The best laid plans...

I was reminded very early today, 1 AM early, that Robert Burns was correct in chiding the mouse oh so long ago:

But little Mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often awry,...

Ani and I should be in Ohio helping my mother while "the Dr. Mark J. Terrell" convalesces from his knee surgery yesterday. Instead, I am typing this entry, Ani is asleep in her room and Adom is out catching up with our friend, Nell. The best laid plans...

Ani had been nursing a fever off and on for the past few days and last night, around 1 AM it spiked to 103.9. I did my best to calmly wake Adom up and relay the news. An earlier discussion with our pediatrician meant that we would indeed be traveling in the morning but not to Ohio... we were headed to Dr. Dan's.

All our planning, packing and preparing was thwarted by the dreaded Hand and Mouth Disease. Again.

But in the spirit of silver lining looking, Ohio was ravaged by storms yesterday... my mother just texted to say power had been restored. If we had been en route to Ohio, it would have been a very warm welcome! As for my father, he is healing very well and being around a toddler with Hand and Mouth Disease could have jeopardized his recovery. So we picked up Aunt Katie, headed to Floriole for breakfast and made the best of Plan B.

Though everything went awry and our mission was scrubbed until July 4th, it all worked out as it was meant to thanks to the best laid schemes of our "small, crafty, (rarely) cowering, (not so) timorous little beast" Ani! 

It really does take a village...

sometimes.

My amazing sister called me Tuesday with an offer of two free tickets to see the Paris Opéra Ballet
perform Giselle Thursday evening.

My lovely husband turned me down... flat.

So I did what any mother thirsting for culture and a night out does... I rang up my "ballet bitch" Morgan. A former ballet dancer herself and fabulous friend all around, she said yes and we planned our night out.

Our dear friend and neighbor, Lin, agreed to not only watch Ani but to come over early so I could complete that most elusive of tasks for (I'm guessing) most mothers- showering... alone!

My (still) lovely husband replete with guilt (I'm guessing), drove me downtown on the hottest day Chicago has seen in some seven years.

My "ballet bitch" Morgan was a fabulous cocktail reception schmoozer, audience member and friend.

And Ani, wonderful Ani, came down with a 101.1 fever just to send me on my way full of worry and guilt at leaving her.

Amazing. Lovely. Fabulous. Wonderful. Giselle was all of these adjectives and more.

Sometimes it really does take a village.... and 154 Parisian ballet dancers.

Simplify, simplify...

"Our life is frittered away by detail... simplify, simplify". 

~Henry David Thoreau

We recently celebrated Memorial Day weekend in Chicago. A time of frivolity and barbecues. The start of summer. A frenzy of activity. More often than not, a weekend that does not embody what it should: a time for pausing to reflect and remember. 

 

Everyone is guilty of getting wrapped up in the details of life. I spent ten minutes staring at a wall of razors at Target on Saturday... Venus: Original... Venus: Spa Breeze... Venus: Oil of Olay. Really? Those are just three I remember. Not to keep you in suspense, I finally chose Venus: Original. Simplify. Simplify.

Thinking back on the weekend, I am grateful to those who gave their lives so that I could stare indecisively at a wall of razors in Target. I am also grateful for all the wonderfully simple joys we shared as a family this weekend because of the sacrifices of countless others:

 

Watching Ani "help" her father hang the flag off our balcony. 

 

 

Sharing a dandelion with a friend.

 

Discovering her first peony at the Green City Market Saturday morning. 

 

Walking with our friends, Lin, Jack and Archie, for delicious homemade ice cream at Grange Hall.

 

 

Enjoying an Italian ice with Ani and Adom on Taylor Street.

 

 

 

Visiting the Book Cellar in Lincoln Square.

 

 

 

Opening a new pack of sidewalk chalk!

 

 

 

Remembering that it isn't all about you. 

Remembering to say thank you. 

Remembering the simple things sometimes are the most important things.

 

 

 

 

 

Gratitude > Complaining

As the NATO Summit winds up or down (depending on your perspective) in Chicago... we have seen and heard a lot of complaining on the streets, in the news, from businesses, protesters, police, commuters, etc. Inside the four walls of our home, we are grateful for health, happiness and two new words for Ani.

"Up!"... said with joy and assertiveness but mostly wonder and the spark of understanding that words = power. Adom swears she has been saying this for weeks but I have my suspicions as Ani and I hang out quite a bit. Timing aside, it is amazing to add another word to her ever growing spoken repertoire.

*book*... quietly signed with a focused face... first on her hands and then on the object in question: Where the Wild Things Are has been heavy in rotation with a smattering of Tintin: The Blue Lotus and A Guide to Biltmore Estate in the mix.

At the risk of sounding like Hamlet... "words, words, words" as of today:

Spoken                                            Signed  

daddy (dah-ee)                                more

dog (dee)                                        milk

cat (ki-ee)                                       all done

bear (behr)                                      eat

baby (bay)                                       sleep

mommy (mumah)                             diaper (modified)

bye (by-ee)                                      bye

hi (high)                                           please

where (whee-r)                                thank you

why (why-ee)                                   telephone

Katie (Kay-dee)                                water

happy (hop-ee)                                 book

up (up)   

yes (u-yah)

I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.  

~G.K. Chesterton                    

Happy Un-birthday Ani!

“I mean, what is an un-birthday present?"
A present given when it isn't your birthday, of course."
Alice considered a little. "I like birthday presents best," she said at last.
You don't know what you're talking about!" cried Humpty Dumpty. "How many days are there in a year?"
Three hundred and sixty-five," said Alice.
And how many birthdays have you?"
One.”  
~Lewis Carroll     
                                           

It seems so much of life begins in medias res and so it is with this blog. Today is your half birthday or as Mr. Carroll would say an un-birthday. Semantics aside, it is cause for celebration. One year ago today, life was uncertain. You were in the CICU at Children's Memorial Hospital in a medically induced coma while your little body healed from surgery. 

That day, I went to see you after dropping Daddy off at the Aon Building and later met Daddy at home for a lunch of buckwheat crepes with ramps, bacon and eggs (if I do my job right, this detail will mean something to you someday). Then we headed back to the hospital to hang out with you. Grandma Elaine and Aunt Katie came by later and then we all headed home for Grandma's meatloaf and potatoes. Meghan and Jamie were your nurses your second day in the CICU. All of these details are perfunctory in some ways. I hastily jotted details, names, numbers down in my little black Moleskine planner last year hoping that later I might have time to pause and reflect. 

It has taken a year and even now feels shoddily done but... thank you to Grandma Elaine and Aunt Katie for staying home to pray and clean our house... Dr. Backer for performing the surgery that corrected your "Ring-Sling Complex"... Dr. Hollinger for scoping your trachea... the countless nameless and faceless doctors, nurses, technicians, etc., who made your surgery a success... thank you to Uncle Jack for coming by to check on us hour after hour... thank you to your nurses, especially Rachel who promised to watch over you that first night and assured me that the best thing I could do for you was to head home for a good night's sleep... thank you to Daddy for listening to me, reassuring me and  holding me when I cried because you were not in your crib... and at the risk of sounding like a pageant contestant or a rapper at an awards show, thank you God for most this amazing un-birthday!