Taking in the morning

December 17, 2012December 17, 2012Leave a comment

This weather is ridiculous. Close to 60 degrees in mid-December. It makes me think twice about living in California or Colorado where it would be a temperate 70 degrees most days. But in the end, I do like the change in seasons and hope that we will get some sled riding in this Winter.

The kids and I took advantage of the weather with a stroller ride and bike ride to our tried and true Tim Hortons. Ri rode her bike and Mario lounged in the stroller. Ri talked to me about her friend’s mom and how mean she was to her friend. I listened to her as she talked about the things this mom said to her friend. She is definitely much more strict than me (who isn’t?!) but her words do seem rather harsh. Nonetheless, I explained to Ri that every mom is different and there were surely wonderful traits this mom possessed. Ri looked doubtful. She biked a bit longer and then looked over at me and said “I have a great mom.”

Can I please package that up with a bow and bring it out when she’s 15 and hating me?!

Meanwhile, Mario informed us that he knew why he woke up last night unable to breathe. It scared Jon and I half to death. He woke up at 2 am gasping for air and could barely drink water. He was raspy voiced. I would have thought he swallowed something if it wasn’t 2 am. After ten minutes, he fell back to sleep and woke up fine. Mario told us that he woke up and was unable to breathe because the trees in the nearby park had been chopped down recently.

“They cut down all those trees and hurt our environment. Now it’s hard to breathe good.”

There is our little Sierra Club member.

After Tim Hortons, we got a rare treat. A train passed through right in front of our eyes as we walked towards the park. We had passed over the tracks hoping to see it and as soon as we passed over, it came roaring by us. We all sprinted to the tracks to see it right before our eyes (Maria held her sides heaving and smiling and said “my body hasn’t gone that fast ever!).

The park was all ours to enjoy. We ran up and down Wyman Woods hill. We played in the sand volleyball court. M&M climbed the old pine tree to the near top. Mario was so excited because he had never climbed that high before. We climbed the monkey bars.

And all of this before 10 am!

On the way home, we passed a couple jogging. Mario pointed at them and said “they are helping the environment by using their legs and not driving, right mom?” I shook my head yes. Maria was dazing off into space and I didn’t think she heard us until she declared “why run when you can bike? I’m going to bike everywhere because I hate to walk.”

Mario confirmed that Ri could take that route because she was using her own energy to move and that was good for the environment. Ri and I smiled at sweet Mario. Then we passed two newly planted trees and before I could point them out, Mario squealed “new trees, mom! I can breathe better!”

Holding on tight

December 17, 2012Leave a comment

Maria spent the night at a friend’s house last Friday night after the Newtown school shootings had occurred. As Jon updated me about the victims, I wanted to run over to the friend’s house and bring Ri home. I didn’t want her out of my sight. I held onto Mario the entire night. I squeezed his flesh and kissed his forehead and told him I loved him a hundred times over. I received a text from the mother of Ri’s friend. She reported “the girls are watching a movie and eating popcorn; all is good.” I breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, and felt a bit lighter than I had five minutes earlier.

Tragedies like the Newtown tragedy force everyone to stop. Freeze. Be silent. Reflect. Pray in whatever manner works for you. Cry. Feel.

I know if I was one of those parents in Newtown whose child had been so senselessly murdered, I would be blind with anger and grief. Screaming at the top of my lungs. I never fully understood the intensity of the bond between parent/child until giving birth to my two, and now I can’t imagine the immense sadness in the loss of your little child. My heart aches for all involved, and I hope that they are able to eventually come to a place of peace and hope. Those darling children and teachers will come back to their parents and their siblings and their families while they sit at dinner. They will bring a smile to their faces. They will be felt when their parents least expect it, and their parents will wrap themselves around their innocence when they most need comfort. I have to believe that to be the case.

When I picked up Maria from her friend’s house, I found her holding her friend’s baby sister, age 2, around the house. “This is my precious baby, mom. I just could eat her up, couldn’t you?” I stared at Ri for a good twenty seconds as she held that baby girl, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

“Mom,” Ri shouted as she waved her hand across my face a few times. “Stop dazing out!”

“Sorry, pumpkin. I was just watching you.”

Ri smiled and placed the baby girl back in her mom’s arms. She gathered up her bags, grabbed my hand, and led me to the front door to head for home. I squeezed her hand in mine and when we got to the car, I picked her up like she was a baby again hugging and kissing all over her head. She laughed and begged “keep holding me, mom!”

Gladly, sweet darlin’.

Like mom, like daughter

December 12, 2012Leave a comment

Last night I allowed Maria to have her friend, Janira over for dinner. I don’t know why I do this on a weeknight after a full day of work and the knowledge that Ri has homework to complete. But I do. While fixing spaghetti for the kids, I chowed down on six peanut butter cookies and what probably amounted to a pound of fudge. I was so hungry I didn’t feel like waiting for real food. Mistake.

I had a sugar headache within a half hour that only worsened with the kids’ screams throughout the house. I did a superb job of hiding my irritation – I even allowed the girls to do my make-up – but when we got back from dropping Janira off I hit my limit. Maria sat next to me writing on the tablecloth rather than doing her homework.

“Ri, don’t be stupid. Stop that!”

“You just called me stupid, mom. That’s just great. You think I’m stupid.”

“That’s not what I said. I said your actions were stupid. You know better than to write on the tablecloth.”

“No, mom. I heard you. I’m stupid.”

“Ri, you are not stupid and I’m not playing this game tonight. Do your homework.”

“Ugh,” she nodded back at me. She noticed my “I’m not happy” look and diverted her eyes from me to her homework.

Within two minutes, she climbed off her chair and wrapped her arms around me.

“I’m sorry for being mean, mom.”

I bear hugged her back and kissed her cheek. I told her I’m just tired and that I’m sorry for using the word “stupid” (we don’t like that word in the house). I continued to write out a check to Kids Club.

Ri scooted back onto her chair and then shot up and started singing “Tis the Season to be Jolly!” I looked at her and couldn’t help but smile.

“That’s the mom I know and love with a big smile on her face! Keep it on there lady!”

Yep, that’s my girl. Always wanting peace and happiness throughout the house just like her mama. I could take a snapshot of me engaging in the same antics a week ago when Ri or Mario was upset. She is my mirror image at times.

Yikes!

Simple pleasures

December 3, 2012December 3, 2012Leave a comment

The kids have been begging to see Rise of the Guardians. After a disappointing trip to the zoo on Saturday afternoon (playground closed and hardly any animals out – I guess it is December…), we decided to hit the 7:15 showing. Of course, it was only playing in 3D so we paid $37 for three tickets – insane. Between the tickets and the popcorn, we could have bought groceries for the month. But the kids loved it.

On Sunday morning, we woke up to sheets of rain. Hence, no stroller ride. So we decided to put up the Christmas tree. I brought up my grandma’s tree and the kids and I assembled it to surprise Jon while he was out for coffee. Mario assembled the metal base of the tree from scratch; he figured out how to put the metal feet in the circle and where to place the screws. There may be an engineer in our future…. Meanwhile, Maria perused through the cardboard boxes of ornaments picking out select ones that she remembered creating or that she knew had meaning to us. Jon’s blue ornament from his teacher, the ornament I gave my grandma when I was ten, Mario’s gingerbread ornament from his old daycare. Ms. Sentimental she is.

We blasted Christmas music from the tv and went to town on the tree. I love our time spent decorating the tree. We talk about years’ past, we admire the ornaments that we forgot about it since last year, we laugh, hysterically. We are completely immersed in the process and it is delightful. Jon always hunts down his favorite ornament to place strategically on the tree; Mario places all of his in one big clump; and Ri directs us all on where things should go.

And there you have it. Our darling Christmas tree lighting up our abode. Later in the evening we realized we forgot to place the star on top of the tree. We looked through all of our boxes and finally found it. Mario begged to put it on and Ri agreed, as always. She got to take the picture and tape a video of it though so she was happy.

Simple pleasures.

Twice-baked goodness

November 26, 2012November 26, 2012Leave a comment

We ended the four-day holiday with twice-baked potatoes; Jon’s and his brother, Chris’s favorite and one of Patty’s signature dishes. I am not a velveeta cheese fan and was hesitant to try one but I had put so much effort into helping Patty make them that I felt compelled. It was not a mistake. Pure yumminess.

I need to buy some stock in Nike elastic sweatpants because that’s all I will be wearing for the next two months between all of the holiday goodies.

Maria and Mario called me from the road on their way back from the farm to see when Grandma and Grandpa Ionno would be over. They had a good time at the farm with Sarah and Jorge and Mama Meg and Peepaw. Maria got in a hike with Sarah and the pups and Mario got to go hunting with Peepaw.

They also got treated to a holiday parade in Marietta. Peepaw piled ’em up in the car on Saturday and drove to Marietta to see what was happening; he had no idea that a parade was in order! Mario scored some plastic army men and a tank and Maria nabbed a ladybug pillow. Maria got to bathe Taz and love on him, too. Mandatory horse fixes when she’s out on that farm.

I got some monstrous hugs upon their return, which I soaked up like bubbles in a bubble bath. The farm (or maybe Aunt Sarah or Mama Meg) had quite the effect on Maria. She went upstairs without any prodding and took a shower, got dressed, and brought down both hers and Mario’s dirty clothes bins. She dragged them right over to the washer and threw them inside. She went back upstairs and got a hamper for the clean clothes in the dryer. All without any peep from me or Jon. Alleluia! She did ask for help with the detergent though and I walked over to get it down for her. She pointed at the Downy and said “I need that, too.” I told her she didn’t need to use that with detergent and she promptly channeled her dad directing me to get it. “We need both – Downy makes the clothes smell better.” I could practically hear Jon in her voice.

Grandma and Grandpa Ionno arrived at 2 pm and Mario promptly laid his body across Grandma and played his iPad game. When she tried to move, he cried “No, grandma!” Finally, she got to move but only to help Ri with her homework. Ri got lucky because Grandma is the master of word puzzles. They cranked the puzzle out with the help of Alana and me at the end. As soon as that was over, Ri and Alana dashed upstairs to Ri’s room never to be seen again until dinner. Mario and Gio watched tv in our room and then went outside to play frisbee and bounce on the trampoline. They referred to each other as “dude” continuously. I picture them on a cross country road trip in ten years with feet hanging out the window and music blaring.

We all watched the Browns game (Patrick was lucky the Bengals weren’t playing) and caught up on the latest. Chris and Connie arrived with pictures from their wedding. Dinner was fabulous with the twice baked potatoes quite the hit. Ri ate two and begged for a third. We talked about Jon and Patrick as kids – Patrick slapping his cheeks outside in order to stay awake on New Years Eve and win 50 cents. Jon had no trouble staying awake. It was a superb time especially with the kids eating in the other room.

After dinner, the kids helped Alana and Grandma open birthday presents. Grandma scored an iPad for her birthday – I can’t wait to see her on Facebook! I am also going to urge her to write her and Joe’s story on it because it would be an amazing memoir.

We had to end the holiday on a pumpkin pie note so we sat down at 7 pm for one (or two) last pieces of pie with lots of whipped cream. Maria showed us her “trick” which entails putting the tip of the can of whipped cream in her mouth and pressing down to fill her entire throat and mouth with whipped cream. About as impressive as her dad swallowing a whole deviled egg.

We sang happy birthday to Patty and Alana and wrapped up the night. I kept wanting to extend the days longer so that the reality of work and school could be quashed. But I woke up this morning (after falling asleep with the kids at 8:30) happy as a clam – my body filled with tenderness and appreciation for a most incredible family and a most fantastic holiday weekend.

Taking care

November 21, 2012November 21, 2012Leave a comment

My nephew posted this video on FB yesterday and it immediately lifted my spirits. It’s also so appropriate for this time of year – I’m gonna bike home and give Jon and the bambinos big smooches!

Lamott goodness

November 19, 2012November 19, 2012Leave a comment

I love Anne Lamott.

She tweets “My pastor’s mother Reverend Evie Goines used to tell her, “Peace is Joy at rest. Joy is peace on its feet.”

Simple but celestial. Perfect nugget for a Monday.

Gobbling up Fall

November 16, 2012Leave a comment

I love birch trees in the Fall when their leaves have nearly all dropped off and their powerful cream branches shoot up to the sky as if proclaiming “Rejoice, Smile, Be Grateful!”

I also love a little tree on our street that produces the most vibrant red berries, which twist and wind off the dainty branches and twigs possumhaw maybe?). Mario and Ri climb up that little tree and enjoy sitting on the branches as I snap pictures below.

I could swallow up those Fall days with the sun beaming just enough warmth on us that the chill in the air simply serves to keep us alert and ready for new discoveries. We find maple and oak and even poplar leaves (or so we surmise while comparing them to the pictures in our leaf book). We gather acorns. Mario performs a jig for us and we laugh so hard we fall to the grass.

Later, Mario informs us that Nukie, his imaginary friend, died today. He leads us over to the dirt by the trash cans and shows us the grave he built for him. It couldn’t have been more spectacular.

We stood in reverence to sweet Nukie for a few moments, and then began playing again. After a couple of minutes, Mario stopped Ri and I as we gathered leaves.

“Nukie is alive. He is playing over there. He just wanted to trick us!”

We wiped our brows thankful that Nukie was back with us. I asked Mario what he’d do with the grave. He told me we’d leave it there in case we ever needed it. Made complete sense. He understands at age 5 that life in all forms is fleeting, and hence all the more reason to gobble it up in the moment.

Wonder Woman Saves the Week

November 10, 2012November 10, 2012Leave a comment

This week felt like it lasted 30 days. My birthday on Monday created momentum for a perfect week but Tuesday quashed that momentum ten-fold. Work was intense and maddening with a score of phone calls every hour and fire-alarm situations. I didn’t get to vote in the morning so I was stressed all day about getting to the polls. I had this burning sensation that I would not get my vote casted in time and then NBC news would announce “Obama lost Ohio by one vote” and I’d be scarred for life.

Chalk another win up for women’s intuition. When I made it to the polls at 5:30 pm, I was excited to see only two people in line. The guy ahead of me shuffled back and forth and mumbled something to the poll worker. The worker shook his head sadly and stated “if your license is expired, you need a bank statement or utility bill.” I thought “what an idiot. How can you not check on your license before this big election?!”

And then I panicked. Hard. My birthday was November 5 – one day before the election. I was sure it had not expired this year – that would be crazy and unfair. I, not that guy in front of me, was extremely busy raising kids, working, volunteering, helping out Democrats, for goodness sake! If my license had expired, it should magically re-set to an expiration date of 2016 because that was only right.

I pulled out my license and there it was staring at me: Exp:2012. You got to be kidding me. I showed it to the worker just in case he thought it was still November 5 but I lost that one. I darted home to find a bank statement. I rummaged through garbage. I ripped out drawers. Nothing. Damn electronic banking.

Then my sitter saved me. “Fifth Third is open until 6:00 tonight”, he said matter-of-factly. Now that is cooperation and maturity. I believe him to be a Romney supporter yet he still coughed up those words that would allow me to possibly get in my vote. I high-fived him and the kids and sped to the bank. No line and a bank statement in three minutes. Thank the Lord. I got my vote in by 6:15 and all was good. But I crashed and burned when I got home from the furor of the day. Ri broke down a few hours later when we turned on the news to see the election status and I read from the tv “Romney 51% and Obama 49%.”

“My world won’t be safe, mom. Our world will never be the same if Obama loses.” Genuine fear and concern poured out of my bleeding heart liberal girl. I tried to clam her down but she sniffled herself to sleep.

She woke up at 6:15 begging to turn on the tv. She was ecstatic when she learned that Obama won. When Mario realized it was over and Obama prevailed, he switched sides and yelled “Yeah, Obama!” He is a fair-weathered fan making sure he always sides with the victor.

Jon had left for Illinois on Tuesday and caught that nasty flu going around. He got holed up in a hotel for two days and made it home Thursday with barely enough energy to make it up the stairs. Poor thing. I was going nuts by Friday morning and the kids could sense I needed an early morning run. We bundled up and Ri rode her bike while I strolled Mario. It was a glorious break from the car and the indoors where I had found myself all week.

Then, Mario dropped my iPad and it shattered. This week was not gonna give me a break.

I decided I needed to put my mind elsewhere and not go off on Mario; after all, I let him walk with it unprotected so I assumed some risk…. I went in the dining room and leafed through the mail. I had a little package from my sis! I had assumed it was for Jon as most packages are that come to our house. I ripped it open needing some type of sisterly goodness to get me in a better mood. And she did not disappoint.

Again, women’s intuition. Sar knew just what I needed with that magnet espousing power (then again, it’s a pretty sure-bet that after working, raising two kids, staying active, and volunteering all week such a magnet would be a boost for any mama).

The card’s words from Walt Whitman comforted me. I felt Sarah giving me a big Menkedick sister hug as I read Walt’s words and Sarah’s words in it. And then she topped the gift off with a photocopy of Ms. Magazine’s current issue cover. Yes, it’s Wonder Woman for all my 70’s gals who grew up watching. She got a subscription to Ms. magazine for me. I love it.

I took a step back from the table and looked at the pictures Sarah also sent of the kids and Jon at the farm. Jorge’s eye captured the kids’ joy and Jon’s manliness! I brushed my finger over them and smiled… wide and long.

Birthday No. 41

November 7, 2012November 7, 2012Leave a comment

I opened the front door and Maria dashed down the stairs and chirped “Happy Birthday!” I heard a wail from the top of the stairs. Mario mourned at the failure to wish me a happy birthday first. He showed his anger by yelling “you are the worst sister and mom ever!” And so began my 41st birthday.

Jon had a “shape it up” talk with the kids, and after 10 minutes, they arrived in our bedroom bearing cards and gifts. Maria showed me her cards first. I had told her that all I wanted for my birthday was a poem and a cool picture. I knew I was asking a lot because Ri is not a big gan of drawing unless it’s pictures of glamorous girls. I try to get her to sit down and make something but it’s always a fight. So, I wasn’t expecting anything too elaborate, if anything at all. But she came through with a quirky poem and even a picture for me. Mario drew his signature multi-colored blocks picture that I always admire and a stick figure of himself. Precious.

They also grabbed a few items from the basement to give as presents truly believing that I had never seen them before. Maria grabbed the framed baby pictures of her and Mario. Mario gave me a book I bought a long time ago at the used book store and never read titled “An Unknown Woman.” Perfect for turning 41.

I hugged them both with mad intensity and thanked them for being so generous. As we made our way downstairs, Ri looked back at me with an excited look on her face. “Are you taking off work today, mom?” I answered “I wish.” She started to pout. “I wanted to stay home with you today, mom.” And she pouted the entire way to school refusing to kiss me goodbye when she left the car.

It feels wrong and inequitable that a seven year old’s attitude can have such a negative impact on an adult. I got ready for work thinking ” It’s my fricken’ birthday and I have this attitude all around me?” Really?!

I tend to idealize how events will turn out and 95% of the time, that leads to disappointment. So I have been trying to be conscious of that habit and avoid it.

However, that habit had reared it’s ugly head on my morning run and as I stepped into our house, I framed a perfect scene with my kids and hubby greeting me at the door holding elaborate cards and smothering me with kisses. Then they’d sing happy birthday and tell me how I am the greatest mom and wife on Earth.

Seriously?! What mom has ever experienced such an event? Pretty sure not even June Cleaver.

I took a deep breath as I pulled my bike up to the front entrance of my work. I looked around me. The sun was finally out. I had gotten to bike to work. Jon was taking me out in the evening. The kids had been sweet in the morning and only hot excited because they wanted to spend MORE time with me. Really, life was pretty good.

When I walked in my office, a bright pink and black package sat on my desk with a card. All of my colleagues had signed the card and I discovered an assortment of fine chocolates in the package. Always a good way to start a day.

My busy day received welcome interruptions from distant friends and relatives sending messages and close friends and family calling.

My sister left me the most hilarious message singing “Happy Birthday To Freak” on my voice mail (it’s a Menkedick tradition to call each other “freaks.”). My mom left me a “you are still young” message reiterating how active and vibrant I remained at the ripe old age of 41. My dad and Meg left separate messages sending their love. My mother-in-law called me with good news about her heart tests and wished me a great day. My brother met out with me for a coffee and a brisk Fall walk. I received a lovely card from Jon’s brother and family. I felt immensely loved, and that’s a darn tootin’ good feeling.

After work, I received my ultimate present – Perkins Pancake House! But before we could head out, Mario pounded out some fine pieces of craftsmanship for me. He has learned quite the hand-eye coordination to hammer nails. I kept cringing as he hammered the nails into the wood but he made it through with no bloody fingers.

When we walked into Perkins, a torrent of memories flooded my brain. The muffin case, the kitchen, the booths. I waitressed at Perkins (as did many of my Heile aunts) for six years through high school and college. Waitressing at Perkins left an indelible mark on my speech – I still call people “hunny” and “dear.”. That’s all good and fine when it’s Jon or the kids but when it’s my boss, it’s not cool. I met a lot of struggling, flawed, surviving-on-a-shoestring folks working at Perkins and they taught me a heck of a lot about life. hard work, laughter, compassion, friendship to name a few. I wish I could find Annie, the bucktoothed mama of five who rode three buses to get to her morning shift at 5:30 am. Or Jessie, the black patch wearing night shift manager who carried a billy club by his side all evening. I never felt scared with him around. These folks were my extended family and I loved them dearly.

Perkins not only formed my speech but also my taste buds. I fell in love with Perkins’ food, especially the pancakes. They have a buttery lightness to them that I have not found anywhere else.

I could barely contain my excitement at work; I bragged about heading to Perkins at every meeting. People laughed thinking I was kidding. They need to make a trip and they will be converted. The men were jealous of Jon wishing their wives were as cheap of a date as me. I’d pick Perkins over Hyde Park any day.

And dang if the food didn’t taste just as good as I had imagined – absolutely delicious. I savored every last bite while the kids and Jon found immense pleasure in my giddiness. If I ever lose my job, I am heading back to Perkins.

I felt so incredibly happy when I walked out of Perkins. The kids might as well had stars swooning their bodies and Jon a halo over his head – they were my angels and had absolutely made my night by feeding me pancakes and providing me the best of company.

And asif it couldn’t get any better, it did! We picked up a Giant Eagle sheet cake and ice cream. Yes, I ate a huge piece of cake with ice cream within one hour of demolishing pancakes. What are birthdays for?

Mario sang happy birthday to me for the third time that night and Ri videotaped it (she is going to be a videographer at some point in her future). Jon wrote me a sweet card and I scored free massages and a gift certificate to FrontRunner. Nothing better.

At the end of the evening, I laid in bed staring at the muted light streaming through our blinds. I thought about the angst of my 20’s – trying to figure out who I was and what I wanted to be. My 30’s – feeding my ego, graduating law school, working in the white tower firm, marrying my man, and having two babies. And then my 40’s – starting the decade off with my girlfriends in Italy. How apropos to start my 40’s, I thought.

I think these next few years will be for me to enjoy myself – travel, take long runs, eat good food (Perkins!), watch a movie in an actual theatre, meet up with friends, read enthralling books with M&M, connect more with my siblings, get lost in Jon. Enjoy all I have accomplished and endured these last 41 years, and give myself a little break. Laugh a little more. Do something spontaneous. Be silly and wild. Dig into nature. Watch an Oscar-nominated movie. Celebrate who I am and who I love and feel comfortable in my own skin.

Ahh, nice.

"MOM!"

Adventures in the Life of a Working Mama

Category: life