Happy 10th Birthday, Sweetheart!

10 whole years ago we welcomed our first child into this world. I cannot believe it has been that long, honestly. I've been a mom for an entire decade. It's been thrilling, exciting, challenging, and I really can't wait to see what the next decade holds.

Riley has had an exciting year, and perhaps the highlight was having her drawing published in the June Highlights. She was so excited to receive an official letter saying her drawing of the Statue of Liberty would be printed. The local newspaper even did a story on her, and the village honored her with a plaque. (I really should update the blog more often to highlight this.)

She had a great school year, and she's already excelling in fourth grade. Her teacher loves her, and Riley is definitely thriving. Soccer is going well, for the most part. She tried out and made the travel team, and there have been some growing pains. She's currently playing indoor soccer with her coach from last year, and it's nice to see her have the fire back.

Riley cannot get enough of her youngest cousin, Jack. She is going to make a great babysitter in a couple of years. Whenever we get together with friends who have younger kids, most of the time she doesn't complain about not having anyone to play with. Instead, she gravitates toward the younger kids and plays with them. And of course she's beyond excited that she will have another little cousin to play with in May (and she's desperately hoping it's a girl!).

Life as a 10-year-old girl I"m sure will have plenty of challenges. There are already instances where she lets her emotions get the best of her, and I know this is just the beginning. She's struggling to find her place and deal with harder life-related problems. It's not going to be easy for any of us, that's for sure. I know this is part of life with her growing up, but I admit that it's hard. I miss the days of her never-ending laughter, but at the same time she's so helpful when she wants to be. 

I hope she knows how much we love her and are proud of the child she's become. She is so smart, doing her fifth-grade level math. She's constantly reading whenever she has down time and she still loves to just sit and color. She's a people-pleaser who is always thinking of others. For her birthday this year she wanted to donate items to the local animal shelter. That was all her idea. She's our beautiful, loving, compassionate child, and we love her so very much. Happy double-digit birthday, Riley. We love you!

10 years ago yesterday. I had no idea my water
would break just a few hours after this was taken.
Man, I was all belly!

10 years ago today. Poor girl had to get an IV after she was born, so she
had a splint on her left arm. Look at all that hair!

9 years ago at daycare.

8 years ago today.

7 years ago today.

6 years ago today.

5 years ago today.

4 years ago today.

 

3 years ago.

2 years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last year.

 

 

 This year.

Happy 7th Birthday

My little guy turned 7 today. He's so far from being a little boy anymore, but he'll always be my baby. I asked him this morning how 7 felt, and he replied, "Awkward." Yes, he uttered those exact words. Then he said that he can spell encyclopedia, which I said he could do when he was 6. But he said that now that he's 7, he can spell it much faster.

What can I say about this precious boy? Within the past year, he's tried his attempt at basketball, which he loved, but the poor kid was by far the shortest on his team. He actually had a 2nd grader who was a full head taller than him. He also played soccer in the fall, and scored many goals. We put him in a hockey skills class just to get him on the ice, and he skated circles around the other kids. We're so proud of him.

As for school, he is an unbelievable reader. I volunteered a week ago for his class, and his classmates came out in the hall to read to me. He was flying through the pages, whereas some of his other classmates had problems. I really don't remember Riley reading as well at this age. But he doesn't share her passion for reading, at least not yet. He'd rather do it and get it over with.

He's a very loving boy, and he and Riley actively fight over their cousin, Jack. It's times like that which make me regret not making him a big brother. But at the same time, he has a temper, so maybe it's for the best! :)

He lost his top two teeth within the last week, and he looks so much older. It's hard to believe that 7 years ago he entered our family. I knew very early on that we were having a boy--I just felt it. And at 1:20 pm he entered the world (and of course Riley pointed out that Jeremy wouldn't be 7 today until 1:20...says the girl who was born at 12:44 am!). We went out to our favorite breakfast place this morning to have "birthday bacon," and he even received a piece of chocolate cake. 

Riley drew him a birthday card, in which she wrote that he's the best brother ever. So sweet.

I love this little guy more than I could ever imagine. There will always be a soft spot in my heart for him. I will cherish the times he wants me to play goalie for him out in the driveway. I will let him twirl my hair when he feels shy. I will do my best to make him the best boy he can be in whatever capacity that may be. I love you, Jeremy. Happy birthday, buddy. 

And now for Jeremy through the years:

At the hospital

3 months

6 months

9 months

1 year old

18 months

2 years old

2.5 years old

3 years old (and sick)

3.5 years old

4 years old

 

5 years old

6 years old

7 years old and wearing his birthday party crown

Broadcasters

Most everyone who knows me knows that I'm a huge sports fan. Huge. And again, that's something I owe to my dad. And perhaps the two biggest Chicago sports personalities who had an impact on my life were Harry Caray and Pat Foley.

I was in awe yesterday when I heard it was 15 years ago that Harry Caray passed away. I remember I was at college, and that night I had a column due at the school newspaper. I decided to dedicate my column to Harry. (Side note: I Googled myself and the article I wrote and found it here. On another side note, did I ever think that picture I had taken looked like something that should be in a newspaper?!)

Anyway, like I wrote in my article, he was the true epitome of what a Chicagoan is. He was a hard worker, yet he made time for his friends and knew how to have a good time. And he reminded me of my childhood. The times I spent with my grandmother listening to him tell tales and lament about his poor Cubbies. (Side note: I have since changed allegiances and am now a Sox fan. I'm not quite sure how my grandmother would take that news now.)

I've attended my fair share of Cubs games. Probably five times more than Sox games, because Cubs games were easier to get to (the Blue line to the Addison bus), and tickets were cheap. Plus, who actually paid attention to the games? Well, I did when I was younger.

I also read that if alive, Caray would have been 99 today. Wow.

And then Pat Foley, the announcer for the Blackhawks, is by far my favorite announcer in any capacity. The Hawks announced tonight that next month the team would honor him for his 30 years of service. To me, he is hockey. He makes it entertaining, he provides facts, and he has such a distinct voice that makes you want to pay attention. Plus the repoire he has with Eddie Olczyk is phenomenal. 

I remember listening to Pat and Dale Tallon on the radio while I was at college. See, back then, Hawks home games weren't televised, so us die-hard fans were forced to listen to the games via radio (the Internet wasn't even that prevalent back in my day...). 

I think my dad turned me in to listening to both men, although I can't pinpoint the exact times. My dad is very particular about announcers--there have been times when he's muted games because he would rather listen to nothing than the announcer (ahem, Marv Albert). It's cute to see the kids already recognizing when Pat and Eddie are announcing games. They get upset when Hawks games are on NBC and we don't get to hear those two. 

They are/were Chicagoans at their best.

Growing Older

I read something the other day that made me pause and think about things. As parents, we spend a lot of lives focusing on how quickly our children are growing without thinking about how it affects everyone else. We forget that we, too, are aging. But perhaps what's more startling is that our parents are aging as well.

A girl I went to high school with lost her father last week, and I looked at the obituary online. Her dad was only 69. It scares me to think that I'm getting to an age where I might not have a parent around.

Recently my dad pondered retirement. My first reaction was that he's not old enough to do that! He decided not to for now, but it still made me pause and think about life.

Early last month, my dad had a minor procedure done at the hospital. Nothing major, but he had asked me if I would take him to the hospital and back home afterward. No problem. It occurred during winter break for the kids, but Phil graciously offered to keep an eye on the kids while he worked during the day. I arrived to take my dad to the hospital, and off we went.

While he went to check in, I sat down in one of the chairs. Once the woman emerged from the registration room, she said, "I hear your husband say you've been working here for 40 years!" Yeah, insert foot in mouth there. I felt horrible--first that I looked like my father's wife and second that I looked like I could have worked for 40 years! I'm not even 40!

I digress. The procedure went well, despite the fact that my dad was put under. He woke up and was so out of it. He was very pale, and it took him awhile to get the color back in his face. He kept saying how glad he was that I was there and how much he loved me and our entire family. He had me in tears, and I told him that of course I would be there for him and that there's no place else I'd rather be.

My dad was so vulnerable. I saw another side of him. A side that made me so eternally grateful that I live so close to them. A side that makes me scared to think about life without either one of them. My own grandfather passed away when I was 4, and my dad was about my age. That terrifies me.

Me and my dad and grandpa. I think I was about 3.

My parents made an appearance out at our house today, and while my mom was out entertaining the kids, my dad and I were able to sit and chat for a bit. It's those little things that I take for granted. I wish I didn't, but I do. And I hope they realize just how grateful am for everything about them. And I hope they'll be around for many more years to come.

Hold Your Children a Little Closer

On the side of my blog, I have a blog roll. One of those blogs is from a brother-in-law of a friend of mine who went to high school with me. The brother--in-law suddenly lost his 2-year-old boy exactly 2 years ago today.

Take a minute and read his blog post for today. And make sure you have a couple of tissues close by. And then go hug and kiss your children and feel blessed and thankful for your life.

Guilt

I think as a general rule, if you're a parent of younger children, not a day goes by that you don't feel guilty about something.

When the kids were younger, I had a harder time with it. I thought that since I stayed at home, I should be entertaining my children pretty much all day. And if I plopped them in front of the television for a little bit, I wasn't doing my "job". (Now keep in mind that nobody ever told me that's what they thought--those were just expectations I had for myself.) 

Of course I ended up having a time of the day for the kids to watch a movie, but it didn't mean that I was OK with it.

And we can't forget about all the times I've lost my temper with the kids and said, did, acted out in a way I shouldn't have. That's still a problem for me.

And now that the kids are older, they can actually verbalize how they feel. I think I've mentioned it before, but Riley is already pulling the whole, "You love him more than you love me." Ah, the companion to guilt: the guilt trip.

Overall I struggle a lot with guilt.

I feel guilty for not spending enough time with the kids, which in turn makes me feel guilty for not spending enough time with the husband, which in turn makes me feel guilty for not taking time for myself. And most of the time, I put myself last.

I've tried in the past to put aside those feelings of guilt, but they tend to resurface when I'm the most frazzled. There are times when it feels like I have so much on my plate (because I have a very difficult time in saying no since I don't want to let people down). I joke with Phil that I sometimes feel like a particular episode of Saved by the Bell when Jessie is taking the caffeine pills because she can't fit everything in that she needs to. When Zach confronts her, she says that there's never enough time. Yeah, that's me.

So I'm going to try my hardest to not let guilt make decisions for me. Yes, I know there will be times when I take the kids out for ice cream because I feel bad for not spending enough time with them. And yes, there will be times where I play one more game even though I am dead tired because he/she asked. But I'd like to think that I do these things because I'm their mom and not because I feel guilty.