Pelotonia

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I biked in my second Pelotonia ride today.  Last year I biked 102 miles.  This year I wimped out and only did the 43 mile route.  With everything going on with the house showings, Maria’s recent back to school tirade, and the lack of free weekends we have over the next four weeks, I thought it was best to call it a day at 11:30 versus 3:00 (43 miles versus 102).  I woke up this morning officially at 5:25 am but I had been tossing and turning with Jon all night because of two little monsters that kept getting in bed with us.  And then, if that wasn’t bad enough, Mario coughed in my ear half the night.  By 5:25 am, I was ready to hop out of bed.  I threw on my running gear and headed out listening to BBC.  I haven’t gone out in the pitch black like that since the Winter time when it stays dark late until 8 am.  It was a little freaky.  At one point, a truck pulled up behind me on a side street and followed me two blocks until he finally pulled in a driveway.  I kept picturing myself getting jumped and thrown in the back of the truck and killed with M&M never seeing their mama again (way too many horror flicks when I was 10 years old).  I ran about 5 miles and came back to throw on my biking gear and to head to the Pelotonia event.  The madhouse was in full effect when I arrived – over 4000 riders ready to take off down Olentangy River Road.

My gal colleagues

The event is for a worthy cause – the fight to end cancer.  It is a sight to behold the thousands of people gathered together with bike helmets on and bikes a tow.  I am used to runners.  Runners are less glossy and more rugged.  They are out on the road striking the pavement for hours in a pair of shorts and tank top and running shoes.  Bikers are more polished and tidy.  They are decked out in their shiny lycra and spandex shirts and shorts with five pockets all over them for water bottles and bananas and fruit bars.  They wear their tiny clip-in shoes and sparkling helmets.  Now, I admit to some generalization because I have met some high rolling runners in my time (still remember the one with matching asics tank top and running shorts (not even long enough to cover his entire buttocks) and bright-colored running shoes and waist belt with gel shots).  But bikers seem to be overall a little bit more glamorous and high-maintenance than runners.  You could tell the hard-core bikers; they had scuffed up bikes and used water bottles.  Helmets that had been scraped up and tight calves.  You could tell the newbies; they had their shiny new bikes with bright-colored water bottles.  Helmets that beamed at you and clipped shoes they were trying to force into the clips without falling.  But no matter expert or novice, everyone came together on this day to ride for one cause – to beat cancer – and that makes the event so inspiring.  You don’t bike for more than a mile or two without bystanders cheering for you and thanking you for riding in the event.  Signs hang everywhere thanking you for riding for someone’s mom or brother or friend.  It is humbling. 

What was even more of a treat this year was that I had my babes waiting for me at the finish line cheering me on as I rounded the corner from the side road.  Jon was standing over them waving at me (my ultimate cheerleader who roots me on for these events all the time) and they jumped up and down yelling “Go Mom!”  When I got off my bike to hug them, Maria immediately asked “Are you sweaty?”  When I told her yes, she let me know she would hug me later.  I took them to the food and drink tent and we ate chips and oranges.  Maria wanted a pb&j sandwich so bad but I refused to allow her to tak a sandwich from one of the bikers who would need it.  “But mom, I am starving!”  This is after a burrito and a donut an hour earlier.  She is my girl. 

We drove back home and decided to hit the library and Maggie’s new apartment for a tour.  Mario thought we would definitely take the car since I rode 43 miles.  Maria knew better: “Mario, you know mom is not going to waste energy; besides she is not even tired.”  Mario looked at me and nodded knowing his fate would be the stroller and not the car watching movies.  I made it up to him at the library though.  He got three DVDs of Spiderman, Looney Tunes, and Tom & Jerry.

New kicks and patience

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New kicks!

We had a showing on Wednesday night from 5 to 6:00 and 8 to 9:00 so the kids and I strolled down to the Lennox Center to buy some new school shoes (Maria has lived in flip-flops all summer).  They each found two pairs of shoes – Maria finally invested in a sweet pair of Nikes along with a pair of black and pink funky Skecher gym shoes.  She only chose those two pairs after beggin’ me for a pair of high heels that were at least three inches off the ground (obviously adult shoes).  I was tempted to buy them for her to watch her twist an ankle within two minutes of wearing them but because I am a nice mom, I just told her “no.”  

Mario fell in love with a pair of converse basketball shoes.  And a pair of Nikes.  He had to try them both on two different times in order to make sure that they looked ok and that he could run fast in them.  At one point, an older lady approached him and commented that his converse shoes were cool “tennis” shoes.  He immediately corrected her and told her “they are not tennis shoes – they are basketball shoes.”  Then he went on to tell her he was going to play basketball and football and hockey.  She smiles politely and moved on down the aisle.  Mario looked at me and rolled his eyes “She thought these were tennis shoes, mom.”

We left the shoes store and hit Bob Evans for some chocolate chip pancakes and french toast.  I could eat Bob Evans’ pancakes every meal, especially with chocolate chips in them.  Mario loves them, too but without whipped cream or syrup (freak child).  Maria has taken to french toast lately with lots of syrup and whipped cream.  She loves sausage links, too.  We sit at the bar every time and get waited on by the same young waitress who is studying to be a teacher.  She asks Maria all sorts of questions about first grade and she lets Mario flirt with her waitress friends.  She also lets me order off the kids menu so I can get a bunch of random items for $1.99 each (pancakes and bacon with grilled cheese this time). 

 

Mario in his new shoes

After Bob’s, we headed home to take showers to be clean for Maria’s first day of school.  After showers, Mario put on his new converse shoes.  He asked me to tie his shoelaces for him and all hell broke loose.  The right shoelace was not tied exactly the way the left one was tied.  Then when I re-tied the left one, it wasn’t tied just like the right.  Then the right one had too big of loops and the left had too big of a knot.  It took 20 minutes to get it right and even then he wasn’t completely happy with it.  I struggle over how far to let his compulsiveness go.  He is only three (soon to be four).  If you work with him, he eventually feels satisfied.  I feel like it is good to do that for him – to take our time and gently deal with his compulsiveness.  But then there are the days that we have to get Maria to school by 8:15 and its 8:05 and he is still trying to place the top strip of his shoe perfectly on the bottom velcro strip.  On those days, I have to finally give him one more try and then just make him leave it as is so we can get to school.  When he flips out, I can usually stay calm and explain that I gave him time to do it but we have a deadline that morning that we cannot miss.  Every once in a while, I am not that sane and I simply go into crazy mom mode and scream “Mario, we have got to go – just put on the daggone shoes and move!”  Likewise, Mario usually makes the deadlines once he knows I am serious.  Every once in a while he goes into crazy son mode and scream “Mom, these are not perfect and I will not leave this house!”  In the end, we respect each other’s mania, and let it go as part of life.  Of course, Maria always stands up for Mario and tells me “Mom, he is just a baby boy and you need to calm down.  Just calm yourself…”   And, she is right.  Mario has taught me patience – a virtue I have always struggled with since I was a child.  I like to think I am a little better because of him.

Summer’s End

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Maria started first grade today.  There we all stood at 8:05 this morning waiting for the side doors to the school to open.  Parents huddled together chatting about how quickly the summer flew by and how old the kids looked.  The kids stood at guard against their parents thighs anxious and nervous to start another year. 

Maria woke up this morning in a pleasant, calm mood (much better than she had been the night before – worried and cranky about starting school).  She wore a dress that Mama Ionno had bought her this Summer.  One thing I love about my girl is that she was not all about buying new outfits for school.  She is like her parents that way – Jon and I rarely go out to shop; only in desperation.  I could not believe the number of women who asked her if she bought a new dress for the first day of school.  It didn’t bother her though – she simply replied with a “uh-uh” and moved on her merry way.  Of course, I act as if she is some holier than thou girl who shuns all material goods.  I must admit that when I asked her what she wanted to do before her first day of school, she did not say “go shopping” much to my liking but she did say “Get a manicure and pedicure.”  And after getting a manicure and pedicure, I realized it would have been a lot cheaper to just buy a dress!

Maria's pedi (including a peace sign)

When the first bell rung, we all herded through the doors and up the stairs to Maria’s Room 203.  Her teacher hastily greeted us and took our paperwork and invited Maria to have a seat.  Maria had a book about Arthur at her seat.  She liked that.  She is sitting at a table with two boys.  I am sure she liked that, too.  She sat in her seat and put on her name tag.  She looked like a lot of the other kids.  Nervous; bewildered; slightly excited.  I kept giving her hugs and kisses until she finally said in an exasperated tone “Mom” and shooed me out with her hand.  She is no longer my baby kindergartener. 

I left work early to pick her up from school.  She smiled so big when she saw me which makes all of the make-up work I had to do tonight on the computer so worth it.  But when she walked up to me, the first thing out of her mouth was not “I love you mom; thanks for getting me.” No, instead it was “Where’s Zach?”  Zach is her new best friend who lives one block over from us.  She walked home with Zach and Zach’s mom and I tried like mad to get them to talk about their first day of school.  They just goofed off and ignored us.  We did learn that Maria’s favorite part of the day was lunch and that recess is before lunch this year.  But that was about it. 

Reading Arthur

She got homework for tonight – she had to find three things that reflect who she is or what she likes.  She chose a flag of Michigan since she loved to vacation there with Jon and me; a pair of goggles since she loves to swim; and a marker because she likes to draw.  She did not want to read with me for ten minutes and when I tried to help her pronounce words, she got flustered.  We stuck with one book only tonight.  Baby steps – we still have another nine months to go…

Tearing up Kings Island!

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We tore up Kings Island yesterday!  On Wednesday, I watched the weather report for the rest of the week.  They called for beautiful weather on Thursday and Friday and storms all weekend.  Maria starts school this coming week and I had been wanting to do something special with her for the last week.  I pulled up Kings Island’s website and took a look at the rides.  I debated back and forth on whether to take the dive.  I finally called my girlfriend who has a Season’s Pass and asked her what she thought about taking M&M to the park.  She sealed the deal when she told me she had coupons for $20 a person to get into the park (normally $59 and $39).  Now was the time to brave it.

We woke up on Friday morning and gathered up our suits and shoes and movies and workbooks.  A couple of granola bars, waters and movies later (Maria found the headphones for the video player in the car so she gets to watch hers and Mario watches his (not spoiled at all)), we were already at the park.  The kids stood in awe of the gigantic roller coaster 100 feet away, and listened to the screams of the riders.  Mario exclaimed “Mom, you and dad could not ride that because you would be so scared!”  I asked him if he would ride it and to my surprise he said “No way!”  He is normally my daredevil.  Maria said she would though – she is my daredevil lately. 

Looking down below

We charged in the gates with our bag of cheese pretzels, raisins, waters, and cheese and crackers.  Jill pointed us to Kiddie Land.  The first ride we saw was the Boo Monster ride.  The line was just slightly out the door and the clock indicated that it would be a 30 minute wait.  Maria and Mario begged to go on it.  I was hopeful that they put the little hands on 30 minutes with the thought that you would probably get in within 15 minutes but if you didn’t, you would not get so irritated.  My hopes were shattered when we moved into the cave and there was a line twirling around 6 lanes.  I did not think that Maria and Mario would do too well in that line but they surprised their mama.  They barely whined at all as we crawled through the lanes and got to the ride.  Mario hung on the bars and danced to the music and Maria stood in her own little world thinking about what 6-year-old girls think (?!).  The ride was pretty lame by my standards, and I think Maria felt the same way.  Mario, on the other hand, loved it because it involved using a plastic gun to try to shoot ghosts and goblins that popped up while on the ride.  Any ride that involves guns and violence will win my boy over.

We moved over to a couple of “kiddie” rides (helicopters, cars, etc.) and then we made our way to the log floom.  My favorite when I was a kid.  My girlfriend, Beth and I would stand in line for an hour or longer just to get on this ride and get soaked by the water as we plunged down the hill.  I told stories about Beth and me while we waited.  Luckily, we were there early enough to only have to wait about a half hour before getting on the ride.  Mario had already taken off his shirt and shoes before we got in the boat.  Unfortunately, the workers made him put on his shoes.  This really bothered my little man.  He did not want to get his gym shoes wet.  Maria wore her suit, too and had begged to wear her flip-flops so she was in a good state.  When the boat took off, Mario wanted the front.  By the time we had moved 100 feet, water had splashed in the boat and gotten his shoes wet.  “I don’t like this ride, mom!”  I calmed him down until we got ot the top of the hill and got ready to take the plunge.  maria was so excited.  And then, swoosh!  We flew down the hill and Mario and I got a decent soaking (not as good as my teenage days)!  Maria was in the back so she didn’t get as much (and she is the one that wanted it!).  Mario stepped out of the boat pissed as can be.  “Mom, I never want to go on that again – my shoes are so wet and my hair is messed up!”  Yeah, I kid you not. 

Mario still contemplating the telescope

In order to make it up to him, I took them to the “Eiffel Tower.”  We rode up on the glass elevator and my stomach sunk with each additional foot we rose.  I cannot hang with heights any more.  When we stepped off, the kids darted straight to the edge to look down.  It took me two minutes to gain my composure and head their way.  Mario yelled “Mom, come here, you can see Africa and North Carolina!”  Maria wondered where Grandma Lolo and Grandma Menkedick lived.  They loved it.  I was happy when they wanted to head down ten minutes later.  Next, we went to the games area.  Why?  I still have that competitive kid in me that wants to win a stuffed animal.  When Beth and I went to the park, we spent hours at the games trying to win animals (how did we have that money?!).  I loved the bowling game (probably because it only cost 25 cents).  You have to push the bowling bowl over one hill and make it stay in the valley and not come back over the hill again.  It is hard as heck but when I was young, I had some knack for it.  I won many a stuffed bear and monkey playing that game.  As an adult, not so  lucky.  Maria and Mario and I tried numerous times and only left frustrated.  We moved to the slingshot game and the plinko but no wins.  Our only hope was the Guess your Weight or Birthdate game.  Maria walked up and asked the girl to guess her weight.  She got on the scale and topped 63 pounds.  The girl had guessed 59 and could only be off by three.  She won!  Mario was next and I knew should guess his weight so we did birth month.  She guessed May and she had to be within 2 months so Mario won!  Maria took two seconds to pick out her bear.  Mario took 20 minutes.  He could not choose between a telescope (that would have cost a $1 at the dollar store) and a whale stuffed animal.   He begged for both of them.  He finally chose the darling whale.  When we walked over to watch another game he told me he wanted the telescope.  We went to exchange it and he begged me again to let him have both.  After ten minutes, he decided to keep the whale but kept mouthing to me “And the telescope.”  He never stops.  As we left, he tried to bargain to come back to KI on Saturday to get the telescope.  He knows how to keep the pressure on.

Maria enjoying the lazy river

After the games, we were all starting to break down a bit.  The kids were leaning back in the stroller holding their animals and I was moving a lot slower.  But no rest for the weary!  We decided to trek it over to the waterpark for some water fun!  I asked where is was located and a worker told me where to catch the tram.  I asked if I could walk, and he laughed.  “Sure, but most people take the tram.”  When we got to the tram pick-up, I saw a path to the park.  I decided to walk with the kids.  The waterpark could not have been 1000 feet from the tram pick-up.  It would have taken more time to load up the stroller than to walk.  People need to move more.  ALl sorts of different folks packed the waterpark.  We hit the shallow pool and then moved onto the slides and squirters.  I got rather freaked at that station because I could not keep a good eye on Maria.  Mario was so cold that he clung to me but when Maria went up the stairs and through all of the jungle gym squirty stuff, I lost her.  I watched the slides hoping to see her.  Nothing.  I ran to the other side.  Nothing.  I ran back and climbed the steps. Nothing.  Finally, I looked down and saw her going down the slide.  “Maria!” SHe looked at me and it was love at first sight.  One of life’s greatest feelings – to find your kid when you think they are missing.  I warned her that she had to stay close.  Some of these parents just let their kids go on their own throughout the area but I am so not one of them.  I know I am going to be bad when she gets to the age that she can go off by herself – I get anxious already about the day.  We rode the lazy river next.  Mario and I got in an inner tube for about 3 minutes and then we were ready to walk and end the trip.  Maria, on the other hand, laid back in her inner tube, head propped on the headrest and eyes closed.  She enjoyed every minute of it.  

Family pose waiting for a ride (with Mr. Comedian)

After the water park, we headed back to the rides for some bumper cars (Mario loved hitting other kids’ cars but was mad he did not hit enough) and the “mini” roller coaster (cars go around in a circle and speed up around the corner).  We also hit a little bigger roller coaster that actually had a hill to it (albeit small) and Maria sat in the front and held up her arms.  Mario leaned into my chest to hide.  You get the picture of the daredevil in the family, heh? 

I finally persuaded them to leave the park 6 1/2 hours later by telling them we would go to McDonald’s play land up the street.  Yeah, I am not kidding.  I was craving a hamburger anyway.  I just needed out of the park, too.  The kids played in the Playland; we saw Grandma Lolo; and I loaded up on Diet Coke and fries to steer us back to Columbus.  On the way home, Maria and Mario held their animals tight as they watched the rest of their movies.  When we got home, Maria begged me to sleep with her.  I said no at first but then the thought of lying horizontal sounded too good.  I tapped her shoulder as she laid in her bed, and she came running into my room.  We laid together talking about KI and school and how much we would miss our house when we moved.

Ronald McDonald visited us!

Selling a House = Painful

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We have had eight showings of the house since we listed it two weeks ago.  Not bad, I am told by my agent and others.  But I can’t help but still be down in the dumps about this whole process.  It is a time killer and emotionally taxing.  We spent hours and hours getting the house to a point where it did not look like we had children – all of their toys and our extra “stuff” is shoved in corners and closets and in the attic and basement and garage.  Nearly every night, Jon or I are scolding the kids to pick up their toys and not drop a crumb on the floor.  Last night, I chastised Maria about getting toothpaste in the sink (I got the “Really, mom, really?” response which immediately made me laugh and see the ridiculousness of it all). 

M&M showing what they'd do if they lived by themselves

And, I never dreamed that I would take the rejection so personal.  When we got the buyer’s reasons for declining the house, one reason was that it was “underwhelming” to them.  My first thought “take this “underwhelming” fist and shove it…” My blood pressure shot up and has remained in the “Above” range for the last two weeks as I continue to be inundated with rejections.  Jon and I should have known it would be this way because too many people told us that we would sell this place immediately: “You will have no problem selling your house – its in a great location; great curb appeal….”  Complete jinx.  Granted, it has only been listed for two weeks, but it feels like two years. 

Last weekend, we had a couple walk through for the second time.  We got the house completely scrubbed down, flowers everywhere, window sills sparkling.  They called our realtor within 15 minutes and told him they were going to put in an offer.  By 5 pm, we had it.  $30,000 lower than our asking price with a ton of contingencies.  Still, we kept hope alive and gave them a reasonable counteroffer back.  They never responded.  Finally, their realtor called ours and told him they weren’t interested any longer because we were too far apart monetarily.  Whatever – my irritation and frustration have been mellowed by sheer exhaustion from cleaning the house, loading up Cy to take to my parents’ apartment, and stuffing things away in closets. 

Maria keeps reassuring me that we will sell the house and if we don’t, it’s ok.  She and Mario can live in this house and Jon and I can live in the other for a while.  “I know how to clean, mom.  And I help you cook pancakes all the time.  Mario and I will be fine.”  If they had the mortgage money, she would have the keys.

“Really, mom? Really?”

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Maria first said it a few weeks ago to Jon as we were eating dinner.  Jon called her a name of a friend of hers that can act spoiled at times.  Maria stopped eating, clocked her head sideways at him, and said “Really, dad? Really?”  Jon and I about spit out our food.  Since that time, I have been the recipient of the “really” question when I try to be goofy around Maria and her friends (yeah, it is already starting) or I tell Maria something that makes no sense (which is more frequent than I would like – what happens to the mind with kids!). 

Maria continues to come into her personality.  She has such a great mixture of Jon and I.  She is quick-witted and observant like her dad and empathetic and thoughtful like her mom.  She can notice things an adult would typically notice and comment on (“Did you buy new pillows for the couch?”) and put up a fit like an adult (i.e., her mother).  The other day, Mama Meg had to wake her up to go to the stables (note to all: Maria is not pleasant to wake from a nap).  She threw a fit, stomping around, pouting.  Finally, after fifteen minutes she bellowed “I can’t handle this anymore!”  I am sure she picked up that line from me during one of my tirades.  She is a doll baby with the little kids on the street.  She watches over them like a mother hen and explains what everything is to them in slow, baby language.  And the kids adore her.  She can also sit with a bunch of adults and keep up with the conversation adding her two cents in or her dig in with the best of ’em.  She also dresses to her own style completely.  We used to laugh about my little sis, Sarah, and her attire because my dad would drape her in long plaid skits and multi-colored shirts and beat-up shoes.  Maria dresses that way naturally.  My old soul girl.

Then there is Mario who learns so much from his sis.  He has resorted to the “Really, mom, really?” question lately.  Of course when I asked him where he learned it, he smiled that sly smile and stated “Ria.”  He also learned how to talk smack to Jon when they are play fighting.  Maria started this a while back when her and Jon were play fighting in her room.  She busted out “You wanna piece of me?” Since that time, it has ranged from “come on, boy, I will take you down” to “you think you can handle me?”  Yesterday, Mario gave the two finger warning to Jon when he took his index and middle fingers and pointed them at his eyes and then at Jon’s eyes declaring “I will take you down.”  It was hysterical. 

Mario continues to deepen his love for super heroes.  He wants to watch them all the time, and he plays with them in the tub, in his room, and with Jon and me.  When I took him to the pool today, he slashed away at the fountains acting like he was a good superhero and they were bad guys.  He begged me to be Venom while he was Spiderman so that he could fight me and throw me underwater (I spent 15 minutes getting thrown underwater – I really deserve a mom of the year medal).  Mario is also really into his muscles.  They are not that big because he is so small but I have to admit, he is one cut three-year old.  He is always taking his shirt off and looking at them, and he constantly notices other men with big muscles.  Runners without shirts intrigue him (“Look at that boy’s muscles, mom!”).  He thinks his dad can pick up anything because of his big muscles.  He has taken to taking off his shirt in front of the mirror and flexing his muscles and puffing out his chest and yelling “Look at these muscles!”  I guess it all ties into the super hero theme but boy I hope he doesn’t have some massive ego when he gets older.  I can see him strutting his stuff down Grandview Avenue loving the thought of all the girls ogling over him.  Then again, what am I thinking?  Maria will so put him in his place.

Sweet Gal Cousins

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Some of the cousins on Easter

I have the greatest cousins.  I am the oldest child to the oldest sister of the Heile family so I have eleven years over my eldest cousin.  Then it gradually increases in years up to 25  or so.  We all have our idiosyncracies and varied beliefs and traditions but despite all of this, most of us are pretty tight knit, especially the gals.  Laura, my oldest cousin and Maggie, born five or so years later, have both graced Jon and I with their presence in Columbus at some time over the last few years.  Laura lived up here for a couple of years and Maggie lived up here throughout college and now during grad school. 

Laura is forthright and imperturbable.  She can party like a LA girl but can also sit around the house all afternoon play fighting with Mario or braiding Maria’s hair.  She has an answer to any question.  I can ask a question about a kind of plant and she will chime in with a quick answer and then ask about how to handle an ice cream brain freeze and she is just as quick with a response.  I envy her straight-forwardness and ability to tell it like it is.  I have always tread away from correcting people when they are wrong about something, e.g., Person: “George Bush was a democrat.” Me: “Really? Ok.” Conversation continues.  I feel like any correction – even if it would benefit the person in the end – would be taken too harshly so I avoid it.  A trait I want to work on because I know the value of constructive feedback.  On the other hand, if someone told Laura that Bush was a democrat, she would not hesitate to tell that someone that Bush was a republican.  On the same note, I know I can go to Laura for a straight answer if I just got my hair done and I am hesitant about whether it looks whacked or not.  She will tell me straight up I need to head back to the salon. 

Mag and Laura and the kids

Maggie is a good-hearted, all-american college gal.  She is a lot like her mama, my Aunt Julie.  She has the same mannerisms (e.g., biting her cheek and nails) and traditions (e.g., smacking your butt really hard in jest).  She does not take any grief from Maria or Mario – if they give her lip, she addresses it.  If they hit, she disciplines.  If they ask her to get them something, she tells them to walk over themselves.  Give these kids of mine a week with her and they would be whooped into shape.  But she also shows them love and tenderness and has taught Maria a very important fact about boys.  “Always date someone who is also your friend.”  Maria took that one to heart.

Laura and Maggie came by on Saturday after their night out on campus and we went to the pool.  Maria got to show off jumping off the high dive and Mario got to show off by doing power rangers’ moves off the low dive.  Maria hung with her girl cousins and role models while I made sure Mario kept his paws off the girls at the low dive (he tried to squeeze them).  Laura and Maggie had a diving board contest during adult swim with Maria rating their jumps – I think Maggie pulled it out.  When we got home, Laura braided Maria’s hair in the cutest style ever.  Maria looked like a young teen model – scary.  They also spiked Mario’s hair up to the sky, which he loved.  We walked to the yogurt shop for some yummy dessert and watched Maria do her runway catwalks for us.  She loved the attention and time with them. 

I missed them when they left Saturday evening.  I love their influence on the kids, especially Maria.  And I love the girl power they bring with them when we are together.

Summer Days at the Track

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Maria got to head up north to Mama Ionno’s house today with her cousin Alana.  I packed up her Barbie dolls and a pile of clothes and shipped her off with Jon this morning.  Patty once laughed about my packing style versus my sister-in-law’s style.  I just throw in a pile of shirts and shorts and undies and socks and nightie tops and bottoms into a big bulky duffel bag.  My sister-in-law packs a set of clothes for each day, nicely folded and set gently into a nice-sized canvas bag.  Oh, the world takes all types…, heh?!

Mario got to stay back with me and Jon and go to school today.  I dropped him off at daycare after taking him to get a donut at the new donut store, letting him watch a tv show, and driving him in the car to school (he begs me not to bike him – don’t know why – he won’t explain (heat?)).  I was hoping that all of those treats combined would make for a smooth transition to school.  I was wrong.  Mario cried and wailed and begged me to stay.  He promised he would be good and listen to me if I would just take him home.  Awful, horrible, devastating.  As much as I understand that he will be ok when I leave, it still kills me to hear him and see him acting so sad. 

When I picked him up at 5 pm, he was in the Muscle Room balancing on plastic rods.  He begged to stay in the Muscle Room for a while.  Of course – cries his heart out when I drop off and begs to stay when I pick up.  Nevertheless, I would much rather see that then see him miserable when I pick up.  When we got home, we played with his plastic fighter men, which consists of me holding one and letting Mario bang it with his plastic man.  I finally got Mario to agree to head to the football field with me to toss the ball.  As soon as we strolled up to the field, Mario’s mouth dropped.  He was in heaven watching two guys play soccer, a few guys and girls running on the track, a family playing frisbee. 

We tossed the football for a while but then Mario wanted to run the steps like the guys he saw doing it earlier.  We climbed the steps and watched the track runners.  Mario asked me to run so I took a run around the track, which felt really good since I had eaten a loaf of garlic bread for dinner (that time of month).  When I got back, Mario asked if he could run around all by himself.  It is one-fourth of a mile around the track.  I said “sure” knowing that he would make it around with out a problem.  Sure enough, he took off his shirt and bolted around the first half.  He slowed down a bit to a light jog and then revved it back up for the last half.  As he sprinted around to the end, I rooted him on yelling his name.  He had a huge smile on his face and i could see how proud he was of himself.  He drank some water and asked to run the stairs again.  We did, and we played Spiderman and Sandman.  We had a really good time. 

He amazes me with his athletic ability at age 3.  The boy is so fast and wiry and strong.  When he ran the last leg of the track, all I could do was picture him as a teenager running at a meet with me and Jon in the stands rooting him on like mad crazed parents.  I will be the mom with the ten buttons of him all over my shirt (and of Maria, too, who will be our world-class swimmer) bragging about how cool my kids are with other parents (who will be talking over me about how cool their kids are  so that neither of us hear each other in the end).

The Big Apple

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NYC babes

I visited my sis in the Big Apple last weekend and came home on Sunday night with a Big Smile.  Lord, she is a machine.  Meg and I kept up with her, but barely, and not without some whining every once in a while.  But even when we were so tired we could keel over, we knew if we kept going, it would be worth it (e.g., picnic lunch in Central Park).  

On my way home to Columbus, I saw a picture of Disney’s Tinkerbell on a kid’s suitcase.  It hit me – that is my Sarah!  She is a tiny, floating, magical fairy that sweeps you from place to place.  But she kicks Tinkerbell out of fairyland because she not only sweeps you around but she also keeps you entertained with good Gospel music, outrageously delicious food, and awesome picturesque views from century old parks.  

 

Ready to chow on picnic food but waiting for the subway

On Friday night, Sarah surprised me with an evening of Gospel music with Shirley Caeser.  We sat in Prospect Park in Brooklyn and praised the Lord for two hours while watching hundreds of others dancing and bellowing out the Lord’s praises.  The crowd exhibited all walks of life, old and young, African-American, white and Chinese, poor and rich.  I love the energy that comes from so many different walks of life who gather together and just let loose (and it is hard not to let loose a “Praise Jesus” or an “Amen!” with Shirley singing.  

On Saturday morning, Sarah pushed me to go on a 12 mile run through Central Park.  The thought of running through Central Park intrigued me since I have never seen all of it.  Besides, I could keep up with that little fairy sis of mine.  Right?  Yeah….  I actually did make it but there were a few times I thought I would pass out or experience a massive coronary as we ran up a hill.  To Sarah’s credit, she tried to make me stop and walk back to the hotel numerous times but I have that Menkedick determination and it got the best of me (she also used her old trick of continuously asking me questions to try to get my mind off the pain.  She used to do this when I gave her massages, too, with the hopes I would get so engrossed in the conversation that I would massage her for hours)!  When we got back to the hotel, I felt so spent but so cleansed at the same time.      

Admiring David in Little Italy

After cold showers, we rocked out some Dim Sum at a little chinese place in Chinatown and then headed to Little Italy for a stroll along the pedestrian street.  Meg showed us around Washington Park where she had planted herself on Friday while waiting for Sarah to get off work.  We watched the pups stroll along with their owners – 90% of the pups not weighing more than 12 pounds and sporting serious attitude.  We chowed down on some Italian food in the evening – ravioli with goat cheese and two homemade pizzas. We drank a bottle of white wine with it. Yum. 

On Sunday, we  bought foods for a picnic brunch at Eatlery (delectable italian grocery store and restaurant) and then proceeded to Central Park (subway to Eatlery, subway to the Park and a walk through the park to find the perfect spot – we were ready to chow)!  We sat in a shady area and ate cheese and bread, blackberries, peaches, a prosciutto panini, and amazing NY cupcakes all the while watching the runners go by and reading the NY Times.  Ahh, waht a way to spend a sunny Sunday afternoon.   We topped off the day with a 15 block walk to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  Sar and Meg looked inside while I walked around the Upper East side trying to find a Hulk figurine for Mario and something cute for Ri.  However, all I found were shoe shops, luggage shops and high-priced clothing shops.  Ugh! 

Picnic food

By the time we all met up, we had to hike back to a subway station to take the subway to Times Square.  After getting off the subway 8 blocks from Times Square, we sauntered back to the hotel to get our things and send me off to my flight home to Columbus.  We were exhausted but were satisfied that we had experienced New York City in the matter of two days!

When I got home to the kids, they immediately informed me of their weekend with dad at Uncle Mario’s farm. 

Sarah

“We went four-wheeling. I painted my toes and fingers with Bianca. We ate spaghetti and meatballs. We went to the candy store.”  I started to tell them about NYC but they were busy finding books for me to read to them.  I have to start gathering books about NYC, Aix-en-Provence, Oaxaca and the other cities that Sarah for her travel.  Somehow I can see that little Maria following in her fairy footsteps.