"

Within twenty minutes of putting my plate down to eat, I had to unbutton my jeans and stretch my arms.  Always a true sign of a good meal.  Maria loved the creamed corn casserole and the turkey.  Mario liked nothing and opted for an oreo yogurt.  Jon loved the creamed corn casserole, too.  I loved everything – seriously, I can’t pick a favorite.  I love all of the side dishes mixed together with the turkey.  Heaven.  When Mario was finished, he asked to be excused instead of stating “I am done.”  The family was quite impressed, as was I!  He informed me later that the school teachers make him ask to be excused because it is a more polite way of saying “I am done.”  Thank god the school teaches him some manners!

After dinner, Maria and Alana acted like vampires pulling naive aunts and cousins upstairs to the attic to “take a bite” out of them.  Josh and I were one of the firsts who got a “bite” in the hand from the vampire girls.  They had a hoot with that game for a while.  Then they chased after Peter for quite some time – poor Peter, our 17 year-old cousin who was “one of the kids” for so long that now even though he is grown, he is the honorary playmate.  We really need to slip him some cash next holiday.

Getting ready for dessert and celebrating Patty's and Alana's b-days!

The desserts enticed even the most full of us.  Pumpkin, pecan, cherry and peanut butter/chocolate pies with whipped cream and vanilla ice cream.  With all of that, the kids played a game of who could spray the most whipped cream down their throats.  It took us nearly an hour and a half to wash dishes – definitely the most obnoxious activity that you have to perform after a big meal like Thanksgiving but at least it gets you on your feet.  Sarah ran over to get her pups when it got dark out and brought them back over for an early evening walk.  We had hoped for a relaxing, serene walk around the block but a mad dash of kids flew out the door and we spent the entire walk trying to ensure that they remained together and didn’t cross the street and held their voices down (yeah, right).  As rowdy as they are, I love seeing all of the cousins together having a good time.  The older ones take care of the younger ones and the younger ones love the attention. 

When we arrived home, we began the pack-up,stuffing leftovers into plastic bins and sliding pie slices onto paper plates.  I tried to get rid of all of it but somehow ended up with my favorites – pecan and cherry – sitting in the fridge.  How is it that one minute I can be stuffed silly and within an hour, I am ready for another slice of pie?  Life is cruel that way. When the last of the family members walked out the door, Maria looked at me with the saddest little face.  “I want Thanksgiving back.  Why do good days have to end?”  “I agree, Maria. But instead of being sad, we should be so grateful to have such a warm, loving, fun family.”  She still looked sad so I took her to the second step of our stairs and sat her down next to me. She leaned her head on me looking out the door.  I held the moment and told her that the second step was our resting place – a place that she could take me to talk about anything she wanted to talk to me about.  I imagined her at age 16 with all of the teenage woes a girl faces.  I told her that I want her to always feel she can tell me anything.  She looked at me and said “I know I can, mom.”  Please, Lord, let her continue to think that way.  

We swept up the remaining scraps from the dining room and living room but left the food that had been dug into the floors by random feet stepping on them.  Those would have to be wiped up on Black Friday; we were not heading out to the shopping mall so we had all day.  Of course, we chose to ignore all that mess one more day and head down to Cincy on Black Friday to visit our aunts and cousins.  A little procrastination never hurt anyone!

Ahhh, Autumn

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Delicious autumn!  My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.  ~George Eliot

I knew it would be a gorgeous autumn day the moment I stepped onto the sidewalk for my morning run.  The air had the most subtle bite of chill to it – not frigid like the past few mornings and not heavy like hot summer mornings.  Perfect running weather.  The sun had been up for an hour by the time I got out to run and it greeted me with its cheerful self warming my bare legs.  I love this time of year with the beauty of the leaves, the cool temperatures, the smell of fireplaces heating homes, the cheers of people at the football game. 

Maria and Mario greeted me with a resounding “MOM!” when I opened the front door after my run.  Is there anything that makes you feel more loved than the sound of children excited to see you?  Mario grabbed two Berenstein books for me to read and we sat in his room with the blinds up and sun pouring in reading about “Too Many Commercials” and “Camping out with Ghosts.”  I love it when Mario initiates reading because he so rarely wants to do it.  He is not into anything at age 4 except super heros, wrestlers, and fighting.  I make him sit down at times and color or work in his workbook but after five minutes he is bored to death.  Other moms console me and tell me that it does get better but I have my doubts….  Maria is doing really well with her reading lately because I have made it my number one priority to make her read every night.  She is starting to see the fruits of her work when she gets a card and can read a lot of the words or sees me reading the paper and can decipher some of the headline.  Of course, I received two cards for my birthday that had the word “Bitch” in the inside of them (gotta love my friends and family!) and wouldn’t you know that she opened them and pronounced “You are a bitch!” just perfectly!  She immediately sensed that “b–” was a bad word and covered her mouth laughing.  Leave it to my girl to immediately know how to spell and sound out the cuss words.  Taking after her mom. 

After reading, we got on our sweatshirts and went outside to rake the leaves and play soccer.  Maria is so funny – she is the little worker bee as long as it is work she wants to do (never cleaning her room).  She is also the boss directing how things should get done.  As I raked, she announced that I should rake near the trash cans because that needed it more.  She then went into the garage and began moving things around to “places that they should really be.”  When I asked her to help me with bagging the leaves, she looked at the work and decided against it.  

Rather, we took a stroll to the library.  Mario begged to take a family walk so we decided that would be a good spot – four blocks away.  I was so excited to see the kids both ready to take a walk!  I was so excited that I even agreed to skip most of the way with the kids after they begged me to do it.  I felt 10 again.  We dropped Maria off at a friend’s house after the library and headed home to those dreadful leaves.  To my glee, Mario couldn’t stop helping Jon and me.  He loves that type of manual labor.  He raked and raked and raked for me.  I would sweep the raked leaves onto a tarp and we would take it down the drive to drop off the leaves at the curb and start the process again. 

“Mom, we are quite a team, aren’t we?” 

“Yes, doll, we are.”

“Are you proud of me for helping you?”

“I am so proud of you.”

Jon and I could not get over what a machine he was raking those leaves up, and kept stopping  to stare at him in complete awe.  I promised him the park after we raked the leaves – anything to stay outside on this gorgeous Autumn day.  I could just eat it up.

Practicing gratitude

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I asked Maria and Mario what they were grateful for while we ate dinner tonight. 

Holding the baby chicks at the farm

Maria: eggs (she had just brought some back from Grandma Meg’s and Peepaw’s farm); little grapes (we had found “baby” sized grapes in the bunch of grapes earlier in the evening); and her grandmas (all three of them!).

Mario: for a wonderful night; mom and dad and Ria and Cy (“I miss him, mom”); my grandmas; and the farm. 

Mom: for the bike ride and for 62 degree weather and for our new home.

I try to ask this question every night in order to reinforce how important it is to recognize all the wonderful people and things around us.  As part of my training to be a culture shaping facilitator at the university, we performed an exercise around gratitude.  We were asked to think about how many times through the day we stressed about something or we wallowed in self-pity because we did not have something or we missed someone or we failed to get something done.  Then we were asked to think about all that we did have – be it a home, significant other, health, car to travel in, clothes, friends, etc.  Most of us realized that when all was said and done a great majority of our life was good.  We had a roof over our head, we were able to travel, we had family who loved us, we had a pet who licked us, we fed ourselves three meals a day (if not more); yet, we realized that we tended to focus  a significant amount of our time and energy on the negative things or people in our lives. 

Hence, the idea of practicing gratitude.  Ever since that training, I have consciously made an effort to push myself to be grateful, especially during the times I see myself heading downhill.  And I figure if I can start M&M praciticing it, they will be experts by age 10. 

And it’s not that hard.  Each day, I find myself tripping over a wealth of things and activities and people for which to be grateful.  Tonight, I was grateful for the chilly fall weather that allowed us to throw on our sweatshirts and bike helmets and take a ride to visit our friends.  I love watching M&M head out on their cycles, laughing and talking the entire way to the destination.  Maria sings songs to herself.  Mario points out each animal and flower he sees on the way.  I love seeing the grin on Maria’s face as she turns a corner all by herself and the excitement in Mario’s voice when he spots a squirrel behind a bush.  I try to allow myself to see the world anew like M&M.  When Mario points to the squirrel, I look at the little critter and wonder if he will find a nut, what tree he will choose to climb, how many brothers and sisters he has at home.  When Maria turns that corner, I remember back to riding my back with Beth Ann, my grade school friend, and how thrilling it was to speed up and down our alley. 

M&M keep me practicing gratitude.  It is hard not to practice it when I have them by my side.  Hopefully, our evening ritual will become embodied in them to where they hit the pillow at night and think about all they have to be grateful for in the day that is about to pass under them.  The stars, the night, a warm blanket, sweet dreams….

A song for Cy

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Nearly one week after Cy’s 13th birthday, he left us. 

“Did he go to heaven, mom, since he was such a good dog?” Maria asked as I drove her home from the grocery tonight. 

After we turned off the tv last night and got ready to read some Berenstein books, Mario turned a sullen face my way.  “I really miss Cy and Duke, mom.” Duke was a dog owned by my dad and stepmom who died about a year ago.  I shook my head and held him tight and told him I missed Cy, too.  Maria joined in the embrace.  We huddled together for a few moments putting our collective energy together to shoot up to the moon and stars for Cy.  When we let go, we smiled at each other and told stories about our pup – the dog who had been in Maria’s and Mario’s lives since birth.  I told them how he stood guard over them as babies; how he refused to let anyone near them until they passed a hard-core smell test; how he barked so loud at every person or thing at our front door and Maria and Mario would just sit in their bouncy and stare at him knowing he would keep them safe; how they could pull his tail or grab his ear and he would lick their hands and feet as if they were gods; how they rubbed his belly and made him feel like a king.

I miss him.

I woke the next morning and rushed downstairs to let him out and he was no more.  His bowls were still in the pantry, remnants of spaghetti on the sides of them.  His plush toy lodged under one bowl.  I see how our love for him blinded us for a time prior to his passing.  He could barely get up off his bed, and when he did, it was merely to hobble outside to go to the bathroom and then hobble back in (many times with us helping him) to get back into bed.  We knew he was arthritic in his back legs and he was turning 13 but he still had those baby brown eyes and those soft wavy ears and that wet cold nose and that is all we could see when we looked at him.  We didn’t want to see him go; he was a part of our family who belonged next to us always. 

He never left my side when I was in the house.  Jon was definitely the “alpha” dog and I was Cy’s playmate and consoler and “mama.” He cuddled up beside me as a pup and laid next to me as an adult propping his arms on me to massage them.  He looked to Jon for the alpha pat on the head, which would sustain him for a week.  He looked to me to put on his leash daily and take him for a 6 mile run to the river and throw him the tennis ball and rest by his side while reading the paper.  If I went in the kitchen, he followed.  If I went upstairs to bed at night, he followed.  If I was sick at night and had to lay downstairs, I could count on him picking his tired self up and coming with me.  He loved me well.

When we laid with him at the vet’s office, I smelled him. He smelled of Cy, the Cy I picked up and squeezed as an eight week old pup.  He scooted his paw close to my hand and I rubbed it with tears gathering heavy in my eyes.  I kissed that cold wet nose and breathed in his doggy breath as he gave me one last lick on the chin.  Jon sat by my side and wept.  Cy was as much his baby as mine and even though scared to death of a gun shot as a pup, Cy was determined to be close to his master in the field and stood by Jon on many a hunting trip.

We are still pondering a song for which to remember him.  I ran across a friend of mine on the day of his death and she told me that she always found a song that her and the kids could play to remember their dog who passed away.  I liked that idea very much.

Happy Birthday Cy!

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Our pup turned 13 today. 

Cy with the kids last year

I remember driving with Jon to the farm in Alexandria, Ohio to look at puppy Chesapeake Bay Retrievers in 1998.  They were all so cute and playful.  But Cy stood out to me.  I still don’t know why in particular.  He was not more cuddly than the others, or more playful, or more distinguishing.  He just felt right to me.  A connection between him and I from the start.  We purchased him and drove him back to his new home in Columbus.  He laid his body on my chest the entire ride home.  My first taste of pure motherly love. 

We did everything together for the first 7 years of his life.  We walked every single day and on the weekends, we ran to the river and Cy got to swim.  I threw sticks to him and he excitedly retrieved them all.  He loved the water and looked like a dog pharaoh sitting chest-high in the water with his reddish-brown fur shining in the sun.  We would run farther down the trail to hit the 6 mile mark and then stop on the way back for another dip in the river.  Once home, I would give him a bath outside in the yard and lather him with love and affection.  We’d lay on the floor together watching tv or reading the paper.  He’d lie his face in my lap and beg me to rub under his chin.  He’d re-position himself to allow me to rub his belly.  We refused to go out some nights because we couldn’t stand the sight of seeing him lonely at the door.  We spoiled him.  He deserved it.

Cy on his 13th b-day!

I remember being pregnant with Maria and thinking “How can I ever love this baby as much as I love Cy?”  When we brought her home from the hospital, we were concerned that Cy would become protective over me and shun Maria.  The first few days we watched his every move with her to make sure that he acted friendly and did not growl or nip.  To our relief, Cy was protective over Maria and watched her every move.  If she began to cry, he trotted into the other room to find us.  He laid next to her when she sat in her bouncy seat.  And he always helped clean her toes with his big wet tongue.  He engaged in the same rituals with Mario after his birth (and Mario tried his patience a lot more by pulling his tail and hitting his head with his favorite toys). 

After Maria’s birth, I still walked Cy a good amount around the neighborhood.  We didn’t get to the river as much as pre-Maria but the walks around the neighborhood provided good exercise.  After Mario came home, there was a lot less time for long walks.  We still managed to get walks around the block several times a day but nothing like the mega runs to the river.  Not too long after Mario started walking, Cy decided he had enough of walking long distances and when we would take him out on his leash, he would not even walk 50 feet without stopping and wrenching his neck back refusing to walk farther.  He would go out back and fetch the stick or run around the house, but he did not want to walk outside.  I respected his wishes but it was difficult to let go of that routine with him. 

The kid crew enjoying the cupcakes!

Within the last year, it has been harder for him to rise in the morning and harder for him to manuever steps.  At our new house, we can only let him out in the front yard because he can’t handle the narrow and greater number of steps out back.  But even though he is having trouble with getting up in the morning and maneuvering steps, he is still the sweetest, gentlest dog ever.  He still nuzzles into your side when you get close to him to pet him.  He still turns on his back to beg for a tummy rub.  He still stares at you with his big brown eyes as if to try to tell you how cool he thinks you are.  He still provides comfort when you walk in the door and see him waiting for you.  I think this quote sums up our relationships with dogs well: “He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.”

Giving Cy his b-day lovin'!

The kids and I decided that Cy needed a birthday cake and birthday bones to celebrate his big 13th birthday.  We bought mini cupcakes at Kroger’s (Maria made sure that we got small vanilla cupcakes because Cy can’t eat chocolate and because Cy would get sick with too much sugar).  We invited Maria’s friends over to celebrate.  We lit up four cupcakes (one for each kid to blow out) and put bones in two of them.  We tried to get Cy to wear a b-day hat but he quickly tore it off and chewed it up (after all, it was a princess pink hat).  We sang “Happy Birthday” to him and blew out the candles.  Maria took the time to peel off the wrapper from one of the cupcakes to feed to Cy before she ate her cupcake (Mario just ripped into his without any thought to the b-day dog).  The cupcakes were devoured in record time and Cy ate what crumbs remained on the floor.  Mario fed him the two bones, and the kids ran back upstairs to play fort.  Cy and I sat downstairs together looking at the deep blue sky out the window.  He looked pleased with his birthday treats and birthday lovin’.

My Achin’ Feet

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We are a servant to the new house.  It rules over our every move.  It works us to the bone. 

Jon and I are exhausted with a big ol’ capital E.  Our bodies just ache and our feet could be rubbed for days and still not feel ready to pound the street.  Jon has been absolutely amazing with the new house.  He wanted to be in charge of the entire master bedroom project and all of the direction relating to the painting and molding and touch-ups in the other rooms.  He had some great helpers (shout out to Jason and Dave) but he really kicked it up a huge notch to get our master bedroom and the rest of the house together prior to our move on Tuesday.  He reinforced his reputation as “the boss” during the last month – he certainly had to ream our helpers a few times to get ’em moving or lead them in an organizational meeting to put their heads around what they needed to do first, second, third….  But he also created a reputation for himself as a hard and dedicated worker, willing to make five trips to the hardware store or paint trim or carry drywall.  He has put some serious sweat and energy into our new home, which makes me love our new home even more. 

Maria dusting

Maria and Mario have been so great through all of this business, too.  Maria helped me pack (she found a little vase box and shoved her undies and Mario’s undies in it; taped it; and then proceeded to write (Maria’s undeez and Mario’s).  She loves to write with a permanent marker so she helped us detail the items in each box.  She is getting better at spelling but I have to admit, I still love to see how she spells certain words that don’t sound anyway like they are spelled (e.g., kichen and cloos (kitchen and clothes)).  She also did a great job dusting; she finds it a challenge to try to get cabinet knobs as sparkling clean as possible and desk tops looking new.  I think she also loves spraying the Endust can everywhere.  She had the choice to head to her friend’s b-day party on Saturday morning or help pack and she wanted to pack.  It was only after I talked with her about the fun she would miss out on and the fact that we would be packing all day that she went to the party.  She rode her new bike all they way there with me only holding onto her on the hills and at the corners of streets.  She is getting so big!  And once we got there, I wanted to stay!  Her friend’s mom made a sheet cake with skewers of timbits poked throughout it.  Cinnamon rolls, too!  Heaven. If only a gallon of chocolate ice cream was beside it, I would have planted myself right there for the day. 

Mario doesn’t quite put forth the effort that Maria does in helping to pack or clean.  He uses all of his energy playing Wii sports or watching tv.  He has gotten his share of tv shows in the last few weeks because that is how we keep him busy while we clean, pack, and clean some more.  It keeps him in one spot so I don’t have to worry about where he ran off to in the neighborhood.  Hopefully, not all of his brain cells have been killed off.  We test him every once in a while with a hard question, and he responds correctly so I think he is fine.  He will play Wii tennis and boxing and golf for an hour or more.  He gets so competitive with the computer and he still spends a good amount of time “creating” his player.  The boy has to look super cool before he will play a game (which usually means black spiked hair, tinted glasses, and super skinny).  He also has gotten into the Barbie.com games based on Maria’s fascination with them.  He sang “I’m a Barbie girl” while waiting in Stauf’s coffee line yesterday and then proudly showed off a kickin’ purple dress he placed on a barbie.

Mario keeping busy with the Barbie.com game

I have not talked to either of the kids about the move much.  Jon and I ask if they are excited to move and both say “yes; Maria emphatically so.  I try to remind them that this current house has given us a lot of memories and there will be times they miss it very much.  Mario just shrugs his shoulders and moves on but Maria seems to process it and explain it more to Mario.  The other day when I told them we would be moving soon and asked how they felt, Mario responded “fine, mom.”  Maria turned him around to face her and said “Mario, mom and dad brought you and me home to this house when we were little babies and watched us walk in this house and get older.”  I had just mentioned all of those things to her the day before when I talked with her about why I sometimes got sad about moving.  God love her.  Between the two of us, hopefully Mario will get some of our compassion!

And so, here we are.  Two days away from moving into our new home and sleeping in our new rooms, and waking up to our new street.  I feel exhilarated while at the new house and melancholy while at the old one.  Tomorrow, I am going to come home early, sit in the living room of this current house and soak in all of the energy and memories and love and laughter swirling around this darling home.  And then I am going to plant myself in the family room of our new house and release all of it into the air for our new home to soak up.

Rounding up Mario’s b-day/holiday weekend

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Mario completed his b-day weekend with a big bash at our “old” house.  It felt strange to sit around the dining room table knowing that it was likely the last “family” meal we would have in that house.  The good part is that the new house will have much more space to spread out; the bad part is that the new house will have much more space to spread out.  There is something quaint and sweet about sitting so close together at one table with chairs side by side and elbows bumping… until you can’t cut into that porter house steak. 

 Everyone spoiled Mario on his birthday.  What is new?  Both Maria and Mario have gotten spoiled rotten on their birthdays throughout their short lives.  Here is a list of some of the things Mario got:

Spiderman Web shooter (the new version which shoots out a piece of string and not the white foam that sticks to every piece of furniture and in every crevice of the room)

Transformer outfit and mask

Sweatpants (with the elastic on the bottom to stay tight around Mario’s ankles (he rolls them up two times now in order to not have them “hang” at the bottom of his leg)

Incredible Hulk Warrior

Soccer disc (it is like air hockey with a soccer ball – pretty cool)

Legos (I can only hope he starts to like those – so much more up my alley than transformers and superheros)

Dinosaurs

Overalls (he won’t wear them yet because they are too “long” even though they go straight to his ankles)

Maria begged for us to give Mario the rest of the presents we had gotten him but Mario was already on overload and did not need to continue opening any more (besides, they will make good Christmas presents).   She takes care of that little brother of hers.  When we were singing happy birthday to Mario, she stood right next to him and put her arm around him patting his shoulder gently.  After the song, we waited for him to blow the candles out.  Maria gently nudged him and whispered “blow out your candles, baby boy.” 

Mario impressed Jon and me with his manners, too.  After opening each gift, he gave a hug and kiss to the gift giver.  Then, at the very end of the gift opening, he stood on a chair, and with a little help from me, thanked everyone for coming to his b-day celebration.  God love him.  And to end all of the excitement of the holiday weekend, Mario and Maria had a tattoo fest.  Mario chose all of his favorite superheros to fill up his compact, strong arms.  Maria chose a huge tattoo for her… neck.  Yes, kid you not.  She is my west-side girl.  All in all, not a bad Labor Day weekend and b-day celebration for four-year-old Mario.

Just one of those nights…

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I love my children…

I love my children…

I love my children…

If I repeat this mantra one thousand times over, it will come true, right?! I had a rough night with the little buggers tonight.  It doesn’t help that I am exhausted between trying to sell our house, renovating the new one (why am I exhausted – Jon has been doing all of the labor!), and pouring over major projects at work.  

Mario's "mean" look

I came home to Mario watching tv and Jon in the shower and Maria over at her friend’s house.  Jon and I were both tired and Mario just wanted to fight and wrestle.  Every time that we tried to talk, Mario dove in between us wanting to play.  We scolded him.  We continued to talk.  He continued to try different ways to get us to wrestle.  We told him to stop.  He grabbed me around my neck and squeezed me.  I yelled at him.  Jon told him to stop, too.  We finally moved downstairs.  That was the start of the night. 

We ordered a pizza because it was definitely a pizza type of night.  Mario and I went to pick it up.  When we got there, I asked if he wanted to stay in the car or come in with me.  He wanted to stay in the car.  I asked again and got the same response.  I parked right in front of the door to the pizza joint, rolled down the windows a fourth of the way, and locked the doors.  As soon as I walked in the pizza shop and looked back through the window, I saw him standing up and crying.  I walked back out and he screamed and yelled and threw his fists.  “I wanted to come in, mom!”  I explained to him that he chose not to come in so it was too late.  He did not like that answer.  He got more mad and demanded we “do it over” so that he could go in with me.  We drove home together with him crying in the back seat and me ready to call it a night and hit the sack. 

When we got home, I got him out of the car and asked if he wanted to hold my hand to the house.  He refused.  As soon as I walked in the house, I heard sobs from outside.  “Mom, I wanted to hold your hand!”  I am proud of myself for keeping my cool when I felt like screaming “YOU ARE INSANE!” to him.  I calmly walked back outside and asked him if he wanted to “do it over.”  He did and we did it over and it was all better, somewhat.  At times, I think he may be dealing with OCD to some degree, and I can only hope it doesn’t get worse.  The question is: what should be my response when he acts this way?  Do I “do it over” in order to allow him to calm down and re-create the experience as he needs it to be or do I put my foot down and explain to him that I gave him a choice and he made his decision? I am in-between at this time.  If it is easy enough to “do over”, I do it over.  If not, I say forget it and try to explain to him the rationale as to why we aren’t doing it over. 

Doll baby girl

Maria had her issues, too, tonight.  I took her and her friend to the yogurt store tonight.  Her friend talked about eating McDonald’s for dinner.  Maria told her friend she didn’t really like McDonald’s but she ate it with her because she did not want to be rude.  Her friend told her that she did not have to worry about being rude – she needed to tell her if she did not like the food because her family does that.  Maria must have responded that she should not be friends with her then since her family is rude to each other and her friend got upset.  Maria can be a little bossy and domineering and I saw this come out in her tonight.  I scolded Maria about talking that way to her friend and she immediately went into the “you don’t love me mom” state.  I explained to her that she could not be so domineering with her friends and she explained to me that she felt weird around her friend and sometimes just didn’t want to be around her.  We decided maybe it was time to take a break from each other but that we did not need to tell that to her friend right at this time. 

When we got home, I felt spent.  Emotionally drained.  It is going to be so hard for me to see Maria go through her teenage years when I feel this concerned about a little tiff with her girlfriend.  I have got to learn to let it go more.  I want to be there for Maria and I want her to feel that she can talk to me but I can’t solve her every problem and shield her from life’s struggles (whether they be 6-year-old struggles or 30-year-old struggles) as much as I would like to do so.  Raising kids is a hard task at times – tonight, no doubt. 

Our two babes

I asked Maria to choose a book to read before bed and when I walked in her room, she sat there with the book Someday on her lap.  One of my favorite books to read to her.  It details a mother’s love for her daughter and shows the daughter with her daughter looking back at the times she had spent with her mother.  It is simply written and beautiful.  I used to read it to Maria when she was one and two years old, and I still remember one time I read it to her and started bawling.  She looked up at me and wiped away a tear coming down my cheek.  My doll baby.  I bawled even more when she did that and soon thereafter, she gave up with the wiping realizing that her mom was just an uncontrollable emotional freak at times.  And I remain as much five years later but at least I am an uncontrollable emotional freak that realizes her weaknesses and trigger points and tries to calm herself before adding to an already ridiculous situation.  If there is one important lesson these kiddies have taught me, it is that you must remain open to possibilities and new days and different modes of thinking.  They help me be an even better, more empathetic, more thoughtful, and less controlling person.  I gotta love ’em for that.