Category: Women

Partyin’ with potato salad

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Jon took over the kitchen Sunday morning; there was no stopping the man.  When Mario and I got home from our run, we found him hunched over peeling potatoes into a glass bowl.  He had spices out, jars open, and utensils scattered.  It was quite a breath-taking (and rather attractive) sight.  Patty gave him the recipes to her potato salad and her baked beans, and he would not let anyone else see them or work on them.  Once he decides to cook, everyone else must scatter away from his kitchen space.  After tasting his potato salad, I am happy to give him all the space he needs.  He is a heck of a cook.  That is how he wowed me when we were dating – he’d bring me soup while I studied for the bar.

Maria and Mario and I cleaned rooms and the kitchen, and got ready for Gracie to come over.  Maria loves to babysit that girl but Maria is a tough bird.  Gracie does something bad and Maria says “Grace Ann Wells! You should not do that!”  She is everything I am not!  Discipline, structure….  god help her children.  Grace arrived at 1 pm, and yelled “Aunt Mary!”  She was glued to my hip the rest of the day except when she took a two-hour nap in the middle of the afternoon.  Maria read her The Fly Guy before her nap and when we all left the room, she babbled for fifteen minutes and then fell asleep.  That is a foreign occurrence for Jon and me.  We would have to rock M&M to sleep, rub their backs for 20 minutes, lay with them, you name it.  All of those hurdles before any sleep would occur.  And then, 9 times out of ten, they’d be up within a half an hour anyway.  So Grace is a piece of cake. 

While the gals napped, Mario played Ben Ten games on the computer.  He had his Cheez-Its next to his side as he intently concentrated on his next move.  His concentration allowed me to get the house decorated for Maggie Jean’s party.  Of course, I had felt that we had it all under control the night before but then inevitably, the day of, I find myself scrambling to get everything together.  Maggie, our graduate, arrived to the house at 4 pm after sitting in 90 degree heat for four hours.  Julie and Liz were with her – Liz having sat through graduation on Friday in Cincinnati.  We broke out the celebratory beer and chips and dip, and let the party begin!  Maria was instantly mesmerized with Maggie’s friends Sarah and Annie.  Mario acted silly with Maggie’s dad, Denny.  Gracie stayed on my hip the entire afternoon, which I loved.  Liz kept telling me to put her down but I just couldn’t do it.  She was so happy hanging out with me that I had to soak in the love. 

My aunt Terrie and aunt Ann arrived a little later.  They had not seen the house since we bought it.  They each brought me a house-warming gift from Pottery Barn (high-class aunts, I will say…), and gave accolades galore about the house.  So sweet.  I was so excited that they came up to Columbus because I don’t get to see them often.  Terrie is in Marietta, Georgia with her hubby and three boys and Ann is in Washington DC and Dubai with her job and beau.  When I was little, Terrie and Julie used to invite me over to their apartment on the West side of Cincy for sleep overs and I remember listening to slow sappy 70’s love songs on the radio.  Time with them was a treat – hanging with the older girls.  Ann is only a year and a half older than me (the youngest of eight) and I looked up to her like a big sis.  She was into serious heavy rock when she was in high school and I used to just sit in her room and watch her get dressed to go out as she banged her head to Motley Crue.  And now here we all were standing my kitchen as adults.   Life is strange. 

At one point in the evening, we brought out Dairy Queen cake for Maggie.  We were all joking about what to sing to her, what the cake said, etc. and I all of a sudden felt a rush of gratitude and joy for having the day with my aunts and cousins.  I just wanted to lean over the table and smooch ’em all on the lips but I figured that may not have come off as I would have planned so I just smiled at them all and lit the candle for Maggie to blow out.  After cake, Julie and Terrie helped me figure out the weeds versus plants in the garden.  I have a lot of weeds but weeds look like plants to me; in fact, I think I am prone to liking weeds more than plants and flowers.  They are tough cookies – not dying for anything and growing back even stronger than before.  There is something you have to respect in the weed.  But we pulled ’em out nonetheless.  We would have been out there all night if Jon wouldn ‘t have announced that there is poison ivy in the garden.  That blasted Ter and Jul out of the garden and into the bathroom to wash off.  I would have felt like a total heel if they had gotten poison ivy.  

The aunts left a while later – all three of them heading to Starbucks to get a coffee for the road.  Little do they know how much I think of them and appreciate their generosity in traveling up north to see me.  And Julie constantly opening her house to me and the kids when we are in Cincy.  It is a rare gift to receive.  With their departure, we just had Maggie and her friends left at the house.  Maria and Mario were in heaven – Mario danced to I’m Sexy and I Know It and played ball with the boys, and Maria brushed the boys’ hair so that they could “pick up rich girls.” I am sure they were wondering what they had done to deserve a night at our house. 

Everyone hit the road around 9:30 and the kids hit the sack pretty quickly.  I got to watch my HBO show, Girls, and eat the rest of the DQ ice cream cake.  What a great life.

Pushing away

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Maria refuses to come home.  She has been in Cincinnati since Friday morning when Maggie drove her down.  Just six months ago, she would have cried for her mama after one night.  Now, she tells me to stay in Columbus and not come get her.  I can see why – she is getting pedicures and manicures from Aunt Ann, time to babysit Gracie, trips to garage sales with Aunt Julie and Terrie, and attention from her grandma and all of her cousins and other aunts.  Columbus cannot compete.

It is yet another step towards independence just like her desire to ride her bike up the street all by herself.  I remember dreaming about this type of independence when she was two and a half-years old throwing her binky at me one minute and pulling on me to hold her the next.  But now it doesn’t feel quite right.  She seems too young to be moving in this direction.  I want that two and a half-year old back even if I have to take a binky in the forehead. 

Hanging with Maggie for 3 days straight!Ahh, but in thinking harder about it, I guess I don’t.  I guess I just want the affection back, and the desire to take refuge in my arms.  Intellectually, I know that how she is acting is healthy and a sign of confidence.  I remember reading an article a while back that talked about kids’ confidence levels.  A study had shown that kids who feel comfortable holding their ground with their parents (e.g., parent wants to leave but kid says she doesn’t want to leave) are typically more self-confident because their parents have given them the opportunity to not be fearful in standing their ground (now, there obviously comes a point where this self-confidence leads to bratty and obnoxious behavior and I am sure the study went on to find those kids are now occupying positions in Congress).  I think of this study when Maria acts this way to me, and chant in my head “I have made her a self-confident girl…I have made her a self-confident girl….” 

I wonder if I will feel as strongly when Mario begins to push away?  Or is it just a mother/daughter phenomena?  I harbor dreams of Maria changing this world in some way that suits her – I’d love if her suit involves curing cancer, feeding the poor, saving the environment.  But she can’t stay snuggled under her mother’s bosom and achieve any of those aforementioned feats or others.  I have the same dreams for Mario and can only assume, since he is glued to my hip, that I will feel much the same way when he decides to unravel the tie that binds us.  Maybe this process with Ri will lessen the sting a bit with Mario.  Or maybe it will be a different set of feelings that onset with that little guy.  I should have another couple of years before I find that out.

Too cool for school

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My sis is a rockin’!  She is a superstar.  She is fab.

Sarah got the writing gene in the family.  My brother got the music gene.  And I got the left-brained, analytical gene.  But between the two of them, I have added some right-brained creativity to my world (I can draw a heck of a stick man).  Back to my sis, Sarah. Did I tell you she’s a superstar…?

Maria idolizes her and when Sarah is in town, she begs to be with her.  They do Stauf’s trips together, make collages, and take the pups on walks.  Everyone sees Sarah in Maria – she definitely has Sarah’s independent streak and her contentment with alone time.  I am hoping Maria laps up Sarah’s love of reading and writing as she heads into second grade.  Maria has framed pictures of Sarah (and Sarah’s pups) on her bed stand and she asks questions about her randomly through the week.  The other day she asked if Aunt Sarah liked first grade.  I told Ri we’d have to ask her next time she was in town, and Ri chirped “is she coming soon?!”  There is no doubt that Aunt Sarah is super cool in Ri’s eyes. 

And she is even cooler in her big sister’s eyes with all that she is accomplishing.  She recently wrote a post on turning thirty, and it allowed me to see a glimpse of the struggles that she is facing with being a traveler and being a married, mom-on-the-mind, thirty-year old woman. That she opens up to the world like she did in that piece and gives others the opportunity to ponder where they are, what they are doing, or simply get some enjoyment out of a good piece of writing, is, how can I word it?  Super Cool.  About a year ago, she started an on-line magazine, Vela, for creative non-fiction writing inspired by travel and women are the only authors.  No small task but she did it.  When I opened up Facebook this afternoon, she had posted that she was quoted in a Forbes article based on her role in Vela.  Huh?! I love that I can randomly scan Facebook and find out my sis was interviewed by a Forbes writer.  Gotta love that girl.

So, this post goes out to you, my little sis, for being one cool chick.  Take refuge in the fact that you have an adoring niece who will probably be begging to live with you in the next five years, and a gushing big sis who thinks you are awesome!

Wrinkles and Moles

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I made the wise move to not volunteer to be in charge of Maria’s end if the year party this year. I figure it will be an every other year project for me.

The mom in charge of the party sent out an email to the parents about donating for a gift for the teacher. I asked Maria what she looked like so I could give her money when I dropped off Maria at school. Maria’s response:

“She’s got a clean face.”
“What’s that mean,” I asked.
“She doesn’t have wrinkles or a mole on her face like you do. Oh, and she always wears high heels with her work outfit.”

Of course. Yet another mom who ranks high for not wearing gym shoes with her work outfit. I’m used to that dis but do you really need to point out my wrinkles and mole, little lady…! I will have you know my mole has been compared to Cindy Crawford’s mole.

You ask, “Who is she?”

Never mind.

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Spending Mom’s day with the kids

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Mother’s Day begins two hours from now.  Jon asked me what I wanted to do on my special day.  In the initial moment, I thought “all I want is a day to myself.” Just head north to your mom’s house or east to your cousin’s house and let me have the day to do whatever I want whenver I want. 

But after a few seconds of mulling the question over, I realized what would happen if they did leave.  I would love the first couple of hours by myself and then I would be up at Stauf’s and see a couple with their baby and think of my pumpkins.  I would miss them and Jon and wish they were home with me even if it would require me to listen to them beg for me to play with them or read them a book or take them to the library.  Surely there would be moments during the day when I would second guess my decision and want my solitude but they would be outweighed by the joy in being with my family.  After all, could I laugh as hard as I do when Maria performs her “Oh, I know you didn’t” routine?  Or when Mario dances to a rap song?  Could I appreciate the richness of the soil without digging into it with Mario?  Could I enjoy watching a monarch butterfly fluttering around the flowers without listening to Maria talk about its delicate wings?  

No, these little pumpkins are such a big part of my world now and being without them on Mom’s Day just feels wrong.  After all, the reason I am celebrating this day is because of these two munch-balls. So, as the clock inches towards midnight, I think about our day tomorrow – play fish, throw the tennis ball, take a bike ride and get a ton of kisses and hugs from those sweet babes of mine all day long….

Cheering in the Bleachers

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Maria wanted to ride her bike tonight.  I was so tired and had not eaten dinner yet but I agreed to a bike ride because (1) it’s good exercise for her and (2) it gives us some time together after a long day at school and work.  Mario ended up meeting us at the park (Jon dropped him off because he was so upset that Maria and I had left without him).  The two of them bee-lined straight for the spruce tree with the awesome climbing branches.  Maria climbed up to nearly the top of the tree like a little monkey and Mario stared in amazement.  He got up the guts to climb up a few branches. 

While they sat on their branches, a group of boys ran over and shouted to each other about how cool it was that Maria and Mario were up in the tree.  One little boy started to climb up the tree when I heard his mom yell “Charlie, get down from there right now!”  The mom glanced over at me and shook her head in disbelief.  I could hear what was going through her head “what kind of mother would let her kids climb a tree and risk them getting hurt.”  When they finally had enough of the tree, we ran over to the swings.  I saw a mom I knew from Mario’s preschool.  She had her grapes and strawberries packaged up for her two kids.  I told her I was starving, and she offered me some.  I declined telling her that I thought we may hit Orange Leaf frozen yogurt for dinner in a bit.  “Frozen yogurt for dinner?” she questioned, amazed.  “Yep, with oreos and animal crackers – nothing better”, I responded.  Again, I could hear the bells going off in her head and the desire to cart me away to bad parents’ camp. 

So, when I got home tonight and found Harley Rotbart’s piece, Just Parent, No Philosophy Required, I took a deep breath and patted myself on the back.  We all have different parenting styles.  I am not going to shake my head at the mom who refuses to allow her kids to climb trees because maybe she had an awful experience of falling when she was little or witnessed another child have an awful experience or maybe she just gets anxious about it and doesn’t want to be sick to her stomach as they climb.  Who knows why she is prohibiting it but at least she is at the park with them allowing them fresh air and swings and slides.  And I am not going to poo-poo the fruit mom who refuses to put one unnatural food in her childrens’ bodies.  Maybe she had a parent die from cancer or maybe she is a dietician (my mom used to be a dietician but I think I rebelled completely).  I am trying so hard to not judge people – even when they may be judging me until the cows come home.  Because in the end, all three of us moms tonight were there for our kids in the park – in the metaphorical bleachers cheering them on – and that is all that matters.

Finally Vindicated

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All of those evenings of watching “Evening” and crying like a baby have made me a happier person!  Rock on!  I have known it all along ever since I started watching Terms of Endearment in sixth grade and Legends of the Fall in high school.  And now I have been vindicated with the study in Can Watching Sad Movies Make you Happier? 

I love this study!  Jon can no longer complain when I come up to bed at midnight with bloodshot eyes and ruddy nose and dried up tears.  It is only making me happier. So, ladies, get out those DVDs of Out of Africa, the Notebook, and Dead Man Walking, and shed those tears in order to bust out that smile later.

Goodnight, Grandma

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My grandma died on Saturday.  She passed.  She left us.  She moved on.  However one wants to characterize it, she is gone.  The woman who fed me pringles and coke as we watched the Love Boat.  The woman who awed me with her confidence and devotion.  The mother who raised my dad. The great-grandma who laughed with my kids as they jumped into her swimming pool.  The friend who traveled all over the world.  The faithful servant who took meticulous care of her employer’s accounts for 40 years.  Gone.     

Good timesI miss her.

I spent the last days with her. First at the hospital and then at hospice. 

I held her hand at the hospital.  All night.  She let me know that I was a good grand-daughter and she loved me. I kissed her forehead.  I shared my favorite memories with her.  She smiled.  We held hands in silence.  And then she looked at the ceiling and whispered “thank you for everything … and now, goodnight.”  She closed her eyes.  Something out of a movie, I thought.  She said her goodbye and will now go peacefully.  It did not play out quite that way.  She would fall asleep for a minute and then wake up seemingly irritated that she was still in the hospital room.  She was ready to go. 

The next day, she moved to hospice.  My sis stayed with her the first two nights sleeping on the ground in her sleeping bag.  My grandma surprised us and ate oatmeal and drank orange juice in the mornings.  I stayed with her Friday night and she was clearly not doing as well as she had been doing in days’ past.  I held her hand, nonetheless; she had no problem maintaining her grip around my palm as she slept.  When my dad arrived in the morning, I was wiped out.  Physically and emotionally.  Jon and the kids came down Saturday late morning.  Maria stood by her side and told her that she loved her.  Mario stared at her and said goodbye.  Jon sat in the corner thinking of past times with her.  We left to take the kids to my aunt’s house.  I got a call from my dad not long after our departure.

“She’s passed, Mary.”

“What? How?”

He explained to me that she simply fell asleep and did not wake up.  No pomp and circumstance.  No fireworks.  That is how she was.  She did not want anyone to fuss over her.  She wanted her independence.  She wanted to be the provider for her family.  She wanted to reach into her dishwasher and retrieve cookies for her great-grandkids.  She wanted to grab a bag of Cheetos from her popcorn tin and give them to me for the ride home. She wanted to have everyone over on Christmas for ham and potatoes.  She wanted to love fully and completely. 

I surprised myself with my lack of outward emotion at her wake and funeral.  I assume I felt like I had to be fairly composed for the kids and the guests.  I, after all, am her oldest grand-daughter.  I did shed some tears during the mass as the soloist sang “Be Not Afraid”, a song I remember hearing when attending mass with Grandma.  Maria and Mario both took their kleenex and wiped under my eyes and my nose.  Maria rubbed my back while Mario explained to me that “Grandma was really old” and “you knew she may die, mom. It’s ok. Everyone dies, mom.” 

My babies. 

Jon wrapped his arm around me after Communion.  My sis gave me a huge kiss during Peace.  Jon’s mom hugged me tight before Mass.  My dad patted my back and told me he loved me as we stared at Grandma’s casket.  Meg made sure I was hanging in.  Jack smiled at me as we listened to the priest. Meg’s sisters embraced me at the cemetery.  My girlfriends smiled at me as I walked up the church aisle.  Love floated everywhere those two days.  Grandma would have liked that.

Making our way

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The kids woke up at the break of dawn again Sunday morning.  Jon and I heard them in Maria’s room talking quietly, probably about superheros or barbies.  Jon got out of bed first and shut the door behind him to allow me to continue dozing.  That is true love. 

When I finally dragged my tired butt out of bed 20 minutes later, I found Maria on my Ipad playing Pet Shop (her favorite game now) and Alana and Mario fighting it out on Wii Table Tennis.  They would take turns rubbing a win in the other’s face and then when the other rubbed it in his or her face, they would cry about it.  They are competitive as heck together – something Maria is not.  Maria wants everyone to win and every time she starts a game, she prefaces it by saying “Let’s just play for fun.”  To the contrary, Mario prefaces it with “I am gonna whoop you up!”  However, he wants a fair fight – he doesn’t just want to whoop you up without a good fight.  So, when I could not figure out how to shoot in basketball Wii, he stopped the game to tutor me so that I could give him a run for his money.  He continued to whoop on me a bit but then I stole the ball from him.  He gave me a look of amazement.  He wanted to congratulate me but he also wanted to win.  So he just shook his head and kept playing. 

Meanwhile, Maria just kept playing Pet Shop.  She bought two new kittens and some pups and a fish.  She arranged them all and proudly showed them off to us.  Then, when she decided to play Wii, and lost badly to Mario, she got angry.  “I hate these games!”  Mario looked at her kindly and explained “Maria, you have to practice a lot to get good. I practice a lot.”  She shook her head at him in disgust.

The girls and I headed to Washington Courthouse to meet up with my Cincy girls for brunch.  We ate at Bob Evans – my new favorite restaurant because of their breakfast food.  I could eat their eggs and hash browns with onions and bacon and multi-grain pancakes everyday.  I choose the multi-grain pancakes because it makes me feel like I am being healthy but after I eat three of them with syrup, I don’t feel too healthy.  In fact, I have learned to make sure to wear sweats when I head to Bob Evans so that I am not uncomfortable after my meal.  Maria takes after her mom – she got chocolate chip pancakes and bacon. Alana did, too, but only ate half of her food.  Maria and I swooped in like vultures and finished it off.  Maria hugged on Grace through  the meal.  Kathy is so good about letting Maria hold her and walk her.  Maria loves it.  She has got the babysitter gene in her body – something I never had.  My girlfriends and I talked for a bit over breakfast but between Gracie grabbing our attention and the quick service, I felt like we didn’t get to talk for too long.  I must still be spoiled from Italy. 

The girls and I headed to the outlet mall after our meal and tried to find clothes for my Cancun trip with Jon next week.  Just shoot me.  Is there any store in that outlet mall that has a mirror that flatters?  Maria and Alana just kept saying “You are having a baby!”  Nothing like that comment to stroke your ego.  I was ready to buy a mumu and call it a day.  I did score some pretty jewelry but no hot dresses.  I should just stick with Target.

Mom and Mario

When Maria and I got home, we found out Mario was spending the night with Jon’s mom and dad.  He loves spending the night with them because he is spoiled like crazy and he gets out of school.  He cracks them up as much as he cracks us up, too.  Patty took him to the store and they looked through the toy aisle.  He wanted a toy and Patty told him it was too much money.  His response: “Grandma, you need to get a job and earn some money!”  Patty bought him some boots, and he is charged because he can “track animals” now.  I miss my boy like a mad woman.  It is nice to have him visit Patty and Joe – the break with just Maria means a lot to her and us – but after a day or two, I miss his contagious smile and his wild antics and his bear hugs.  I let Maria sleep on the couch while i watched the rest of the movie “The Way” starring Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez (my old 80’s crush) as father and son (just like real life).  It is a tender film about a father who loses his son while the son is on a pilgrimage to El Camino de Santiago.  The father decides to take the pilgrimage on his behalf and meets up with a few quirky pilgrims who he befriends by the end.  It is a wonderful tale of understanding and opening up and taking a leap.  And it put Maria to sleep in ten minutes. 

Sick girl calling her grandma

Maria was sick today.  She woke not feeling right but we forced her off to school, if only because we had to work, but got the call at 10 am that she was not doing well at school.  I picked her up and brought her home.  I rubbed her back while she watched Toy Story 3.  I made her soup.  I laid with her.  When she got a second wind, I tickled her and laughed with her.  We made “nests” out of the covers on our bed and slept in them.  We stared out the window at the tree cutters.  We cuddled.  Not a bad day at all.  Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and she is trying with all of her might to get better so she can hit her class party.  Mario could care less.  He begged to stay with Patty and Joe.  Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Purposeful girlfriend

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I called my girlfriend tonight as I walked out of work.  I usually never get a hold of her – we keep up with each other by leaving long-winded messages on voicemail.  Buy tonight she answered.  And we laughed. I needed that.

K is my soul-mate girlfriend.  We have known each other since first grade.  We are both highly opinionated and strong-willed.  We both believe in ourselves and stand up for our principles. We both are attorneys who have experienced all of the stress and politics of law firms.  We both believe in supporting organizations that care for the underprivileged.  We both hate the suburbs.  The only difference I can think of is the one we had a while back over who should be the 2008 candidate for President (she was for Hillary and I was for Obama; I should have listened to Kath).

K became a mama a little over a year ago when she adopted her precious baby girl. Now, in addition to talking about the woes of practicing law or the aches and pains of turning 40, we talk about raising kids.  Tonight, we discussed our never-ending search for our purpose in life.  K found herself running to the mall to buy something and then walking around for an hour looking at books promising to provide the meaning of life.  I told her I searched the internet last night for an hour googling “meaning of life” and “life’s purpose.”  Searching, searching, searching.  I don’t think it’s a bad activity but I also think that I could probably realize just as much if I allowed myself to take time to meditate and have some quiet time.  Then again, I would probably be like Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love when she goes to the meditation school, sits down to meditate, and can only think about the twenty things she has to do and how she is being bad because she is not “meditating.”

M&M experiencing the joys of sliding!

We got on the conversation of kids.  Aren’t we supposed to feel happy and fulfilled because we have kids?  We are raising these helpless little creatures and showing them an exciting world where they can experience adventure and wonder.  What more can we ask for in life?  Obviously, lots.  Our conversation took me back to an article in 2008 in the Daily Beast.  The article reported studies that found that parents are less happy than non-parents.  More stressed, more depressed. Makes you want to take some birth control ASAP, heh?!  The article opines that maybe it’s because we are having kids at a later age and we look back to our 20s and even 30s and think “I loved having that martini with my girlfriends after work” or “How great was it to wake up on Saturday morning at 10 am, go for a run, and spend the day watching old movies.” None of those activities will see the light of day when babes arrive in the house.  Hell, I’m lucky to be ten minutes into a movie without some form of interruption whether it’s a kid crying or a toddler peeing the bed.

But the article did end with an interesting tidbit.   Although parents reported being less happy, they did find greater purpose in life when having children.  K and I agree that having our babes does push the purpose bar of our life up quite a bit.  There is no doubt that raising kids and experiencing the joys and depth of emotion that kids bring to you is purposeful. But it is not our only purpose.  And there we stand.  Still trying to search for that additional purpose for why we are here.  What more we can do in the second half of our lives to feel that we made the most out of this one, precious life?  It drives us nuts on many a day – we call one another and question “why can’t we just be content in our jobs and with our babies and our husbands and our homes?”  Don’t we “have it all?”  Obviously not.  In the end, as much as we joke that we wish we could just be unaware and unquestioning. I think it is yet another strength that we both carry.  Our ability to always search for more, to always push ourselves to grow, to always ask questions.  To have a girlfriend that I know is questioning right along side of me even if she is 100 miles away, provides a comfort to me that cannot be provided by any other soul.