my kids

I know that everyone assumes a grandparent has unbounded and unconditional love for a grandkid. It's just the way it is. But is it possible that we also love our kids, our adult kids more and more as the years progress and we all get (much) older? I'm going to say yes. I love my two grown girls more with each day, each year, even as I stand back a little, and watch them work out their own lives, plan their own family life, develop their own adult interests. Much of childhood moves forward with reserves of untapped potential festering within, waiting for a breakout moment. And then it explodes and you see not the bud but the full bloom and it is magnificent, and you are in awe of what has become of those squirts who fussed about too much tomato sauce on their spaghetti. 

Today, I tracked another day in the lives of my Chicago daughter and her family. Magnificent blooms, all of them!

Primrose is off to school in the morning and she asks me to walk her over.

 

It's maybe a 10-15 minute walk and she wants me to continue the story I plunged into at lunchtime yesterday. A never ending story about a grandma and a bird who ate chocolate cake and a little girl who never told lies.

(Snowdrop has her own never ending story request in the car -- in her case it's about a penguin family with a baby penguin who has never been to a fair before. She has a little outgrowing it these days, but sometimes she'll still ask for it.)

I meet Primrose's teachers who say exactly the right thing ("you look just like your daughter!"). Primrose runs in with great spirit, turning back for one last affectionate word, because that's the way she is.

Back at home, Juniper is about to have her first tub bath.

You know,  the kind where you put the little tub in the kitchen sink. Many babies are dumbfounded and upset by this abrupt encounter with an endless stream of water, but Juniper appears to me to be a rather fearless baby. She's fine with every aspect of this new experience. Of course, the best part is the towel snuggle after.

All dressed and ready for life!

Well, at two months the choices are rather limited. Still, she's ready!

But first -- a nap. And in that time I go and get a haircut. I feel a little ridiculous getting that done in Chicago, but the thing is, if you follow my girl's lead in such stuff as haircut places, lunch takeout and good shoes for your feet, you wont ever go wrong. So I go to her haircut place and it feels oh so fine to be sitting in this chair and gossiping with this very very talented hair cut person about my daughter's awesomeness. Honestly, a morning doesn't get any better than that!

(Back at her home, for lunch and a bunch of last snuggles with Juniper.)

(Lunch is take out from Little Goat Diner. If you follow the food scene in Chicago, you'll know the Little Goat Diner.)

And now comes the tough part: saying good bye.

Here's the thing: my girls are so nice to me that it's always hard to pull away. I notice that in the evenings when I drop off Snowdrop at my older girl's home: I linger. And I linger.  And I surely noticed that today as I lingered at my Chicago girl's home. Jacket on and still I linger...  One last story, one last exchange,  one last reflection...

Such good people. I know there are many many wonderful adult kids in this world and I'm not the first to feel this, but still I'm always so awed by my girls, their husbands, their families. Such really good people!

With infinite amounts of love...

Sunday

An unusual Sunday. Amazing and full, with terrific moments creating poignant memories to fill me up for the next few weeks.

I'm in Chicago. No animals to feed, no plans to hatch for the day. I'm with my younger girl's family in and I follow in their Sunday footsteps.

There is breakfast of course and a quick hold, or was it hug, or was it hold and hug of little Juniper, but really, the rush was to get her big sister ready for class.

 

 

 

Ballet, at the Old Town School of Music. In person finally this month. I went along to watch.

"I don't need any help" is a recurring theme. The girl is growing up.

Observing her dance was like watching her mom dance. I don't think I missed a class with my daughter, peering through one way windows or cracks in the door, or sometimes, when a teacher felt like indulging my curiosity, I'd be invited inside. Studying a dance teacher's way of conveying ballet movements to young dancers is fascinating. You learn a lot about how young people move and how dance helps them control and organize their movements in good ways. Each teacher is different of course, but the more old school ballet teachers follow similar patterns. I got to see that again today.

At home, Juniper was napping and so I retreated with Primrose to her room and we resumed the game we set in place back in December. With new twists and turns of course.

Oh, look who's up??

I would say (knock on wood) all five of my grandkids have been great babies. No colic, pretty good sleeping habits relatively early on. It's the parents of course. They are that much more attuned to the science of sleep, of eating, of movement. Science, good parenting, and of course -- a heap of good luck.

(Juniper still needs a shoulder to lean on.)

Meals: so many good meals! I always eat very well in Chicago. From a favorite bakery for lunch, to take out from a terrific taco house for dinner. It's all really really good.

(Soon, Juniper! You'll join us at the table soon!)

In the evening, the parents go out to listen to some music. It's their first night out since Juniper came along. They had some trepidation. Sure, Primrose was also about two months old when they finally trusted that I could care for her while they scooted out, but now there are two kids and each has her idiosyncratic demands at bedtime. Still, if I can't handle a couple of grandkids, then what good am I anyway? Go, go! They'll be fine!

Of course, Juniper had the last laugh. Parents out? Let's play! (Photo on self timer here)

But, her breakout play didn't last. The fact is, eventually all children do fall asleep! When anxious parents texted "is everyone good?" I could honestly say -- yes. Just wonderful. 

And really, they were just wonderful. The older I get the more I shrug off inconsequential hiccups in anyone's day. They don't matter. They're hardly observable. What counts is that the evening was smooth and wonderful and the kids adapted and we ended the day with big grins of happiness and satisfaction. 

Goodnight little ones! Here, up north, and everywhere. Sleep well, wake up ready for another beautiful day!

Saturday, to Chicago

Well if you can't see your kids and grandkids all at the same time, the next best thing is to see some of them in the morning and the others in the afternoon.

I'm in Chicago tonight and time is precious. January was such a bust in terms of my visits here. Yes, of course, I can blame it on Covid. Keeping things safe around a newborn took priority, even as the virus was being passed from one child to the next in Madison. Ah well, that's behind us and now I am here.

But to be chronological, first I was at home, lingering over breakfast with Ed.

 

Yesterday's snow squall didn't give us much in terms of real snow, but it did prettify the landscape a bit. (The cheepers would not agree. They hate all snow.)

And then I was in a bookstore with the three Madison grandkids and their mom...

And finally, I steered Blue Moon south to the city that got maybe twenty times as much snow this winter as we did. So wasted on a city street, don;t you think?

It's great to see everyone of course. I arrived when one was napping (not for long!), another was prepping dinner and yet another was all ready for play!

 

 

 

 

 

 

My ears are tuned to Primrose, and my eyes flit between her and Juniper -- the girl who was not even a week old when I last held her. (Dad and mom are the photo takers in all pics with any part of me in them.)

She is two months old now. Practically a toddler!

Well, maybe not quite that.

It's all too easy to be drawn to Jupiter's stunning gaze, but Primorse, too, is a compelling distraction. She's grown a lot in the months since her sister has arrived. Toddler days are long behind her. Indeed, these are the last wisps of little girl-hood.

Man oh man, everyone is just growing and getting bigger and moving on in life! Good thing us older guys are standing still! Or are we? Isn't it true that kids energize us?

I'm energized!

But I force myself to bail out and get to sleep before midnight. Tomorrow is full of good stuff. I need to be peppy. Good night, from Chicago...

with so much love...

Friday

Well, I got busy again. I woke up in the middle of the night and wrote an intro to my Great Writing Project. First in my head and then on my iPhone. And after that, the wheels of the brain began to spin and there was no way I could easily drift back to sleep. Nor were the cats going to make it any easier. Ed was babysitting them downstairs (they are NOT allowed to stay inside overnight while we sleep upstairs) except that he had dozed off, so one feline beast was meowing by the bedroom door -- whether to play, to be a pest, or to ask for a hand in opening the door so he could relieve himself -- this I do not know. I grumbled my way downstairs and chased him out the door.

As I was fixing breakfast, I noticed that my candle had given us its final glow, so I reached for a replacement. I have abandoned pines and firs in favor of grasses and flowers. Last night it was roses and wild ferns, and today we are onto "The Gardener" (with hints of tomato, white tea and honeysuckle, by Boy Smells).

In other words, we have transitioned to an eager anticipation of the next season. 

During the morning hours I rewrote what had been my nighttime fancy. I have to say, I didn't change much. I'm feeling a bit wild right now.

Maybe it's the wind.

In the afternoon -- it's Snowdrop time! The sun is brilliant but the wind stays strong. We go inside. And we bargain. Please bring in my valentines and my backpack, please! I'll let you take as many pictures as you want! (Since school was on winter recess on the true Valentine's Day, they celebrated today. A chance for the kids to write their name twenty times. Plus one for the teacher.)

It's a deal. (I don't abuse my privileges. just two.)

As I head back after dropping the girl off at home, I get a snow squall warning on my phone. Be prepared for zero visibility! (How do you drive in zero visibility?) And isn't that a wintry slap for you?! Enough snow to cause you to wind up in the ditch, but not enough to ski the next day. 

I dont end up in the ditch. But the night work is catching up with me. I lumber in tired as an old dish rag and Ed asks -- should we order a pizza delivery?

How luxurious! 

So luxurious.

Today -- pizza at your door. Tomorrow -- well, I don't know. The world?

Thursday

Thoughts:

Well, I'll join the mounting criticism against the NYTimes taking over wordle. It's just not clever anymore. The word choices are stupid for many reasons which I can't speak of because it may ruin someone's game. I want my old wordle back!

*     *     *

I liked the title of an article in the WashPost: "revenge travel!" Yeah, you got it! Revenge against the virus that kept us locked down and shut in! Revenge against the anxiety that caused sleepless nights and worry-filled days! Revenge against age, stealthily creeping forward and trampling over years of good retirement! An army of millions, plotting their revenge!

*     *     *

Ed has me watching videos. Not about plane crashes or cute cats doing silly things (he likes both, for different reasons), but about the joys of taking charge of your written work and seeing it through to print. As you know, I've been sitting like a plump sausage on my Great Writing Project, not doing anything with it, not moving forward, stuck because there are too many choices and too many technicalities. Well, we ate dinner last night watching YouTubes on how to overcome this "finished product" malaise. And I feel good about what I saw. Who knew that uploaded videos could energize and inspire you to move forward.

 

(breakfast, now almost always with The Cat)

 

*     *     *

How many numbers have you blocked on your phone? Having in the last few days received dozens of spam calls, nearly all beginning with the first three digits of my own cell phone number, I began the arduous task of blocking each and every call that comes in. Who do you think will win this game - me, attacking infinite unblocked number combinations, or the spammers with that same infinite set of numbers still to try?

*     *     *

I got new glasses this afternoon that look exactly the same as my old glasses. 

*     *     *

Today, my Warsaw apartment switched hands. My friends own it now. I had told my sister that I don't have sentimental attachments to places, but actually, I do have attachment to memories and I have nothing but good ones of those five or six years when I experimented with living in Poland again. But, three things changed for me: grandkids multiplied, the pandemic arrested stress free travel, and Ed and I are gettin' old-ish. All that is enough to have me spend less time there and more time here.

*     *     *

I picked up Snowdrop after school. We went straight to the farmhouse.

There will come a time when the girl will get nothing out of my reading to her anymore. Right now though she still loves my narration. And my giving voices to characters in graphic novels. Today we finished a book that lent itself perfectly to graphic presentation (Turtle in Paradise) and it was magnificent! And it made me think about the different worlds created by words and images. I never read the book in text form, but I tell you, the artistic rendition of a kid's life in the Key West of the 1930s was awesome. I felt I was there!

(I knew and loved comic books when I was a kid, but I don't think they had graphic novels then. In case you've never seen one -- it's just like a comic book, except in book form. The story moves along with the help of words and pictures both.)

*     *     *

If you are the youngest in a family of five, you find yourself spending a lot of time watching and learning. Call it observational research. Sparrow is now mobile enough to choose his research subjects carefully. 

*     *     *

What's worse: watching the great skating event unravel at the Olympics or seeing blood pour from a dead person's bashed skull into a swimming pool on episode 8, season 4 of Breaking Bad? You tell me!

Popcorn helped. Followed by a glass of wine. Followed by an ice cream sandwich.

With love...

Wednesday

Here's a trivia question for you, one that I just made up and one which turned out to be harder for me than the hardest wordle puzzle thus far: which city has the most hotels in the whole wide world? If you say Beijing, then I will tell you that you are one clever bird. Indeed, Chinese cities occupy seven spots on the top ten list of places with most hotels and the other three are Paris, London and Rome. So, perhaps predictable, but I sure wouldn't have put any of those in the number one slot. Just last night I felt absolutely confident that it was an altogether different place -- a city that I intend to visit in the last days of March.

I needed a hotel room. Last week, I did a quick internet search and picked a hotel that would be quite acceptable. I booked the room. But yesterday I went back to my selection. It was made in haste. More thought should go into it. After all, who knows how long the window of travel will stay open for us, right? Let's do things well! Let's make sure our escapes and adventures will be as good as they can be!

That was my reasoning as I plunged into exploring all hotel possibilities in my destination. And there are a lot of hotel possibilities. I swear, every block is composed of many hotels. Hidden ones without signs. Bigger ones with plenty of pizazz about them. Dark alley choices, open plan choices. A lot of hotels.

That more thorough search took up most of the evening and a good chunk of the night. And you know what? I didn't care. I wasn't tired. I was having a fantastic time of it! (And yes, I did find something better: All booked now and ready for my adventure next month.)

But this morning I was, rather predictably, sluggish. Too little sleep. Feed the animals. Sigh. I'm not taking my camera. Too heavy. Don't do anything cute or even mildly interesting, guys, I'm not watching you, I'm not doing much of anything but feeding you and returning to the farmhouse. Yawn....

Breakfast. With yesterday's blueberry muffins. (Ed's still not eating much, though he dutifully sits down with me and takes over cat petting to keep Dance and whoever else has come in out of my food.)

The thing is, most of us feel like it's somehow naive and perhaps even tempting fate to look ahead toward a spring and summer where Covid doesn't dictate every step we take. We've been slammed in the gut too many times. Wont we look back at crazy carefree planning and say with great remorse -- well that was foolish! To think this menace would cease haunting us? Haha.  Why, that pandemic, and the one before, and the one before that --  they all kept generating new cases for years! Years! Why should we get out of our quagmire in just two lousy ones? We should have expected three or four or maybe even ten years, because this one is so novel! Of course it's got to be far worse than anything we had in the past.

That's one way to view our future. It's not mine. I don't like dark paths that can only lead to shadowy and uninviting hotels, with the roaches and rodents and filthy public spaces. Let's stick with hope and keep, instead, to the path that takes us to an imagined better place. Eventually we'll get there. Really we will. It's good to start looking for it, even if we are still one foot in the mess of the past two years.

And speaking of messy places and feet stuck in muck, I had to go out and pick up our winter CSA spinach. It's drizzly. It's muddy. It's gray and everything looks like it could use a good scrub. March weather. It felt almost warm. Above freezing for sure. So I went to the zoo.

I have the same mixed feelings as you do about zoos, but ours is free and the animals are there, so you might as well entertain them a little with your presence. Especially on a day when the place is completely empty. Because who goes to the zoo on a wet February day...

So I said hello to the polar bear, the badger, the buffalo, and the one sandhill crane that wasn't given a chance to fly south (I prefer to think he couldn't and we were helping him survive the winter here). And somehow it was uplifting to watch them gaze at me, to see if I would do anything goofy or scary or maybe a little funny. (I'm sure animals appreciate a good laugh.) These guys have a not great life, but it's not totally awful either and they managed to come closer and say hello in their curious ways, and maybe even they took some pleasure in hearing me talk to them in what I hope they interpreted as a soothing voice.

We've had our share of sayings the last few years that turned out to be uplifting one moment only to have us crash the next one, as we realized the ridiculousness of it all. Remember "let's flatten the curve?" Remember "we're all in this together?" Well, this afternoon, as I stood in that wet drizzle of a gray day, I did really think -- hey, we are all in this together aren't we guys... so, go ahead and enjoy your hay or fish or whatever they're feeding you. And try to have a good day! Spring is in the air and soon the kids will be back and you can laugh at their antics and life will be good again. Maybe even joyous! 

I'm seeing it. Joyously.

With love.

Tuesday

There is one thing that schools the world over cannot agree on and that is when to give kids a winter-ish spring break. In Europe they grant a mega dose of days off both in February and then once again in April (or around Easter). But don't ask anyone which days are considered standard vacation stuff. There is no consistency. Here, in the U.S., it's even worse. Universities are almost always on spring break in the second half of March, no matter what. (Well, some weren't off then during the pandemic, but that's another story). But schools? The chaos starts now. Snowdrop is on winter break at this moment. Sparrow is not. Snowdrop parades in her pajamas at 7:30 and munches leisurely on a slice of toasted cheese bread for breakfast. Sparrow has to hurry to get to school by 8. Guess who is the unhappy kid in that household? Then in March they'll both be off. Not in mid March, when our university shuts down and parents are on break, and not near Easter in April. This year spring recess is stuck at the tail end of one month and into the beginning of the next. But that's just them. Others do it differently.

Me, I am mightily confused between breaks and seasons and all the rest of it. We're just a short leap away from spring, but we still haven't had a proper snowstorm this year. No snowmen, not much skiing. That's okay, I'm packing my skis and heading out elsewhere in about a week. A place that was suppose to be snow covered and wonderful, but which actually has had rain on and off for a good chunk of February. I may have to search for snow at higher elevations.

It's all very baffling.

Which is why it's wise to start the day right. Feed the animals...

... then feed your own soul with a warm and cheerful morning meal.

Alone, because I did not have the heart to wake Ed. His sleep cycle is completely bonkers right now.

Oh, and I bake muffins, because we've all missed them.

In the early afternoon I pick up Snowdrop at her house. The girl is well rested and peppy, so I nudge her toward skating. I can't say she jumps at the opportunity. And to her credit, she's not the only one who would rather be inside: the neighborhood ice rink is empty. The nearby playground is empty. our town is full of shut-ins. Still, she goes along.

I don't bother with my skates. I shuffle on the ice in my shoes and keep her company as she works on gaining strength on her blades.

I wonder if this is our last time skating this winter. At least I don't doubt that we'll continue to have below freezing temps. And will the kids ski? Well, we'd need some snow. The elusive white stuff that is in such short supply this year in south central Wisconsin.

Love that Valentine!

Oh, Valentine's Day! Is it a Christian response to a pagan winter festival? Named after Valentine who defied Claudius and was put to death for it? Or is it merely an embellished and romanticized day that flourished once the printing presses permitted the distribution of mass produced cards? (Did you know that Valentine's Day is the second biggest card giving holiday in the U.S.?) I do not care that some deem it a fake tribute to complicated feelings. We enjoy lots of fake, made-up, commercially motivated, unbelievably schmaltzy things in life! Why not rejoice in pinkness in the middle of what is surely the longest shortest month of the year!

Ed has come around to it. We no longer discuss the ridiculousness of dedicating a day to expressing love for each other. He gets the card, pays for the flowers. I pick the flowers and focus on the food for the day (which this year is funny, since he's still not very hungry).

We walk hand in hand through life and so it stands to reason that we walk hand in hand on this day as well.

Figuratively speaking. In cold weather, he sticks his hand in his pockets, I keep mine cozy in my wool mittens. 

A quiet day at the farmette. A Rose Botanica candle, with hints of wild fern and rose petals. A Zoom call with my two buds down south. And a huge relief that tomorrow we begin the second half of the longest shortest month of the year. From there it's downhill all the way til spring.

With so many hearts and x's and o's to all who make my world a beautiful place every single day of the year.