In the Company of Wise and Wonderful Women

As I drove up the highway today, Lake Michigan on my right, and the city straight in front of me, I smiled to myself and thought, " How nice to receive an invitation to a party!" I think there is still this wonder of being included that has hung over from my high school days, when I would feel so special to be invited out with the "cool girls" from time to time. Anyway, I left the party today so grateful for this fortuitous chance to meet and mingle with such talented and thoughtful women. All of them are moms. All of them write about their experiences borne out of motherhood. And yet, they are so much more than that. Just listening to the readings today, ones that made my heart ache and my mouth laugh simultaneously, I really felt that I was in the company of women with such depth and creativity. From a comparison of the first day of high school to a Seraut painting, to the description of a moon that sipped on the sun and overflowed into startlight, to the minivan as staging area for an induction into crone-hood, I am inspired by these writers to dig deeper into myself, to nurture my creative spirit as I nurture my own children.

I love parties, but I always feel a little "buzzy" when I leave, (and that has nothing to do with the mimosas!) It seems to me a little like speed dating (although I think I was married long before that became popular.) There are all these people that I want to meet, want to talk to, hear their stories, and connect with, all within a 2-3 hour span. It's amazing how you can really come to care about another person, just from reading their prose over a year, whether you have met them once, twice, or not at all. We need to have a mommy blogger camp. One week of writing and conversation, out in the wilderness somewhere. (And definitely invite Virginia along. What a fantastic massage!)

In addition to the conversation blitzes, there is also food. Yummy food. And I am not one who is afraid to eat at a party. (I once worked for a very elegant woman who refused to eat at our donor parties. She was afraid of getting spinach stuck in her teeth, I guess.) I wanted to try everything - the cheese, crackers and nuts from Pastoral, the jam from the Jane Addams Hull House, and of course, the cheesecake from Eli's. The problem is, I really couldn't focus on my food as much as my foodie husband would have liked. I heard him whispering in my conscience, "Think about the food while you are tasting it. What flavors are present?" I just know the cheese was delicious, and that I need to make an exclusive trip to Pastoral and the Hull House to try more of what they offer. That is on my summer list of to-do's. Now, back to the party-goers.

The craziest part of the day? Walking in and meeting a woman I went to high-school with, 17 some years ago. I have horrible face-memory. (Recently, Mike and I went to a movie with Gwyneth Paltrow and some other guy. I leaned over to Mike and whispered, too loudly, "Who is that guy??" I got a glare and a quiet answer, "That's Joaquin Phoenix, Liz.") Of course! It felt the same as I was introduced to Melanie, and I smiled, no idea that she already knew who I was. But as soon as Melanie started talking, the years dropped away and I recognized the girl I had spent 3 years of high school with. Now, I can't wait to get to know her as an adult. Crazy, small world!

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Driving home, I realized how strange it felt to be out without my girls. They are such a part of me, and are usually with me, almost like two extra appendages. It was good to get away, to celebrate woman-hood and not just mommy-hood. But it also felt wonderful walking in the door to a chorus of "Mama! Did you miss us?"

Nourit's First Haircut

I finally decided to end the battle for barrettes and have Nourit's hair cut. Just a little bit. In the front.

Before, sitting in the barber's chair (aka, Amber's kitchen stool.)

After, with the same expression. That didn't go away with the chopped locks.

I Love Hyde Park (and Paris) in the Springtime

There is an abundance of things to do in Hyde Park once Spring arrives. This weekend seemed like the unofficial beginning of Spring here. Not only did the sun come out after the deluge we received on Friday, but all the green events seemed to take place as well. We attended the Hyde Park Plant Sale for the first time in 6 years of living here, welcomed the opening of the 61st Street Market, chatted with our gardening neighbors at our community garden party, and grabbed a cup of tea at Backstory in the middle of it all.

The thing I love most is running into friends and neighbors at these events. While milling around the market, we ran into our neighbors and one of Nourit's best little friends. We then made an impromptu trip with them to campus to attend a carnival - stuffing ourselves with free hotdogs, ice-cream, pretzels and cotton candy, before letting the children loose in the jumping castle. (Note: this is immediately after reveling in the organic-y, local goodness of Backstory and the farmer's market!) Later, we all hung out with a bunch of neighbors and friends in the backyard and grilled together - a perfect ending to a perfect weekend day.

In spite of the random shootings, I really do love 61st Street!

I'm Sorry, I'm Repeating Myself

I'm realizing that as a mom, I seem to repeat myself an awful lot. Even to the point of hearing myself telling the same old sorry story to the same friends, day in, day out. Lately, it's the Nourit vs. the Nap story (Once upon a time, Nourit didn't take a nap in the afternoon. She was horrible, but went to bed on time. Once upon the next time, Nourit took a long nap in the afternoon, and didn't go to sleep that night until midnight, at which point she promptly turned into a pumpkin and we made her into soup the next day.) Last fall it was the Avi vs. Sleeping More Than Two Hours story. The same goes for our life. We have so many changes on the horizon, and yet, as of today, nothing's changed. So I give the same answers, make the same conjectures, and feel as if I am a broken record.

I just can't stop, though. I hear myself talking and think, "Eek! They've heard this before! You're boring!" But in the interest of conversation, connection, whatever, I continue. So if you are wondering why my blogging has seemed to slow down a bit, it's because there is nothing new to say lately. Just re-read the past few months, and it'll be like having an actual conversation with me these days...

Easter Candy Idolatry

In church, we talk about idols a lot. Money and self are two biggies. But candy? I'm pretty sure there aren't any temples dedicated to the Sugar God that archeologists are digging up. For 3-year old Nourit, though, her Sugar Temple is iced with butter cream, and coated with sprinkles. It boasts candy-coated chocolate eggs, and bright little chewy bunnies. The path leading up to the shrine is lined with chocolate chips and M&M's. Daily offerings of cake and ice-cream make their appearance on the shrine. Her first word of each day is 'candy', and the last words of each day are, "Tomorrow, after breakfast, can I have...."

When did we go wrong? This child, who barely had any sugar or salt before she was 2 is, at 3, a sugar fiend. Is it all the result of poop incentives? Or is it something more insidious, like idolatry?

I know it sounds laughable. A 3 year old, with idols? She is beginning to know right from wrong, though, and perhaps with that cognizance comes the ability to erect idols in place of the authority of God. If you sat in on her prayers, you'd hear copious amounts of gratitude for the candy in her life. She tries to wheel and deal. "If I poop three times, can I have 3 M&M's?" She needs to have it close. "I'm just going to sit next to the candy in my basket for awhile." She tries out a variety of scenarios. "After breakfast, I'll eat the chocolate egg, and then after lunch I'll eat the chewy bunny." Then 3 minutes later, "After breakfast, I'll eat the chewy bunny and Daddy can eat the chocolate egg, then after lunch I'll eat the rest of the chocolate eggs and Daddy can have a chewy bunny." Good thing she doesn't know how to count quite yet. She'd have noticed that about 2/3rds of her Easter candy disappeared mysteriously during naptime yesterday.

Of course, we're the parents. We can determine what she eats and what she doesn't, and normally, we're pretty balanced. Since Christmas, though, there has been a string of birthday parties, dinners out, holidays (Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day and now, Easter), and generous neighbors, all bringing irresistable treats with them. (And since mama has a huge sweet tooth, it's hard to tell the offspring that she can't have a crumb from the piece of cake I'm shoving into my mouth as fast as possible.) I know how good it feels to eat something sweet. I also know how rotten someone can turn when they don't have their "fix." So, time to crack down (no pun intended) and stop this sugar train in it's tracks.

On Dying and Dyeing

With Easter just around the corner, the topics of death and resurrection have peppered our conversations with Nourit more and more. She seems to be at an age to talk about death and killing, both because certain storybooks talk about it (Frog & Toad, for example, has a line that reads, "Help! My best friend in trying to kill me!" as Frog puts Toad into his winter clothing against his will. That happens to be one of Nourit's favorite phrases this week...), and because she picks things up from older kids who might be play-killing. Not to mention the fact that to really explain Easter, you have to talk about death, (which is probably why the Easter Bunny was invented. It's much easier to talk about Easter in terms of a fluffy creature in Spring bringing candy while you are sleeping, than to discuss sin, killing and death with a 3 year old.) The wonderful thing about believing the way we do, though, is that we have the hope that when we die, we will come back to life again - to a much better one, at that.

I'm still not certain what she really grasps, though. For instance, she and her friend were playing with Dodo - taking turns "die-ing" Dodo, to be exact. (I didn't correct her verb usage - I really would prefer the word "killing" to stay out of her regular vocabulary for just a little longer.) And just last week at the Art Institute, we were looking at a Munch painting, 'Gologotha', where the artist portrays himself as Christ on the cross. Obviously, I skipped the symbolism and went straight for the explanation of Christ being put on a cross to die for our sins, and then left that very quickly to remind her of the resurrection at the tomb three days later. I believe that was the first time she saw the image so starkly (even though it wasn't a realistic portrayal.) Her children's Bible just has a blurry picture of 3 crosses off on a distant hill. Even so, I'm basically avoiding talking about the actual intent to kill. When is a child ready to learn about that??

On a lighter Easter note, I've been intent on naturally dyeing eggs this year. Last year, Nourit and I joined our good friend Danielle at her place of employment, the Green Grocer, where they held a natural egg dyeing workshop - just for us! It took a little time for me to get used to the muted colors, but now I'll never go back to Paas again. Nature is just that much more beautiful!

The eggs we decorated last year at the workshop.

So with a week or so before the Bunny arrives, I've started experimenting with my own dyes. Here are the results of my fun science project, conducted over the past coupld of days:

The colors that were the most vibrant were the Turmeric (the bright yellow eggs), and the beet juice (the dark pink eggs.) The blueberry made a beautiful grey over the one brown egg I used, and the carrot made a light, mottled orange. The wine (leftover Sangre de Toro, to be precise) came out a light grey-purple, and the light, light peach are from red onion leave. I was trying to get a lovely green, but they didn't perform for me this year, and so, peach. I used the wine and the beet juice cold, but the rest I boiled with the eggs (and added vinegar to each.) The finishing touches include some beautiful little tree berries we found on our walk today, some rubber bands and/or wax applied before dipping, some ribbon, and of course, the Bull.

Pseudo Spring Break, Chicago Style

We wanted to take a real break for once and leave town, but that just seemed like too much work, so we have been taking a few days this week to do some fun things we normally don't fit in during the schoolyear. Monday, we welcomed Spring by heading up to Gethsemane Garden Center to buy some seeds to start our garden, about 3 months ahead of last year! We bought flowers, snap peas, kale and spinach, to begin with. We headed home, picked up the rake and shovel, and headed to our little plot in the community garden. Mike and I broke up the soil, while Nourit picked up as many worms as possible with her bare hands. Perhaps we have a future biologist on our hands?

I went to the office Tuesday and Wednesday, but we still worked in a trip to Bixler Playlot, a trip to Huckleberry Playlot, a trip to the Museum of Science and Industry, followed by gelato (thanks, Melissa!), and some almost-nude body painting (the girls, not Mike and me.)




We also fit in our first trip together to our local library. I'm a little sheepish that it's taken me so long to borrow children's books from the library that's only 3 blocks away, but it's more complicated than it sounds. First of all, I tried to check out books a year ago from Blackstone, but left the library empty-handed. (Well, not actually empty-handed. I had an infant and a 2 year old, which are very hard to handle at the same time.) See, I didn't have the cash to pay my 60 cent overdue fine so I wasn't allowed to take out all the children's books I had carefully chosen. And Blackstone is a drive away (read, buckling-two- children-into-their-carseats-twice drive away), so it's not my first choice of things to do. Since then, I've been buying all their books, which isn't so sustainable.

We have a library 3 blocks away (Bessie Coleman), but those are the same three blocks that contain some of the worst housing projects in Chicago, have broken glass on the sidewalks, often have people smoking pot, crack, what have you, in little groups as we walk by, and frequently have random shootings. This is the same reason why we don't take the Green Line as often as we might. Two of my neighbors regularly walk that way so I finally decided to. It's not that I'm scared - I just don't want to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That, and Mike doesn't want me to go. I'm not sure whether it's a good idea or not, but it was so nice getting out some new books and a free museum pass, and being home within 10 minutes. It's my neighborhood, but not the side that makes me most comfortable.

Today, we played tourists at Navy Pier, and let the girls run around at the Chicago Children's Museum for a couple hours. Talk about ADD land! Nourit barely stayed on one exhibit/task for longer than 30 seconds. They had fun, though, and I love that there are so many hands-on activities for them there. If only it were under Grant Park...






We had some lunch, and got on the Ferris Wheel, where, to my utter amazement, I quietly freaked out and had to stop myself from imagining the worst for the 7 minutes we were up in the air. I did nurse Avi the entire time, so add that to my list of interesting places to breastfeed.

Coffee at Fox & Obel, a brisk walk down Michigan Avenue, and we got in our car and drove home. Tomorrow, we are off to the Art Museum, and Saturday, a dance workshop with the Hubbard Street dancers. Ah, we're doing our best to take advantage of this great city!