Sundays in My City

There have been several times, over the past year, that I have wanted to participate in Sundays in My City. I love the idea of sneaking in peeks at other cities, other peoples' lives - I mean that is basically what I do here - chronicle our days and weeks, our highs and lows, what makes us laugh and what makes us think. And Sundays are always a little better in our world - they're quieter and unscripted. They usually revolve around our yard, our family, the grill.

This Sunday Gramma Kathy was in town and we wandered down to Findlay Market. We picked out fresh produce, we smelled flowers and fresh herbs. We munched on samples of chocolate, waffles and cheese. We people watched and relaxed and loved having a Sunday in Cincinnati - our city.

Findlay Market - the best produce in town - - - - - Herb & Spice and Everything Nice : One of my biggest weaknesses


Examining the fresh herbs and hanging baskets - - - - - - - - -Taking a snack break and doing some people watching


Patiently waiting while Gramma buys fresh bread and cheese - - - - - - - - -$3 for a 4 pour wine tasting ~ Uh HELL YES!

A little bit nothing in particular

It's rainy and gloomy here today. Addie and I are going full speed ahead on getting the house ready for Gramma Kathy's visit - scrubbing floors, baseboards, and bathrooms. Dusting, vacuuming, washing every reachable surface. The washing machine and dryer are already buzzing and Sesame Street is going to do a little "baby sitting today".

I was browsing through our old photos and this is a picture of this exact day, a year ago.

Looking at this picture makes me think about how much life changes in a year.
Elise is now probably a foot taller and losing her "babiness". She goes to school 3 days a week, can tell me all her about her best friends and has an endlessly impressive vocabulary.
Addie's hair can now go in a pony tail. She's in school one day a week and never stops talking from the time she gets up until the time she's tucked in - she's got ideas and thoughts and opinions.
And Genna? Well her lap is a little more crowded, as it is occupied with Elise's eight week old baby brother Liam.

Amazing the difference a year makes.

Wedding Weekend

I am finally awake enough, and functioning enough, to review the grand wedding weekend. I've got some great pictures, but first, my comedy of errors is well worth sharing:


Friday started off lovely and ended lovely, but in between it was a bit rocky. Addie and I were heading to exercise, which we planned to duck out of early so that she could go to the neighbor's and I could go get my nails done with all the ladies.

• Comedic Error No. 1: On our way to exercise sweet child of mine hurled. Everywhere. All over herself. All over the car seat - chunks of putrid, curdled milk. I pulled over the the side of road, scooped out all she deposited, stripped her down and gave my poor sobbing child a wet nap bath. Once we got home she got a bath, the car seat got a hose down, I got a shower. The nails and neighbors were cancelled and we spent the day watching cartoons and cuddling.

The rehearsal went just fine. Everyone seemed relaxed. Addie was feeling good. Dinner was delish. Oh wait, did I mention that as Rick and Kim were pulling into the church parking lot Rylan also hurled, filling up his car seat. Yep.

• Comedic Error No. 2: After ushering the gentlemen out of the house to go golfing Saturday morning I quickly tidied the house and set out the food for the lunches. I threw Addie in the shower with me, packed our over night bag and ironed our clothes for the wedding. My beautiful, borrowed green dress - wrinkle free. My royal purple wrap - wrinkle free. Addie's dress - wrinkle free. Oooops - I noticed her sash needed pressing, so I did. And when I say I did, what I mean is I put the iron on the ever delicate fabric and burnt holes right through it. After a few moments of panic I simply cut the sash off. Of course as soon as I did that my darling daughter looked at me and said "Mama, you hurt my pretty dress". Yep.

Addie and I got to Brian and Kelly's house without a problem. We received the flowers, went over the inventory and made sure we had everything we needed. We stayed a few minutes longer to see the bridal party and then we took off - both to give them space and to get Addie napped.
Kiddo fell asleep on the way to the hotel and slept for almost two hours. When she woke up I put on my make up, fluffed her curls and grabbed our shoes to go get changed at Kelly's and grab the flowers for the church.

• Comedic Error No. 3: When I went to grab our shoes I discovered that I had packed one strappy high heeled sling back and one high heeled sandal. F*ck. Yes, I am pretty sure that was the word I uttered. I quickly called the husband to see if he could bring me a shoe to the church, he didn't answer, thankfully, as I probably would have ended up with three different shoes. Addie and I sped off to Target where I bought the first pair of black nice looking shoes I could find. They're fine. They scream I am a MOM and they cost me over $30. Ridiculous? Yep.

Addie and I made it to Kelly's house with time to spare. I got dressed. I got her in her tights and shoes (dress to go on in church parking lot). The bride looked stunning. The bridesmaids were beautiful. The mother of the bride was glowing.

• Not-s0-comedic Error No. 4: I get the flowers loaded into the car. I got Addie loaded into the car. I grab the programs from downstairs and I am good to go. But not so much. Somewhere in they last minutes I put the programs down, the programs that a bridesmaid designed, and I leave. We got to the church - flowers got handed out and pinned on. Flower girl and ring bearers looked adorable and were poised to go. I took a breath - and then someone asked: Jessica, where are the programs?. I can almost guarantee you that the word I uttered was the same one I said at the hotel. Panic set in? Yep.

One of the wonderful ushers grabbed directions and the garage door opener and raced off to the get the programs. He probably missed a fair chunk of the ceremony, but guests walked out of the ceremony with the programs in hand.

I think that is when I exhaled.

All the other stuff?

The bride? Gorgeous.

The groom? Beaming.

The ceremony? Tasteful and lovely.

The reception? Open bar, cake, chocolate fountain and dancing.

All that stuff, the truly important stuff, was absolutely perfect.

Now on to the pictures...

Tomorrow Uncle Brian and Aunt Kelly are getting hitched.

I can safely say that we're all thrilled that he conned Kelly into saying yes - but I can think of one little flower girl who is ecstatic.

Congratulations Uncle Brian on making one of your smartest, best decisions....

One moment she holds my hand as though she will never let go and the next she is wandering off: to the dollar aisle, to talk to the closest kitty, to play on the patio by herself.

One moment she was in the baby swing swaying and the next she is racing through the yard as fast she can go.

One moment she'll be snuggled against me telling me to stay and the next she'll say Bye bye Mom. Go now.

One moment she'll stomp her feet and defiantly say I do it by MYSELF and the next she'll look at me with those huge eyes and say Help, PLEAse.

One moment she asks me why she isn't allowed to do something and the next she's telling me

what to do.

One moment she is picking me dandelions, the next she's informing me that purple tulips smell like grapes (and yellow ones like bananas).

One moment she is my baby. I always be your baby, Mama, she says. The next moment I begin to wonder if maybe she isn't becoming my big girl.

All in what seems like a moment.

A forever friend

When we left Chicago I was sad for a gazillion reasons, but one of them was the fact I had a friend there with a son just about Addie's age. A friend who understood my neuroses and still put up with me. A friend who would drive an hour into the city just so we could log a face-to-face adult conversation.

We held each others' kids. We provided kid coverage so one of us could go to the dentist or get our hair cut. Or take a shower in peace. Our friendship was, is, effortless. It lacks drama. It's easy and lasting.

A little over a year after we pulled up stakes, so did her family. They left Chicagoland for New York Cityland (I know! ACK!). We don't get to see each other often. We attempt to keep in touch on the phone, but we never get to just sit and support each other - the exception being our yearly pilgrimage to the North Carolina shore and a fabulous visit this past weekend.

She, Renata, came to play with her son, Evan, and her husband, Toby, in tow. We went to the zoo. We munched on burgers. We took in a Cubs game without kids and with quite a few beers. We played board games, grilled, sat on the patio and let the kids run wild in the yard.

And the whole worry about two-year-olds not getting along or being shy...that is a worry that we don't have. Evan and Addie were peas in a pod. They swung on the swings, kicked balls, and jumped on the bed. The hugged and giggled and were so incredibly sweet to each other that at times I thought my heart might burst.

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When I was little I had friend like Evan -Andrew A.. Our parents were pals, he was just weeks older than me, and was my constant playmate. Pictures of him and his family pepper our photo album. He and I going off to our first day of kindergarten together, off to college, at my college graduation.
He moved away before first grade, but yet he still was a part of my life. We trekked to his house to spend the weekend cross country skiing. They came to our house to visit old friends and go hiking. We wrote each other silly letters and manage even now, in our hectic adult lives, to maintain a thread of friendship. He was at my wedding. This summer I held his baby son.

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And I imagine that Evan could be Addie's Andrew A.. They'll be thrown together because of their parents' friendship and soon pictures will spring up in albums. They'll have collective memories. Stories will be told over and over of their antics at the beach or the time she called him "my prince-y" or how he loved jumping on the air mattress in her blue tutu and yellow headband. Or the fact that if one of them had to go to the bathroom, the other did too.

And perhaps they will be pen pals. And celebrate each others' accomplishments. And maybe someday, long from now, dance at each others' weddings and hold each others' children.

And their friendship will be effortless. And easy. And lasting.

A midweek moment

I'm not sure what secrets they were sharing.

I imagine that they were whispering about princesses and flowers and birds.

I have no doubt that they shared a close to perfect moment together - and I was jealous.

I didn't want to be doing the dishes, folding the laundry, wiping the counters, tiding the family room.

I wanted to be sitting, quietly in a colorful tutu, sharing in their secretes.

I wanted to be plotting, scheming, laughing.

But by witnessing their moment I was reminded that quietness is magical.

Dandelions are quite beautiful.

And a little girl's kitty cat is truly her best friend.

A choice

This afternoon we ran into Target.
I needed to get kitty litter for poor Mich the wonder cat (her box is inappropriately foul).
I needed to get Zyrtec for my mucusy, snarfling husband who is being tortured by our blooming trees.
I treated myself to a new palette of eyeshadow, because sometimes I should make an effort at looking a tad better.
We were in and out in under 15 minutes.

I know! Who ever gets out of Target in under 15 minutes??

In that 15 minutes Addie snatched a set of books about the beach from the dollar section and a 94 cent bottle of glitter nail polish. I told her she could have one - the books or the polish.

She thought about it for a minute and then said I want the books please, Mama.

Oh, how my heart swelled.
Glitter nail polish is awesome...but a love of books? That is is phenomenal.

Let me start by saying this: I am a Cubbie. I have always been a Cubbie. I will always be a Cubbie. When I go to Great American Ballpark this weekend I will be decked out in Cubbie blue. I will have on my hat, my much loved sweatshirt and my Derrek Lee t-shirt. When "Take me out to the Ballgame" is played I will root, root, root for the Cubbies.

Addie is a Cubbie as well. Not because of her name or because of the city of her birth - simply because I say so. She's never worn a stitch of Reds clothing. My family knows that it would be a waste of their money to purchase anything related to the Reds.

But I may be weakening the rules.

It's important to have hometown pride. One of the reasons that I have always loved the Cubs so much is that my hometown once hosted the minor league Cubs. We went to Wahconah Park several times to eat popcorn and cheer on the club (oh my goodness, did I see my boyfriend Greg Maddux there in '86?? Oh how I wish I could remember). And then, in grade school, my father, who lived in the suburbs of Chicago, brought us our first major league ball game - The Cubs at Wrigley. The deal was sealed. I was a Cubbie.

It's with that memory that I realize that Addie will make her own choice. The first game she ever saw? The Cubs vs. The Reds - at Great American Ballpark. Her second game? The Reds for GG's 75th birthday.

And yesterday, we took part in a hometown tradition - The Opening Day Parade. It was loud and entertaining and crowded. It celebrated the opening of the Reds season. The streets were lined and sitting by us were children of all ages, parents, grandparents. There were people on balconies, in folding chairs, in office chairs, in wheelchairs.

And Addie sat and clapped and waved and cheered. Later she told me her favorite parts were the princesses (Miss Ohio) and the kitties (the SPCA float). But as an eyewitness I can attest that she also loved the floats, the horses, the dancers and the marching bands.

And it will be her choice if she decides that she loves the Reds a little bit too.

Easter Dresses

When I was little I would wistfully walk through store aisles as the Easter dresses arrived. I loved touching them, holding them up to me and swaying in a mirror.

The colors. The flowers. The bows. The fanciness. The endless girly frilliness.

And mom, even though it was probably not in the budget, would let me get a fancy, frilly, pastel, girly dress of my choice.

And I loved them. And the pretty tights that went with them. And the shoes. And, oh my lord, how wonderful it was if my dress came with a hat. Hats are fancy.

For all the tree climbing, ball kicking, and foul language that I partook in, underneath it all, I was a girly girl. And I loved frilly dresses skimming over my scabbed knees.

What always bummed me about my Easter dress was that nobody got to see it. Because growing up there was a greater chance of snow on the ground than sun in the sky on Easter Sunday. The flowers, the frilliness, the fancy, pastel dress would always be covered by a winter coat. The shoes would be replaced with boots.

All that wonderful girliness had to hidden away - and it was alway far too cold for a fancy hat.

But here? Here in the world of southern Ohio? Here Easter appears to involve sunshine.

And green grass, spring flowers, blowing bubbles and frilly Easter dresses, in full, glorious bloom.

Am I jealous? Um. Yep.

Out of the mouth of my Babe

Yesterday while playing on top of the swing set: "Mama, this is my castle! Oh. Hmmm. Where is my prince? I no see my prince, Mom."


An Easter package arrived for Addie two days ago from Gramma Kathy. When she opened it her eyes got real wide and said: "Aaaahh. Isn't that nice? Isn't that SO nice, Mama?".



Earlier this week while peeing she stood up and turned around to face the potty and said: "Mommy, I do it like this. I peepee like Saint Nicholas* and Daddy."







*Saint Nicholas is her little buddy in the neighborhood. His name is Nicholas, but she insists on calling him Saint Nicholas.





Just about everyday, six times a day: "I do it by MYSELF Mom. By MYself." Most of the time, few minutes later, "Mammmmaaaa, HEELLLP."




Playing in the back yard with our friend Max, in her "castle": "Max, I a princess. You my prince. Mommy! Look! My prince!"

Hello April

You have no idea how happy we are that you have arrived.

The Eastern Redbud is showing it's buds,

the blooms on the trees are begining to open,

the leaves that help shade the patio are unfurling,

And feet are being buried in the sandbox.

Oh, April, how you are adored.