Under the Tulip Tree

Holiday Card 2011

Every year the task is the same: Take a picture of the children, without them yelling at or beating on each other, hopefully in focus with enough light, and ideally, not in the rain. It's kind of miraculous that it ever happens at all.

There are, of course, when you look beneath the surface, more subtleties to the process. There's more to the annual holiday card photo than just getting them to look normal(ish). When I think about our family and friends who live far away, and about the ones who have only met my kids once or twice, and about the ones who have never met them at all, I try to capture just a bit of who they are when they're not in the picture. I try to capture something that tells someone something about them — their laughs, their smiles, their sense of humor - something someone can connect to. I realize that's a lot to ask from one photo but...

I can't stop trying. And I won't. Because every year we receive thoughtful Christmas cards from friends and family who live far way but who have watched my children grow up, in the same way I've watched their children grow up, through Christmas cards. And that, to me, has a particular kind of loveliness all its own.

ANY

Leafy Heart

How fitting that on the eve of Thanksgiving Day, I get to thank you all, sincerely, for your loving words of support for my sister and my family. Such amazingly generous folks you are. You have surely brightened our days. I know Alicia and Andy will come out the other side of this, it just sucks that they even have to.

I wish you a wonderful day full of thanks and love and family and friends and every other little thing that makes life what it is. Thank you for being here, and for being awesome. Happy Thanksgiving, from my family to yours.

ANY

Her Day

Arden and me, 1999

Babies can be born under the most complicated of circumstances. Sometimes relationships are strained, sometimes families are divided, sometimes life's problems are far from being solved. And the moment your baby comes into this world as her perfect, exquisite little self, you realize that this world isn't good enough for her. This world has not fixed itself enough to appreciate the extraordinary gift that is your child. In a panic, you try to make the world what you think it should be. You try to control everything you can, along with everything you can't, and you do your damndest to make life the best it can be for her. You'll be surprisingly good at reading her cues and knowing who and what she needs and when she needs it. For a little while, anyway.

As time trickles on, as it slowly and surely does, you won't even realize that your baby is starting to need you less and less. She'll stop sharing her every thought and feeling and eventually you'll be making more and more guesses about what's on her mind. The answers won't be clear and you won't know for certain what she needs and when. You'll still try your damndest to make the world what you want it to be for her but that world gets bigger and bigger and more mysterious every day.

One day you'll realize that you still haven't figured it all out and you still haven't solved all of life's problems but you've loved her just the same. Your heart will continue to be pulled in a million different places, even torn to bits, and though she certainly deserves it, you will never know what it's like to care for her in a perfect world.

One day she'll be thirteen, and you'll finally get to see the person she's been trying to be all this time. The whole time you've been trying and changing, she's been trying and changing, too. And you'll see that she's been a teenager all along. This is who she's been the whole time.

Today, I celebrate her, on her thirteenth birthday, and every single second of every single day.

ANY

And Present

My children took it easy on me this year. Not intentionally, of course, that's just the way it goes sometimes. I didn't do one thing for Arden's costume (she decorated her shirt and crocheted her hat) and all I did for Perry's was print out and sew on a Gryffindor crest. It made for a much less stressed October. Which was helpful, seeing as I'm never fully prepared for the flurries of birthdays, holidays, and activities that begin on Halloween and last through the middle of January in our family.

Of course, Alicia and Andy we'll be adding another little birthday to this time and family and I can't think of anything more welcomed. It's hard that they are in Chicago and that I won't be there for those very early, precious few days. Really hard. But I know they are taken care of there, in so many ways by so many people, and I can't think of anyone more deserving of all that love. That's all I'll say for now as it's not my story to tell and I tend to over share. But I will say that I am positively, absolutely, monumentally, most especially thrilled to be a new auntie and shower Alicia's baby with the love and care she's showered my two over the years. I really can't wait for that.

ANY

Halloweens Past

Every year on Halloween, I make yummy treats for the neighbors. Well, for our sweet, older neighbors who live on their own and are so kind and good to us. They've lived here for decades and have seen lots of families come and go. It reminds me of growing up on my old street in River Forest, and how some of our older neighbors watched us grow up, just the way these folks are watching my own kids. I appreciate that now so much more than I ever did (of course) and while I was baking, I got to thinking about Halloweens past…

ANY

— My first Halloween memory was from when I was four. I went as Little Red Riding Hood in a costume my mom made. I remember she let me wear light blue eye shadow. My sister Alicia was a gypsy and I wanted to go trick-or-treating with her and the big kids but I couldn't keep up so I cried.

— In first grade, I loved Wonder Woman. I loved Wonder Woman (because, I mean, look at her!) and that was a problem because Alicia liked The Osmond's and both shows were on at the same time on the same night. I remember fighting over that a lot. My mom made me the most excellent Wonder Woman costume, though, complete with a satin body suit, crown, stars, cape, belt, and gold cuffs. I was bummed that I had to wear knee-high brown leather boots instead of Wonder Woman's super cool red ones but I drew the line at wearing at a jacket. There was absolutely no way I was going to hide one single inch of that awesomeness. Hands down my favorite costume ever.

— At school, we dressed up in our costumes and paraded around the neighborhood with our teachers. Our neighbors would come out of their houses and watch us and wave. Our moms took pictures. Those were the good old days…

— My sisters and I used to have Halloween parties in our old, creepy, spidery, cinder block basement. We cut out little paper pumpkins and taped them to the walls. They stayed there for years and years. My dad once told me that the hardest thing he had to do when they sold our old house was take down those paper pumpkins. That makes me sad to think about.

— When I was in fifth grade, I thought I was too old to trick-or-treat. My best friend didn't think so. She walked to my house in her Jiminy Cricket costume and when I told her I didn't want to go, her excited smile turned into the most heartbreaking tears I'd ever seen. As she started to walk away without me, I felt a lead weight in my stomach. "Wait!" I yelled, and ran back inside to get the rest of my White Rabbit costume on. Needless to say, the White Rabbit and Jiminy Cricket had one of the most wonderful Halloweens of their lives.

— My family went to Amling's on North Avenue for our pumpkins and to visit the haunted house every Halloween. One year we heard about a super scary haunted house that was being held at someone's home. I decided to have a Halloween party with all of my friends and bring them to the haunted house. I remember everyone hanging on me and screaming and I only made it ten feet before I freaked out and collapsed on a couch. One of the ghouls felt really bad for me and walked me through the rest of the house by hand.

— When I was in college and way, way too old to trick-or-treat, an old friend of mine had a costume party and I went as the yodel guy from the Cliff Hangers game on the Price is Right. I remember that one of my guy friends dressed up like one of my girl friends and it made her very, very upset. I still feel bad that we all laughed very, very hard.

ANY

It's funny, the things we remember, while making Whoopie Pies, which were awesome, by the way, and tasted like Suzy-Q's only much better.

And with that, I wish you a wonderful, happy, and delightful Halloween!

ANY

Our Yearly Visit to the Flower Farm

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It's a good thing you can never be too old for the pumpkin patch. My kids towered over the babies and toddlers who were stumbling around the haystack and tripping over their chubby feet, but they were no less enthusiastic. In fact, I think Mr. P had the most fun he's ever had at the farm. And I'm glad for that because I'm not ready for our yearly visits to end.

ANY

School Schedules and How Things Change

This is the first year since my little guy was in preschool that my kids aren't going to the same school. Arden is in junior high now and Perry is still in elementary school. Arden wakes up at 7:15 am and catches the bus at 7:45 am, sometimes before Perry is even awake. I hurry her out of her bed and over to the table where she grudgingly eats a few bites of her breakfast, eyes half-closed. But then, with a jolt of energy that comes from out of nowhere, she hurries to get dressed, brush her teeth, grab her things, and bound out the door. It took some getting used to, sending her on her way, off to school, without me. Now it seems normal.

Perry wakes up, eyes wide open, hungry and ready for breakfast (eating about five times more than his sister). He's chatty and busy and excited that it's just him and me in the mornings. We go over his homework or practice his spelling words again and in about an hour, we leave for our walk to school. He holds my hand and tells me about the activities that are planned for the day. He explains how his teacher writes the daily schedule on the chalkboard. He likes that. He likes to know what to expect (as much as he likes being surprised by something unexpected on the chalkboard).

It's weird how fast the day goes. Any mom of school-aged children will tell you this. You've got tons of time yet no time at all. Before I know it, I hear the heavy engine of the school bus driving back up our hill. In a few minutes, Arden bounds back through the door, kicking off her shoes, and dropping her astronomically heavy backpack with a giant thud to the floor. She starts in with the stories she's been waiting to tell me all day. I have three funny stories for you, Mom. One you're gonna like, one you're gonna hate and one you're gonna think is hilarious. (I feel exactly the way she tells me I will. One I hate, one I like, and one I think is hilarious.) And after the quick debriefing of the day's events, it's time to get Perry.

Arden likes to walk with me to pick him up (because she's usually not done with her storytelling) and I like it, too. When we get to school and see Perry, he smiles when he sees both of us. He has a million things to tell me. Mom, I had the best day of my life today for three reasons! Can you guess what they are?! Of course I never know what they are and that's part of the fun for him; he likes to tell me things that I don't know. After a few minutes, there's a lot of interrupting and talking over the other one until I'm forced to play referee and demand we take turns.

It's a different routine from last year, and the last three years before that. We'll never have that old routine again. The kids won't be in the same school until Perry is a freshman in high school and I'm pretty positive they won't be walking to school, hand in hand. But this new schedule is good, too. They get time to be on their own. Time with their friends. Time with me. And especially some much needed time away from each other — to think in quiet.

And for me? Well, I'll just keep plugging along.

ANY