London Calling

Oh yeah, I'm a mom

A good friend of ours stopped by tonight to see if we wanted to go to a new restaurant in the neighborhood called Crust.  At the time, I’d already changed into my evening attire:  long sweat-shorts and a big pink t-shirt (London has a matching shirt) from our Mother’s Day Y-Me walk.  London was bathed, in his pj’s and ready for bed.  Barry was working out.

The restaurant opened this weekend & I’d been wanting to go.  It’s an all organic flatbread pizza/salad/wine joint with a great outdoor space. 

I thought quickly.

In the old days, when London was much more portable, we could bring him anywhere and he’d sleep in his car seat or stroller.  Maybe that would work tonight. But when I turned my head to look at the strollers – which were perched upside down on our porch to dry – I remembered that Barry had left both strollers out in the rain this afternoon.

There were no other options.  I felt like a teenager whose mother wouldn’t let her go to the party.  “Sorry,” I told Gerry.  “Can’t go.”

The reality of being a parent continues to hit me every day.  Funny, that almost a year and a half into it, I’m still getting used to parenthood.  And please don’t get me wrong.  It’s not that I was disappointed that I couldn’t go – I’m sure we’ll have a chance to get to the restaurant this weekend.  It’s that I’m always surprised when remembering that I am a parent surprises me.  It’s like I suddenly think, “Oh, yeah.  I’m a mom.  That’s right.”

God: Can I amend my latest prayer?

Today, I sent an email to my family asking for a quick prayer that the couple who was looking at our home for the second time would want to buy it.  Then I took a walk over lunch and prayed that whoever bought our house would love living there as much as we did and would appreciate all of the history and cool things about the neighborhood.

When I got home tonight, my husband gave me the May 28th issue of Crain’s Chicago Business with a cover article entitled, “Foreclosures still raging.”  After I put London to sleep, I sat down to a little dinner and read the article.  And now I need to amend my prayer.

You see, according to this article, “Cook County is on pace to record at least 30,000 and as many as 36,000 foreclosure filings this year.”  That’s 36,000 families who will – not MAY, but WILL – loose their home this year.  That’s 36,000 families who will have the “American Dream” of homeownership taken away from them; 36,000 families who will have to live with the embarrassment of foreclosure; 36,000 families who will have to tell their kids that they’re moving.  Sadly, according to the article, “97% of defaults in Chicago in 2006 involved an adjustable-rate mortgage."

So, I want to amend my prayer request.  I’m pretty sure that God will understand. 

Apple

London is a strong willed little boy of few words – so far at least.  He says dada, mama, EE-EE (Emily the dog), woof-woof (for other dogs) and once said, “oh shit” as plain as day.  In most cases, he points and speaks in a language all his own.  Lately, I’ve started to worry about his development mostly because there hasn’t been much else to worry about.  My good friend Erica, who had a similar concern with her daughter, suggested that I try encouraging him to use language more and to help him with sign language.

To teach London words, we’re repeating and asking him questions.  “What would you like?”  “Please tell mommy if you’d like milk.”  “What’s in your hands?”  And whatever else we can think of.  We’re not only showing him sign language, but also putting our hands over his to make the signs. 

He caught on to the sign for “more” a long time ago and uses it quite a bit.  If I ask him if he’s ready to have breakfast, he uses the “more” sign.  He also uses it when he’s eating and wants “more” of something.  When we were reading a book with an apple in it, I showed him the sign for apple.  Usually, he could care less if I was making a sign, but this time when I put my hand over his a few times, he paid attention. 

But “apple” didn’t’ turn out so well.  The sign is a closed fist held at your cheek that you move around a bit.  Unfortunately, with such a little arm, the hand-over-hand kind of confused things so now London holds his hand by his armpit instead of his cheek and moves his elbow up and down. So “apple” really looks like it should mean “chicken.”

Nonetheless, I count this week as a success.  He added the word “ball” to his little dictionary and his own unique sign for “apple.”

Cookie Cutter

My dream house is for sale.  It’s our house and we’ve worked to rehab it and transform it from something not-so-great to something just right.  Now that we’re hoping to move closer to my job, I feel like I have to breathe in everything about our neighborhood, our street, our house, the park – because it’s all going to be different when we move.

The realtor has been showing the house a few times a week and had a successful open house and a realtor “caravan.”  Last Saturday, a couple came to look at our 110-year-old Victorian cottage that sits on a beautiful landmark street in Chicago’s Wicker Park neighborhood, so we picked up the toys and packed up the baby and dog and went for a long walk.  Today, our realtor told us that the couple said our house “wasn’t cookie cutter enough” and they wanted something just like the new construction in the neighborhood.   

Now, what would make anyone think that a 110-year-old house on a landmark street in a historic neighborhood would be laid out like a new townhouse?  Ugh, what a waste of toy-picking-up.

First Big Trip Follow-up

Well, it was a success.  I enjoyed some grown-up dinners and was way too busy to be crazy worried about London.  Nonetheless, I did borrow our agency’s iBooks to have two video chats with him.  Overall, I thought I behaved myself very well … until the last day.

We finished our shoot on Thursday night and I was trying to standby for an early morning flight home.  Unfortunately all flights were oversold so I was stuck on the 3:00 p.m. which got me home just before bedtime.  My husband promised to keep London awake as long as possible.

Now I won’t say that I freaked out, but I was a little on edge.  When the plane landed I had this sudden and urgent need to get home fast – which is near impossible on a Friday afternoon in Chicago traffic.  Everything moved in slow motion.  The luggage was late and the train sat in the station too long.  I tapped my feet and checked my watch and literally ran from the el station to our house. 

I feel like our little boy had grown in the week I was traveling.  He greeted me with a big smile and a very messy kiss and all of that anxiety I’d been feeling melted away.  It’s always nice to go home, but this time it was wonderful. 

Action!

It’s been a busy month and there’s no sign of slowing down.  I’ve traveled every week and we finally broke down and hired a babysitter to come a few evenings a week when I’m away so that Barry doesn’t have to skip his workouts.  I guess knowing that the babysitter cost you 30 bucks to work out is a really good motivator.

I’m trying to get better about making my workouts a priority instead of sneaking in a run now and then.  Last Saturday, I actually ran 8 miles – 8 slow miles with a special thanks-be-to-Jesus every time I ran into a red light and had a much-needed rest.  And, while I walked like the tin man for three days after, it was totally worth it.  There’s a 10-mile race on Saturday and I’m tempted to torture myself and try to finish it. 

My hubby has been sharing some of his endurance sports supplements with me.  I tried Amino Vital, which was great (and also helps with a hangover).  He also has me trying out a multi-vitamin, but I’m a little wary.  You see, I tend to be a little sensitive about vitamins and have been known to barf even a Flintstone’s. 

Action! Has more than one meaning for us this month.  I’m heading off to Minneapolis to get in the way of our ad agency while they finish up one of my company’s new TV commercials.  I was onsite for the shoot and learned quite a bit.  Then, today, I was actually on the other side of the camera for our company’s sales meeting video.  It’s top secret and very silly, but I might be able to share a clip in a few weeks.  I will absolutely post a link to the TV commercials when they’re final.

The first big trip

It’s been a while since I shared any thoughts.  We’ve been working on the house and I’ve been traveling a bit.  Next week will mark my first trip for longer than two nights.  Well, first trip without baby for longer than two nights.  I’ll be in Miami for a TV commercial shoot for five nights!  And he’ll be asleep on the sixth night when I get home.

I never thought that I would be the mom who didn’t want to leave her baby.  One night is fine.  Two nights is a stretch.  This will be a big deal for me.  I hope I don’t cry in front of my co-workers or behave badly.  Really, London is already 16 months old (on Tuesday, which I’ll miss) and I should be ready for a week away.  Of course, it would be much better if it were a week spent on the beach with Barry.

It’s not that he won’t be safe.  He’ll be with his daddy with a bonus grandma visit or two.  He’ll be loved and safe and bathed and fed.  And it’s not like I see him much as it is.  If I’m lucky, I get two hours a day with him during the week (often less) and then I spend as much time with him as possible on the weekends.  So why the freak out?  Maybe because I can’t check in on him when he sleeps or give him a big “good morning sunshine!” kiss when he wakes up. 

Who knew that I would fall in love this hard?  This is way worse than my first crush and I’m guessing that it will last the rest of my life.