Spring fling

This fall, everyone and their weatherman was predicting snowpocolypse 2012. The worst winter EVER was upon us and we all cowered around our gas fireplaces at the prospect of trudging through knee-deep snow and  the certainty of slipping in the most unflattering way in front of strangers...and picking ourselves up and acting like we were walking along whistling a happy tune the whole time. 

I, too, joined the huddled masses in our unified dread of a cold, bleak and gray winter. Mine was to be made worse, however, with the addition of a newborn on the eve of the winter solstice. Don't misread me: I was eagerly awaiting my wee babe, but wistfully wished that she could have a birthday that fell much, much closer to a holiday like St. Patrick's Day or - even better - Easter.

But mine was to be a near Christmas baby. Just in time for the days to shorten to their least light-filled in the year. 

Nico's girlfriend Ewa joins us for an afternoon at the beach. Her babe will join our beach crew very soon!

And then she was born. And I waited, Uggs and shovel at the ready. There were a few bristly days that found us breathing air we could see. But they were often followed by a 40 degree sun-filled morning, sure to bring a smile to any sleep-deprived new mother's face.

And this week, mother nature has outdone herself. Does she know I only have a month left remaining of stay at home bliss with my trio of trouble? And has decided to reward me? Whatever the reason, I am embracing my fleeting opportunity to bask in the sunshine and let the sand slip between my toes. 

But grandpa, what a big birthday you have!

My father is officially the bionic man. He's always been a superhero to me, but now it's official. Two years ago, he was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. And beat it. Then, an innocent basketball game left him clutching his back, making simple walking a painful task. And then he beat that too. With the help of a little medical "cleaning up" of his spine.

My entire family is in awe of - and couldn't be more thankful for - his amazingly quick recovery. After seeing a pre-surgery Paddy at Thanksgiving, my sis-in-law Rita even commented that my vibrant and talkative father was not himself. After visiting Pat and Mar last week, I am happy to report that Big E is back in action.

He went from not being able to walk up a flight of stairs at Christmas, to touring the Glen Oak Zoo in Peoria with us last week for hours on end. I'm sure it was his dream to spend his b-day at the zoo. Even if it wasn't, I hope it made him feel like a kid again.

Jamie and Nico directly benefited from "gwampa's" speedy recovery. During our three-day visit, the three lads could be frequently found frolicking in the back yard or zipping across the driveway on skateboards. (I'm pretty sure my dad left the skateboarding to younger boys, but you never know...)

Welcome back, energizer bunny, trash talking, kind and dashing dad. I'm so happy that my children know and love you just as much as I do. (Mom, you too! This post is about dad, though. Can't he have anything of his own? ;)

Aoife, please keep the milk out of the microwave

Babies are not good sleepers. This is a known fact; and proven by billions of babies - yourself included - for centuries. So it must have been a new mother who coined the phrase "sleeps like a baby." She was obviously off her rocker, out of her head, and generally suffering from the confusion that comes with baby brain, also known as: she who sleeps no more.

My sweet Aoife. I love you so. And you ARE a good sleeper. It's your frequent need for satiety that is my issue. Dear girl, you will be three months old on Friday. Time is ticking like a clock...(if you want the rest of that witty little ditty, check out the movie Clerks. This is a G rated blog. :) You are an alert, curious, lovely girl who is already grasping at everything I put in front of you - including my hair. You half roll. Your mirth-filled eyes are always ready for the tickle monster to visit.

With an adorably wild-haired P in CA

You go to sleep on your own, no walking or rocking required. Just the blankie Aunt Lisa gave you - before you were you. After your wee fingers grip and grab and rub the blankie all over your pink-cheeked face 100 times, you are out like a light. For the night. And continue to snore through the at least three feedings you wake for.

Well, bully for you, you minx. You have gotten the best of me. You slumber on while I lie awake, thinking of things to do that I can do nothing about at 4 am. Then, just as the dream man, slumber guy, dream catcher...whatever, you know what I'm non-sensibly trying to get at...visits me, so do you. With you soft, yet needy request for food. And now please.

Napping in the crib my oldest bro Mike once slept in...in the back of a station wagon.

I than greet the morning with half closed eyes and put milk in the microwave. Please, Aoife. Help keep the milk out of the microwave. Sleep, baby, sleep. Sleep like a baby.

Stuff Jamie says that I hope I remember forever

Today, screaming across the gym to me, while I am attempting to force a limp limbed Nico to participate in his gymnastics class: "Mama? MAMA! MAMA! (you get the idea...) Once I am there with a thrilled Nicolas who senses freedom... Jamie with a storm cloud across his face: "I'm moving out of town! (what? why?) "Because nobody loves me. And I need to go to the bathroom. (ok, we can go...you know this is Nico's class and you have the digger to play with and apple to snack on...and the very important job of watching over your sleeping sister...) "But I'm still moving away from Chicago." (alright, alright.) After visiting aforementioned bathroom: "I'm still moving out of Chicago, but you can come with me."

Yesterday, amid car chaos (Feeding Aoife, dealing with three talking/crying children, chaging A and N's diapers, finding various dropped items in the farthest parts of the vehicle, and ultimately pulling out the DVD player which was on hand due to our road trip): "Your kids want a lot things, don't they?"

With a very positive tone in his voice: "Don't you like having kids!"

Watching a Wheel of Fortune split screen - Vanna on the bottom, the puzzle on the top: "Why is she so small?"

On Lake Shore Drive: "I'm setting off traps which slow down the other cars so we can pass them."

A few months ago while observing me nurse his newborn sister: "Mom, your feeders have ouchies on them."

And when he can sense I'm feeling a little overwhelmed: "It's OK mom."

And, a shout out to Nico, who I can translate better and better each day: After hurting himself for the 10th time that morning: Me: Can I get you an apple? He with a gigantic grin: "No...cake"

Danny the Dragon's steps we will follow to Happy Hollow

Ten days of vacation sounds like a dream. And it is. But, being human, and prone to fickleness, tiredness, and feeling a bit overwhelmed trying to make everyday of vacation new and special, we kept it local our last weekend in San Jose.

Patrick was drawn to the California-based In 'n Out Burger chain that dotted the freeway. Ever the accommodating wife, I suggested we stop off at his heart's desire one lunch hour when we were faced with a mini-van full of snoring children. We both rated it a "decent" on the fast food burger scale, but it lost points for fresh, but chilly fries. When your menu has fewer than 10 items, they should all be executed to perfection, no?

iPhone at the ready, I scouted out our next location while Patrick picked up our meals. A roadside sign for Happy Hollow piqued my interest. The name alone was reason enough to stop in, and an online coupon sealed the deal.

Happy Hollow is happy indeed, complete with a zoo, puppet shows, rides, a large and intricate climbing area, and this ultra cool suspension bridge at the entrance.

The boys spun in ladybugs, swung in swings, took a ride on the 82 ft long Danny the Dragon (the park's fire-breathing mascot) and took in not one, but two puppet shows.

Hours of fun were had by all. (Perhaps even that little boy in the forefront of the photo...)

We happened to visit on Chinese New Year, and Danny was sporting the spirit of the year of the dragon, befittingly! Notice my vice-like grip on Nico's hand to keep my wild child in this festive shot. I was nearly ready to breathe some fire myself!

Living out of a suitcase

Necessity truly is the mother of invention. During our 10-day stay in CA, we had the pleasure of staying with Patrick's sister Jill. But with three kiddos of her own, space is at a premium in their abode. We were lucky enough though to score a whole bedroom to ourselves, where we cozied up to one another nightly.

We brought a pack-n-play for Nico, Jamie got Ella's old bed, and we camped out on the sleeper sofa. But what about Aoife? She could sleep with us, but that would mean I'd be awake 80% of the night, protecting her from her loving father or propped up on one elbow so I didn't accidentally make the little one fall out of the bed.

Then I realized we had traveled with her bed, I simply needed to empty our clothes out of it first. The wee lass was snug as a bug in a...well...a suitcase. :)

The bonding box

Today, I listened to a commercial on the radio that had the audacity to infer that Coke brings families together. After further consideration, and watching the gathering habits of my own children and their three California-based cousins: Lucas, Ralph and Ella.

I now see that not only doe sugary drinks bring families together, so does the squawk box - or the anti-squawk box, as it served over the past week for these five cousins.

Every morning and evening the children would huddle around the warm glow of Fairly Odd Parents to laugh, jest, joke, and generally smile - in near proximity to one another.

This was not quite the bonding experience I was hoping the children would have, but there's nothing better than looking at five children under the age of 9 and seeing them all laugh in unison.

So much better than when they are chasing and beating - "accidentally" or not - on one another.

So much better. :)

Patrick and Pebble Beach

Who is that handsome man with the wavy locks and shades? Well, we are in California. And in Pebble Beach, so he much be rich and famous. Bradley Cooper? Christian Bale? Hmmm...perhaps Patrick Nolan? Famous to the four adoring fans surrounding him at his table at Roy's in the Spanish Bay Inn and Links?

My own personal celebrity was the one who chanced a last minute exit onto 17-mile drive. For the low, low fee of $9.50, you and all of your common friends can also tour this playground of the uber rich. The gate guard handed up a glossy guide to the 21 high points of the drive.

Numbers one through three were a bit of a snore. And after Patrick made a snarky comment about whether or not I would expect a tip after reading the guide's highlights aloud, I stopped paying attention altogether.

Then, I walked into the Spanish Bay Inn, and Roy's panoramic views of Monterrey Bay. I knew then and there that I would dine at one of those sea view tables. And after a 15 minute tour of the bay, Patrick was in too.

We sipped our Kim Crawford out of goblets, while the boys cheerfully sucked down their kiddie cocktails. Since I was an adventure, I decided to be adventurous, opting for the Bento Box and it's California rolls, tempura tuna, and teriyaki chicken. I was thoroughly enjoying my meal until Patrick mentioned the roe.

"Roe? What's that?" I naively questioned. The answer did not please me. And made it very difficult to enjoy my remaining California roll while attempting to avoid the aforementioned roe. Woe was me. But - oh - the pleasure it brought P.

Bellies full, and a after quick gander around a course Patrick could only dream to eagle on, we headed to the beach. Jamie: "Are we going to the beach? How far is the beach? Is this the beach you like mommy? Thank you for picking this beach with rocks on it for me to climb on!" After making our way down to the very windy, pretty cold beach that included a few very small jellyfish in the sand. Nico: "Back upstairs. Peas?"

Had I been on my own, I could have stayed and gazed at the surrounding beauty for many an hour. Certainly longer than the ten minutes it took me and the boys to walk down the steps, around the jellyfish, and back up via the stones.

All things considered, I consider myself lucky for having those ten minutes.

Back on 17-mile drive, we wound our way around picturesque multi-million dollar beach bungalows and the surrounding forest. Back to our map, we noted the lone cypress, set atop its own lone rocky ledge. Just it against the weather and the world. A bit like Patrick and his golf game. ;)

As we passed through the gate from Pebble Beach and into Carmel, Patrick threw back a longing glace at the world famous gold course and resigned himself to find fulfillment in something slightly more tangible: Dessert.

Jurassic golf

Traveling through the state of California, I am often struck by the stark differences between this hilly, lush land and my own flat Midwestern home. Recent natives, Jill and Rainer, explained the drive as boring. This can only be due to the fact that they have been spoiled by the beauty that surrounds them: Jurassic Park-like hills, dotted with happily grazing cows, glorious sunshine peeking through the vibrant green peaks.

And where there's sunshine and greenery, there's golf. Yesterday, Patrick set off into the hills for a date with the links, dreaming of majestic views and a scratch game. What he got was a tough Jack Nicolas course by the highway, and a 67 on the front 9.

Never one to complain ;) he arrived home full of happiness simply from the joy of being able to savor a few hours with me, myself and I.

A happy glow from Lake Tahoe

Patrick says his idea of Lake Tahoe was built by the Godfather. Apparently, the wedding was hosted on the lake, and perhaps even Fredo met his bitter end here? If I cared enough, I would take 2 seconds to Google it. Instead, I choose to believe and trust my dear husband. :)

Caught up in the excitement of straddling two states - one a gambling loving one - skipped out of CA for NV for a late night date with the blackjack table. How does the saying go? Oh, right: The house always wins. P says though the entertainment he gained made up for the cash he lost. Again, I love my husband and believe him 100%. ;)

While he was whiling away our children's college funds, I responsibly held down the fort in the hotel room. In one hand: A glass of red wine. In the other: Reeses' peanut butter cups. Not to shabby of a deal. Especially with three small sleepers snoring all around me.

This morning, we visited the lake that gave this town it's name. No Fredo. No Godfather. Just two boys ignoring the view and playing on a playset that could have been in any town USA. And one big boy nursing a very sore head. Nevermind, I enjoyed the view for all of us.

Da hills, they were a-callin'. In response, I drove up and dropped up a reluctant P at the top of the mountain at Sierra-at-Tahoe resort. P's sis Jill then accompanied me and my three around Heavenly. And it was truly Heavenly. Our gondola ride up the mountain gave us jaw-dropping views. The boys didn't sweat it and Aoife slept on...which is why she is wide awake and looking around the room right now.

At the tippy top of the mountain, we trudged on over to the sledding hill, where Jamie and Nico enjoyed their mountain vacation. Jill and I even joined them for a run or two.

The weather was impeccable. Nearly 60 degrees, sunny, and snow crunching under our heels.

Jamie tried on some new moves, while Nico went down the hill on his own a few times -reluctantly- before asking very nicely to go home.

At the end of the day, we were all ready for a rest and some grub. The boys are sleeping now in the master suite, while we, Jill, Rainer, and Eefs are winding down the day with a drink and a chat. Ah, vacation. Why can't you last forever?