Tag: Appreciation

Character in my Characters

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“Mom, I am Catwoman and Mario is Batman and you are WOnder Woman.  The Joker is following us and we need to escape.”

“Drive the jet faster, mom! We need to get away!” 

And that’s how our morning started.  I drove the Volvo jet down King Avenue in order to escape the Joker.  Catwoman kept an eye out and fixed my lasso while Batman made all sorts of plans for our get-away.  We didn’t watch any tv in the car.  Beautiful.  We arrived at the nursery having escaped all bad guys. 

I promised the kids that they could each get a small plant to put in their rooms.  I figured that such a gift was a lot healthier than a plastic toy.  I had read numerous articles about the attributes of house plants recently and hoped that it would get Maria and Mario jump started on green thumbs (I need all the help I can get with my back yard).  Mario spent the first fifteen minutes in the nursery frightening the fish in the pond by trying to reach in and grab their tails.  I ignored him for a bit but when the nursery employee kept giving me the evil eye, I told him to stop.  Maria played with the nursery kitty – a big ol’ plump tabby cat who let Maria carry her everywhere.  I found some pots to re-plant my grandma’s flowers from her wake, and waited for Maria and Mario to pick out their plants.  Mario chose a plain green one and Maria chose a green one with white polka dots.  They got their pots (Maria, red and Mario, green) and we headed home.  They took their plants out of the plastic container and re-planted them in their pots – so proud of doing it themselves.  Maria built a little “home” for her plant with a balcony and a hot tub and a bed.  Mario placed his on his chest.  They do add some life to their rooms.

By the time we finished that adventure, it was starting to warm up outside.  I enticed them to head to the woods with me by telling them we may find baby bunnies or eggs in a bird’s nest.  Of course, we found no such things but by that time, they enjoyed just running through the woods and climbing rocks.  I needed to be outdoors.  I have felt stifled for the last week and a half with grandma’s sickness and eventual death.  Even though I have gotten outdoors for runs with my sis or walks by myself, I have not been able to enjoy the sunshine and the songs of the birds.  My brain constantly wafted into a separate world – blurry and lacking much emotion.  I just got by for those days.  To actually feel some emotion again and the warm sun on my face was refreshing.  And Maria and Mario only added to the day by making me laugh again and again as we walked through the woods and played in the sand volleyball court and the swings.  

After my grandma’s funeral earlier this week, a few people approached me to comment about what personality Maria and Mario exhibited.  One commented at how they were both so spirited and happy; another commented on how outgoing and engaging they were; another at how confident they acted.  It naturally made me proud as their mama but it also made me happy.  And as we hiked up a hill full of sticks and mud, making jokes and laughing at one another, I remembered those comments, and felt such an intense moment of joy.  These babes of ours are genuinely happy creatures, not scared to take risks and adventures, ready to question ideas they don’t understand, comfortable in their skin, able to laugh at themselves.  They take our lives up a notch. 

Jon met us at the park and we watched them brave a climb up a huge rock.  

We didn’t say a peep. Just stood back and admired the view.        

 

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.

Cancun or Bust

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Last Tuesday spun by like a wooden top.  Jon worked on the house all day with Jason while also trying to take calls for work.  I sat on a dozen conference calls and cranked out emails in an attempt to avoid having my colleague overwhelmed while I was out.  When I got home, we madly packed our clothes realizing that shorts didn’t have buttons (and of course neither of us can sew) and dresses were torn.  Too bad we didn’t look earlier.  Oh well, we realized we’d be in our bathing suits most of the time.  I packed the kids’ clothes and boots for Grandma Meg’s and Peepaw’s house, and tried to gather some games and toys that both the kids and the grandparents would enjoy.   We put the kids to bed at 9 pm, and as I left Maria’s room, I heard her sniffling.  When I went back to give her a hug, a full-out bawling session occurred.  She begged us not to leave for Cancun.  It was awful.  We did not expect that type of reaction from her.  I rubbed her back and laid with her until her eyes shut.  I walked out of her room softly hoping not to wake Mario.  When I peered in Mario’s room to ensure he was asleep, I was taken aback when I saw him sitting straight up in his bed wide-eyed staring out at me. 

“What’s the matter, pumpkin?”

“I don’t want you to leave me.”

Jon walked in the room and both of us let out a collective sigh. This unexpected emotion from the kids took us both by surprise and we stood there holding Mario between us and rubbing his back.  They actually do love us….  We let Mario lay with us and we are sure that we were both out before he fell asleep.   When we woke at 4:30 am, Maria got up, too.  She cried again for us to stay and it was only when Maggie laid with Maria in our bed that she calmed down.  What a way to leave!

We arrived in Cancun at noon to a beaming sun and breaking waves.  Heaven.  This is our third trip to Cancun – Jon’s company sponsors the trip.  We stay in the same hotel each year, and play in the same part of the ocean.  We eat at a lot of the same restaurants, and hang out with the same group of friends. As much as that may seem monotonous, it is actually very soothing.  We have no concerns about how the hotel will be, whether the beach will be nice, how the food will taste.  We know it is always close to perfect.  The first couple of years I felt a little overwhelmed with Jon’s friends and their wives.  A lot of them know each other well from going to Cancun every year or because they live in the same city.  I am a lone goose.  But this year, I let go of any concern about not fitting in and just enjoyed myself.  And it was the best trip we had in the three years.  Jon and I ate incredible food, played like kids in the ocean, snorkeled, drove a speed boat (Jon felt like Crockett in Miami Vice!), sat together on the balcony listening to the waves, and talked uninterrupted!  I loved diving in the ocean for sea shells; Jon would stand on the beach with the water hitting his legs waiting for me to bring shells to him.  It was a precious gesture on his part. We laughed hard at Jon’s friends’ antics.  They are all hilarious in their own right.  Phil is from the UK and has a quirky little accent.  He is so cool that he could afford to wear white beach shoes and still look good.  Dave is from Michigan and he is your down-to-earth, good-natured guy who always has a funny story to tell about his kids or his wife or their adventures.  Joe is a slick, suave Michigan guy who is always considerate and making sure that people are having a good time.  Their wives definitely make them the men that they are – they are the backbones of their families.  Strong, funny, and intelligent, they always welcome me into their group and make me feel at home.  Those are the three guys and their wives that we hang out with the most in Cancun but there are others who provide us with much entertainment, also.  It’s a good group and the camaraderie and brotherhood amongst the male colleagues is enviable – I wish I had as much fun with my work colleagues as these guys have together. 

The resort

I got a killer head and foot massage on our last day at the beach.  It was the “Organic Massage” and consisted of a scalp massage, hot towels, face massage, foot massage and hand massage.  It ended with a back massage and hot towels on your back and legs.  I thought I had died and entered heaven.  She poured citrus oils on my hair and spread them on my skin during the massage.  I smelled like a lemon when I left.  Jon went jet skiing while I got my massage.  He didn’t realize that there were 10 foot waves to conquer out in the ocean.  He was a hurting puppy when he came back to shore. 

We flew home on Sunday and rested for an hour before we headed out East to pick up the kids from Meg and dad.  They had a great time on the farm, as always.  They rode the horses and played outside.  Maria reported to us that Peepaw cut down two trees and “almost killed himself!”  She loved telling the story.  Mario reported that he almost fell off their horse, Taz but Peepaw caught him.  Maria is learning how to ride Taz better and even steered him herself.  She wants to take horseback riding lessons so badly, which I have been struggling with since I know nothing about horses.  Jon loves the idea because he loves horses. 

M&M with their Mexican flutes

I always dreamt that my daughter would play soccer and softball and all of the other sports I loved to play as a girl.  I have slowly gotten over my preoccupation with what I think Maria should be and realize I need to let her be who she wants to be.  So, horse riding lessons are in her future (of course she picks the most expensive hobby!).  When they rode up to meet us, Maria and Mario had huge smiles on their faces.  They jumped out of the car and gave us gigantic hugs for minutes long.  It was an awesome few minutes.  The ride home was just as awesome with them describing their week to us and listening to us about our adventures in Cancun.  The evening continued to be great with wrestling and airplane and reading books.  We fell asleep with smiles on our faces. 

Then Monday morning arrived.  Back to the grind.  Running around the house trying to get dressed and packed and papers filled out for school.  But I took a deep breath as I loaded Maria’s lunchbox in her book bag.  I stepped back from the table and stared at M&M and Jon in the hallway putting on their coats.  Can I love them anymore?  One thing that getting away does for me is reinforce how lucky I am to have such a warm husband and adoring kids.  Even if we are at each other’s throats at 8 am on Monday morning.

I Am Because We Are

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I took my time getting out of bed this morning.  Jon lovingly rolled out of bed at 7:10 am to take the kids downstairs.  They have reverted back to their old wake-up time – 6:30 am.  Brutal on a Saturday morning.  Especially when nursing a head cold.

Maria headed back upstairs after heading down with the boys.  She cuddled her body against mine and rubbed my hair trying to get the tangles out (an act she loves because I inevitably say “Ouch!” and she retorts “That’s how I feel when you brush my hair!”).  She begged me not to go on my Saturday morning run complaining that I never spend Saturday mornings with her.  I explained to her that I spend all of Saturday day and night with her outside of my run, but that didn’t matter one bit in her mind.  When she knew she would not get me to skip my run, she begged me to at least get up and carry her piggyback downstairs.  I asked her to give me 15 minutes.  She counted down 15 minutes on the clock and when that 15 minutes expired, she sang “Cock-a-doodle-do!”  She is a nutball.

As I got dressed and looked outside at the bleak morning, I resolved I would do a short run – 5 miles – and call it a day.  My head hurt from my cold, my nose was runny and stuffy and my eyes felt droopy.  Jon always asks why I would choose to go outside and exercise when I felt like that but to me, it helps.  Opens up those sinuses, right?!  On my first leg of the run, I felt heavy in the legs and I thought I may take the mileage down to 3.  But something happened as I jogged down my second hill and saw a group of runners – male and female – running up the hill.  They looked my way, smiled, waved, and yelled “Good day, heh?”  I returned the morning hello and felt energized.  After another mile, I jogged by a woman walking her dog who I see often on my morning runs.  Her dog yapped and she shrugged her shoulders at me saying “I wish he’d know you by now and not bother you with that barking. Do a mile for me!”  I waved and continued. 

M&M posing at the tile shop they went to with Jon and me later in the day.

I made it to my turn-off. I could choose to take a left and head up the hill to the gym or head straight towards downtown.  Seeing others energized me and I continued toward downtown.  When I passed a bus stop, the two older men sitting on the bench commented  “Lookin’ good hunny.  Keep that body moving.  Uh-huh.”  I nodded at them appreciating their subtle encouragement. I continued through downtown into Short North and up King Avenue.  I ran over the bridge and caught a glimpse of Mario’s favorite bird (heron) standing tall on a rock in the water.  I thought of Maria and Mario and my full day ahead with them.  I smiled.  I thought of Jon and a full week with him this week due to his lack of travel.  I smiled.  I looked at the road ahead and the run I was soon set to accomplish.  I smiled. 

An old African Proverb suddenly entered my head: “I am because we are.”  My sis had sent me this proverb in a card a while back.  I thought back to the warm people I had seen on my run, my family, my friends, the pre-historic heron, and how fitting the proverb was for my Saturday morning run.  I repeated it over and over as I ran home to spend the day with Jon and M&M.

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.

Recognizing the working mom AND the stay-at-home mom

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I read an article in Time magazine this morning (Working Moms = Healthier and Happier) as I sat on one of the most boring conference calls of my career.  I had my venti miso and a slice of banana nut bread, however, which I enjoyed thoroughly in my quiet office free of screaming kids.

My initial reaction to the article was one of relief.  After all of these years of battling the guilty mother syndrome, studies vindicated that my decision to work was a smart one.  I would be healthier and happier than my friends who decided to stay at home with their children.  I wanted to call all of my mommy friends and announce the news; throw a party at the office for my mama colleagues.  But after 10 minutes of jubilation, I thought back to an article years ago that reported that studies showed working moms produced less attentive, more needy kids.  I thought about my reaction to that article – how I could not fall asleep that night because I questioned whether I was doing the right thing for M&M.  I doubted my love for M&M if I would choose to work everyday and not be home with them.  I scoured the internet to find articles that affirmed my decision to be a working mom.  And then I took a deep breath.  Turned off the computer. And took M&M out for a bike ride. 

M&M enjoying their bikes

I tune out these articles anymore because in the end, don’t they all say the same thing? The more love and support and encouragement that you provide to your children, the better off they will be in this world.  If I stayed at home all week with M&M, I do not think I would feel as fulfilled and as balanced as I do as a working mom.  I can’t say that for sure, and maybe in another life I will find that being a stay-at-home mom is the most incredible experience ever, but in my current life, this is how I feel.  I have worked hard to get to where I am professionally, and I enjoy the work that I do and the people I meet.  I want to be able to retain my connections and continue to work because I know that I will want that when M&M are older and in their own lives.  When they go off on their own in high school and college, I want to have my career and colleagues intact.  And I don’t feel like because I have my career now that I am forever scarring them. 

Happy Ri

did have my doubts when they were younger, and I still think that in a perfect world moms should be able to stay home for the first year of a newborn’s life (maybe the US will adopt Germany’s approach), but that was not a possibility for me at the time.  I had Maria when I was in the prime time of my career – six years out of law school and gaining expertise in the employment law area.  Again, who knows?  Staying at home at that time may have been better in some ways for Ri or even for me, but decisions have to be made with the facts at hand in the moment, and at that moment, I thought that I should stay in my profession and be a mom, too. 

I don’t like that the articles about stay-at-home moms versus working moms seem to pit one group against the other.  I don’t want to be one of those corporate moms that looks at a stay-at-home mom eating lunch with her kids and chides “Must be nice to stay home all day…huh?”   And I also don’t want to be the stay-at-home mom who shoots a condescending look to the working mom who just divulged that her kids go to day care because she works during the week.  I want to be the mom who sits around with other moms and appreciates that we are all different in our wishes and desires and hopes and dreams – for ourselves and our children.  What is right for me will not be right for everyone and that is OK.  M&M are pretty happy kids (albeit ornery at times, but happy!) and I don’t think that came out of the blue.  Jon and I worked our butts off loving them and holding them (all night long on many a night) and recognizing them and believing in them.  Let’s get some studies that recognize moms for those simple yet indispensable tasks.

Happy Mario

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

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Christmas 2011

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

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

M&M iwth Robert, Kristen, and Cy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

M&M and their cousins

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

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

The babes enjoying the season

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

A song for Cy

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

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

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

I miss him.

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

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

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

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

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.

Moments

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Moments from this past weekend:

Mario running and jumping into the pool, arms crossed in a rapper style pose, rising up with those green goggles sucked onto his face and smile as wide as the ocean;

Maria climbing up the ladder to the high dive, walking confidently to the edge, looking down at me and the water, smiling and jumping in with feet planted firmly down to hit the water first (avoiding that belly flop she initially landed)

Maria on the playground swing, hair shooting everywhere and face filled with exhilaration as the chains untwist while she flies high in the sky

Mario scaling the outside of the plastic slide like a mountain climber

Maria showing her cousin around our potential new house like it was ours already, pointing out all of her favorite spots including her attic bedroom.

Mario and Maria dancing around in the fountains at the Scioto Mile

Mario raising his hand to the tour guide at the Santa Maria after she explained how they trapped rats in a wood box, emptied them in the ocean, and then used the wood box again to trap more rats.  The tour guide called on him and Mario explained “I have a book at home that Mommy reads called Michael Recycle.  We recycle, too.”

The pride in seeing my teachings come alive in Mario as he yells at a driver that beeped at us “We are not killing animals and polluting – we are walking not driving!” 

Maria performing her rap with arms cocked up and head moving side-to-side rapper-style “This isn’t the doghouse, this is the kitty litter house” and Jon and I cracking up at personality on that girl.  We see Baby Maria Slick coming to record stores soon.

Watching Maria race up the street on her bicycle begging to go all the way to Giant Eagle without me and Mario (“I am almost 7 now mom; I don’t need you anymore = I can do it by myself.”)

Mario taking down his shorts and undies on the side of the porch and peeing in the bushes (“Mom, boys are allowed to go pee outside in the woods.”)

Maria crawling into bed with me at 5 am and cuddling up against me with her cold feet and wrapped around my legs and her sweet breath against my neck

Feeling Mario rub my arm as we lay together at bedtime and waking up to see his little mouth barely open in such a deep glorious sleep.