That is SO crazy!

Right this minute

2012-01-25T20:13:00.001-08:00

I smell: dinner. I am reheating pork to make into quesadillas.

I smell: Grandma Weigandts house. Every night I build about 10 minutes of sit time into my dinner prep. I sit in her yellow chair and enjoy the gift of those 10 minutes while something tasty cooks. This photo is from weeks ago,yet, remarkably the same type of glass of wine sits on that table now.

I taste: wine. Chardonnay is central to my sit time. I sip wine,and read blogs.

I hear: British accents. The girls are playing a loud game of pretend adventure that involves jail, chasing, and some darn good British accents. I don't have a photo of this game, so I put in one of the pet shelter game from last weekend.

I see: a camera battery charging. My new camera body arrived and I cannot wait to test it tomorrow at the Chinese day parade, video and all.

I feel: relaxed and ready for a quiet night at home. The girls put their pjs on after school. They must also be ready to relax. 6 more hours until daddy gets home. I have to go, Clara just asked when it was time for bed....

Life, January 2012: How it works

2012-01-23T10:01:00.000-08:00

I read dozens of blogs somewhat regularly. Many are craft or scrapbooking related, some are parenting, and some are food and cooking blogs. Almost all of them describe at one point or another how their lives work and what makes things run more smoothly. Since I keep this blog for my own memory purposes, I thought I'd write a post about how life is working right about now, January 2012.

Basement Reorganization:

As I'm sure happens in most houses after the holidays, I seem to do a big closet and clutter purge every January. This year, I also decided that the family archive materials needed to be moved away from the outside wall and stored on an interior wall, to aid in the preservation. This meant a total reorganization of our storage area in the basement, which coincided with buying a new refrigerator for the basement. Now, I will not have to unplug it to defrost the freezer. And, I have a place to store my canning supplies and ice cream maker. Happy dance.

All of the scrapbook papers are now located in the middle shelving section, along with the girls' craft supplies. I did not have enough room there to put all the scrapbook supplies so there is a small unit in the corner with the Thickers and punches. It would be great to get it all consolidated, but I just don't have the right configuration of space. This current usage is close to ideal, though.

The family archive is all in the same place, now, which is nice. I moved everything out of plastic bins and into archival boxes. I jerry-rigged my filing cabinet so that I have some archival legal files now and can drop photos or documents into a file as I come across it.

I have several big boxes that still need to be sorted, organized, filed and possibly need some more protective measures taken but this is leaps and bounds better than it was a month ago. Not really pictured below are the 12 boxes of letters, which reside on the top shelf of the wall

Another thing I spent about 12 hours on in the last two weeks was fixing the archive scanner. I think I have it working properly now. I never knew I'd be my own I.T. person. I found it highly frustrating and isolating. But, I figured it out and now can get back to work scanning letters again.

One last thing that we got into a better system is the TV in the basement. Last week the girls and I made the trek to IKEA on Monday to buy a tv stand and Rick assembled it Monday night. Now, I can watch the giant tv in the basement without worrying that it's going to break the table it is sitting on.

Chores:

I do laundry on Mondays and Thursdays only. So, if someone has a dirty piece of clothing on a different day, they have to wait until laundry day for it to get clean. Psychologically, this has changed my life. I no longer feel like I should always be doing a load of laundry. It has dramatically cut back on the baskets of laundry that sit around waiting to be put away. Everything gets washed twice a week, except sheets. I try to do change those on Wednesdays the weeks the cleaning person is not here, so they can be washed on Thursday, but it doesn't always happen. In fact, it rarely happens, so they really get done twice a month. However, because of the days assigned for laundry it would make sense for me to get on the stick and wash them the week the cleaning person isn't here.

The laundry gets folded on Monday night and Thursday night and put away Tuesday morning and Friday morning. Nora will often put away hers and Clara's. Rick sometimes does as well, however, I find I prefer to do it myself because then I always know where a clothing item is in the pipeline of laundry.

Twice a day, I spend 30 minutes walking around the house and putting all the bullshit away. The polly pockets, loose socks, pencils, headbands, empty water glasses, headbands, brushes, drawings, markers, barbie shoes...you get the point. I typically do it around lunchtime and in the evening after they go to bed. There are two catchall baskets behind the couch where most of it goes. This dramatically reduces my overall stress level by minimizing the visual clutter. The girls put away things as they go, but inevitably things get missed. My rule is if I pick it up three times a day, I put it in the garbage or in a goodwill bag. If it's on the floor three times in one day, it doesn't really matter that much to you.

Meals:

Every weekend I organize the coming week's meals, extra curricular activities like play dates and my workout schedule and meetings. Once I know what is going on, for example if Rick will be gone or I will be at a meeting, or if we won't get home from an activity until 6pm, then I determine what we will eat that day for dinner. I use an app on my iPad to sketch out the week's activities, it looks like this.

I use the same app to write out my grocery lists. Typically, I shop at Dominick's and Trader Joes. There are a few things I go to other stores like Costco or Mariano's for, but normally only once a month. I belong to the loyalty program at Dominick's and spend about 10 minutes a week loading coupons on my card and special personalized prices. This usually saves me about $25-30 per big shopping trip. It's worth it to me. I have always been a brand loyal person, once I like something I pretty much stick with it. But, it makes it complicated because it always involves two stores.

I do the majority of the shopping on the weekend, so I can focus on working out and working during the school days. Inevitably, I will run out of something and have to go back to the store but it won't be for a big trip.

I watch five or six cooking shows regularly and one of our favorite activities is to make something we see on a cooking show. For example, on Saturday morning we watch Pioneer Woman, and she made chili stuffed yellow bell peppers. So, we are having that for dinner tonight. I also read a lot of blogs and magazines and get recipes from them. I like to try one or two new recipes each week. This coming week, we are eating pretty boring recipes because this past weekend I made three meals for a friend whose parent died. I doubled each recipe and put meals into the freezer for us. So, aside from the chili stuffed peppers, we are eating leftover pork in quesadillas, johnny marzetti and soup from the freezer.

The girls eat anything right now. They especially love "famous" soup (a minestrone like soup I made up), crispy kale chips, beef stew and lasagna.

Exercise:

Right now I am exercising 5-6 days per week. I try to avoid the gym on Monday mornings and go in the afternoon instead. It's too crowded on Mondays. A word on my workouts. They are no joke, and they aren't for fun. They are central to my well being and that of my family, because if Mommy is happy then so is everyone.

I'm working on getting fitter. My regular runs are about about 7 miles at an 8.30 minute pace. My goal for this year is to be running regularly at a 7.30 minute pace. I've increased all the weights that I use to about 5-10 pounds heavier and have incorporated hot yoga into my routine. I'd love to get some swimming going as well, but at this point I don't see where it fits. I'll have to see.

My current schedule looks like this:

Monday: Speed work on treadmill, cross training, and strength

Tuesday: Longer run, 6-8 miles, cross training

Wednesday: Hot yoga

Thursday: longer run, 5-7 miles, cross training

Friday: Speed work on treadmill, cross training, and strength

Saturday: shorter run of 5 miles, cross training - if needed

I've started to incorporate a snack into the middle of my workouts, usually a banana or cheese stick. It's kept me from starving and gives me a boost of energy to finish out the day's work. I make my own gatorade at home now, and drink that during the first half of the workout and drink a big sigg bottle during the second half of the workout. I guess during hot yoga a person is supposed to drink double the water, so I will have to get bigger bottles I guess.

Activities:

Mondays: we try to stay at school to visit with friends a few minutes, but Nora likes to get home and get all of her spelling done for the week and the rest of her homework. They've started to love having "muffin tin snacks" after homework while they enjoy a tv show. That is pretty much daily.

Clara has ballet at 6pm, so the three of us eat around 5:15 and I help her get ready for dance. Rick comes and drives her there and then will eat his dinner. We carpool with another family, so every other week someone drops Clara off or we drive her friend home.

While Clara is gone, Nora and I enjoy some time alone and either read or play a game together.

Tuesday: again, if it's warm, we'll stay at school to visit. Homework, snack, and early dinner because Nora has dance at 6:15. While NOra is gone, I get Clara ready for bed and she has to be asleep before Nora returns at 7:15. Nora enjoys a late night alone, and reads until 8.

Wednesday: free day after school. Often one or both girls will have a play date either here or at a friends house. I try to make a nicer dinner and give myself the gift of cooking something that takes a little longer on Wednesdays. We typically wait and eat with Rick.

Thursday: we hightail it to the gym for swimming. This week we are trying separate lessons, one at 3:15 and one at 3:45. Often, the girls shower at the gym and that gives us extra time at home in the evening. After swimming, we try to stop at Dominicks for a snack and homework. But, this week we will try to have Nora finish her homework while Clara is in the pool. NOra's guitar lesson is at 5:15. Clara and I drop her off and head home for her homework and dinner prep. Rick picks up Nora at 5:45 and brings her back.

Friday: another free day, sometimes we'll run an errand after school or they will watch a movie, or perhaps a play date. It's nice to build in some free days. I like to take a short nap on those days and crack into the chardonnay about 4:30.

Project Life:

I started this method of documentation around Thanksgiving. I love it. This system enables me to put all the bits and pieces of life directly into the album. I'm not sure what this will mean for regular layouts going forward. I'll have to see how things go. I feel like most of our stories are getting told in this weekly format.

When there is a special drawing or a piece of schoolwork, a note from a teacher, or menu from where we ate lunch, I put it in a page protector with that week's photos. I use an app on my iPhone to record memories from each day and the app rolls in my Facebook feed and Instagram feed, so any photos or status updates are stored with that dates notes. It helps me make sure that I'm remembering everything for that week's layout. I normally spend a little time, usually about an hour on Sundays doing that week's layout. It's a nice way to review the week, think about things to work on the following week and catch those little things that would probably be forgotten. Since 98% of the photos I take now are from my phone and 95% of those are in Instagram, I normally print most of the photos at home. I will get enlargements done at Costco for the week.

Upgrading my Mac to the new operating system has allowed me to use Photo Stream. Any photo I take on my iPhone or iPad now automatically shows up in iPhoto, without me synching it with a cord. Changed. My. Life. On the scale of how getting a TiVo changed my life. I take way more photos now, I use them in more ways. It rocks. One of my favorite things to do is take a screen shot of the weather or the headlines in FlipBoard.

Every week I include a screen shot of the weather, and will try to include the headlines from FlipBoard once in a while as well. It's a snippet of what's going on in the world, which is part of what Project Life is about.

Night routines:

As mentioned above, I like to enjoy a glass of chardonnay now and again. Well, pretty much daily. It's good for you. I have a glass while I cook and a glass at dinner. Then, I'm done. After dinner, I drink a ton of water and every night I enjoy a bowl of popcorn larger than my head. Every. Night. My day is incomplete without it. Seriously.

Love Story - 12 in '12

2012-01-17T09:30:00.000-08:00

The year was 1998. It was a cold and blustery winter night, and not having anything else to do, I agreed to take my friend Lori to a bar to meet up with another friend, Arne. Well, long story short, Rick was there and that was the night we met. I knew I liked him immediately, he, however, liked Lori first until I wowed and impressed him with my vast knowledge of Chicago's obscure neighborhood bars. Especially the tidbit that, yes, I had in fact been to the J&R before that night.

Aside from an appreciation for obscure neighborhood bars and both holding unused M.A. degrees in History, we also were interested in the same types of music. That night the group of us discussed going to see the Jayhawks the next month.

I remember being surprised when, later that week the phone rang and it was Rick calling. First of all, I didn't remember giving him my phone number. So, I found it industrious of him to get the number from Arne. He was calling to see if I wanted to go see the Jayhawks at Metro. Of course I did! I was really excited to see them live, but the show was not for a few weeks. So, we made a plan to have dinner that next weekend. The rest is (our) history.

Going to see the Jayhawks that February was the first time that we went out as a couple together with other people, including Arne, and I remember it feeling strange, but wonderful. The Jayhawks are a good live band. But, of course, by February 1998, they were no longer the original incarnation of the Jayhawks, as Mark Olsen left the band in the mid-1990s. Anyway, it was a good show.

Fast forward 14 years. Criminy. 14 years.

As we celebrated New Year's Eve this year at an Old 97s show, we decided that in 2012 we want to see 12 live shows. 12 in '12.

Last weekend I was running errands and thought about the Jayhawks. I googled them and they're coming to the Vic. The real Jayhawks, Mark Olsen, Gary Louris, etc. All five of them and their glorious, kooky harmonies and guitars and drums. February 17, 2012. Almost 14 years to the date of that first Jayhawks show. We will see them live and continue in our quest for 12 in '12. It's going to be a great year to be alive and a great year for live music.

Here's to the continuation of our love story, for the Jayhawks and for each other.

Photo stream

2012-01-12T09:47:00.001-08:00

Striking poses

Boy time

Girl time

Giving coffee to babies

Hotel hang outs and snack parties

Enjoying some crazy warm January weather

Packing and unpacking

Photos at dinner

Wine with lunch.

Build a Bear with cousins.

Coffee breaks with Nora

Bloody Marys at Brunch

Lots and lots and lots of Word W.E.L.D.E.R.

Visiting Grandma Schlater

Build a Bear for parents too

Just a few things we've been up to, as evidenced from Photo Stream.

By the way, in case you're wondering. I love my iPhone. LOVE. IT.

7 is heaven

2012-01-10T07:26:00.001-08:00

Well, not really, but I did it. Today I felt like I might die about mile 3.5, then, the magic. That tingly feeling in my arms, my legs felt light and moved on their own. The last 3.5 miles rocked, especially when the shuffle dished up Bel Air for me and I listened to it for the last 1.5 miles. Nothing gets your legs moving quite like the refrain, "I'll stomp a mud hole in your heart."

I only hope my face loses the reddish hue before finish recovery on the elliptical.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Sweetness and Light

2012-01-05T09:02:00.000-08:00

Life is not all sweetness and light. It is often bitter and heavy. This has been a long and rough holiday season, lived through a veil of sadness and confusion. I still can't wrap my head around why Mandi and her sweet baby died and how on earth her family can live on without them. Life is not all sweetness and light. It is laundry, and dirt. It is days, weeks, months of too much to do for other people and not enough time to do it. It is soul crushing, chest constricting stress. It is clogged toilets and rotting vegetables in the refrigerator. It is mess and clutter. It is too many toys and nowhere to put them. It's making meals and cleaning up meals and running the dishwasher and emptying the dishwasher, and "Oh, look at that it's time to make another meal." It is hiding in the bathroom, trying to read silently for just one minute please, and not even that works out. It is going to bed too late because you had to work and getting up too early to work out and then being too tired to run three miles.

Life is hardly ever sweetness and light.

I started reading a book yesterday called Desire to Inspire, and it features different women who manage to incorporate creativity into their lives and how they do it, what they struggle with, how they balance their lives. The very beginning of the book mentions the attempt to be a Force of Good in the world. To leave a positive trace behind. To uplift others. I love that idea. I love the idea of using my life, my every day life of work and chores and errands and duties to uplift. I spend so much time trying to figure out how to get more time that I'm probably losing out on this chance to uplift others, and likely myself. The book reminded me that I have opportunities every day, in my home and neighborhood to uplift and leave a positive trace. I can be a Force of Good. Maybe when I get some sleep and have a little peace and quiet.

We've been watching a lot of Star Wars, specifically, the Empire Strikes Back. Growing up I never really noticed the slam-you-in-the-head dichotomy of Good vs. Evil in that movie, right down the Darth Vader wearing black (or as Clara says, Dark Thader). But, it reminds me how every person has a force within them. I can be a Force of Good. I can. Really. I can.

However.

Life is not all sweetness and light.

And, honestly, I'm just plain tired. I'm tired of the mess and the clutter and the constant bickering and whining and nagging and begging and crying.

It is very important to know yourself, to understand your limitations and your abilities.

I am not, nor have I ever been, sweetness and light. I'm more crankiness and snark. Ever since, well, ever, I've required a lot amount of time to myself. I need to think. To process. To recharge my mind and body for human interaction. I need the silence. Or the loud music. I just need to be alone.

When I was growing up we had a big side yard that my Dad would mow every weekend. While mowing, he would wear these really big, I think they were blue, earphones that covered his entire ear. He probably listened to WLW or the Reds or something. Wearing those earphones, combined with the sound of the mower made him impossible to talk to, communicate with, or, really, to bother at all. Those fifteen minutes every saturday were probably the best 15 minutes of his week. Nobody, and I mean, nobody could get to him.

I could use a pair of blue earphones right about now.

Or, how about a set of barstools to block the kitchen door? My mom used to mop the floor in the kitchen, and when she did you couldn't go in until it was dry. She would block the door with barstools. Maybe she sat on the counter reading a magazine in the peace and quiet of her freshly cleaned kitchen. I hope so. I know I would.

I have no earphones and I have no barstools. All I have is a Gym with a playroom with a limit of 90 minutes. Right now, it's not enough, because in order to get there I have to survive so much whining and noise and fighting and just plain drama that it renders the time there useless. I try to go alone, but then I have to rush home to relieve Rick. So, I resort to sobbing in the bathroom begging to be left alone, or as I am right now, sequestered in the basement, telling them, "Just give me 30 minutes by myself, PLEASE."

My tank is below empty at this moment. I can hardly spell my first name, let alone be a Force of Good. At this point, I'm struggling to hold it all together and do the least amount of damage to my children before they, Praise the Lord in heaven above, go back to school on Monday.

Until then, I'll be hiding in the basement pretending to do the laundry.

I like to dance, dance, dance, dance

2011-12-31T07:35:00.001-08:00

So, how weird would it be if I started playing Just Dance by myself when the girls go back to school?

We are loving it.

I thought Clara would be able to do it, but it's a little hard for her. However, if she likes the song she will dance on the side. We had our friend Amy over last night and she brought her dog Wiley. Wiley howled and barked when the songs got difficult and people were really moving. She likes everyone to sort of stay in the same place, I guess. Easier for her to keep track of everyone that way.

Nora, on the other hand, loves it and she and I play it a lot. Last night amy and Rick got in on the action and it is so silly to see other people doing it.i must look like an idiot. But, it always makes me laugh.

Is anyone tired of me talking about photo stream yet? I hope not, because it is AMAZING and the best thing for lazy photographers. Any photo I take on my phone automatically shows up on my computer and iPad. So now, I can blog easier and more quickly about things we do, like have just dance parties with friends. Clara is missing from these shots because she was at a friends house for another late over. Which is another, great story in and of itself.

Our photo stream

2011-12-29T20:36:00.001-08:00

Interesting Developments

2011-12-21T10:38:00.001-08:00

1. This morning I worked out with my trainer and complained about how tired I was the past few days. She suggested I start eating more, since I am working out an extra hour. Don't have to tell me twice. Snacks, here I come!

2. As I went downstairs to the locker room between the training session and my regular cardio workout, another trainer stopped me to tell me how great I look and to compliment me on my work ethic and commitment. She said I make her tired. She's a trainer. Validation is a wonderful thing, especially on days where you may be doubting your abilities (as I often do while in the plank position).

3. I am in love with Photo Stream. It is magical. I took this photo of my feet, just because I can and it's fun, and when I got home and turned on my computer, there it was! Technology rules. Especially when it works in a flawless and seamless manner.

You know, it's funny.

2011-12-20T18:11:00.000-08:00

This morning, as I worked out I wrote a blog post while on the elliptical. You can do that sort of thing when you worship at the altar of Steve Jobs and clutch the iPad virtually every moment you are awake.

Anyway, the blog post, which I will paste at the bottom is about peace. Which, is just about the last thing I've felt since about 3:20pm today. It's 8:13pm and I feel as though someone has been beating me with a large, prickly, heavy stick for the last 5 hours.

I digress. And, I stand by my earlier thoughts and aspire to make large areas of peace within myself. Tomorrow is another day.

From this morning:

Lately, I've been much more of a doing and not as much of a being. Almost everything I've been doing is something I love...shopping for gifts, having drinks with other moms, working out, going to Ohio to celebrate christmas, preparing meals for our family or for friends who need a break, photographing friends for their holiday cards, baking pies for special people.

However.

Since the end of October I've felt unmoored, on a roller-coaster speeding off track. The holidays have only added to this feeling I've had of WWHHHOOOOOOOOOSH. I had holiday plans and I let them go. In an effort to simplify, I said goodbye to some of the things I wanted to do with our family.

Instead, I've worked during advent, focusing and praying and meditating, but sometimes it's not enough.

Today I read a quote about reclaiming large areas of peace within ourselves, that this is our moral duty, and I believe that to be true. It struck me. Something made me stop moving for a moment. To truly pause.

I've been sitting with the experience of Schlater Cristmas not really knowing how what to say about it,besides, you have to be there to grasp the true wonder and magic.

What brings us, all 75 of us to the Hampton Inn in Sidney, Ohio is "surely not just a sense of duty and tradition but a universal longing for connection and love, acceptance and peace." (Katrina Kenison, via her blog: http://www.katrinakenison.com/blog/).

It reminds me again about showing up. Showing up is what gets you that feeling of love and connection. Despite traffic, stress, anxiety, and even exhaustion. Showing up gets you those little moments of magic, acceptance, and love. Those late night laughs - laughs so hard and long that your stomach hurts and your eyes run with tears. Why?

Because three cousins buttoned their shirts all the way to the top to poke fun at another cousin.

Those moments of peace,and especially connection are what it is all about. Not only at Christmas, but all year long.

Where else, and with whom would it be "fun" to sit in the hallway and "Occupy the Hampton."?

Despite the driving, crying, whining. (this time, mostly from me...)

The getting there. The getting there teaches my girls that showing up is important,and it gives them the chance to connect with their cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, great aunts and uncles, with my cousins and with my cousins kids.

It gives them the chance to become friends, to play, have hallway races, do giant art projects, make memories and...request photos of their slippers.

Magic. Love. Tradition.

Yes to all. But mostly?

Peace on earth.

Someone fed my elephant

2011-12-14T18:19:00.000-08:00

Now, in order to completely eat the chunk that is exercise, I'm required to chew on it for 7 hours and 10 minutes per week. I have two questions.

1. Really?

2. This week?

Hear, Live, Know: Jesus was a Radical with a weapon of love.

2011-12-06T09:19:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday, the Gospel was from Mark. The part that reaches back to the book of Isaiah, the prophecy about John the Baptist, wearing a hair shirt and eating locusts and honey, coming before the Messiah.

Bonnie, our Rector, preached about how Mark's is the least pretty of the four Gospels, that the language is simpler and more straightforward. She spoke about the time in which this book is believed to have been written, about 30-40 years after the crucifixion. Written for a group of Christians under persecution from the Roman empire. That is why the language is so straightforward. That is why, in Mark's Gospel, when Jesus is dying on the cross he says "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" In this book of the bible, Jesus is obviously human, and in pain. Mark wants to make clear to the people he wrote for, that God knows pain and lived it through Jesus.

I mention all of this because what she said next smacked me right upside the head.

She said, and I quote "In Mark's Gospel, God comes to us as a savior whose weapon is love and whose message is to every single person who feels discarded, excluded, or ignored ... Mark makes painfully clear that this isn't the complete story this is the beginning of the story - for it is completely dependent upon us who hear these words to then live these words - so that others may know these words."

The bold emphasis is mine.

In my new effort to reduce stress and meditate daily I am using the mantra, Hear, Live, Know and thinking about Jesus, that radical peacemaker, lover of the lepers and prostitutes and the homeless and drug addicts. I focus on trying to make my weapon of choice love and patience. I breathe in and out and say, Hear, Live, Know. I am thankful to have a place to go each week that reminds me that there are people in pain, in need of love and a smile, and maybe even a meal. I am thankful to be a part of that group who if nothing else, remembers these people. I breathe in and breathe out and hope that I can see, really see the people in pain and that I can live in such a way that they will feel God's weapon of love through my life.

Chunks, or Eating the Elephant One Bite at a Time

2011-12-06T09:02:00.000-08:00

Back when I was writing my dissertation, I belonged to an online group of Moms who were ABD at the time. There was constant discussion of how writing a dissertation is like eating an elephant. It has to be broken up into parts in order for it to be done. Not that anyone actually eats an elephant.

Today I was running and thinking about things like how many miles and minutes I've spent this week running. Since I am given a number to work with each week, like 6 hours and 15 minutes, it is very quantitative and clear cut for me how long I need to work out each time in order to get that elephant eaten. Then, I thought about how I organize my whole life into weeks, or chunks, and that the things that work best in my life are ones I break into manageable pieces. For example, the laundry. It's done on Mondays and Thursdays only. But, it's all done then. That leaves me the other five days of the week to focus on other things, without that nagging sensation that there is some laundry to do. All the meals for the coming week are planned and shopped for by Sunday. Work is assigned and broken down into pieces that can be done between 11am-2pm, which is typically when I can do writing and archive work and 7-10pm which is typically when I do photo editing work. For the most part, I am eating the elephant slowly but surely.

However.

Sometimes, I am shown that parts of the elephant are getting neglected. Last night, as I sat in the classroom listening to the graduate students propose how to handle the Schlater Project archive, one group was very concerned about the state of deterioration of some of the items. This took me aback because I try my best to preserve things (but, c'mon, I am using a basement after all). When we left, I said to my uncle, "I think they're concerned mostly with the items that are not sorted and labeled and in files." I really do think that is the major issue. But, it got me thinking.

I have been so focused on eating the portion of the elephant that is the 3,000 letters, that I've let the other items go ignored and unorganized. I take that criticism to heart and vow that portion of the elephant will get some attention in 2012.

One of the things I've implemented that helps me document the weeks, or chunks of our lives is the Project Life system created by Becky Higgins. The page protectors are split up and little bits fit into each one. And, my new iPhone takes great photos and I can send them to my printer at home to get a quick print for the weekly album. I'm geeked to say the least.

Here's hoping that each of you find the best way to eat your elephant really soon.

More on what you love

2011-11-30T10:56:00.001-08:00

I've been having issues with my skin breaking out lately. Probably partly due to hormones, but I find it really frustrating. I saw a new aesthetician recently and described to her what I felt my skin issues were and basically said, "Fix it." She was very zen and soothing and not patronizing or condescending in her advice, which was essentially, "Sometimes when we think we have a skin issue that we have to 'deal' with, what we really need to deal with are the underlying emotional issues and stress that we may be feeling." She may as well smacked me on the head with a stick. Hello? Emotional issues? Anxiety? I'm no stranger to that. She then said, "It's good to try to do things that relax you (read: DO WHAT YOU LOVE -- EVERYTHING ELSE IS BULLSHIT)." She went on, "I try affirmations, meditation, and exercise, which it sounds like you're doing already." How can I relax more? That's all I could think.

So, after I was able to focus my eyes and complete a thought, several hours after that facial, I thought about how I could incorporate more things that relax me into my life. I thought about maybe moving around my workout schedule so that it is more relaxing overall, have incorporated 15 minutes of meditating in on most afternoons before school pickup and have made a conscious choice to do more creative things for myself. First, a few layouts for myself and I felt so much better and reconnected with why I love to scrapbook. Not for hire, not for anyone else, but for me.

That's the trouble I always run into, the hobbies I enjoy end up becoming work when I start getting paid for them, and then, I stop doing them as hobbies. Anyway, it was nice to spend some time re-living last Fall. I'm going to finish 2010 before 2012 starts. Just watch me.

Just when I got myself nice and relaxed, it was Thanksgiving. We went to Stew & Amy's and had a formal dinner including assigned seats and 4 kinds of stuffing and potatoes. Then, the Oldings arrived at our house around 7:30. Clara came down with strep throat around 8:25pm and proceeded to have fever dreams all night. I threw Rick under the bus and he spent the night on the floor next to the couch where Clara was sleeping. She got anti-biotics the next morning and was able to rally and come to Zoo lights Friday night. Sara and I worked out with my trainer. My favorite part of that experience was when I was doing skaters on the gliding discs and sara had one foot in the TRX straps, and was attempting a pike or push up or something and the Pilates instructor walked by and said, with a laugh, "Happy Thanksgiving to YOU." We were both sore the next day. I took some family photos of the Oldings at the ZOO, the kids enjoyed zoo lights for about 10 minutes and we were all ready to go home and eat. Everyone was asleep by 9:30, except Uncle Bryan.

The next day Sara and I putzed around the neighborhood, went to Target, had coffee, conversation and finished all the shopping for the girls from my Mom. It was fun, productive and really relaxing.

Anyway, overall, it was a busy and fun weekend, relaxing but not in a relaxing way. Know what I mean?

Showing up is sometimes scary.

2011-11-22T21:06:00.001-08:00

We've been attending All Saints Episcopal Church since I was pregnant with Clara, but in the past few years we've really grown to know and love the congregation and staff, we've all made friends at church and have each learned something about ourselves by attending.

So, for six years I've been hearing about the Tuesday night dinners that are run by Ravenswood Community Services and housed in the parish hall. I've thought about going to volunteer, but I've either been pregnant, had a baby, toddler, preschooler or some activity that precluded me from going.

Tonight, Nora's ballet class was cancelled. I knew ahead of time, so I decided it was time that Nora and I show up to volunteer. Clara is too little to go unless it is family night, which is only once a month.

The tuesday night outreach is twofold, the pantry distributes groceries with produce and non-perishable items to individuals in need. Tonight there were roughly 350 individuals who showed up for bags of food. In the summertime, our school garden, totally unaffiliated with the church, donates produce for the bags (how is that for synergy). Normally, I think the food comes from the Chicago food depository and is purchased with funds raised for RCS.

In addition to the grocery bag distribution, there is a sit down dinner, a hot meal, including a salad, main course, and dessert, served to anyone in need. Tonight, there were probably close to 200 people there for the meal.

Nora was nervous and scared and told me so. I explained to her that there was nothing to be scared of, these were all people, just like us, only they are not as blessed as we are and they do not have a place to eat or money to buy their food, and we do. So, we were going to do whatever we could to help serve them.

We cut vegetables, bagged "no cook" bags, clearly intended for homeless people, broke large bags of produce into smaller bags, plated cookies, served casseroles, bread, salads, cleared dirty dishes, washed and dried dishes and most importantly, at the urging of Bonnie, the rector, acknowledged each person with a greeting and a smile and "happy thanksgiving" as we served their meal.

There were several children there around Nora's age. At least five times the main cook commented on Nora's politeness, which I believe overflowed due to her fear and discomfort being there. But, sometimes, showing up is scary and uncomfortable. That is sometimes the only path to growth. Honestly, I'm not sure that our presence made that much of a difference. The work would have been done by someone if we weren't there.

But, showing up on a Tuesday night was important to me. I want Nora to see her church making a difference. To see hundreds of people receiving goods and services and blessings that they so desperately need, right in the same sanctuary where she sings and prays and receives communion every week. There is no better manifestation of Christianity than what I witnessed tonight, just by showing up. It is one thing, and an important one, to write a check to help someone in need. It is quite another to put yourself in their midst and know that the person you just gave bread to will probably be sleeping on the ground tonight. Not because they are a drug addict or a bad person. Just because their life is so very different from yours. It is humbling and emotional and I am grateful to belong to a community that walks the walk. I pray I have the chance to show up more often to walk with them.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Affirmation

2011-11-20T19:03:00.001-08:00

Today I spent a little time finishing up a layout chronicling last November. In those photos, Nora had no front teeth. Such a short period of time, but so memorable for a person. You don't have any teeth. I just can't believe I forgot how she looked without those front teeth. That, my friends, is why I scrapbook. Why I take an inordinate amount of photos, spend hours sifting through them, editing, crafting stories. People often say to me, "I don't have time to scrapbook" or "I don't have time to get my photos in order. That's actually not true. Everybody is given the same amount of hours in each day. I choose to spend a portion of the hours given to me documenting, storytelling and preserving our memories.

I'm not sure what else I would do with the time. As Rick says, it's really more of a lifestyle at this point. Today, as I was looking at these photos taken last November, I received affirmation of why I continue with this lifestyle of memory keeping.

I never want to forget.

Determination

2011-11-17T10:35:00.000-08:00

I consider myself somewhat technically inclined. Technology does not scare me, in fact, for the most part I embrace it and am thankful for the ways in which it makes my life better. (I mean, hello - iPad, iPod, etc.)

However, for some reason, I just have not been able to get myself to embrace digital scrapbooking. Creating layouts in CS3 has made me nervous. I could never get the photos to clip into the areas they were supposed to. I tried for two hours last week. Gave up. I bought these templates over the summer, and have been meaning to get to them, because I think it would be fun to create collages to print for our regular scrapbooks. Anyway, despite having loads of other work to do (reading letters, writing summaries, editing photo shoots of mine and others), I decided today was the day. I did it. I finally created a layout, albeit a little boring. And, I couldn't figure out how to get the digi patterned paper as a background, mostly, because I couldn't find where I stored mine on my hard drive.

Anyway, here we go. Perhaps these collages will make it into a digital album printed by Apple. That would be a fun addition to the memory keeping madness around here.

Investment

2011-11-12T13:36:00.000-08:00

"In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die.

Where you invest your love, you invest your life."

Mumford & Sons

This is how I spent my time since last Sunday:

In the car: 12 hours

Lunches packed: 4

Dinners made: 4

Loads of laundry completed: 13

Hours spent cardio training in zone: 6 hours, 15 minutes

Hours spent weight training: 2 hours

Time spent editing photos: 7 hours 14 minutes

Time spent working on family archive: 13 hours 15 minutes

Cups of coffee consumed: 20

Iced lattes consumed: 9

Emails received: 407

Hours spent reading Flipboard updates: 6

Being pampered: 90 minutes

Bottles of wine consumed: 3

Play dates hosted: 2

Play dates arranged: 5

Trips to Target: 3

Trips to Dominicks: 3

Trips to Trader Joe's: 2

Trips to Mariano's: 1

Trips to hardware store: 1

Carloads taken to Salvation Army: 1

Truckloads picked up from Salvation Army: 1

Miles run: 17

Floors climbed on stairmaster: 250

Ponytails created: 8

Items scanned: 82

Grad Students assisted: 6

Time spent writing: 2 hours

Photo shoots: 1

CDs burned: 3

Time listening to Old 97s: 5 hours

Meal planning: 45 minutes

I took virtually no photos of my life this week, other than the brief shoot I did this morning and haven't processed yet. I did spent significant time working with older photos and found this beauty of my Dad doing what he loves, circa 1970s.

Do what you love. Everything else is bullshit.

Where you invest your love, you invest your life. Those Mumford & Sons got it right.

Reading

2011-11-09T11:49:00.001-08:00

In the past few weeks Nora has been consumed with reading. One day she pulled out the adapted version of Pride and Prejudice and I almost squealed with delight.

Since then, she's read at least 7 books. Her older cousin, Grace, gave her a bunch of fairy chronicle books and turned her onto Tumtum and Nutmeg, which she is loving.

Last night, after ballet we laid in my bed quietly reading and when I went to tell her it was time for bed, this is what I got.

I'll wait. Sometimes you just want to finish your chapter. I get it.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Someday...

2011-11-09T09:21:00.001-08:00

These four, if they're lucky, might find themselves looking at this photo, thankful for all the moments, days, weekends...years, that they spent huddled together on that boat. They might find themselves looking at this photo and think about how fortunate and blessed they are to have one another. Chances are, they won't remember the specific day or occasion. They won't remember what they ate, just that there was always a lot of food. They won't remember what they wore, or what car they rode in. They won't remember holding their little cousin's hand, just that there always seemed to be a baby to hold. They won't remember the exact jokes, just that someone always seemed to be laughing. They won't remember the hours they spent traveling to be together, just that they always knew it was important to show up, to be there together. Someday, if they're lucky, these four will find this photo somewhere, smile, and know they were loved.

I should know.

Presence, Connection, Chaos and Prayer

2011-11-01T10:01:00.001-07:00

"Get me through this Lord and I’ll devote my life to you
Things look pretty bleak right now but I know you’ll come through
I’ve squandered my good fortune and my other fortune too
Get me through this Lord and I’ll devote my life to you"

Old 97s

On Friday I wavered momentarily about whether or not to go to the hospital. I did not want to intrude. I just wanted to show support. I went. I cried. I prayed. I stand by my philosophy that showing up is all you can do during times of struggle and difficulty. Presence is undeniable. Yet, sometimes, incredibly painful. It was difficult to be in the hospital amidst that despair and confusion and punishing, inconsolable sadness. Life is that way. Things make no sense, everything comes at you all at once. Incredible sadness. Despair. Annoyance. So many trivialities to distract you from being present for what is important. For who is important. It is critical to be present for those in need. It is just as critical to be present in your life. Really there.

Abi's loss of Mandi is soul-crushing, debilitating, unimaginable. Why? Because of their connection. Their lifetime together, never going longer than a few hours without talking. Twins. We do not experience loss without first experiencing connection. I'm not sure I have experienced the kind of connection they had. I cannot imagine that loss. But, watching it has made me determined to foster important connections. The kind that cause Rick to choke up and say, "They really do love each other."

The kind that exhaust me at times, but bring me two states away, to that project room smelling of candles and sounding like Genoa City.

The kind of connection I see between my girls, between them and their friends.

Focusing on connections and fighting the chaos of demands and "shoulds." Letting. Them. Go. When I was about 35 I decided I was no longer going to do something if it made me miserable or if I dreaded it, unless my family's health and well being depended on it. Sometimes, I backslide and spend too much time trying to please people. Other times I become rigid in my ideas about the way things "should" be. The girls probably shouldn't eat 20 pieces of candy tonight. Really? Does it matter? No. Let it go. They probably should be outside right now, enjoying Halloween. Really? Does it matter? No. Let them connect with each other and the friends they choose right now. Because, really, that is all we ever have. The right now.

The right now. The laundry, the chores, the work. The people. Karen Maezen Miller writes about everyday life and offering it as a prayer in her book, Hand Wash Cold. I thought about that today, while pondering and praying about Mandi, and Abi, and their family during this time of loss. How I can offer each day as a prayer in the vein of Anne Lamott, "Please, Please, Please. Thank you, thank you, thank you." But also, more indirectly, offering each minute and each task, experience, and conversation as a prayer. By becoming present in each moment, does it turn it into a prayer? Can it? Will folding the laundry become a solemn experience? Probably not. But, if I bring myself fully into each moment to connect to what I'm doing, why I am doing it and for whom, that transforms my life into an offering, a sacrifice, gives it purpose. Centering myself forges connections to the people and places and things I love, and I believe turns each day into a prayer.

In the midst of this confusing and senseless loss...I focus on what I love, like Rock Star Birthday parties.

I focus on hot coffee. Early workouts. NPR. Flipboard updates. Iced lattes. Focus on Castle and popcorn with parmesan and butter. Focus on family dinners and stories from the day. Focus on Old 97s and Fruitbats and scrapbooking podcasts. Focus on school play dates and field trips. Walks home from school. I focus on what I love. Focus on date nights. Babysitters who play with kids and take them on field trips. Focus on family archives. Editing photos. Phone calls and FaceTime. Focus on working out hard and getting fitter. Focus on growing little girls who get more independent each day.

I focus on turning life into a prayer.

I focus on what I love.

Everything else is bullshit.

Sometimes staying up late is worth it

2011-10-21T05:45:00.001-07:00

Last night I took a friend and we saw Rhett Miller solo acoustic at Space inEvanston. Rick and I planned to go together, but he ended up on a business trip. The sitter came at 9. Doors opened at 9:45. The opener came on at 10, and was Alex Dezen, the lead singer for the Damnwells. We both commented on how we will probably buy some Damnwells now. He was really good, and he said that his sister calls this tour the "man hair" tour, because he and Rhett have such great hair.

Halfway through his set I noticed that nobody was sitting on the stools at the table behind us, where the DJ from WXRT was sitting. So, I asked him if we could join him and we ended up sitting with him. He thought we were sisters. They were great seats, perfect vantage point, but not super close to the stage.

Rhett played his solo hits and a lot of Old 97s songs, which made me happy. He played Nineteen, and mentioned that the bandmates never want to play it which is why I haven't heard it live yet.

At the end of his set, Alex joined him and the played a rendition of Tom Pettys American Girl that rocked. Not from last night, but you get the idea...

I will try to insert a link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8C_KvQMUEs&feature=youtube_gdata_player ">

Because I was a crazy person in July that stormed the stage for the set list, I was able to relax last night and enjoy the music. Knowing I will see the Old 97s again for New Years helped as well. It was a really fun night out, late, but fun. You cannot deny the hip shaking hand twirling action of Rhett Miller. Never disappoints.

Even though I got less than 6 hours of sleep, sometimes staying up late Is worth it.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Crossing Over

2011-10-17T11:59:00.001-07:00

Yesterday our neighbors entertained a family that recently moved here from Manhattan. The conversation naturally veered to stories of "Back when I moved to Chicago..." I got to thinking, I've approached the time in my life where I have been in Chicago longer than I was in Sidney. I'm crossing over. It is so strange to think I've lived in the city almost 20 years. I remember being so annoyed when people I would meet here would say to me, "Oh, you're so young (22), just wait." Well, I guess I waited (for what?) and now I am that person, talking to my babysitters and graduate students about how young they are, and how it's all pure potential.

Not that I don't feel like my life has potential. But...it does get hard to appreciate the potential, what with all the laundry and shoes littering the rooms, not to mention dirty socks and underwear. Seriously? Can't you just get the underwear into the hamper?

Anyway. It is really odd to think about crossing over. I've felt for more than a decade that Chicago is home, but to think I've surpassed my growing up years, all it really does is make me feel old.

Rick & I were talking recently about how different our children's lives are from ours growing up, but yet, somehow the important things have remained the same. Family dinners. Church on Sundays. Visiting family. So, I guess that is a nice balance. We are happy. Crossing over has been hard at times, but in the end, worth it.

Mockingbird Time

2011-10-15T16:12:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about time a lot recently. One day, I found myself rolling up balls of oatmeal cookie batter, and I became overwhelmed with sadness. Why? Because the recipe belonged to Grandma Weigandt, actually, her Mom. Both of them are gone. I thought to myself, "They both stood at their counters rolling up these cookies and they're both gone. Times like that make me think, "What is the point of it all?" Sometimes I find myself so tied to the past I have to shake myself into the present.

Last week I concentrated on the letters for a while, and whenever I do that I always listen to music from World War II. Because I'm a little bit of a dork, but because it sets the scene for the letters. And, because they discuss music quite frequently in them, I like to know what they're talking about. I've mentioned this before, how Grandpa Schlater loved to dance and would listen to music in the car. I'm convinced when he listened to that music he had the same exact feeling I just had. One of being younger and the sensations and memories and feelings associated with hearing the sounds and enjoying them the first time.

I just came home from the CD store. Yes, I still buy CDs, especially when I know it is one that Rick & I will both want on our iPods. Because, then we can share it more easily. And, supposedly you can only move your iTunes library so many times, but, with the iCloud that could be changing. I digress.

I bought him the new Jayhawks CD, entitled Mockingbird Time. It's a new CD, but it is the first one in a long time with the original band members. Hearing the songs is like stepping back in time, all the way back to the mid 1990s, when I was in my twenties. Overwhelmingly so. I'm sure that Grandpa Schlater felt that way hearing his orchestra music. I wonder if I will always feel this way every time I hear the Jayhawks. Young. I hope so. Here is to more Mockingbird Time for us all.

Endings, Fruitbats, Rabbit Holes, and New Beginnings

2011-10-06T08:48:00.000-07:00

September seemed to be both a month of things started and things ending. School began again. One of my all-time favorite bands called it quits. I received emails of condolence, Facebook posts on my wall, phone calls the day that R.E.M. announced they were no longer a band. They were my entry into music outside of Top 40. I quickly became obsessed with them (surprising, huh?). I loved them. During my senior year of high school, I painstakingly listened to and transcribed the words to the song, "It's the End of the World as We Know It," feeling that, truly, it was the end of the world as I knew it. I was moving on from High School into the next phase of my life.

When I was growing up, I was not allowed to hang posters on my wall. The first thing I did in Oxford, Ohio, after unpacking my belongings and saying goodbye to my parents, was go straight to the bookstore and buy the most gigantic R.E.M. poster ever. It was the cover of the album Murmur, which to this day remains one of my favorites. I never really got into the more recent work the band did, but to me, they will always always always represent my youth, and going out on my own (sort of) to college. I will never forget seeing them, my first concert, at the UNiversity of Dayton arena, and Michael Stipe sat down on the edge of the stage, his back facing the crowd and sang, a capella, "You Are the Everything."

Farewell, R.E.M.

Hello, Fruitbats. Today, in the car on the way home from the gym, I realized that it is nearly impossible to distinguish the lyrics of Fruitbats songs. Their melodies envelop me and there are phrases that catch my ear, but, I cannot sing along. This reminded me of R.E.M., and how difficult it is to distinguish the lyrics of most of their songs. It also struck me how much I love the Fruitbats and how different they are from the Old 97s, where the lyrics are almost always front and center. Yay to all kinds of music. Loving the Fruitbats right now. Or, as the girls say, "That fruit band."

This week has seemed to be full of rabbit holes for me. You know, the kind where you are working on something or focusing on a task and all of a sudden you find yourself distracted and 30 minutes later, you are so far away from the original task it is dizzying.

For example, Monday night I met with the graduate students at Loyola, who have been assigned the Schlater Family Project this year. I had to decide what to bring to class with me to illustrate to them the width, breadth, and sheer enormity of the collection. As I was gathering files and photos, I came upon this big black photo album (again -- I visit it often), and I found this photo:

I see it and think, "Look, that's Grandma holding Dan and me." It is just another example of how she would always grab whatever baby was around. And, feed them a bottle. Always. I think to myself, "I should scan this right now." So, I start scanning and then think, "Hey, didn't I download those photoshop actions that make regular photos look like Instagram photos? I should edit this photo, fix the coloring and then run one of those actions on it." 30 minutes later, I have a photo of Grandma holding Dan and me in my hard drive and I haven't made any progress on gathering files.

Or, let's say you organize your week, chores, workouts, work, meetings, etc. Then, all of a sudden you get an email from the teacher stating your daughter is the star of the week and there is a list of assignments for you that go along with this. Rabbit hole, extraordinaire.

Then, last night, as I was trying to compose an email to a group of kindergarten parents about some good news, I see the alert that Steve Jobs has died. I spend the next 30 minutes mourning his passing and reading blog posts about his genius. Night over. No email composed.

While at Loyola this week, I was lightly reprimanded by my former professor (now colleague?) about her wanting to see me do something with this collection, write an article, publish something. I felt a little annoyed and defensive and also felt about 3 inches tall. Funny how you fall into former roles. But, as I left, I realized I am doing something with this. I am reading all the letters. That has to be step one. I can't write anything without knowing what my data set is and what it has to say. So there. But, if you know me, I love nothing more than someone who challenges me and says I can't do something, or I'd like to see this happen. It gets me thinking, "I can do that. They probably think I can't. I'll show 'em." So, I feel like I have a fresh perspective on the letters and some ideas about how to better provide context for them, for readers both in and out of the family. In a sense, a new beginning.

But, nothing says new beginning more than Kindegarten. This week, in addition to being star of the week, Clara's class had their first true experience being in the garden at Waters Elementary. I grew up in a small town, with grandparents that lived in the country. They both grew things and spent time in the dirt. But, I never really did. I'd love visiting and helping Grandma Weigandt pot flowers, or help Grandma Schlater harvest vegetables from her garden across the road. My lucky girls get to go outside during a class period and pick potatoes. From a garden in the middle of a giant city. With the help of one of God's most peaceful men, Mr. Leki. After going over all the "no's" related to being in the garden, "no running, hitting with sticks, picking flowers or vegetables without permission," he said, "But, what about all the things that you CAN do in the garden? In the garden you can sing songs, you can be with your friends, you can lie on the ground and stare at the sky, you can listen to the birds, you can look for creatures on plants, you can read poems, or draw pictures." I wanted to add, "You can weep with the beauty of the whole idea." But, I resisted and instead, shot some photos of the kids enjoying their new beginning in the garden.

The last photo is a drawing Clara made, inspired by the flowers in the garden. I love that they have this place and that, in addition to learning about nature and ecology, the garden is also a place to be inspired and artistic.

Also, Rick's fiscal year ended at the end of September and he believes that they made their numbers and will end up having a good year. Here's to New Beginnings all around and to a great new year for learning, being challenged, inspired, and creating things of beauty for all to enjoy.

Over the weekend

2011-10-04T10:44:00.000-07:00

We did some chores, cleaned out some closets, bought winter boots, got excited about Halloween and just hung around the house. Saturday, Rick took the girls to visit in Barrington. They had lunch and swam. Sunday was Pet Blessing, which is always a treat to spend the morning in church with barking dogs. Then, we took Karen out for breakfast at a new place in our neighborhood.

A great, relaxing weekend.

"I'm really thanking God I found you for a companion"

2011-09-28T19:00:00.000-07:00

Peaceful, huh?

I have so many balls in the air. That seems to be the refrain of my life, huh? Next week I have a final client meeting with a scrapbook client I've been working with for a few years. I've done all three of her children's birthday scrapbooks. I'm happy to have had the work, but I'm ready to focus on my own scrapbooks for a while.

All of my client books and the supplies I use to make them.

The most recent page. I have four more pages to go and I'm done! There is a small chance she will ask me to continue with their birthdays, but we haven't discussed it, so I am celebrating being done with this portion.

This is where I am in my own photos - October 2010. I really like to stay less than a year behind real time in the scrapbooks, so I will get cranking on that once I finish the client work. There are some pages I've done out of order, so I don't feel that worried. Yet.

I've also been working on some projects for the school, helping organize the parent volunteers schoolwide and in the girls' rooms. So far, I really like both teachers and the girls seem to be doing well. Every day after school, I pick up Clara first and she always reports on her lunch, what she ate in what order. Then, she gets her lunchbox out and begins to finish eating it while we wait for Nora to be dismissed from school. Sometimes, she even carries the lunchbox home opened so she can keep eating. Nora seems to be OK with the amount of food she eats at lunch. Both girls are very good at sitting down and doing their homework right away. I've had to create more work for Clara, since her homework doesn't take as long as Nora's. Clara is simply fine with that. She loves to practice writing and spelling and is very anxious to read.

Next week, before my client meeting on Wednesday, I have to present The Schlater Family Project to the graduate students at Loyola on Monday night. This should be fairly simple, as I did most of the work for it last year and I want this group to approach the collection from scratch anyway. Still, I will have to spend some time gathering samples from the collection and creating DVDs of scanned items for the students, as well as setting up a schedule for when they can come and view the collection in person.

In the meantime, I am trying very hard to squeeze in a minimum of 4 hours per week reading the letters and making notes for the monthly summaries. Every once in a while, I read a sentence that stops my heart for a moment. Today was one of those times. I am reading letters from April 1943, when my Grandpa was in the hospital recovering from knee surgery. The letter was so very Grandpa Schlater, but still somehow surprising. He wrote about finally being able to listen to the radio, The Hit Parade, and hearing Old Black Magic for the first time. It's funny, because I find myself reading this and making connections to the person he was when I knew him. All those rides I spent in his car, with that old fashioned music playing, and me just wanting him to put on the Top 40 station that I liked. I can't remember his station, but I'm sure it was orchestra music - the type he wrote so fondly about, so many times in so many letters. I associated that music with him even before I read so many times how much he loved it.

Back to the letter: He describes how quiet the room is that he is staying in, how the radio keeps him company, but the days are too long. In his reminiscing about the time he spent at home courting my Grandma, he states, "I'm really thanking God I found you for a companion."

I'm really thanking God I found you for a companion.

Talk about a refrain. How would you feel if someone wrote this to you? Most likely, you would feel loved.

It's like I tell Nora about the negative self-dialogue she has going on in her head about Math. If you say it, and write it down, "Math is my worst enemy (which by the way, she has hanging above her desk), it is only going to become true, because you hear yourself say it over and over. If someone wrote to you over and over how important you are to them, how thankful to God they are to have you in their life, you would come to find it true.

I'm really thanking God I found you for a companion.

Seriously? How great is that?

My hope for this collection is that somehow it will remind people how writing is important. How relaying the details of your day helps you remain connected, and important to each other. How you can never tell a person you love them too many times. Ever.

Aside from the historical importance and potential value to researchers, every time I read a sentence like, "I'm really thanking God I found you for a companion," written by one of my grandparents, I find myself thankful. For them, for knowing them as well as I did, for being a part of their family. Thankful for my husband and children and community. I just need to remember to say it, no -- write it down more often. In the meantime, I continue to prepare for the presentation and read, read, read.

So, aside from all of this, I've been beating myself up for not blogging more because this is how I keep track of what goes on so that next year, when I sit down with the photos I will remember what we were up to. In that vein, last week we visited the zoo on the day off school and Rick met us for lunch. It was a little cold, sort of rainy, but still fun.

I still find myself in wonderment standing in Lincoln Park Zoo, a free zoo in the middle of a city where I can go and visit giraffes and lions. crazy.

Last week, our friend Paul found a new TV table for us. He is a collector of vintage items and thrifter and "picker" of sorts. He is also the husband of the Boss Lady, AKA, Karen. We've been looking for something to replace the hulking wooden armoire that we bought in 2000. He found it online and picked it up for us. I met Karen in Skokie and got it from her, and now it lives in our house. It is nice to have the old one gone, but of course, the girls are upset about it and Nora spent the first 48 hours sticking her tongue out at the new set up. ME? I've been sitting on the couch, eating popcorn and watching tv, which was impossible with the former set up. And, might I add, just in time for the new Fall tv season. Loving it so far.

Farewell, hulking tv storage unit. You served us well.

First Day photos

2011-09-26T10:06:00.001-07:00

I realized I never posted photos of the girls on the first day of school.

Documentation

2011-09-22T13:54:00.000-07:00

Clara is really into Photobooth right now. I just synched my iPad and computer and found dozens of photos like this one. I guess she also likes to document her days.

Around here

2011-09-21T11:26:00.000-07:00

Around here, we are adjusting to a new school year, new responsibilities, new teachers, and new routines.

Around here Clara has made some friends already and Nora is adjusting to not having her best friend in the same class. They still manage to sit together at lunch and seem to roll with it.

Around here, Clara is totally absorbed in learning. She's come home every day and told me things ranging from details about Picasso's Blue Period to the fact that "Kindergarten is the most important year of school, because you learn the most." She is eager and motivated and really, really, wants to read. Most of their homework in kindergarten is practicing writing letters and numbers and so I came up with this little idea to help her with her letters. She was insanely excited about it.

I am insanely excited to see her cute little letters and handwriting. It will change quickly and I am soaking up this beginner writing. Nora has a reading log to complete as part of her homework each week, so I made copies of this form and hang it from a clipboard in this area of their room, right under Nora's self portrait. I just haven't taken a photo of it yet.

Nora wanted a calendar to keep track of her days, when to practice guitar, her sleepovers, play dates, and special projects. She enjoys the autonomy, and I think it's fun that she wants to be organized.

Around here, I find myself keeping busy, sometimes missing the constant companionship of a little girl.

Around here, I am enjoying two bands, on repeat: The Fruit Bats and Head and the Heart. Both are highly recommended, especially as Pandora Stations.

Around here, I find new ways to challenge myself. Documenting and preserving the process of writing my dissertation is one. I created this layout and am stymied about how to write about writing and how it wrecks a person, but is also one of the most gratifying things ever. So, I sit on it, enjoy the fun jazz age paper and wait for the writing to come. The second page of the layout will have some of my work, forms, and action plans.

Around here, I am contemplating signing up for a race later this fall, a 10K. Just to see if I could, I ran 6.4 miles this morning. Although, I did have to take a bathroom break halfway through. I'm sort of tired from it, which is odd, since I normally work out for 60 minutes, but I guess running for 55 is more tiring, and I was super tired for the weight portion of the workout.

Around here, I've become a lazy blogger. Simply due to the fact that I hardly open my real computer and have become a consumer of information via the iPad. That gets filed under "Blessing and Curse."

Around here, I am loving the cooler weather, embracing soups, stews, red wine, and slippers.

Around here, I am finally getting around to all those appointments and self-care items that got put off all summer.

Around here, I am plotting and planning out my final custom scrapbook project. I am ready to turn it in October 5 and work only on my personal projects for a while.

Around here, I have finished reading and summarizing and writing about the letters of March 1943, and begin to work on April 1943 while also prepping for a class presentation to Loyola graduate students.

Around here, things are generally good. As my Grandma Schlater would say, "I can't complain."

Back to School Eve

2011-09-06T18:43:00.000-07:00

Inspired by a blog post I read, I decided to have a back to school party. On the blog, the Dad gave each child a blessing he wrote for the upcoming school year. This got me to thinking about what I hoped and prayed and wished would happen for the girls this year.

How I worried about Clara and her bathroom troubles and whether or not she could open her lunch containers. How I worried about Nora, her reluctance to accept the brilliant possibilities of math, her fear of fire drills, and ISATs.

Then, I thought, what if we had a party and everyone wrote down their hopes and wishes for the year? How fun would that be? Then, what if we symbolically and actually sent those hopes and wishes up into the air....on a balloon?

It was a risky proposition, since neither of my children are very good at letting go of anything, from toys to lint to dead flowers, and even a loose helium balloon can send either or both of them into hysterics.

So, I billed this as a back to school party, complete with (what else?) cake, ice cream, and gifts. A party where we would write down our hopes for the school year on two pieces of paper, one to keep for the scrapbook and one to let go. On a balloon. Both girls said they would just stay inside while we let go of the balloon, thank you very much. They couldn't bear to see it fly away.

It took some coaxing. But, by the time we sat down to dinner and had our party, both girls were on board with the situation. Everyone wrote down their hopes and worries and wishes, and I am proud and relieved to say that Nora wrote down, "I'm nervous about the ISATs" and then, she just let it go. Daddy wrote down "No snow days without Dad." Mommy wrote down, "Patience with homework." Clara dictated, "To make new friends."

Nora wrote wishes on slips of paper for a solid five or six minutes. Clara did not quite get the concept as much, but she still participated. It was a great symbolic way to begin the new school year. To air out some concerns and to realize that we are all in it together and that sometimes, it's just best to let things go.

You can watch it here:

http://gallery.me.com/angelaschlater/100811

Facing Facts and Fears

2011-09-02T19:55:00.000-07:00

I guess, since the calendar reads September 2 it is time to face the fact that summer is drawing to an end. While I would like to pretend for you all to be sad about this turn of events I am secretly turning cartwheels on the inside in giddy anticipation of five full days a week to myself.

No, wait, let me re-phrase that. Five days about two weeks of every month, and by full, I mean less than six hours. The girls do attend a Chicago Public School, after all, and by now everyone knows that CPS students attend school the least amount of anyone in the United States, right?

Back to my point. Summer is drawing to an end. August was a whirlwind of weddings, trips, and odd days at home, scrambling for a routine, driving each other batty. If it weren't for The Young and the Restless and my Polar FT60 Heart rate monitor, you all would be visiting me in the psych ward right about now. Summer. Ending. I'm sure, come about mid-February, I will long for days of being outside, fresh vegetables, and crisp white wine. Right now I long to put on some black yoga pants, a tank top, sweater, get out my electric blanket and hunker down with some beef stew and a bottle Rabbit Ridge. While running my space heater and, of course, watching the Young and the Restless. Preferably, in my sister's project room, but one can't really expect miracles.

Something funny and somewhat unexpected occurred this summer. While we were not even looking. Nora grew about half a foot and has quietly become gutsier and more willing to take on her fears head first. Not always, but, she is less inclined to totally lose her mind when she is afraid of something, like, say, a fire drill. Last week at swimming lessons they announced that they would be testing the fire alarm. I didn't think twice about it. Until Nora stopped her lesson to ask me when the alarm would be going off. She is DEATHLY afraid of loud noises. Alarms, fireworks, drills, jackhammers, and the like. Hates them. Well, I thought to myself, "Swimming lesson is over." But, no, I told her I wasn't sure, and she continued with her lesson. Was she still afraid? Yes, but she chose action over paralysis and kept swimming. Progress, people. Serious progress. I remember the days when the mere possibility of a fire drill would send her into a downward spiral of irrational crying and shaking and me feeling helpless.

As I sat here tonight organizing photos on my computer I came across some shots Rick took on the beach a couple of weeks ago in Michigan. This shot of Nora and her cousin, Grace, on the paddle board struck me. I thought, it's not the greatest photo (sorry, Rick), but it definitely tells a story. The story of a little girl, growing into a big girl and overcoming some fears. The Nora of last summer would not have tried this without tons and tons of begging and encouragement and "you can do it, just try it, c'mon, it'll be great, just get on" sort of thing. Rick said she basically jumped up on it and off she went. What you can't see from this photo is that the paddle board is hooked up to a little dinghy sort of boat with a small motor and the guy from next door is pulling the girls around the lake on it! Safe? Maybe not. Fun? Yes. Surprising that Nora tried it? ABSOLUTELY!

I will probably enlarge this and put this photo in the scrapbook for this year with a more thoughtful letter for Nora about how much she grew this summer. Will she be setting off fireworks next year? Probably not. But, maybe, just maybe, we will get her out on the boat to watch them.

Eucharisteo

2011-08-29T11:27:00.001-07:00

I've been slowly making my way through Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts. She is Canadian writer. A wife and mother to six children who lives on a farm. A friend recommended it to me ages ago, and I've just finally gotten around to reading it. The writing style is not familiar to me, and often difficult to read, as she often seems to fall into free-form prayer while she writes, but the concepts are sticking with me. The primary one being Eucharisteo, which is Greek for giving thanks. She challenged herself, or took the dare from God, to catalog one thousand gifts in her life. Basically, a gratitude journal. The question that is sticking with me right now is that if one moment is grace, then what is the next moment, a curse? How can only certain moments be grace and others not?

I've stewed on this for days, amidst my wallowing in self pity and anger at feeling stuck in life. I had a rough week last week, migraines, whiny kids, tantrums, meetings and chores, and whiny kids. Did I mention whiny kids? I reached the very end of my rope, more than once and finally, in my quiet car-sobbing last Friday my children realized they perhaps had pushed me too far.

How could that feeling, that powerlessness, that despair, and inability to see a way out be grace? Because, it passes. The passing of despair is in itself grace and once it passes, the sheer relief brings you to your knees in gratitude that it is over. So, while I'm not exactly grateful for the whiny kids, the migraines, the nausea, the chores or the despair, I am glad that for the moment it has passed and am thankful for a new week and am hopeful it will be a better one.

I needed about 48 hours to myself to recover from that rock bottom place I was in. I needed a lot of sitting, reading, listening to music, just being by myself. I can now, again, see what I love about my life, my family and my situation.

right now I love:

1. The cooler weather

2. Lack of humidity

3. Iced lattes (always)

4. Clara's use of the phrase "Scurvy swabs"

5. The humming of the washer and dryer

6. 75 minutes of hard exercise and the clarity it provides

7. The Fruit Bats

8. Nora, pushing past her fear of loud sounds

9. seeing the girls swim

10. Imaginary pirate games in forts that float on living room rugs

I still don't exactly have my answer to the question about what follows a moment of God's grace, but I am almost certain that just beyond every moment of despair is God, waiting to remind you that you are not alone. That, itself is grace enough for me.

New photo app

2011-08-24T05:57:00.001-07:00

I found this app in the app store (pixlromatic) and am addicted to editing photos. I only have a few photos loaded into my iPad, but it is so fun to play with! It made my cardio workout fly by yesterday morning.

And, who doesn't love to relive fabulous weekends in New Orleans?

I'm considering taking four of my door shots and making a canvas collage for the wall, but haven't gotten that far yet. I'm still not sure if these will transfer and print, but it is fun!

77 Strong in Celebration

2011-08-16T12:16:00.000-07:00

The entire time I was at Indian Lake this summer it felt off to me somehow. Something was missing, I was in a funk, it seemed quieter, despite the construction going on and the dozens of workers around on a daily basis. I thought about it daily, and have concluded this: I missed my cousins. The entire time I was in Ohio, which was almost exactly three weeks, I only saw a couple of cousins. Normally, I see at least a dozen and sometimes see them repeatedly. This time, not so much.

I didn't really realize this was the crux of the issue until this past weekend. We all converged on Mason, Ohio, for Pete & Lisa's wedding. 77 of us were there, the only person missing was Grandma Schlater. Everyone else made it to the church and only Elizabeth and baby Moses missed the reception. Right? Am I forgetting someone? Hard to believe we all made it to one place at the same time.

The Hampton Inn in Mason, Ohio didn't know what hit them. Truly. They had no idea.

I treasure the times we all get together. It makes me really happy. I'm not a super effusive person, so people may not always be able to tell when I'm really happy, but being around my cousins and aunts and uncles refreshes me and makes my heart sing. Although I find traveling and packing and moving my family around the midwest to be exhausting, I do it for the chance encounter of sitting and conversing with aunts, uncles, and cousins and getting to know their children better. I love to hear things like Cecilia couldn't say William when she was younger, so she started calling him Weemo, and now everyone does. I love that. I love parking lot conversations about jobs and recycling beer cans. I love to hear that reading this very blog has turned several of my younger cousins onto fantastic musicians like Adele and Ray LaMontagne. I love making plans to see live music together. I love to see Anna and Olivia Schlater and how much they resemble Anna Neu. I love how there are so many great-grandchildren that could be mistaken for siblings.

Weddings are such a great time to celebrate, and the wedding itself was wonderful, but the magic happens in between, the swims in hotel pools, sharing cheerios on the lobby, or the impromptu cocktail hour between the ceremony and reception. The sitting. The talking. The connecting. That is what refuels me (and I would argue others) and motivates us to make it to the next party, wedding, graduation. It's the connections that we make to one another on weekends like this that hold us together. Ok, and a good party.

And, let's be honest, every one of us Schlaters loves a good party.

Here is a sampling of what we love:

Dances with Uncles.

Lots and lots and lots of kids.

Helping one another.

Dances with Papaws.

On the spot family portraits.

Snacks.

Hugs.

Conversations.

Laughs.

And, a good, old-fashioned Virginia Reel. Of course.

August. Aaah.

2011-08-09T18:35:00.000-07:00

Well, I guess it's August already. Last year we were gone most of August, and this year it looks like it is the same story. Different year. I have been trying to get some personal scrapbooking done in the past two weeks. I'm obsessed with a paper company called Echo Park right now and almost every layout I've done, that covers photos from last summer, features Echo Park papers from the Playground and Summertime collections. They've really worked well and I feel somewhat productive. Although, I have only taken the time to scan in one (and the right side of it got cut off).

It is nice to remember...

Mrs. Degen -- my magic person

2011-08-07T19:41:00.000-07:00

A really long time ago I read an essay by Carrie Fisher. In it, she describes how the earth was once filled with only one tribe of people that somehow became dispersed and members of the tribe lost one another. But that if you are lucky, in your life you happen upon someone from your tribe, a "magic person." These people "give without keeping lists, and receive in gratitude." I met one of my magic persons over twenty years ago and yesterday, she got married.

Karen has given me so much as a friend, and we have shared so many laughs, jokes, tears, experiences, naps, meals, and drinks of every sort from caffeine wars to bottles of wine. I can't imagine how she could have ended up marrying someone any more perfect for her than Paul. Their wedding was beautiful, and Karen was happier than I have ever seen her. Ever. I feel blessed to have been a witness, and I feel even more blessed to call her my friend.

Happy new life to you, Karen Ellis Degen. You finally have that middle name!

Blueberries, Cherries, and me

2011-08-01T19:07:00.000-07:00

At our recent block party I got to talking to a woman who works at the Produce market downtown. This means that her job is to receive produce from farmers and distributors and then sell it to local grocery stores. So, she gets the freshest produce possible in the city. The first thing I thought was, "Cool job." The second thing was, "Can you get me some blueberries?" I really loved picking blueberries last summer, and it won't work out this year. She said she would and last week delivered a flat (12 pints) of blueberries to my door, probably a day or so after they'd been picked in Michigan. She was supposed to charge me $30, which was a decent price, but she gave them to me for free because someone owed her a favor and she got them at no cost.

So, I jammed half of the blueberries and froze the rest to enjoy for snacks. I love to make jam. I believe it is my new hobby. There is something insanely satisfying about taking a bunch of raw berries and turning them into organized jars of yummy-ness.

Then, this weekend, just because I saw Martha Stewart on the Today show, and I had a bag of fresh sweet organic cherries at home, Nora and I decided to make a cherry pie. It was our first attempt. Very delicious. A little labor intensive, but still fun.

And, I'm still obsessed with using Instagram on Nora's iPod. Obsessed.

Instagram

2011-07-26T20:44:00.000-07:00

For so long I've coveted the app Instagram for the iPhone. They don't have one for iPad. Then, today I realized that I could put the app on Nora's iPod touch. And, we took turns shooting photos with it. Fun little diversion. The images are really small in resolution, so they probably won't print well, or only really small, haven't yet tried. But, they would probably make a cute grid layout if printed 2x2 inches or something. Anyway. An old house looks so much better with a funky filter, as does an old garage, and an old Mom.

Block Party 2011

2011-07-22T18:49:00.001-07:00

What's my favorite thing about the block party?

The fact that it is a solid 10 hours of the girls running wild in the streets. and a solid 6 of those I can do whatever else I want to do, because I don't have to worry about them getting hit by a car.

The love the block party, from the first moment of walking straight down the middle of the street, to the hair and body paint, the water balloon fights, tattoos, the fire engine visits and the can of Sprite with dinner. It's their favorite.

I enjoy eating dinner outside and catching up with the neighbors in the evening. It was perfect weather this year too.

Nora took most of the photos this year. I'm sure she will add that to her list of things to do at the block party next year. The girl has quite the memory!

Enthusiasm vs. Obsession

2011-07-22T17:54:00.000-07:00

My friend Laura once told me that one of the things she loves about me is my enthusiasm for things I love. I believe we were discussing the Academy Awards, which I spent most of the 1990s and 2000s loving. A person just doesn't coincidentally write a dissertation on film if they aren't passionate about it. Anyway, I used to have a party every year in my apartment for the Oscars and once my cousin Elizabeth brought Oscar shaped chocolates. I digress. Back to my enthusiasm for things I love. I pondered this statement earlier this week as I stood in a crowd of other grown adults, ranging from their mid-twenties to mid-fifties, waiting for the Old 97s to take the stage. I suppose when acquaintances and babysitters start noticing that your favorite band is Old 97s you've reached critical mass in your obsession. Or, when your five year old child says, "Mom, I think you have a cwush on Wett Miwwer" (translation: I think you have a crush on Rhett Miller...the lead singer of Old 97s).

I prefer to consider myself enthusiastic about them.

I mean, is it odd that I can say without a doubt that I listen them for an hour per day at least 5 times a week at the gym? That, in the car, my favorite thing to do is have the girls guess if it is an Old 97s song or a solo Rhett Miller song. Is that odd? How about the fact that I have a framed, signed poster from their Spring tour, two t-shirts and can now add a stolen set list to my collection?

As I stood there, on the first of two magical nights, I thought, "I think this is my new obsession." I don't even really watch the Oscars anymore. For a $25 ticket I was able to stand 6 ft from them the first night and smack up against the stage, nose on Ken's guitar on the second night. I never even got close to getting a ticket to the Oscars. I think this is better money and time spent.

The first night's show had some ups and downs. It seemed as though Rhett Miller was off in some way, like he was cranky or hungover or disenchanted with the crowd and the sound. He hardly shook his hips or did that swingy guitar thing I love so much. He did, however, play almost every single one of my current favorite songs.

When you listen to a band's entire catalog for 10 or more hours a week your favorite songs shift and change. Approaching the first night's show, my favorite was Bel-Air, (known for it's catchy refrain of "I'll stomp a mud hole in your heart) and I had yet to hear it live. It was on an older release, so I doubted they'd play it. But, sure enough, the third song out was Bel-Air. They also played St. Ignatius, Victoria, Doreen, and Big Brown Eyes. Those four cover our entire family's favorites. But, there was something off. They just didn't seem that into the show. I'm not complaining, I just noticed that the entire thing was a little subdued. They were filming, so maybe that was it. Who knows. But, by the middle of song one on night two, as I stood in the front row, I noticed that Rhett was back and I turned to say so to Rick and the woman behind me said, "Thank you! He was not himself last night." All of us crazy Rhett Miller fanatics stand together I guess.

The second show was better on an energy level, maybe the sound was better too, and they just had more fun, as a result the crowd did. I introduced myself to all the people who I saw the night before, including the camera men who said they got some shots of me from the first night. The woman standing immediately to my right kept to herself and did not seem too friendly. She took the set list from the opening act, and once they taped Ken's list to the ground, I saw her eyeing it. As a result, I spent most of the show obsessing over how I was going to box her out and grab the set list for myself. I sized her up, I'm taller than her. I work out. A lot. I have longer arms. And, when they taped the set list down, she said to me, "What is 'Halcyon'?" I told her she'd recognize it when they played it, if she had all the albums...you know, it goes, "Here's to the Halcyon, forever may she...." She responded, "I think there is one I don't have." I almost pushed her in an Elaine from Seinfeld way and said "Shut up!" Why bother getting there so early and standing at the stage if you DON'T EVEN HAVE ALL THE CDS? I decided she did not deserve the set list. I waited and watched and plotted, and sang along and danced. When the final chord of Time Bomb finished, I saw her jumping, in an attempt to grab the set list, I threw up a right elbow, launched myself over the speaker, grabbed the set list and ran towards Rick shouting, "Drive Louise Drive!" Not really, I just said, "Let's go, hurry, before she comes after me." His response? "Oh, she won't, she knew she was bested. I've never seen you move like that."

All I need is a little motivation. A signed set list from Rhett Miller is motivation enough. Turns out it is a xerox, but still. It sat on the stage, 24 inches from my beer the entire show.

It was an interesting experience to see a band play two nights in a row, especially a band that you love so much. I wavered between excitement, but also that feeling of not wanting time to go too fast, because to me, seeing the Old 97s play live is a little like Christmas day is to a child. It only comes around once a year (well, they come around more than once, but you get the idea).

Just like a child doesn't really know what presents Santa will bring, you never know what songs the Old 97s will play (unless you can see the set list). I found that there were times during the show I wished I couldn't see it. I like feeling the song as they begin the first chords and knowing it by heart right away, rather than anticipating it because I can see the list. I also missed seeing the stage as a whole and how they interacted. I won't trade the experience of being up so close, but I did think about it on a few songs, especially where they wail on the guitars together, it's nice to see them in sync as a whole.

All in all, it was a super fun (albeit exhausting) way to spend two evenings with Rick. We haven't gone out on a Monday and Tuesday, in a row, maybe ever. I'm not sure. It's been a long, long, time.

My beer. On the stage. 24 inches from...

The set list.

Rhett's feet. I'll probably frame it.

Long Live Enthusiasm!

Things I love right now...

2011-07-18T14:15:00.000-07:00

1. Wi-Fi everywhere.

After spending three weeks with limited internet service (and that, thanks to my Mom and her wifi hotspot), I love that my hotspot works all over town and most places already have wifi.

2. DVRd shows. Seriously. How do we live without it?

3. Naps.

I love that I can go upstairs and take a short power nap and nobody tries to escape the house, start the stove or stab one another. Are they watching TV? Probably. Things could be worse. See above: stabbing or stove starting, to name two scenarios.

4. The GYM

I love it. My blood pressure drops 20 points upon entering the building. The new parking lot shaves a good 10 minutes off the whole situation too, which only makes it better.

5. Dominicks

It truly is my most favorite place. How stupid and pathetic is that? The people know me, the coffee lady makes my drink before I approach the counter and the checkout guys say hello to my kids. I'm there every other day, just because I like it and inevitably think of something I need at the store. And, as a bonus, I normally run into a friend or two that I haven't seen in a while when I'm there.

6. No Homework

I am really going to be sad when we go back to having to do homework every afternoon. My blood pressure usually goes back up the 20 points that the gym lowers it when 3 pm rolls around and the worksheets come out of the backpack. But, last year was significantly better than the year before, so perhaps we're on a roll.

7. Clara's accent

It's really more of a speech impediment, in all honesty, she doesn't say her "Rs." It makes things like Darth Vadar sound like Dawth Vadaw, or really in that instance she says "dawk vadar."

8. Flipboard on the iPad. It's my go-to reading source at the moment. I hardly ever turn on my real computer any more.

9. The Old 97s. Always the Old 97s. I've had dreams about them almost nightly for the last week. Rick says it's odd for a woman my age. I don't care. I am completely obsessed and am seriously going to savor each and every minute of my double-header concert experience.

10. Cute photos.

Keeping watch and remembering

2011-07-11T05:53:00.000-07:00

Memory is a wacky thing and every one of our senses feed into it. Sight, smell, touch, taste, hearing. Coming around the curve of the road and seeing Grandma Schlater's house. Knowing that I have arrived. The sounds of the boats, the glare of the sun, the funky slightly fishy smell of the lake, the way the sun burns your skin at 5:30pm by the pool. I've spent the past 36 hours thinking about memories and how I form them and how I want to support the formation of memories for my girls. My memories depend a lot on the visual cues found in photos, but are not complete without the sensory cues that a place like this provides. The photos are the catalyst to stir up the other senses to say, "Oh, yes, Indian Lake. I remember that." You know how, after you travel you come back and your clothes smell like the place you were? And, you remember. That's what photos do for me. So, this week I vow to make a better effort to watch for opportunities to capture moments that will serve as memory prompts for me in the coming year, before I get to return to this place.

Lake. Finally. Whew.

2011-06-27T20:16:00.001-07:00

We made it to the lake on Friday. The trip went well, and we got settled in before our friends came on Saturday. We've taken a few boat rides already, done some swimming with cousins and friends and spent tons of time outside.

Today was pretty cool because two fun things happened in the pool. Clara and Adrian started jumping in off the side all on their own, and Nora stood in the shallow end and caught Tucker when he jumped in off the side, pretty cool. She is getting pretty good in the pool, for sure...

Tomorrow: donuts on the boat.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Exhausting

2011-06-23T21:30:00.001-07:00

Packing for the Indian Lake trip is exhausting.

The other day, we sat in the doctors office waiting for the ENT to lookat Clara's throat. She was sitting in the "special" chair, which was the exam chair. Nora and I sat, facing her. We were there maybe 2 minutes, waiting. Clara sighed heavily, and rolled her eyes dramatically and said "AAaagh. This is exhausting."

I think I must use that word a lot.

Since I type this from my iPad, I don't have a wealth of photos to supplement my story, but I do have this gem the girls made in Photobooth.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Summer....so far

2011-06-22T18:17:00.000-07:00

Last friday was Nora's last day of school. We dropped her off at 9 and picked her up at 10. Sort of silly, but whoever said sending your child to a Chicago Public School made sense? Not I.

Afterwards, we walked to Lincoln Square to pick up contacts for me, gym shoes and have lunch and gelato. We happened upon Story Time at the Book Cellar and wandered back home leisurely. It was the best of all things summer in the city.

Clara has been enjoying summer for a few weeks now, in addition to enjoying her third bout of strep throat in 6 months, which earned her a trip to an ENT specialist. Nothing major, but we have to track her illnesses and if they continue then it may be tonsils out for her. But, aside from that she has attended a birthday party and had a play date with her friend here, which was fun for them and Nora, who decided to partake in the day's dress-up activity, all the while reminding me "Mom, you better be grateful, I'm doing you a HUGE favor." She look hugely put out, huh?

we finally made it to the pool!!

Nora, in Lincoln Square

Clara at a birthday party

Orange Crush treat at lunch after school got out...

Nora with Ms. Allingham

The headband/glasses from Hailey's party

Nora and friends on last day of school

This week has been dance camp, which has been a hit, play dates, the gym, a trip to the doctor and the movies with a sitter.

Me? I've been scrambling, editing photos for work, finishing up scheduling letter scanning, figuring out who is going to empty the dehumidifier so the letters don't melt, and making lists galore to get me to Ohio. In the back of my head, dreaming of that first scalding hot day out on the boat, sweating and listening to country music. Sweet summer, here I come.

I've only thought about what to pack, haven't really done the grocery shopping yet, although when I walked out of Costco with 4 jugs of Crown Royal, a case of beer, a bottle of champagne and a big bottle of gin, the guy that checked my receipt asked what time the party started and I said "All summer long." I guess the most important things are taken care of, right?

Summer

2011-06-09T20:41:00.001-07:00

This morning, I didn't get out of bend until after 8. It is almost summer, even though today the weather is like Fall again. The other day Clara and I sat outside on the porch and drank coffee together. It was so much fun. I believe we will probably make it a summer tradition. Her coffee was mostly milk and sugar, but morning coffee is really, truly, about the waking up ritual and not as much about the actual beverage.

Nora essentially only has four more days of school, and one hour, since the last day is only report card pickup. I'm trying to decide how we will celebrate. It won't take much. This past Sunday I decided to buy some lemonade cans and orange crush for summer. The girls asked what it was for, and I said "summer" and they both screamed with glee and said I was the best mom ever. It won't take much. Because, it's almost summer break. And almost time for cups of coffee on the porch. Every day.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Soon.

2011-06-07T19:50:00.000-07:00

Soon, the traffic won't matter. There will be no homework. There will be no soccer, ballet, art class. No swimming lessons. Soon, the bedtimes will slip towards 8pm and awake times will slip towards 7:30am. Soon, there will be sitting and talking and drinking of beverages. Soon, the photo shoots will be over. Soon, the work will pause and the fun will begin. Soon, I will leave the urban for the rural. Soon, we will roll down the windows for that first sweet smell of fresh cut hay and manure and that unmistakable scent of summer. Soon, we will be at the Lake. Soon.

Not soon enough for me.

Time

2011-06-01T19:32:00.000-07:00

I am catching up to myself in scrapbooking time. Well, not really, but I am almost finished scrapbooking May 2010. This is the first page of the layout about Clara's party at the scrapbook store last year. But, the really exciting thing for me is that I used a cookie cutter to make the crown for the title. And, it was the same cookie cutter I used to make little crown jello jigglers for the party. Clever, huh? Whenever something like that happens I always think of my Grandma Weigandt. She always came up with the most clever solutions for things around the house or the most creative ways for using things. More on that later.

For now, just enjoy the princess.

May

2011-05-26T13:46:00.001-07:00

This month:

Someone turned 5.

Someone turned 40.

A school turned 100.

Someone ran Teacher Appreciation Week at Waters.

Someone made their First Communion.

Someone helped make strawberry jam.

Someone turned 6 months old.

Someone had a ballet recital extravaganza.

Someone (who shall remain nameless) worked an average of 25 hours a week, even though there are only 15 hours in which there are no children home and the fact that they are technically unemployed.

Someone won VIP seats at school performances.

Someone drank 8 bottles of chardonnay.

Someone averaged 6 hours a week at the gym.

Someone slept in curlers. Twice.

Someone made space ships out of clothes baskets.

Someone took no time for blog posts.

Someone will post more blogs in June.

iPad2

2011-05-11T21:27:00.000-07:00

I finally figured out how to post from my iPad. This is definitely going to make posting easier. The fact that I do not have to leave the city limits of Chicago again this weekend will help, as well.

Things have just been so busy here. Once again, one too many part time jobs. Said yes one too many times.

The greatest thing yet about this iPad situation and the whole Apple setup I have going is that I can bring the "Letters" with me and read on the go. I will find chunks of time more easily this way and can keep notes on my notepad, which seamlessly syncs with my laptop, where I track my hours and keep the log of notes for writing the summaries. I've read 5 or 6 letters tonight alone, which is 5 or 6 more than I've read in months. I bet I dream of 128 Woodhaven Drive tonight. I often visit in my dreams. Usually, it is a holiday and there are dozens of cousins and aunts and uncles and babies to see. Having these letters and words in front of me places my grandparents voices in my head, which is a blessing and ever constant reminder to do my best, no matter which of my 56 part time jobs I may be doing at any given moment.

I get this restlessness and need to DO honestly. It is the Schlater, maybe Streacker in me.

"February 19, 1943 - I hate it when I don't have a thing to do."
Nettie Streacker

I think about this line that she wrote when she was so very young and how that is such a strong part of her personality,
or was until very recently. I think of the nurses at Dorothy Love who give her baskets of washcloths to fold to keep her hands busy, to give her "a thing to do."

Most of the time I have something to do, but I guess it is because I, too, hate it when I don't have a thing to do. I'm so happy we were able to be in Sidney last weekend to celebrate with Evie, but boy, am I relieved to bed home for more than 5 days in a row.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Living the dream for 10 years now.

2011-04-28T10:23:00.000-07:00

When I was a young girl, I loved the song So. Central Rain, by R.E.M. I identified with the part of the song about a "city on a river there's a girl without a dream." I always felt like that was me. Living in a small town without a dream, other than getting out of the small town. The extent of my dream was to be living in an apartment in a big city, with a job. More of a goal than a dream, I guess, but, seriously. That was my dream of childhood. To be on my own.

My point being that I didn't even realize I had a dream until the day I met Rick and I began to see the possibilities of my life and our lives together. Because, even though he still probably doesn't believe it, the minute I laid eyes on him in those red pants (haha) I thought to myself, "That looks like a perfectly normal guy that I could marry." That probably doesn't seem overtly romantic, but I guess when I met him I realized my dream. To be part of a couple and to be someone's partner and eventually someone's Mom. I stepped outside of myself and began to envision my life as part of something larger, a family of my own. That, is the ultimate dream. My family of origin is very close and I've always felt blessed to be part of the larger Schlater and Weigandt families, as well. But...to have my own family, husband, children, home. To be the center of that for my kids and to create those memories and foundation for their future is beyond any dream I could have imagined laying on my bed at 885 Crescent Drive.

What I've learned over the past 10 years is that while big, lofty dreams are great and all, the dream of a life lived well and lived part of something larger than yourself may be the best dream of all. It's not the big moments that matter so much in life as the little ones, the after dinner shows put on by our daughters, the dance parties, the bike adventures, playing on the beach, the best and worst at dinner, boat rides at the lake. The homework help and bedtime stories. The ability to get through the day to day and still take time to appreciate each other, and the happiness felt just sitting on the couch, listening to music, drinking wine and talking.

Although we are geographically apart today, the 10th anniversary of our wedding day, I spend the day feeling grateful, blessed and loved. I really do feel like I am living the dream, the dream I didn't even know I had until I met Rick.

Summer.

2011-04-27T10:22:00.001-07:00

I spend almost every day dreaming about summer. The weather. The freedom from homework and classes and activities. This summer is going to be the best yet, I think. We are firmly out of the nap era. The girls play well together (most of the time). Both girls will be swimming on their own by June. We are going to go to the pool. Spend three solid weeks at Indian Lake. Come back to the block party. Then, the best part? Wait for it....The Old 97s play two nights in a row in July. Here. In my hometown. For $25 each night. You can't buy that kind of joy. Well, you can, for $25 bucks a night, not counting the babysitter and the beers. Bliss, I tell you. I was so excited to find this information in my twitter feed this morning that I ran 5 miles without trying just listening to my favorite tracks by them. It will be a great summer I tell you. Great.

Now, if I can get myself out of distraction mode and get down to work, I will really be free this summer to enjoy the lake and the boys from Texas in my hometown.

mousercise

2011-04-27T09:52:00.000-07:00

Last week Nora was at work with Rick on Wednesday, so I took the opportunity to spend time in Clara's ballet class and take some photos. Every week, they warm up with a Mousercise Medley, led by two elementary age girls, one in 5th grade and one in 6th. It is so heartwarming to see these still little girls leading even smaller girls in a class. I choked up watching. Then, I choked up more when I saw how earnest Clara was in her exercise. She takes it very seriously and listens to all of the instructions and follows directions so well. It is so great to watch. I got a few great shots but more than that, I was happy for the chance to sit and watch the class for a few minutes and then get to know the woman who runs the ballet program. Grateful for that little breather from running around and working and chores.

Two things I love about these photos:

1. Clara's legwarmers

2. the fact you can see her undies peeking through the tights, but she couldn't care less.

Love that.

Of course, we had to download the Mousercise Medly and now the girls do it every morning and evening. The best part of that is that it is one way for Clara to be the leader in the house and teach everyone the "moves." She loves it!

Nora

2011-04-23T17:28:00.001-07:00

Quite possibly, my favorite photo of Nora. Ever.

vivid

2011-04-12T17:43:00.000-07:00

Nora is approaching the age for which I begin to have vivid memories. Up until about age 8 my memories are snippets, but I completely remember being 9. I thought I was so big. I remember thinking to myself, whenever I played with my little baby cousins, "I'm really good with kids." I was 9 or 10 at the time. Obviously, I was a kid.

Anyway. I really remember my First Communion being a special day. I remember all of the preparation in school. Practicing with unconsecrated hosts. I remember first reconciliation and how nervous I was. I remember the dress. The ring from Grandma Weigandt. I remember the party and the gifts and my Grandparents being there. Taking photos with my parents and friends in the parking lot after church. I totally remember it. There are few days in your life that stand as markers. For me, most have been sacraments. Or birthdays. I was so excited for Nora to have her Solemn Communion. In the Episcopal church, anyone can receive communion once they've been baptized. The process of Solemn Communion, which for Nora involved six weeks of classes for two hours every saturday, teaches the children about the meaning of the Eucharistic Rite and gives them a chance to begin thinking in a meaningful way about the role God plays in their lives. They all had journals they wrote in. They made prayer stoles and placed them on their prayer buddies during the liturgy. Each child chose an intention to read aloud during the prayers of the people.

As I mentioned in my list of things I know for sure now that I am 40, I believe that faith and acts of faith, rituals of faith, such as the Sign of the Cross, saying the Rosary, attending a church service, not only connects us more deeply to God but to those who came before us in faith. For me, that is my parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles. But, now, I stand before Nora as a person of faith. I am not always completely overt in my faith. But, I do pass along prayers that are important to me and I guess Nora is getting it. Because, child after child during the prayers of the people stated their intentions to pray for the victims of the tsunami and earthquake in Japan, keeping animals safe, for those who are sick, but Nora? She said "For my Mom who taught me to pray, "Hail Mary Full of Grace, the Lord is with thee...." I totally lost it and only heard the first part because I was trying not to slide into the ugly cry in the front row at All Saints. Later, I learned that she wanted to pray for her Great-Grandma Weigandt, her Aunts and me, and she thought they were supposed to write out a prayer they knew. The teacher told her that it was fine to write out a prayer they knew and maybe to mention who taught them the prayer. Still, the fact that she wanted to pray for her Great-Grandma illustrates my point about faith connecting us to the people who came before us. Nora hardly knew Grandma Weigandt, who was hugely important to me. I talk about her all the time and how much I learned from her and loved her. Grandma always said the rosary. Constantly prayed. Teaching my girls to pray connects them to her. But, I am not a person to freestyle pray. I don't just list out what I'm praying for or concerned about. I say the Hail Mary and hold those intentions in my heart. I use the Hail Mary as a meditation and send out all those prayers that way. I was just so proud of Nora to stand there and say that prayer and how hard she worked to prepare for the day and how seriously she took the entire thing. Not once, did she complain about any aspect of the process. Not. Once. She can log about 35 complaints in a 20 minute period on a normal day, but she didn't once complain about going to class or any of it. What a blessing.

Nora was super lucky to have her best friend Eva there to share the day with her. Eva beamed the entire time. They both did.

Part of her class.

After each intention, the child placed their candle in a bowl of sand.

Nora, stating her intention.

Each child wore a white garment made especially for Solemn Communion and wrote their name on the garment with a gold pen. These garments will be passed down to the next class, thus connecting these children to future children on their faith journeys.

Another connection I saw that day is somewhat more trivial, but still seems important to me and another thread that ties us to our family. Nora asked for her hair to be done in a very specific way, one that she doesn't normally wear. As I saw her it dawned on me that is how Grace Olding wore her hair on her First Communion. It was important for Nora to feel connected to her special cousin on this day. We carry each other in our hearts. Always.

Don't blink, or else.

2011-04-07T07:53:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure when this happened. Sometime in the last couple of months, Clara stopped taking baths and now prefers showers. She will not allow me to lay out her clothes or choose them. If I do it will automatically cause her to refuse that option, so I gave up. Nora has really matured in the last few months and is quite helpful for the most part. She helps Clara with her shower and comforts her when she's upset and tries to help her understand things.

The other day at school Nora received this star from her student teacher. She was so proud of it, and ran out of the building to tell me all about how she got a star for good behavior and being helpful. I congratulated her, and she ran off to play. I didn't really think much about it and then at conferences yesterday, the teachers asked me if Nora told me about her star. I said, yes. Then they said, "Did she tell you why she got a star?" I said, "For good behavior." They said, "yes, but, really it was for being a good citizen and a kind friend." They explained that there is a child in Nora's class who has some learning challenges and is not a very strong reader. This child was having a difficult time with the reading assigment, and Nora was finished with it. So, Nora went over to the child and read the story out loud so that the child could understand it and do the assignment. The teachers said that Nora didn't make a big deal out of it, but that it was very meaningful for that child to have been helped. I had o bite my tongue to keep tears from welling up.

I've been sensing this emergence of Christian stewardship in Nora. Quietly, she has gained more patience and tolerance and ability to empathize with others. I credit her Solemn Communion classes and also her maturity level. It is gratifying as a parent to hear a teacher say that your child is a kind soul. By no means is this entirely our doing. Especially me. Not one person I know would describe me as a patient person, that's for sure. But, I try to be kind and helpful to other people, and maybe Nora picks up on it.

Another thing that has been happening a lot involves the girls filming themselves and taking photos on Nora's iPod. They all sync with my computer, so it is fun for me to see this kind of thing:

http://gallery.me.com/angelaschlater#100689

Enjoy!

A whole new level of insanity!

2011-04-04T18:56:00.001-07:00

I just tested out the scanner and realized that I can scan negatives!!!

I decided that I'd like to have some of Nora's baptism photos out at her Solemn Communion celebration, and because most are in her scrapbooks, I wanted to reprint some from the negatives. I thought to myself that one of the scanners had a negative tray, and sure enough, I got it to work. This could really take this photo/scrapbook/family history thing to a whole new level of insanity!

I especially love this one, because that doll is Josefina, the same American Girl doll that Allison gave to Nora a couple of years ago. And, Allison is around the same age as Nora is now in this photo. The circle of life.

No Justice

2011-04-03T17:29:00.001-07:00

None. No justice will be done by any of the following photos. I seriously need to upgrade my point and shoot camera so that I can capture on the go moments better. But, you get the idea from the following.

I saw the Old 97s again. In Madison, at the Barrymore. Great show. Smaller venue than the Vic, even. Karen, Amy, and Laura went with me. I didn't get a shot of Laura from the weekend, but she was at the show, standing with me amidst the bouncing and jumping crowd of thirty to forty-ish year olds singing along to the songs. Bless her.

Karen and Amy and I goofed off and stayed up late and ran on treadmills and ate copious amounts of junk food, retold every story and joke from college and beyond. It was a great weekend of just being.

photos from my birthday

2011-03-31T10:25:00.001-07:00

2011-03-25T13:09:00.000-07:00

I woke this morning to breakfast in bed and gifts from the girls including a squeezer and a masher from Clara. (Citrus squeezer and potato masher) and a fabulous Old 97s shirt from Rick.

All week I've been composing this list in my head, of things I know for sure at my now decrepit age of 40. Below I share them with you, in random order.

1. Time alone heals the soul.

2. Living in a city sometimes makes things way harder than they should be.

3. Reading is the best way to expand vocabulary.

4. Exercise is essential to my mental health.

5. It’s better to do all of the laundry twice a week than to do a little every day.

6. Young and the Restless = happiness + home.

7. People are less annoying after I’ve had a cup of coffee.

8. Life is nothing but a series of choices.

9. A good photograph will always fill my heart.

10. Life is too short to drink bad liquor.

11. or coffee.

12. or wine.

13. Beginning a prayer with the Sign of the Cross not only connects me to God but also to my Grandparents that have gone before me.

14. Some people are more photogenic than others.

15. I’m not a morning person.

16. Employing a cleaning person will save your marriage.

17. There are no days off for Moms. Ever.

18. Knowledge of history is never a bad thing.

19. That first warm day of Spring, when it hits above 60 degrees, there's nothing quite like it.

20. Crown and coke will forever remind me of my Dad.

21. Saying a Hail Mary never fails to calm and center me.

22. Some teachers are better than others, but they all make a difference.

23. Writing a dissertation is hard. But worth it.

24. Hearing the first three chords of your favorite song played live rivals that feeling of the final bell on the last day of school.

25. Boat rides on small lakes are best with loud country music and hot, hot sun.

26. I will pick the bathroom towel up off the floor 5 times today.

27. Someday that History Ph.D. will come in handy.

28. You will never get this time back, so spend it wisely.

29. The fastest way to get me to do something is to tell me I can't.

30. Say "yes" as often as you say "no" to your children.

31. Messes make me crazy.

32. Marrying Rick was the best decision I've ever made.

33. It is OK to ask for help once in a while.

34. Making meals for others is a form of ministry.

35. A dance party with little kids will make a bad day better.

36. There is a fine art to knowing when to lend a hand and when to leave someone alone.

37. The smell of a newborn baby is like smelling heaven.

38. Being a part of a big family is a blessing.

39. Respecting differences in others will expand your life in untold ways.

40. When all else fails, go with the hug.

WHOOOOOOOOOOOOSH.

2011-03-24T12:04:00.000-07:00

That's the sound of the past week zipping by me. Spring break is not really a break, at least for me. I've had hardly two seconds in a row to sit down and get through email and upload photos.

Last Friday was Nora's ballet recital. A few weeks ago was Clara's trophy ceremony for basketball.

Nora was really excited about the recital. The dance was pretty simple, and in all honesty, I'd like to see her move to a different dance situation next year. But, I am very proud of how far she's come from that first dance class where I had to sit with Clara who was almost 2 and force Nora onto the floor with the class, while she (nora) cried and screamed. Let's celebrate life's small victories, shall we?

Clara, well, for her, the whole basketball thing lost some of its lustre the second time around. She still participated and followed the instructions, in true Clara fashion, but there was less excitement this time around.

Otherwise, this week has been about getting through sickness for Nora, getting through break for Mommy and Clara, who has enjoyed one of two play dates already, and getting ready to go out of town again for Daddy.

As for me, I'm ready to get some work done. Of course, all the deadlines I've been putting off are coming back to bite me in the behind and they're all bunching up next week. That's just the way it goes, I guess. No rest for the weary Moms of the world. Don't blink or a week goes by. Geez. Where does the time go?

Three things to be happy about

2011-03-17T10:50:00.000-07:00

1. It's over 60 degrees.

2. "Ruby, Don't take your love to town," covered by Cake.

3. Coming home and finding this on the white table.

Rage and Gratitude

2011-03-14T17:51:00.000-07:00

So, this morning I was roused awake by a half naked Clara standing at the foot of my bed explaining that she peed on the floor when she tried to change her pull up. Not my favorite way to wake up. I've been worried about Clara lately for so many reasons, one of which is her complete unwillingness to get a grip on the pee situation. She could if she wanted, she just doesn't want to. It makes me really tired. I believe that for her it is a control thing. She is a little obsessive compulsive about things and does not like to be told no or not be given the time or chance to do something the way she wants it done. For example, her socks. They have to be pulled on. Tightly. I mean all the way up to the knee without so much as a wrinkle or seam out of place. Then, you have to roll the pants down over the sock, in a very specific way so that it doesn't mess up the tightness of the sock and cause (GOD FORBID!) "strings" which is her word for wrinkles. This sock putting on, which for an average child of almost 5 would take probably 30 seconds takes Clara several minutes. She is meticulous about it and it is always in the last minutes before we need to be out of the house for a lesson or to pick up Nora. It makes me tired. Then, there is the rage. Hers, not mine. If you try to pull her socks up in a haphazard way or force her out of the house without the chosen bag full of miscellaneous items that she has to have or make her wear shoes that don't click or comb her hair the wrong way, or worse yet, force her to transition activities without sufficient warning....THE RAGE. The screaming, stomping, slamming doors, slapping, screaming and yelling that comes out of that small person is awe inspiring. And, it makes me tired. So, I've been worried about problem solving and wondering if I should consult yet another book about the pee issue or the rage, or maybe the OCD. But, honestly? I'm kind of tired.

Well, anyway, last week Rick painted the shelves in the girls' bedroom and a bunch of books became displaced. As I went through them, I found this journal I started for Nora when she was a baby and tucked inside? This note:

A note written to me at my baby shower for Nora. It was the reassurance I needed that this, too, shall pass. That, I as Clara's Mom will figure out what she needs and make sure she gets it (even if it makes me tired), and that the books don't always know. Each child is her own person. Clara is definitely her own person. Even though this note was written with regard to Nora, I like to think it was someone's way of telling me everything will be OK, and that I'm doing a decent job here. I am grateful for that. For Sara tasking people with writing these notes and for Grandma writing this message to me. I hear it.

They say that if you're in a room with a bunch of people and everyone throws their problems into the middle that you'd pick your own out. I guess it's true, because as frustrating as this pee and rage issue is, I wouldn't give them up for anything because they're attached to Clara.

I spent one day of the weekend scrapbooking with friends and finally finished the layout for week 6 of my class. It includes 26 photos cut to 2.5 inches square. There are photos of all sorts of people on here. A few really strike me. One is the one of my cousins and sisters and I on Easter, circa 1980. Emily is holding baby Kate's hand. It is such a touching gesture, one I'm sure neither of them remember, but to me it says so much. It says that from an early age we were all taught to look out for each other, to love and to hold on to one another. Another is my Great-Grandpa Streacker on a motorcycle, circa 1980. He looks onry, and fun and reminds me of Grandma Schlater. Another is my Dad, around age 8 or 9, with his birthday cake. My whole life people have told me "You look just like your Dad." As a young girl, that can be somewhat mortifying, but now, looking at this photo, I see a bit of Nora and am so grateful for the resemblance and the connection over time. My Popo in front of his trees. Sigh. That just takes me back to being a little girl and being so happy when he would let me "help" him with the trees. My happy place. Rick and I on our honeymoon, having lunch after touring an old plantation. The excitement and happiness that we felt starting our lives together. The time we had to just be together. So grateful for that.

I was a little worried about "wasting" all these photos on one single layout, because in them are so many stories to tell, but the thing I love about it is the mish-mash of photos, time, people, places and that they all tell my story. I can pluck single photos out, reprint and explicate them elsewhere, but for now, I'm going to enjoy the whole lot of them together. And be grateful.

Do over.

2011-03-09T19:02:00.001-08:00

Today is Ash Wednesday. We planned to go to church, the 7am service, to get ashes before school and work. Clara was really interested in this ashes thing and asked Rick, "What do the ashes look like?" He replied, "Well, sort of like dirt." She exclaimed, "Mom wants to go to church to get dirt!?"

She can be so funny. And she can be so challenging. I guess, given that and my upcoming birthday I'm a little focused on the concept of the do over. There really aren't any do overs, but, man, some days I could really use one.

I've been plugging away at my layouts for the Yesterday and Today class. This one is from week 7. I'm picking through the weeks, doing the layouts that I have stories to tell and photos to match. And, I finally figured out how to stitch together scans on the new scanner. Yay.

Nora

2011-03-09T10:54:00.001-08:00

Nora

Who is cute, funny, and smart

Who is sister of Clara

Who loves dogs, riding bikes, ice cream, Grace and Evie

Who feels playful, friendly, and active

Who needs clothes, shoes, money, new toys, and movies

Who fears robbers, strangers, and scary things

Who would like to see The Statue of Liberty

Who shares toys and seats

Who is smart with manners

Who is resident of Chicago

Nora

Just found this poem Nora wrote in first grade. Thought I'd share it, so I won't forget it.

Fraught

2011-03-08T16:18:00.001-08:00

It seems as though so many things these days are fraught.

With tension. With emotion. With anxiety. With fear. With anger. With sadness. With bitterness. With loss.

In times like these I hold tightly to the moments that go well. I notice them more. The quiet times spent reading books before bed. When moments like this take place, I find myself stopping. Taking a deep breath, giving thanks and soaking it in. For that I am grateful.

Sometimes I wonder if I create the fraught-ness. Is that even a word? I attach meaning to things that in and of themselves have no true meaning. For example, the bins and bins holding my dissertation books. These books are just that. Books. The only meaning they hold for me is the sweat, pain, and literal tears I spent reading them, writing in them, taking notes, and turning them into my dissertation. This July it will be three years since I defended. I've decided to unload the books, give them to Goodwill and be done with it. But, there is this sadness attached to it, this momentous-ness. The fear. What has the Ph.D. done for me lately? Was it a mistake? In the depths of my heart I know it wasn't, but this is what I'm talking about. The moment is fraught for me. Anxiety, fear, sadness, letting go. It is time to let go. I know that. But, still.

Last night I got out the bag of papers from Nora's year in first grade, to begin scanning and preparing her 1st grade digital album. Mrs. Booczko. What a teacher! We'll never have another like her, I'm guessing. (Unless Clara is lucky enough to get her in 1st grade!) Looking at all of the work Nora did, her handwriting...The drawings. The math. How she has progressed. I can see in these papers how invested Nora was in working hard for her teacher. I sat with Nora doing her homework this afternoon and she slapped down her answers in the sloppiest handwriting that never would have flied with Mrs. B. I said to her, "You know, your handwriting was much better last year, in first grade." Her answer: "Mom, I just want to get this done." In a way, it makes me a little sad that she doesn't care as much. But, I also see her point. The amount of homework she has is ridiculous. It's not that her current teacher, Ms. Allingham, is a bad teacher or anything. She's fine. She's just no Mrs. Booczko. Going through all the work from 1st grade has made that even clearer for me. I find myself choking up looking at the stick figure drawings and thinking to myself, we'll never get that year back again. However, this year, even with the increased homework amount, it has gotten easier from a personality standpoint. Nora just does it without much comment on most nights. For that, I am truly grateful. Change over time, I guess. That's the whole point of life, isn't it?

I can really see a change in Nora's personality. She is maturing. She's calmer, most days. Less apt to freak out (unlike the other two females in her family). Clara holds more tightly to my emotional state. If I'm feeling fragile, emotional, stressed out, she exhibits that for me. Slamming doors, stomping her feet. Screaming about the injustice of any given moment. Some days, it's like looking in a scary, trick mirror. Other days, it's just irritating. And exhausting. My friend Dawn has always said that your child at age 4 is your child as a teenager. That concept sends chills down my spine.

Today I finished scanning the letters between my grandparents from January 1943. Talk about fraught with emotion. Sometimes I can't bring myself to do the work. To think about the lives that are gone now. Over. All I can do is remind myself that a life well lived is a gift, and attempt to live my best life. Two of my favorite things about these letters are the absolute open affection shown between two young people living in a truly scary time of war and uncertainty and take from them the faith to love others and live each day to its fullest.

Sometimes I'd like to turn off the emotion, the sensitivity to things around me, the need I feel to record and preserve and document. But, then where would I be? Because, really, if I didn't observe things and feel the need to document them, would I have made the connection between the fact that someone else turns 40 this month? Besides me, that is?

I'll take the days fraught with emotion, anxiety, yelling, laughing, screaming, whining and loving as long as they come with a Venti Iced latte or a nice hot caramel macchiato. Happy 40th birthday to Starbucks. And me. I've learned a few things in my my 40 years. One thing is for sure. There is no reason to drink bad coffee. There is every reason to drink good coffee. Especially if it makes you really, really, insanely, and absolutely happy.

The meaning of a life

2011-02-26T11:03:00.000-08:00

Today my Grandma Schlater turns 89. Day in and day out, I think of her. I find myself talking to her past self - a young woman, a new mother, a housekeeper. As I go through my daily chores grumbling to myself, I often wonder how on earth she held it together with six children and a husband who worked crazy hours. I'm sure she had days where she'd rather just chuck it, put her feet up and have a beer. God knows I do. I'm sure she had days where she bitched and complained and yelled at the people around her. (I never saw it, but I'm sure it happened).

I often hear myself say something or notice a mannerism in myself that directly reminds me of Grandma. I guess it's the Streacker in me. The constant need to be doing something, whether it be cooking or baking or folding laundry. The inability to let a mess sit somewhere, the need to have control over a situation, the unspeakable urge to pick up the nearest baby and feed it a bottle.

A lot of times, I feel like she is already gone. Those are the times when I hold on harder to the memories of her that I do have. The gratitude I feel for having grown up in the same town as all four of my grandparents. The quiet ways in which Grandma taught me how to live. To be there for your family and friends. To lend a hand whenever needed. To hug a child, rock a baby. The little things she did to show love.

When Luke was born, he was in the hospital for about five weeks. It was summertime, and my sisters and I moved in with Grandma and Grandpa. While I'm sure this wasn't exactly the way she planned to spend her summer, with a 10, 8, and 5 year old underfoot, she seemed to roll with it. To embrace it. However, she did not tolerate any shenanigans. She expected you to help out when she asked you to. She was also always there to listen when you had a question, or a problem.

That was the first summer I remember hearing about the fire on the farm where she grew up. About how, during WWII, she and her friends would draw lines up the backs of their legs to make it look like they had on stockings, because they were simply unavailable. How, during the 1930s they would have men live at their house and work on the farm. Where she told me that her Dad would have a shot of whiskey every night before bed. About how, on her wedding day, the neighbors all got together and cooked all the food for the reception held in the barn. About how her wedding was at 8am, but the party went on all day and into the night.

When Rick and I got married, I decided not to change my last name to Lumsden. For a variety of reasons, but, mainly because I wanted my Ph.D. diploma to say Angela Marie Schlater on it. And it does. So many people I knew just couldn't wrap their heads around the fact that I kept my name. They had no idea how to address a letter to me. I'm positive that this fact came as a surprise to Grandma. But, what did she do? She asked, "Now, when I send you letters, how should I address them?" And, until her Alzheimer's got really bad, she continued to address letters to me and to Rick, the way I explained it. She accepted the fact that we were married and had different names.

I live with all of Grandma's words and photos. In my house. I work on scanning them and putting them in order for the family. 89 years is a long time. But, it's also a blink. As cliche as it sounds, life goes by so quickly. Most of the people in the photos I look at are gone now. What does it all mean?

I can tell you what I've learned from her and what her life means to me. I've learned that life is nothing more than a series of choices, moments, and opportunities to connect with those around you. Life is working hard and playing hard. Life is finding humor in a tough situation. Life is visiting, finding nobody home and leaving a pile of patio furniture in front of their door. Life is supporting those in need. Life is a cold beer and a shot of whiskey at the end of a day. Life is arm squeezing and back slapping. Life is making the most of the opportunities given to you. Life is a celebration. Life is embracing the people around you. Life is having faith as your core and making choices that reflect that.

What I know, and wish I could tell Grandma now is that every hug, conversation, meal, drink, souvenir, holiday, phone call and letter made an impact on me. I took those expressions of love, and wrap myself up in them on my bad days. I draw from the lessons and try my hardest to apply them to my life, pass them on to my children. And, it is through my girls that Grandma (and Grandpa) will go on. Every joke, back slap, story about Ohio, hug, and quiet moment of listening reflects backwards to my Grandparents and forwards to Nora and Clara. The girls will take those moments and lessons with them into the world. Faith, values, humor, and love. I cannot always remember this on a day to day basis, but it's there. It makes the days I do remember it even sweeter.

I think a lot about how she was often the person behind the scenes. I especially think about this looking at the photos of my Dad and Aunts and Uncles as children. Grandma is hardly in any of them. Typical of mothers. But, I can guarantee she was the one behind the photo. The dozens of shots of small children holding giant birthday cakes, riding bicycles, celebrating First Communions and graduations. Photos of babies --- galore. As Janice said in the acceptance speech at Lehman's Hall of Fame last fall, "Mom was in the background, but was his advisor, his support, the real key to his success, his love. There is no honor for Dad that does not also honor Mom." That's the truth. There is not one life that she touched, that does not reflect in some way her wit, humor, grace, strength and love.

And, so today, I wish you, my sweet Grandma, a Happy 89th birthday. If I were there, I'd give you a big kiss on the lips. Thank you for all of your years of love.

Conversation

2011-02-21T06:53:00.000-08:00

Mom: So, do you know what you want to be when you grow up?

Clara: A ballerina and a rock star.

Mom: How will that work? Which days will you be a ballerina?

Clara: I think Tuesdays and Fridays I will teach the children.

Mom: Oh, you're going to be a ballet teacher, like Ms. Lowe? (Clara's instructor)

Clara: Yep.

Mom: So, then, what about the rock star thing?

Clara: Um, Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Mom: What about the other days of the week?

Clara: I'll probably need to rest. You know, I'll be tired from the music.

You can't make this stuff up!

Weekend Update

2011-02-21T06:39:00.000-08:00

The Old 97s show was truly great. It's always frustrating to go see a show at my age, because the main act never starts before 10pm, and I'm tired by then. But, it is the Old 97s, so I rallied. Mostly, they played songs from The Grand Theatre, vol. 1. But they threw in a few oldies, like Barrier Reef, and they ended the entire show with Time Bomb. My ears are still ringing. With love.

In other news, I'm about 1/3 of the way through the list of books for the 2011 Tournament of Books.

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, by Aimee Bender ***
Nox, by Anne Carson ***
Bad Marie, by Marcy Dermansky
Room, by Emma Donoghue
A Visit From the Goon Squad, by Jennifer Egan
Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen ***
Lord of Misrule, by Jaimy Gordon
Bloodroot, by Amy Greene ***
Next, by James Hynes
The Finkler Question, by Howard Jacobson ***
Skippy Dies, by Paul Murray
Model Home, by Eric Puchner
So Much for That, by Lionel Shriver
Super Sad True Love Story, by Gary Shteyngart
Kapitoil, by Teddy Wayne
Savages, by Don Winslow

Of the ones I've read (marked with ***), I've noticed a few trends. All of the stories deal with flawed humanity. Most of the writers chose unconventional storytelling techniques, such as chapters written in the voices of varying characters, or moving back and forth through time. Both techniques allow the reader to gain insight into the characters lives and motivations for their behavior. I'm currently reading, A Visit from the Goon Squad, and so far, it holds with the varying character perspective chapters and moving back and forth through time.

Just to break things up a little, last week, I broke from the list and read The Pioneer Woman's love story, From Black Heels to Tractor Wheels. She's the blogger who now makes a living from her blog and cottage industry of cookbooks and memoirs. The book was fun, and stuck with me. I love that about a good book.

One more day....

2011-02-18T16:15:00.000-08:00

I think I've convinced Clara that St.Ignatius is just as good, if not better than Big Brown Eyes. She just told me she now has three favorites, St. Ignatius, Big Brown Eyes and Doreen.

In a little over 24 hours, I'll be with my boys from Texas. They (as am I) are much older than when this video was filmed. I heard them say on a live album that St. Ignatius is the first song from their first album. Looks like the early to mid-1990s to me. I love it! And, I truly cannot wait until tomorrow!!

Allison Deanna-Marie

2011-02-14T10:08:00.001-08:00

I will never forget the day you were born. Valentine's Day, 1995. I was at work, here in Chicago. I knew your Mom was in labor and because it was the middle of the week, I was stuck here. Waiting for phone calls from Papaw (he wasn't even known as Papaw yet!) and Aunt Sara. I had meetings all day. Then, I got the call. "She's here!" Allison Deanna-Marie. One name for each sister. There's a bit of each of us in you, I can see it.

As soon as possible that next weekend I left for Sidney. You and your Mom just got home from the hospital. I'd never seen a baby with so much hair, or so many chins. I couldn't get enough of you. Aunt Sara and I actually came to blows (more than once) over who got to hold you and babysit you. I loved your heart shaped nostrils and your grunting noises. The first of many babies to come. The trailblazer, teaching and re-teaching us all about love and childhood and innocence and every single Disney Princess.

I always found it annoying when adults would say things like, "My, aren't you grown up?" Or, "Wow, I can't believe you're 16 already!" I'd secretly groan inside and roll my eyes and look for the quickest way to exit the room. So, I will refrain from all those cliches and say that it has been a total joy watching you grow up.

Dearest Allison, life is nothing but layers of time wrapped around a person. Soak up your life, all of it. Take time to revel in being the big sister that you always wanted to be. Make and keep great friends. Stand tall for what you believe and those you love. Invest time in people and activities that make you happy. Let everything else go. Wrap those layers of time and memories and love around yourself and always know that you are special, chosen, and loved beyond measure.

Happy of happiest birthdays, my first niece! I love you.

She's my Genevieve....

2011-02-10T18:19:00.000-08:00

So, I have this niece. Her name is Genevieve Helene. Today is her birthday. She's 8. I remember when she was born. Of course. I remember during her toddlerhood, I nicknamed her "beepers."

The thing about Evie is this: she is SO much her own person in so many ways. She toots her own horn. She has an older sister, but she doesn't just roll with what Grace does. For example, last summer, we spent significant time at the lake, and invited both girls to sleepover. Grace wasn't too sure. Eve? All. Over. It. As a result, my girls got some one on one time with Eve. She's got this innate ability to connect with people. One on one. Clara is very much like Eve. Both girls connect with people easily. They also easily frustrate people. I think this comes from their ability to get in there and connect. Evie just lets it all hang out. It's a beautiful thing.

Something else about Evie is her technological ability. She's been able to operate a DVD player since she was two. Sometimes, if my parents can't figure out the tv or dvd player at the Lake, they'll call Eve. She knows how it works. I've seen her check the news on Yahoo on an iPod Touch, Zip to the Webkinz site, and google anything. It's both impressive and a little frightening. She knows what she wants, and she goes and gets it.

There's something else. When Evie smiles I see my Grandpa Weigandt. This is probably my favorite thing about Evie. Not only is she one half of my daughter's favorite twosome, known as Grevie at our house, she also reminds me, every time I see her how we are all connected through time and blood and personality and love. When she smiles, and speaks and makes a joke and always, always, always, always with her orneriness she reminds me of Popo. I take a minute and think about him, who never knew Evie, or Grace, or Nora, and know that he's up there somewhere grinning and wishing Eve the happiest of happy birthdays.

So, Sweet Genevieve--Beeper Leepers, Happy Birthday! I cannot wait to see you and hug you and smack your back! And most of all spend some time this summer fishing, and swimming and eating burgers the size of our heads at the Tilton Hilton. I hope your every birthday wish comes true --

Love you!

Spanish Pipedream

2011-02-05T18:29:00.000-08:00

Last week's assignment for my Yesterday & Today class was to do a layout without photos. As you may be aware, there was a blizzard here. Also, Rick was out of town. So, I've been busy. But, this assignment has been in the back of my mind. Stewing. As things tend to do in my life. Unless it is a crisis situation, for example, someone pees their pants or it's dinner time, or time for bed. Unless it's a crisis, things stew.

You get the point.

Anyway. Essentially, a scrapbook layout without a photo is a journal page. Right? I mean, really, what would I write about?

So. The week moved on. Several things occurred to me. Aside from the obvious. You know, the blizzard.

Let me mention a couple of things. I grew up in a house with young parents. Especially relative to my parental age. I was 31 when I had Nora. My Mom and Dad were 22 when they had me. As a result, they were young parents. In my mind, anyway. They were also people to whom music was important. At least it seemed that way to me. I remember my Mom playing music all the time. In the house I grew up in there was a huge HUGE trunk in the sun room. It was FULL of LP albums. One of my favorites was the Roberta Flack album that looked like a grand piano, and you opened the flap of the grand piano and it revealed the names of the songs. I also remember one year for Christmas, my Mom received a Crystal Gayle album. I was mesmerized by the length of her hair and for years those songs reminded me of Christmas. Also, one year we received the Village People album. It must have been 1979 or 1980 because there was a song on that LP called "In the 80s" and we would make up dances with our babysitters/my dad's cousins.

The point is...music was a part of my life. Always. From a young age. It was always there. That early memory of being mortified at the playing of the Rolling Stone's Song, "Angie" when my parents friends came over. That was from Goat's Head Soup, which released in 1973. I was 2. Music and memory, early on.

As I've grown into adulthood I've met people who are interested and invested in music and some for whom it's not a part of their lives in an integral way. I feel a little sad for those people. I think maybe they're missing out on something. But, then again, maybe watching sports brings them the same happiness that listening to music brings me. Or so, Rick argues. I can't see it.

So. Back to the class and the layout that I envision in my head. It has to do with John Prine's song, Spanish Pipedream. At some point, my Dad acquired the John Prine album, the one with John Prine sitting on the haystacks. It was the early 80s... I was roughly 9 or 10. Which means Sara was 7 or 8. The two of us L.O.V.E.D. that album. Especially Spanish Pipedream. This was right about the time that Luke was born, the new room addition was built and the speakers to the stereo were wired to the basement. Sara and I learned to operate the stereo, where you could stack several LPs and play music for hours. Our favorite thing was to put all the Christmas albums on, in about August, and listen to Christmas music and play Barbies. Or, we would put on Charlie Daniel's Band, the Devil Went Down to Georgia, and act out the story in front of the Buck Stove. But, I digress. Back to Spanish Pipedream.

I've grown up with a love and appreciation and truly, a need for music in my life. I also chose as my life partner someone who loves music. I remember when we merged households we had a lot of duplicate CDs. Probably close to 100. But, I could be exaggerating. Anyway, Rick and I have always bonded over music. Our first "date" was a Jayhawks concert. Well, that was one of them, anyway.

Early in our dating relationship, circa 1998, Rick introduced me to the Old 97s. So, they've been with me as long as Rick has. I think for that reason they hold a place dear to my heart. I associate their songs with falling in love and being a young person and forging a new life. It was the block party a few years ago when I was playing a mix of songs featuring them that my neighbor said, "I love Rhett Miller." I asked who he was, and she said, "you know, the Old 97s singer. You should see him live. He's great." Fast forward to now and I've seen them several times and am officially and completely obsessed. As a result, whenever I have the chance, I play them in the car. At home. Cooking dinner. Working out. And so, every person in our family has their favorite Old 97s song. Mine: St. Ignatius, from Hitchhike to Rhome. (Which Nora calls St. Augustine.) Rick's: varies between Barrier Reef, Victoria and one other. Nora: Doreen. She doesn't care which version. Clara: Big Brown Eyes. The original, not the live version. She wants to hear it, constantly. All the time. Especially the beginning chords. It thrills her. She gets a big, goofy, almost embarrassed grin on her face. She does not like it if you watch her sing the words, but she knows almost all of them. "Restring all your guitars, pack up all your stuff. If Robert's Dad is right, we might not make it through the night." She knows even the inappropriate words, about the pills, etc. Which, began my worry and concern that I was corrupting her unnecessarily. This brought me back to Spanish Pipedream. I was older than Clara, but not much. A few years. I spent hours on the porch at 885 Crescent Drive singing about that level headed dancer on her way to alcohol. It didn't really cause me much trouble later in life. What it did do was give me a cultural reference for John Prine, a recognition for that music that has made me friends and comforted me in many ways throughout the years. John Kogge and the Lonesome Strangers in Oxford, Ohio come to mind.

So, I will continue to expose my children to songs that are outside of the realm of their life experience. They will learn and love songs by the Old 97s, Sugarland, John Prine, The Jayhawks, Indigo Girls, Amos Lee, The Weepies, the Avett Brothers. I'll throw in some Taylor Swift, Carrie Underwood, hip-hop. Whoever I am listening to that I love. The thing these girls are going to carry through their lives is not the context of the lyrics, but the sensory memory of the songs. The memory of seeing their Mom and Dad LOVE music and songs and be excited about bands, and hearing music and having that favorite song. The point is...music is a part of our lives and seeing that four year old face in my rearview mirror singing "Big Brown Eyes" has solidified it for me, and brought me full circle. As children are apt to do.

So, in closing I offer you two clips from you tube. The Old 97s from 2007, singing Clara's favorite song. And, in lieu of John Prine's version of Spanish Pipedream, I give you the Avett Brothers. That magical little group of harmonical men. It's almost better than the original.

And. Don't forget...Restring all your guitars. Pack up all your stuff. Blow up your Tv. Throw away your papers. Move to the country. Build you a home. Have a lot of children. Feed 'em on peaches. Find Jesus on your own.

Blizzard 2011

2011-02-03T15:44:00.000-08:00

As I'm sure you've heard on the news, the people of Chicago are a hearty bunch. Snow doesn't really rattle us. It slows us down, sure, but it doesn't cause the city to stop in its tracks. Normally. I worked at a job outside of the home for 14 years. We never had a day off work due to weather. They let us go home early on September 11, 2001, but aside from that...business as usual. Chicago Public Schools has had ONE day off in the past twelve years due to weather, and that was in 1999 when we got 19 inches of snow. This week, we had two days off. In a row. Unprecedented and I'm hoping Nora is old enough to remember, because it is unlikely to happen again in her school career.

The thing about living in a city is that there are a lot of people. I know that sounds silly and obvious, but it's true. There are a lot of people living and working in close proximity. In order for them all to get to and from where they need to be on any given day it involves hundreds of miles of roads and railroad tracks, and requires that all of it runs smoothly. When something like 60 MPH winds combines with 2 inches of snow per hour, and a couple of traffic accidents the result is hundreds of people trapped, in their cars, on Lake Shore Drive. Inconceivable. Yet true.

I am the exception to most Chicagoans. I consider myself hearty enough, but snow makes me cranky and crabby and I really don't like it all that much. It just makes everything harder, and living in a city is hard enough, on a dry, warm day. Add to that several feet of snow and the inability to leave your garage and you get a really, insanely crabby Angie. I always need to wallow in self pity a while before emerging, looking to solve the problem.

But, here's the thing about Chicago. We are a city of neighborhoods and neighbors. Nothing, except maybe a block party, brings us together more than a weather event. It gets people outside to compare and contrast their situations. People pitch in and shovel your walk or the path to your garage. Snowblowers are shared by dozens of households, to clear the way. It's not a "This is my snowblower, and too bad for you that you don't have a snowblower" situation." The truth of the matter is, if the alleys don't get cleared, nobody gets out. The beauty (or mess) of city living. We all depend on one another to make it work. And, again, there's nothing like a good two feet of snow to level the playing ground and make us all realize we're in the same boat.

This week I was the recipient of some good neighbor love. Shoveling and clearing the sidewalks and alleys, while Rick was out of town. I look forward to the day I can reciprocate. Or even better, send Rick in my stead! Until then, I will try to admire the view of the snow mountains, igloos, and other people's lawn furniture littering the street.

I hate to state the obvious, but...this is one for the record books. And, I survived.

My trophy and me

2011-01-26T09:52:00.000-08:00

As grown adults there are few times in our daily lives where we are congratulated for things. Especially when your primary responsibility is that of being a mom and housewife. Nobody pats us on the back and says, "Wow, great job folding those towels. Look at the precision with which you put them into the closet!" Most of the time we go entire days without any acknowledgment on the work we've done, let alone congratulations for having done it. And, that's ok. It also makes those times when Nora says, "Thank you Mom for working so hard on this delicious dinner" so much better. Acknowledgment. Recognition. Congratulations. Who doesn't like to hear that they did a great job at something? I have so few opportunities for this in my life. I mean, I'm a pretty good cook. I take a decent photo. I make a great scrapbook layout. Even then, people are hardly effusive in their praise and congratulations. Most of the time, I'm just here, doing housework, getting by, living life.

It is a challenge on many days to see the point. Why bother? Nobody else cares if the beds are made, so why do it? We could have grilled cheese every night and everyone else would be totally happy. I'm in the midst of reading several books on the litany of housework and nurturing and recognizing the importance of providing a safe, comfortable atmosphere for family members. How this directly relates to living a Christian life. It helps me realize that on some level, what I do is important. But, that's not why I'm writing. Today, I want to celebrate the trophies of life. The little things that make our hearts smile, or "fill our buckets," as Clara would say. Especially the one that appears on my watch every week.

Given the solitary nature of my days, I sometimes feel isolated, misunderstood and under-appreciated. I've pretty much always been this way. I always feel like nobody else understands my life. But, if I'm being totally honest, I don't really like the attention that a hearty pat on the back, or a "GREAT JOB!" brings. I don't really want the recognition. Being the center of attention doesn't really thrill me. It actually makes me cringe a little. It's like when, in the early 70s my parents would play "Angie" by the Rolling Stones. I remember hiding behind the chair, mortified by the fact someone was singing my name. I guess I'd rather do my jobs, live my life with a lower level of appreciation, a "great dinner, Mom" or "thanks for putting my pajamas away" every now and then.

However.

My watch and my trophy make me really happy. It is truly wonderful to receive a trophy each and every week on my watch. As long as I put in the time, in the correct zones, I get the trophy. For the past 4 weeks, I've managed roughly 4 hours of cardio per week. My goal is only 3 hours and 20 minutes, but it is a true challenge to keep myself in Zone 2, so I typically end up closer to 4 hours. In the beginning, it made me really tired. I'm getting used to it - getting fitter, which is one of the points. On those days I might not feel like going to the gym, the trophy is there to remind me that it is worth it.

I love waking up on Mondays, hitting the envelope on my watch and seeing the message "Target achieved...Excellent!" and then, the trophy appears. It feels terrific to set and meet a goal each and every week. It brings me great joy every day to get the gym, put on my watch and see my trophy, knowing that I have worked hard to achieve it and that I'm doing it ALL for myself. Nobody else has anything to do with it. It's just for me. My own little pat on the back. My own little "great job!"

Mondays

2011-01-25T07:34:00.000-08:00

Mondays mean Clara Mommy day. Swimming Lessons. Exercise. Laundry. Errands. Chores. Quiet Reading. Homework.

The Gym. I love this place. When I enter, I can physically feel my blood pressure drop in anticipation of at least 45 minutes to myself. It is honestly one of my top five favorite places to be. I just love it, love it, love it. Clara loves to go for her swimming on mondays, too. I normally work out after her lesson, but decided to give myself a day off yesterday. The blood pressure lowering was still in effect.

In front of the rack of swimming suits, after her lesson.

Clara in the cart at the big Dominick's. Another in my top five favorite places to visit. No matter how hard I try not to, I always end up at Dominicks at least three times a week. I just find excuses to visit. It's almost like going on vacation.

Again, Mt. Laundry. Every Monday (and thursday).

I've enrolled Nora in a laundry training program. Right now she is learning to take the dry clothes from the dryer, then transfer the wet clothes to the dryer and put the dryer on the correct setting. Then, she carries the basket upstairs. By the time she's 10 she should be able to do the laundry completely on her own. I am running the program, and Clara may be in it by next year, or whenever she can reach the wet clothes. Whichever comes first.

Homework. Every night, but friday.

In order to promote peace and quiet during homework, Clara gets to watch Sesame Street.

We are getting close...to Spring. The Tulips are back!

What I love about photos

2011-01-20T08:40:00.000-08:00

I love nothing more than capturing a great moment with my camera. I love getting fresh prints back from Costco. Crystal clear smiling faces, in color. I've moved on from black and white. When I was in college, the mark of a truly great photo was when I put it in a frame. That meant it was loved. Then, the next mark of a great photo was when I converted it to black and white, and then framed it. Some images are still best in black and white, but more often than not I prefer my images in color.

It's also interesting to me how an image of the girls will be current. I'll look at it constantly for about a year, then put it away. When I bring it back out, I'm always astounded at the details of their little faces that have changed. The thinning, and losing of their babyness. I didn't get the iconic photo of 2010. It just didn't happen for me. I still have a beach photo from 2009 as my computer wallpaper. I realize to most people, this is not an issue. Nobody else probably spends as much time thinking about photos as I do, but, that's ok. It's my job in some ways, and it's my passion in every other way.

When my friend Krista took our photos in November, it was cold and the girls were not in the mood. I wanted things a certain way, and Clara wanted them hers. So, she wore her fuzzy pink gloves and brown hat. She squatted during the photo and grinned. At first, I was disappointed, but I printed and framed it and now have come to love it. It really demonstrates the dynamic of our family at the moment. Clara is the animation around which we pretty much revolve right now. And so it goes.

Yesterday and Today, week 3

2011-01-18T09:41:00.001-08:00

This week's assignment is a layout featuring 6 memories from childhood.

I had a hard time deciding which 6, so I dug through my tub of old photos. I only have a small number of photos. Most are still at my Mom's house. But, I decided to let the photos dictate the memories.

Here are a few I chose.

Me and my sisters. 885 Crescent Drive. The house I grew up in. I can still smell Buck Stove, how the carpet smelled when you layed on it face down, killing time. Goofing off in our Underoos, in hula skirts brought back from Hawaii for us (probably by Grandma Schlater). My broken arm (another story altogether). I remember distinctly standing in that dining room, crying because I didn't want to grow up.

At my Graduation from Miami, with my Grandmas. When I found this photo I also found two pages of a letter I'd written to Nora when she was a baby, about how special my Grandmas were and my hopes for her and her relationship with her Grandmas. I'm putting that letter on the layout.

Crescent Drive friends. Christine. I remember sitting under her kitchen table and laughing hysterically about nothing at all and her Mom saying to us, "You two are too silly to go to kindergarten. We stayed friends all the way through high school. Spent countless hours sitting on stoops, walking to the movies and Chilly Jilly's, and going to buy pops at the gas station. The constant presence of a friend, right next door. The constant presence of a friend in the house, my sisters. What a blessing.

Christmas, 1981. Three words: Barbie Dream House.

My bedroom, 885. My rainbow canopy bed. The creepy door to the attic. Waking up scared and knowing my Dad was right down the hall. Dusting and rearranging my trinkets and stuffed animals, over and over. Fighting with Sara about which was better, the radio or the record player. Getting my own stereo, with a radio and a record player! Listening to 45 records and then saving up my money to buy LPs, Power Play by K-Tel, and Waylon Jennings.

The things that strike me the most about some of these photos are that these memories I have are the RIGHT NOW for my two girls. The meat of their childhoods. I want them to have best friends who live next door and the ability to walk down the block to get a pop and the freedom to spend hours outside sitting on the porch, building elaborate houses out of leaves and riding their bikes to nearby parks. It is extra special because now I know how I feel as a parent, and so, looking at these photos of myself as a child and teenager, I can imagine how my Mom and Dad may have felt about having three little girls and then a baby boy. The chaos. The noise. The laughter. The fights and the yelling. All of it. I love this class because it forces me to remember and remembering forces me to realize that you only have one present. Soak it up.

The here and now:

Ta Da! List

2011-01-13T18:44:00.000-08:00

This was our dinner last night. Homemade mac and cheese, kale chips (the girls LOVE them), and fresh raspberries. I love the textures and colors of the meals. I adore my placemats, too.

Sometimes, I have long, varied, or stressful days, where I sit down to read books with the girls at night and think to myself, "What in the heck just happened?" I like to write down a Ta Da list. Instead of a to do list, it's a list of what I've actually accomplished on any given day. Here it is, in my typically longwinded fashion.

1. Photo editing.

I took a new "job" yesterday, editing photo shoots for a friend of mine who is a much busier photographer than I am. She's paying me a nice hourly rate to crop and quickly edit her photos and today I got through 3 shoots for her, a little less than two and a half hours of work. My eyes are a little buggy right now, but I think it will be a nice way to make some extra money without leaving the house.

I also, FINALLY, sorted the two baskets of random tights in the girls room. There were size 2 tights in there, people. It's been a while. Now, finally, we have the correct size tights in the correct basket for each child. Heavenly. That took me about a half an hour to get through.

2. Organizing

In the guest room, there was a basket of clothes that the girls have outgrown. (It's only been there two weeks...I work in baby steps.) I had to go through it and decide what to keep for Clara, what to hand down to my nieces Anna and Mena, and what to donate. That took about 30 minutes, but I finally have a big goodwill bag, a small bit for Clara and a nice bag for Anna and Mena.

3. Baby steps to purging

We got a new flat screen TV for Christmas, so we can finally let go of the mammoth entertainment center that takes up half our living room. I photographed it and am drafting a listing for Craigslist. Let's hope that someone wants it and will come and take it away. (and pay us for it). I can already feel the space it will leave!

4. Laundry

I finished three loads of laundry, even though it was ALL done on Monday, which is technically laundry day (in homage to Grandma Schlater, who always did wash on Mondays.)

5. Reading (always a worthwhile pursuit)

I read 100 pages of my book, The Hour I First Believed, by Wally Lamb. I've had it for a long time, but just got around to reading it. The main character finds a cache of letters in his house that changes his life. I can relate. It also deals with the shootings at Columbine, which has a scary relevance to the events that took place in Arizona last weekend.

6. Researching technology

I managed to do additional research on scanners and printers and am more overwhelmed than before. So, I bought more photo paper and ink for our existing printer. The "Yesterday & Today" class requires a lot of printing at home.

If we were to look back through the week, there are even more Ta Da's!!

I can't entirely take credit for this, as Rick initiated it on Sunday, but Clara really likes to peel sweet potatoes and she helped me with this on Tuesday. Cooking makes me really happy. I love reading magazines, watching cooking shows and trying new recipes. In the last week I've started photographing the food. Sometimes the mixture of colors, textures is so visually appealing. I'm also learning to connect the sense of how something smells to how it will taste and also the catalog of which flavors work well together.

The following recipe is for a minestrone that I've been obsessed with making the past few weeks. I make a giant batch. It includes the tomatoes I canned, two boxes of chicken broth, beans, and fresh spinach at the end. There's more in it, but I don't have time to write the whole recipe down right now.

I've also finally updated our bath towels. I went with all white, hoping that I can bleach out stains, rather than having the color bleached out of them by other chemicals, as happened to our last batch. We've been married 10 years. This is our third set of towels. Average? Who knows.

But, doesn't it look great? All white and organized?

So, that's it. Ta Da!

Yesterday and Today

2011-01-06T10:45:00.000-08:00

Sara and I, circa 1981, 885 Crescent Drive.

I started taking this scrapbooking workshop, Yesterday and Today, from Big Picture Classes last week. But, I didn't really start the home work until last night. I guess I thought I knew all the answers to the assignments and so I could blow it off. I haven't been in school in 15 years and I'm falling back into my old patterns.

The tasks for this week were to brainstorm story ideas, categorize the stories into "yesterday" and "today", and review our current layouts. When reviewing, we were to list what we loved, and what we would change if we could. I knew I would love the photos and the journaling and that I'd change the fact that I am not in many layouts. The majority of photos and stories that I scrapbook relate to the girls and their development. I have three 12x12 albums dedicated to more general "family" layouts. Anything not specific to Nora or Clara, goes into these. Actually, sometimes the layouts are specific to them, but they are ones I want to keep for myself.

I plowed through the first album, scanning, perusing, and nodding in agreement with myself that I already knew the answers. I loved the old photos of the girls as babies. The lists of things I'd journalled about them. By the time I got 1/3 of the way into the second album, I was sobbing in gratitude to myself for making these albums. There is so much I've forgotten. So much I want to remember.

That emotional connection to my past, my family, things and places and people I love, that is why I scrapbook. It is oh so much more than a hobby. It is how I live. I live to observe, record, preserve, document, and celebrate. In the video presentation for this class, Ali Edwards, the instructor, said that Scrapbooking has made her life better. I completely agree. It has made me notice the small things, like the way Clara has recently begun to put dots across the top of her name. But, more than observe it, I will document it, because in a year, or even a few months, she won't do that any more. Just like, when she was a toddler, she used to swing her arms back and forth when she got excited or nervous. She doesn't do that any more. I would never have remembered that, had I not made a layout about her at age 2.

Or, how Nora adds "rocks" to drawings about herself. As in, "Nora rocks!" There is a drawing that she taped to the side of her dresser, that features a girl, and it says, "Nora Rocks!" And, then in a bubble coming from the girls' mouth, it says "Boy do I rock!" Then, this morning she decorated her name in bubble letters, because a sitter helped Clara do that on Tuesday. But, in true Nora fashion, she added "rocks!" to it.

I guess I should also take heart in the fact that, in reviewing my layouts, the "What I love" column is way longer than the "What I would change" column. Although, some of the things I'd change are biggies. For example, making sure I get into more photos and that I do a better job documenting my relationship with Rick and his with the girls, and things he loves to do.

Things I listed included lists of things I loved, old photos, journaling, enlargements, handwriting from other people, layouts about personalities. I'm including samples from a few of my favorites, layouts that feature Grandma Schlater, my Grandma Weigandt, Indian Lake, Nora's frowns...my wedding dress.

This analysis phase of the workshop was one that I planned to blow off, but sitting down with my albums, I am so happy I did it. It resonates with me, as a researcher and an academic. To be able to look at my albums as a body of work, contemplate what I like and would change, and move forward to creating a more complete picture of our lives. I never, ever, expected this class to impact me on such a deep level. It has totally and completely renewed my faith and inspiration and total contentment in what I do. I know that time spent observing, documenting, preserving...scrapbooking, is time well spent.

Taylor Slif

2011-01-05T19:26:00.000-08:00

For whatever reason, Nora cannot say Taylor Swift. The Swift always comes out as slif, or swlif or something. I hesitate to correct her.

Nora lost both of her front teeth this fall. One is slowly growing in. I'm a little sad about it.

Even without her front teeth, she manages to chow on whole apples, sandwiches, and other crunchy treats. Which reminds me of a time in high school, when I had jaw surgery and was restricted to a liquid diet. Just to torment me, my sister, Sara, would sit next to me and eat an apple whole. The crunching sound sticks with me, and nothing is worse than the sound and smell of a fresh apple being eaten when you cannot have one yourself.

Nora's go to snack when hungry is an apple and a cheese stick. Or two. It depends on the day. It could be a lot worse, I guess.

Nora does not like to let go of anything. She has strong emotional ties to her belongings, be it a pair of pants, a sweatshirt, a barbie, a doll, or a paper on which she made a drawing. She will insist that a piece of clothing still fits, just so it won't go into the Goodwill bag. Even if the sleeves are two inches too short and the pants won't buckle. Nobody can argue that she is not loyal, even to her possessions.

Nora's almost done reading the Wimpy Kid series. She's plowing through it and it has really generated an interest in reading for her, which thrills me!

Today, one of Nora's teachers commented to me that Nora is really a leader and a pleasure to have in class. She gets the other kids to do what they're supposed to be doing and also, she is not afraid to "say what she is thinking." Wonder where she got that from?

The older Clara gets, the more amazed I am at how easily Nora makes friends. Particularly because Nora is a lot more shy about new situations. Today at Ballet class she had this total bonding moment with a little girl, Eve, about her zoolios or whatever they're called. According to Nora, they are the girls version of Bakugans. Anyway, it just amazes me how fast and furious Nora's friendships develop. Nora has a way of finding common ground with a person and building upon it. Rick said she is socially gifted. I think he may be right.

The scrapbook store recently closed its doors. I bought a table for $5 and turned it into a desk for the girls. Nora is very into this idea that she has a space of her own on which to work. She is somewhat concerned that it is actually just a table, because as she pointed out to Rick, there is no storage or drawers, but she has gone to her "desk" each day after school and done her best to finish her homework by herself.

Nora loves to play Mario Kart. Even more than playing, I think she likes the fact that Clara enjoys watching her play.

Nora does not love that everyone in the family (meaning Clara) uses her iPod touch to play games.

Nora remembers almost everything. I've begun asking her about events in the past 18 months to two years, because her recall is much better than mine. Particularly when it comes to details. She is quick to remind me that last year, Mrs. Booczko told me that there would be a lot of homework in second grade. Every day when I complain about how much homework she has, she says, "But Mom, Mrs. Booczko told you this would happen."

Nora's cousins, Grace and Evie, have celebrity status in Nora's world. If you told Nora she could do anything in the world she wanted to do the next day, she would say, "Go to Grace and Eve's house." I hope she always feels that way.

In 2007 "The Rock" appeared in a Disney movie called "The Game Plan." Nora DVRd it, without my knowledge, and has proceeded to watch it at least 12 times.

If we leave the cereal boxes out on the counter for her, Nora can get up and make herself and Clara a bowl of cereal while they watch a show. It's only a matter of time before we have her serving us coffee and pastries...

Renember this

2011-01-04T19:17:00.000-08:00

Clara says "Renember" instead of "remember".

She still has trouble getting to the bathroom on time. And, often ends up with "drips" in her underwear. Which, of course means she has to go and put on new undies. Every week on laundry day she has 10 pairs of underwear for every 2 pairs of Nora's.

In order to fall asleep, she often requires a wet washcloth over her eyes. But, once applied, she is snoring almost instantly.

She loves "quiet" reading. Which involves her earphones and the Story Reader. She likes the Sesame Street books specifically.

If there is a doll in the room that has shoes on it, she must immediately remove the shoes and then separate them from the doll by at least two rooms, preferably one or two floors so that it makes it nearly impossible to remember which doll goes to which pair of shoes.

She doesn't know how to turn off the new TV.

She loves playing Mario Kart, but loves to watch Nora playing it more.

Some days she feels like wearing leggings, but there can't be any "strings" (wrinkles) visible once they're on. Other days, she really wants to wear "spread out" sweats, which are boot leg leggings or sweat pants. Some days, she wants to wear a skirt and tights, see above regarding the strings.

Every day she asks if this is the "next" day.

She can be one of the sweetest people I've ever encountered. She can also be one of the most frustrating individuals I've ever interacted with. So much personality in such a small body....

One little word: Shift

2011-01-03T16:38:00.000-08:00

Shift:
transitive verb
1. to exchange for, or replace by another
2. a: to change the place, position, or direction of
b: to make a change in (place)
intransitive verb
1. to go through a change

Noun
1. a change in place or position

For more information on the one little word concept, see Ali Edwards: .