SnoBiz

On a perfect Friday evening, a small group gathered at SnoBiz - the little ice deli near our house.

A father and his daughter.

A mom with her toddler and preschool aged son.

Another mom with her son.

The three older children became fast friends, discovered they were all 4, and sat in a little row, dripping syrup and shaved ice all over themselves.

Their chatter was highly entertaining: that they all were four, that there were four kids and three grow-ups, who had what flavor; that they were all four, that a McDonald's Happy Meal box was indeed NOT a hat but part of the first boy's head; princesses, where they lived, full names, that they were all four.

They shuffled their feet in the rocks and ate their shaved ice, chatting away.

Then the dad got a call from their mom.

One mom issued a 1 minute warning.

Dad got off the phone.

Both parents announced it was time to go.

Then the other mom chimed in with a time to go.

The little girl protested and began to throw a little fit.

The first boy sat in his place obstinately.

Dad pleaded.

Mom threatened.

The second little boy threw his cup and spoon into the garbage can and walked to the car. He and his mom were the first to pull out.

"I am so proud of you, Bugs," I said. "Thank you for having such good listening."

Special People

I posted about weirdness surrounding some FB reconnections, but tonight it seems I felt the glow again of finding old friends.

My high school girlfriends have greatly stepped up reconnections because of FB, and some of us are getting together for lunch on Sunday.

And now one of our Executive Protection Troupers with whom I worked while with the Lt. Governor tracked me down. We chatted for the first time in about 9 years tonight on my way us to a conference in Oak Brook.

He and the other guys were like my big brothers. We had beers after events, late breakfasts after early morning events. Traveled around the state and even the country. I followed them up and down I55 at obscene speeds, with them flashing their lights at marked cars and radio's "and I've got the one behind me" as we zoomed by. Helping me when lost in the wrong neighborhoods in Chicago, and calling Indiana troupers, requesting that I not be left alone, when broken down on a cold winter day. Beers and dogs and Wrigley; pics of kids and the most obnoxious Christmas display I have ever seen.

My big brother troupers even coached me through negotiations when buying my house, and even moved me. Ran background checks on potential dates (usually without me knowing) and paying a visit to a man paying me a bit of unwanted attention. No matter what, no matter when, I knew the guys had my back.

Talking to Kevin tonight got me reflecting on those people who make your life better by being around them.

And he was not the only one I talked with today. Client friends, friends who are clients, the engineers who are part of this conference this week. More big brothers you can count on for anything.

Two who I KNEW would be there and step in when we found out a speaker for Saturday would not make it after all. Who I KNEW would call, no matter how late, after a long day themselves.

Another who friended me on FB, texted me about where to buy shoes for his son while passing through town on the way to a wedding, who "sold" us all of the things for Jackson's room at daddy's house for a mere $100 that were meant to be for his granddaughter's room at their house, who always pics from Wrigley.

These guys, my "big brothers" across the state, Kevin, Dan, Mike and Curtis, were there for me on a very very trying day today. They have left me feel warm and fuzzy instead of a crabby mommy tonight. They make my life better by simply being a part of it.

They are an inspiration to me. I hope I can emulate them.

Good night my friends. My God bless you all.

Victory, if only short lived

Work and life have been interfering with my blogging. Anxiety keeps creeping up, and Scott and I have barely seen each other this month.

HOWEVER, after attending a wedding together yesterday and enjoying a very nice evening, I am declaring today a victory.

• I accomplished a project for work.
• Got all of the laundry washed, folded and put away.
• Cut the grass and picked up the patio.
• Dishwasher was emptied, and there are no dirty dishes in the house outside of the dishwasher.
• Jackson has been bathed, ears cleaned and all nails trimmed.
• I de-cluttered two of my dumping grounds - the kitchen window sills and the top of the wine rack.
• The living room is picked up and nothing extraneous is sitting on the dining room table.
• Jax and I even read out bedtime books out on the porch swing tonight.

The bills aren't paid, and I never showered today, but who is counting?

I know I can start this next hell week at least feeling on top of the home life, and sometimes that makes all of the difference in the world.

If Caught on Hidden Camera

If only we had a hidden camera set up between the living and dining rooms, you could have witnessed:

1. Jackson playing one on one soccer with his Spidy ball against himself. He was both The Soccer Stars and the Purple Team.
2. The truly amazing way he can move and control his body. He definitely does not have MY kinesthetic sense.
3. According this his play by play of the match, one of his soccer moves was "truly geeeenius!"
4. The fact that uh, um and like have entered his vocabulary this week as language additives.
5. The preschool logic when I suggested that if he did not want to hurt his feet anymore, he could put his shoes on, pick up the toys, or deal with the consequences. His retort, "Who is in charge of my real soccer?" "Coach Bright." His response, "Well then he makes the rules." "Well, if he has a rule about indoor soccer in the living room with no shoes, then go for it. Otherwise, it is still your decision." He picked up the other toys.
6. That in Jackson's world, every other quarter of a soccer match can actually be a sword "battle war."
7. And the fact that my little man is truly a little, funny amazing little man!

Year 4 & Coming Home

The past few weeks have been whirl wind. Our Chicago trip, my friend’s Ordination as Deacon, a promotion at work, follow up appointment back in Chicago, my parents in town and Jackson’s birthday. I wish I could have written a beautiful post about Jackson’s birthday, but did not have it in me. But here is a chronology of his photos and then today's reflections..

1 hour

1st Birthday Dinner - Ned Kelly's


2nd Birthday Breakfast - Melo Cream aka "The Donut Store"

3rd Birthday - Grandma & Grandpa B's (with Zachary)

4th Birthday - Los Agaves (Note: Same shirt as 3rd Birthday - still loves Spidy!)

Jackson and I came home from the hospital four years ago on Thursday, but the Saturday of the 4th of July weekend, and the final weekend of Wimbledon seem more like the anniversary of our coming home to me because the activities tend to follow the day, and not so much the date.

This morning Jackson crawled in bed with me to watch the woman’s final at Wimbledon. The beautiful post by Lisa and the current state of my reproductive health got me remembering our last night 24 hours at the hospital clear as day.

It started off rough.

John had gone back to work that day after being told by his HR folks that he did not get his 2 paid week’s paternity leave because we were not married. I knew this was wrong and illegal, BUT since he was still in his first 6 months in this job, he did not want to fight it.

Despite no problem latching on, Jackson was struggling to nurse. Every nurse on the floor, through multiple shifts, I swore had been in to monitor because surely I was doing something wrong. They all concluded we were doing everything right, he just wasn’t getting enough to eat and became pissed off.

There is no better way to describe it. He would latch on, nurse for about a minute, and then open his mouth widely, shake his head violently side to side and scream at the top of his lungs with a bright red face – so uncharacteristic of the smiley boy I now know.

Friends had been streaming in all afternoon and then were driven away by his screams. One friend started calling him Jack-Jack, which made me not so happy. This proceeded all afternoon and into the evening.

Then the night nurse came in to tell me Jax needed to supplement, he had lost over 10% of his body weight, and if he did not gain some back by mid morning, he would not be coming home with me. I understood, fed him his bottle and cried - feeling so inadequate at not being able to nourish my child.

But the nurse was wonderful. She hung in my room for at least a couple of hours. And when I say she hung, she did, like a girl friend. It was at least 11 PM, and the unit was full – I know because they had tried to kick me out of my room the night prior. We talked, fed Jax. She held him for awhile. We dressed him for his first pics together. She calmed me down and helped me feel like a good mom, but also like me again. I tell people that I wish I had gotten her number, because she is the kind of woman I would have liked to go get a beer with on a nice summer evening.

Jackson became Jackson after that. He was just hungry. We settled in for the night, and in the morning hung out, enjoying “Breakfast at Wimbledon”. The match between a Williams sister and Maria Sharipova was a classic 3 setter. Jackson thrived, mellowed, and gained enough to go home. But daddy called after the second set – they split. Did I want him to come now? Take your time. Watch the next set from home. We are cool. Chilling out with Breakfast at Wimbledon, just my little guy and me.

Our first Breakfast at Wimbledon

This morning, Jackson crawled into my bed with his bowl of cereal and cup of juice. I was laying there in pain from my endometriosis and being unable to keep food down for the past few days. The perfect storm of the Chicago docs trying to pharmacologically shut down my troubled reproductive system. Chemical hormones fighting my body’s screwed up natural ones. But we were cool. My little man and me.

The Williams sisters played a good, high quality match. And after the second set, the phone rang. It was daddy. They did not split, and he was on his way.

Daddy, Jackson, and Mommy - Coming Home for the First Time