Pages

Thursday, October 29, 2015

To Elaina, on your 6th birthday

Dear Elaina,

I just finished reading the other birthday letters I've written to you, and tears are streaming down my cheeks. When your daddy comes out here after singing you to sleep, he'll probably roll his eyes and smile a bit, convinced that he knows the tears are because I am sad you are growing up. And he will be right, a little. I blinked and six years flew by. Six years. How did it happen, Lou? It is harder and harder for me to remember when you were a baby (sleep deprivation may have something to do with that). I remember loving the way your little head smelled, but I don't remember what it smelled like. I remember snuggling you, but I don't remember how tiny you felt in my arms. When you started talking, I remember loving all the little ways you said things in your own way, but I don't remember what all of them were. Those moments were here, and now they're not, and it makes me a little sad.

But more than sad, sweetie, I'm crying because I'm just so thankful for you, for the six wonderful years you have been in our lives, for the amazing little girl you are growing up to be.

And it's funny--some of those things I remember about when you were little remain part of who you are today. Your approach to new things has been one of marked timidity until you are sure of yourself--you were the baby who didn't walk until you could nearly run, who didn't say many words before you spoke in complete sentences. For your birthday last year, we got you a Rainbow Dash bicycle, and the first few times you tried it, you were frustrated that you couldn't immediately zip up and down the driveway. For awhile, you abandoned it for a tricycle that you were far too big for, but one day, you decided you were going to learn to ride your bike and that would be that. You still got frustrated, but you didn't quit, and before you knew it, you and I, or you and Daddy, went on bike rides together. Once you have confidence, you are unstoppable, and I love that.


When you were a baby, you hum-yummed almost everything you ate. You sang a little eating song with each bite; we have your first bites of green beans on video, and I'll show you some day what I mean. You still sing to your supper. For being all 38 lbs, you sometimes out-eat me, especially if it's something you like. You have requested sushi for your birthday (I love that about you, and am amazed that it is your favorite food, since Daddy and I likely didn't even know what sushi is when we were 6), and I'm going to keep count--I bet you have just as many california rolls as I do, and I bet you sing the whole time, eyes shut tight in a sushi euphoria.

When you were 2, you hated being put in timeout. Even when your impulses pulled you in the wrong direction, you always wanted to do what was right, you were always sorry when you made the wrong decision, and you always wanted reassurance. You are obsessed with staying "green" at school and often provide me with a daily rundown of who had to put a tab down or flip a card--but never you, "except for two times, and once when everyone but one girl had to do it". Your teacher, Ms. Sullivan, told us in our conference last week that sometimes you hesitate to pick a center even when all of your tabs are up and there are no restrictions on where you can go. You look to her until she reassures you that yes, you can go. And then you happily go to your center. You have also developed the habit of asking me or Daddy 6597 times for reassurance that we have done something we've promised. So I have developed the habit of asking you what I said, and then telling you if you ask again my answer will change. Every time I do that, you smile. I guess sometimes it's all the reassurance you need.


When you were 3, I was convinced that no child had ever been more excited about a birthday than you. You talked about it for weeks and had a perma-grin the entire length of your birthday party. Your birthday party this year wasn't any different. You were so, so happy. Happy for the cookies and the decorations and the $7 haunted house beanbag game I found at Target. Happy for your cousins and grandparents and aunts and uncles and friends. Happy for the piñata that you have always asked for. Happy for your presents, and genuinely appreciative. It is so fun watching you enjoy your day.


When you were not quite 4, and Ellie started being afraid of the dark, you offered her all of your nighttime toys and, eventually, your bed. You have shared each night together since then, Ellie tucked in on her side (and, to be fair to you, often hogging the blanket) and you tucked in on yours, with Giraffio, Wolf, and the 3rd stuffed animal of your choice, with your Twilight Sparkle nightlight turned on. Honestly, I think one of my favorite things about you is how you are as a sister. Ellie makes you so silly--she can have you dissolve into a fit of giggles faster than anyone--and you can do the same for her. You have wonderful negotiation skills and can often talk Ellie of "the ledge" much more gracefully than we can. You call her your "Baybuh" and she calls you "Wayna". You play together so well--just this afternoon, Daddy and I talked about our day for a half hour while you and Ellie played together at the table, you sharing some stickers and coloring pages you'd been given for your birthday. I am so thankful that you have one another. I am so thankful you have Ellie. I am so thankful Ellie has you.


And I am so thankful for you, Loulie. You are growing up faster than I can believe--already in kindergarten, already missing your first tooth, already practicing sight words and simple addition. You are learning and changing and growing, but who you are, what your heart is, those things, sweetie, they are as they have always been, only better. It is such a privilege to be your mama. So if you see me cry a little tomorrow, don't worry--Mommy's not sad, not really. You have just filled Mommy's cup to overflowing, and sometimes, that makes my eyes overflow, too.


Happy birthday, sweet girl.

Monday, October 26, 2015

And now back to your regularly scheduled blogging....

If the road to hell is paved in good intentions, I'd say this little blog of mine is somewhere in Purgatory.

The last two months have been full and busy, and work has been exhausting. I had a project that basically consumed two months and culminated in 6 presentations over the course of two weeks, and then, when that was over, Peoria county decided I should be rewarded for my hard work by serving on jury duty the very next Monday. Our trial took 3 days and praise the Lord they don't measure blood pressure in the deliberation room because, mercy, when 11 of you agree on how to rule and 1 of you doesn't, you might be tempted to pull your hair out right then and there.

Meanwhile, the year continues to truck on at lightning speed. Here are a few highlights of the last few months in (what else) picture form:

Elaina started kindergarten (sob!):

Two weeks later, Ellie started preschool (sob, sob!):

We went camping with my inlaws:



We celebrated my gramma's 92nd birthday:



Josh and I went back to St. Louis for a weekend getaway. We had lunch at the Fountain on Locust and came home with some of their amazing red pepper hummus; we did a walking/tasting tour of the Urban Chestnut brewery, where I discovered what has turned out to be my favorite beer: Count Orlock, a pumpkin-spiced ale. We saw another symphony--Legend of Zelda, this time. And we had an amazing breakfast before coming home to gather up our girls. (I have a picture of it on my phone, but it seems too much work to try to port it over right now. So just imagine french toast with sliced almonds, fresh peaches, and a big scoop of mascarpone cheese. I'll give you a moment to wipe the drool away...)

We went to a fall fest at Picket Fence and took the girls to Christ Orchard, where we loaded up on half a bushel of fresh jonathans, apple cider, and a few other goodies.


We went on the Spoon River Drive to Bernadotte (and managed to take a 45 minute detour because I thought "closed to local traffic" meant we could pose as local traffic and go anyway. Oopsie.)

We celebrated Josh's Grampa Bill's 91st birthday


Mom and Dad came for the weekend, and Mom and I went to a really cool antique/thrift shop in Peoria and then headed to Target where we proceeded to get, among other things, Halloween costumes for our pets. Yuna as a mummy = money well spent. The next day, we took them to see Grand View Drive.


We also carved pumpkins, had Elaina's 6th birthday party (pictures forthcoming), and Josh and I had our annual Grand View Drive.

So, like I said, busy, and full, and exhausting.

And a whole lotta wonderful.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Hitting reset

In the last month, something I've always suspected has become overwhelmingly evident in this little space: when I have a lot on my heart, I don't write at all. It kind of makes me a bad English major, I think, since writing is one of those things we're supposed to do well, particularly about such nebulous things as emotions. I am supposed to express myself through writing, for pete's sake, but when it goes deep enough, I just can't. (There goes my shot at the next great American novel, I guess.) If nothing else, it makes me a pretty bad blogger. But my heart is a little lighter tonight, so now I can share a bit about what has been on my mind lately.

We walked away from our church nearly a year ago, and we haven't found another one. Truth be told, we haven't really looked, partly because for a long, long time my heart couldn't take it, and partly because when we did look, nothing felt right. We're just not sure where to find what we're looking for, if it even exists in Peoria, or at all. This process has been so intensely personal for me that I find it hard to talk about, that even when I want to talk about it, I'm not sure what to say. I want things to be different, but I'm not sure they can be. And coming up on a year since we left is hard. So lately, church has been sitting on the patio on Sunday mornings reading Rachel Held Evans' Searching for Sunday and trying not to cry because it resonates so deeply with me. It's not quite enough, but for now, it has to be.

Work has been stressful. I started a new position on June 1, and it is full of opportunity, but the learning curve is steep and fast. I went from a job where I was the expert, swimming laps in an Olympic-sized pool, to treading water in an ocean of things I don't understand, or understand but not enough, or not fast enough. My new supervisor has high expectations, and I want desperately to meet them, but I spend half of my time terrified I won't. So I keep my head down and keep reminding myself that I wanted to leave my old job, that this was the right move, that it's a great opportunity. Some days it quiets the doubt. Some days, it doesn't.

We've had Yuna for almost a year ago. Getting her, I joked, was our compromise because I wanted one more child and Josh didn't. I hoped it would change things, but really, it hasn't. I still want one more baby. He doesn't. Well meaning friends tell me sometimes God makes those decisions for us and then tells me a story of "whoopsie" babies; I tell them if that's the case, God is clearly siding with Josh. (I don't think that's true anyway.) He and I don't talk about it much, mostly because there's not a point when we know where the other stands. And I don't like to talk about it anyway. His reasons for not wanting another baby are head and heart reasons, they make sense, they are well-considered, and I respect him for the position he holds, even though it hurts me deeply. My reasons for wanting another baby are heart reasons; they are harder to put into words, but they are just as deeply felt. I want us to agree. Even if it means that I don't "get" what I want. But I don't know how to get there. I don't know how to stop hoping he'll change his mind.

In the meantime, Elaina is getting ready to start kindergarten. My sweet little Lou is going to get on a bus next Tuesday morning and I'm going to have to not cry so she can be brave, too. She had a dentist appointment this week and the hygienist discovered she has her very first loose tooth, and she is starting school, and our lives won't ever be the same. Ellie starts preschool in two weeks, and that changes everything, too. I just can't believe how fast the last 6 years have gone. And it doesn't seem quite fair--some parents keep wishing away their children's lives, and I have begged time to slow down, but it passes the same for both of us.

So, a lot has been going on in my head and in my life and in my heart.

But tomorrow is a new day.

A vacation day, actually.

Josh and I are going to Dekalb, the sleepy little college town where we met almost 10 years ago. We are going to try a coffee roaster that wasn't there while we were in school, back in the days when we thought Maxwell House french roast was top of the line. We are going to see one of my friends from undergrad days and meet her little son and give her my old boppy pillow to use with her daughter, due next month. We will introduce her to the culinary wonder that is Bea's Wok 'n Roll. We will order postickers and jasmine tea and an extra entree to go, so that Bea can be a guest at our dinner table, too. Then we will go visit Dr. Giles and his wife, Wanda, and take them a pie I made tonight with a "G" cut out of the top crust. We will talk about how we met and about our wedding and what we are doing now, and we will take a picture because I promised Wanda we'd bring our fancy camera with the built-in timer. And then we will come home and gather our girls and another weekend will begin.

Nothing will have changed, but everything will be better.

We are hitting reset, and I can't wait.

Wednesday, July 15, 2015

To Ellie, on your 4th birthday

Dear Ellie,

When you were a baby, once we had figured out that you would, in fact, take a bottle (so long as you were under a ceiling fan with someone stroking your cheek, shushing, and swaying), you became my Mary Poppins baby--practically perfect in every way. You were happy, easy-going, silly, and sweet. You maintained that moniker well into your second year, until we entered what Daddy lovingly referred to as the "age of rage". You got well acquainted with the Time Out Bench during that time, and you gave your mama more than one grey hair. (My hair stylist thanks you for that.) By the time you turned 3--a year ago today--you seemed to be melding my Mary Poppins baby and my *ahem* opinionated toddler into something wonderful and challenging and uniquely you.

Sweetheart, this year has been so much fun.

You have always been ornery, but the older you get, the more wonderful and nuanced your sense of humor gets. You love to be teased as much as you love to tease. You love to come out in the morning and yell "Surpwise!!", and you love to be tickled. It isn't uncommon for you to giggle yourself into a fit of hiccups, which always seems to make you giggle more.

Your relationship with Elaina continues to be one of my favorite things to watch. Minus a few squabbles here and there, you two get along beautifully. Sometimes, you will go off to play together and Daddy and I will just look at each other in surprise, because there were days when you were younger that we thought you'd never want to play on your own. Lately, when you agree on something, one of you will shout, "Now we're besties again!" Where Elaina is sensitive, you are able to calm her. Where you are unreasonable, she is able to make you bend. I am so, so thankful you have one another.

 This year, you watched Elaina go to preschool, and though the first few weeks without her were an adjustment, you learned to make the most of your "Ellie time" with Gramma. I can't believe that in a few short weeks you'll be off to preschool yourself. But Ellie, I think you're absolutely going to love it. You love books (particularly those you know Daddy and I are sick to death of reading--see ornery),    you are great at counting, you are a budding little artist, and you are starting to learn sight words (thanks, Wallykazam). You are quick to make friends, too--though you are shy around bigger kids, you are completely unafraid to strike up conversation with kids your own age. Sometimes I eavesdrop on your conversations and smile to myself, because among all the other voices, I hear your little chipmunk voice telling the others how it is.

You are our little performer, often disappearing into Gramma's toy room when we come to pick you up, only to announce your arrival in the clack-clack-clack of fake high heels. Oftentimes your getup includes two or three layered skirts, butterfly wings, and a witch's hat. You climb up on to the coffee table and shout your song, and twirl, and it is so, so funny. When you decided that chili was one of your favorite things in the whole world to eat, you made up a chili bean song to sing to yourself every night at bedtime. I love watching what each performance will bring.

You love pickles and Tom and Jerry, and your favorite color is "wainbow". As soon as you come in from the outdoors, you insist on having socks on your feet at all times, even when it's 10000 degrees outside, and heaven forbid you sneeze without a kleenex within a 2 foot radius. You tell us you are a ninja one minute and then show us your ballerina twirls the next. You are my baby who insists on being held and my big girl who insists she can do it herself, thankyouverymuch. You give the best cuddles in the entire world--I am pretty sure Ellie hugs could stop most of the wars in this world.

You are complex, hilarious, and sweet.

I am so proud to be your mama, and I can't wait to watch you grow this year.

Happy birthday, sweetie.











Thursday, June 11, 2015

Serrano Family June, Week 1

Last night, I worked on a lengthy, picture-laden post written to highlight our first week of June. I finished up around 9:45 and clicked Publish, and nothing happened. Then Blogger ate the post and all my work vanished. I was so frustrated that I gave up and went to bed, and almost said forget it altogether. And then tonight, while I was putting Ellie to bed, I came across this post. Much of it I remember, but so much of it I'd forgotten. Life is just as precious now, and just as hard to grasp, but I don't want to forget it--and if I do, I want to have a place I can go to to remember again. So this verso will be a bit more abbreviated, but here it is all the same: Serrano Family June 2015, Week 1:

Monday, June 1
Each week, the girls clean their bedroom and toy room and are paid a $1 per room allowance for this chore. This week, they also cleaned out several toys they had outgrown or lost interest in and donated them to the local second hand charity in town. They then used the allowance they had earned to order a couple of stuffed animals they'd seen at Barnes and Noble a few weeks before, and today, they came in the mail (thanks, Amazon Prime!). Wolf and Puppy joined us at dinner and on our family walk, and Elaina sleeps with hers every night. (No such love for Puppy with Ellie--nothing, it seems can supplant Piglet's place in her arms.)

Elaina was howling. Not sure what Ellie was doing :)

Tuesday, June 2
Tonight, Ellie chose to watch Olivia before bed. As Olivia danced on the screen, Ellie danced on the coffee table.

Wednesday, June 3
Today's work lunch included a stop at 3030 for some coffee and a chat before heading to Sugar for the main event. It was every bit as delicious as it looks.

mmmmm......
My Timehop today was a Facebook status that was so sweet--six years ago today, Josh felt Elaina move for the first time. I was barely showing, and we didn't even know she was a girl yet, and then I blinked and this is what I see. Such a little beauty.

Thursday, June 4
Today, Ellie followed me out to the strawberry patch. While I weeded, she found the one red berry and promptly asked for permission to eat it, which was granted. She then went on to tell me all about how she is "stwabewwy expert" and that when she grows up, she will feature stwawbewwy dishes at her restaurant. And chicken olives (whatever those are).

Friday, June 5
Today we got the pool out for the first time of the season. It was met by the seals of approval of two very happy little girls.



                            

Saturday, June 6
Just about as perfect as summer days get. After relaxing for a bit in the morning, we headed to two farmer's markets in Peoria, and to Su Casa, the Mexican store in what I lovingly refer to as the scary part of Peoria, to get tamales. The farmer's markets were sort of hit or miss; we walked away with some nice pea pods, a bunch of ginormous radishes, and kettle corn, but I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the booth selling avocados. Avocados. In Illinois. With the Kroger sticker still attached. The tamales, however, never disappoint, and today they were no exception.
This is a sad picture, because all of those lovely tamales are gone...
 After lunch, we let the girls go in the pool again, and Josh made an amazing guacamole while I tried a new, successful recipe for lemon blueberry bread. We spent most of the day outside, all of the day together, ate good food, laughed, and it really couldn't have been much better.


Sunday, June 7
Rain threatened first thing this morning, so after breakfast, I stepped outside to put the girls' pool floaties in the shed so they wouldn't blow away. Elaina decided to help :)

 Josh and Ellie followed soon behind, and we watched the storm roll in while Ellie mowed the grass and I hummed "It's Beginning to Rain" and transported myself back to a revival service of my childhood held by the Armstrongs. 
Piglet is a faithful mowing buddy, too

About five minutes after we came back inside, the skies opened up. Elaina was happy to sit with me and watch the rain, even though a particularly sharp crack of thunder scared us both. 
Watching from inside after we ran screaming and laughing into the house together

In the afternoon, the girls were content to play by themselves, so Josh and I took the opportunity to lay down and pretend to nap. Yuna joined us, and she was in no hurry to get down, evidenced by the look she kept giving me when I nudged her with my foot. 
You're not gonna make me get down, are you?
After quite some time, we noticed the girls were exceptionally quiet and came out to find them like this.

It was a good weekend, and a good start to June. Keep up the good work, summer!


Monday, May 18, 2015

Meet me in St. Louis

My apologies for the radio silence around here lately. Life has been...hectic. Hopefully that will change soon. Or I'll make writing more of a priority. Whichever :)

In January, when the Year of Yes was fresh in our minds, an ad popped up in my Facebook newsfeed for a Final Fantasy symphony. When I saw it was being performed in St. Louis in May, I mentioned it to Josh, figuring it would be a nice idea but not something we'd end up doing. To my surprise, he said, "Let's do it." So before either of us had a chance to talk ourselves out of it, I bought the tickets. We've been looking forward to it ever since.

This weekend, we packed up the dog and the girls, dropped them off at my in-laws, and hit the road. After a quick stop in Springfield for some coffee (poor Ellie had a nightmare Friday night, and poor Mommy was up with her for an hour or so until I gave up and brought her to sleep next to me), we made good time and arrived in St. Louis around 11:30. Our first priority was to head to what we had heard was a St. Louis staple--Pappy's Smokehouse. Apparently, half of the metropolitan area had the same idea. When we arrived, the line was already outside of the building. The sensible side of my brain told me to bail and find somewhere else to eat. The adventurous side of my brain said you only live once, and it's not like you can eat at a Food Network featured show in Peoria. 

An hour and a half later, both sides of my brain were wondering what the heck I'd been thinking. 

It seemed particularly cruel that we were herded inside the building, and then herded outside the back door to continue waiting. (At least we got out of the intermittent rain.) It seemed cruel that a private party was hogging (see what I did there?) half of the restaurant. It seemed cruel that we had to wait another half hour once we got inside the dining area and watch people eat. 

But eventually we finally made it to the front of the line. Josh ordered a half rack of ribs, and I had a burnt end sandwich. And it was delicious. Josh and I both decided that it was worth doing, once. And that we'd never do it again...unless we somehow end up working for Food Network some day and can, you know, skip the ridiculously long line.

Delicious because it's delicious, or delicious because by the time we ate a deep-fried shoe would have tasted good? The world may never know.

After eating, we decided the best course of action was to walk toward the symphony hall, create a game plan for the evening, and stay out of the rain as best we could. That turned out to be a bit of a challenge--the downpours were frequent and hard to predict--but we timed it well and found places to stay dry. One of them was another St. Louis specialty--the Urban Chestnut brewery and pub. Urban Chestnut specializes in German-style beer (Josh's favorite) and had a lovely outdoor seating area which we avoided because we preferred to keep the seats of our pants dry. Josh tried the Debochle, and I had the Maximillian, and while I don't consider myself much of a beer conisuer, I really enjoyed it. We watched the rain and relaxed, and by the time our glasses were empty, the rain had stopped. It was definitely worth the stop.


I was mesmerized by the bubbles
We walked back to our hotel, and discovered along the way that St. Louis is a lot more spread out than Chicago. (I got my steps in pretty easily!) We arrived at our hotel at 3:00--just in time to check in. The wonderful, blessed hostess saw that our reservation had been made for the same floor as a tour group of high schoolers and changed us to the 11th floor, where we had a great view of the city, and a view of the arch from the picture window at the end of the hall.

He could be a St. Louis model
The remainder of the afternoon consisted of watching Friends reruns and taking an unexpected but glorious nap, and then it was time to get ready for dinner and the symphony. 

Since lunch was so late, we weren't hungry enough for a full meal, but we knew not eating before a 2+ hour program was a bad idea. We decided to try The Fountain on Locust, which was close to the symphony and which I was interested in because they serve ice cream martinis. Let that sink in for a moment. Ice. Cream. Martinis. The Fountain was a definite highlight of the trip. I had the "Grand Chocolate" martini (amazing). Josh tried another Urban Chestnut brew, and we ordered the La Picada appetizer, which was sautéed zucchini, red onion, and red bell pepper, served with pesto, goat cheese, and hummus on crostini. That appetizer was the best bite we had all weekend; I'd go back to St. Louis just to have it again.

So, what is an ice cream martini like?
A little bit of heaven in a glass
After we licked our plates clean finished our food and drinks, it was time to head to the symphony.

Powell Symphony Hall is beautiful, and though our seats were quite high up, I don't think there was a bad seat to be had. We arrived in plenty of time to enjoy another favorite pastime--people watching, which included my nearly running into a woman in the bathroom who was dressed as a character from one of the game. The performance started promptly at 7:30, and it was flawless. A large screen showed clips of the games with each piece, and the conductor had an engaging personality and clear enthusiasm for the music. It was two hours well spent, worth every penny. Because I can't think of any more eloquent way to say it--I loved it.


On Sunday morning, we slept in (amazing--woke up after 8:00--and wasn't sure that was actually possible), had breakfast at the hotel, and went for a walk. Interesting fact about St. Louis: nothing is open before 11 on Sundays. Which would have been great to know the day before when, instead of waiting in line at Pappy's, we could have visited a coffee roaster or shop or anything. Lesson learned for next time. Still, I can't complain. It was a wonderful, wonderful trip.

Our trip home was fairly uneventful, but because we hadn't had enough excitement exploring St. Louis, eating amazing food, and going to an incredible symphony, we decided to stop at Prompt Care in Morton just to see what they do there. Or, we stopped because Josh had an incredibly swollen lymph node in his neck which seemed to be getting bigger by the hour, and we didn't think waiting to see if it would get better on its own was a smart idea. Poor guy was diagnosed with strep, and with a few doses of penicillin in his system, he seems to be on the mend.
Poor fella :(
I'd never have guessed that my first symphony would be of video game music, but with Josh by my side, I'm not sure there's a symphony I'd rathe hear more. Saying yes to this trip in January turned out to be quite a great decision. I hope we say yes to more adventures like this soon!