summer plans

I know, I know, I have just been horrible about calling all of you back in Illinois. Just terrible. No excuse other than the “adapting” one. We spent so many weeks without a real schedule that I am now battling to get on one. So, in the hopes that you will forgive me for not calling (oh, and we have decided against getting a home phone, opting to use just our cells – so that number hasn’t changed), I decided to give you a glimpse into our day, now that we’ve started to get into some sort of groove. 7:00 George and I began a tradition back in Evanston, where I am greeted with his sweet face, and a steaming cuppa jo (the one you drink – not read) bedside every morning. I’m a late nighter, so usually, by the time I...

Many good ‘ole small towns in the U.S. of A have a gazebo in the town square. Our’s included. Only Beaver’s gazebo isn’t a structure from the town’s earlier years, nor was its construction planned by the city. Nope. Our gazebo was built specifically for the movie Gung Ho. See, director Ron Howard needed to do some filming and Beaver provided the perfect quintessential small town. Only it was missing a gazebo. Not anymore! So tonight, we ate ice cream on that gazebo, on which Obama also stood while visiting Beaver on the campaign trail, as the smell of funnel cakes, candy apples, cotton candy, and the smoke from carny cigarettes filled the night air. Today was my most favorite day in Beaver to date. And by “to date”, I...

I took the kids to the Lincoln Park Zoo on Tuesday, and was so startled by the lack of morals that were paraded in front of my innocent children, that I completely forgot to share about the treasure of a sanctuary we stumbled upon as we trekked back to our car after our primate education. And that, my friends, was a really long sentence. I can not stand paying for parking, so our spot was a bit far from the zoo, at least for child legs, but I secured it after a well fought circling expedition. And boy did I squeeze into a dandy space. I am a fantastic at parallel parking. A skill I picked up after years of auditions downtown where street parking was the only option I would choose for 5 minute auditions. Fifty cents in a meter was one thing, but no way was I going...

It’s a wonder to me that we were even able to get this picture of all the cousins. All smiling. All looking at the camera. Is it really possible? Thank you Lord for this photo. Now, if we could only get this same shot year, after year, after year . . . THAT would be cool.

Even though I have lived in the Chicagoland area for 16 years now, it took this most recent trip back to the East Coast to reveal that I have not necessarily developed a sold-out love affair with Chicago delicacies. After pondering this a bit I realized that my “it’s ok” attitude towards Chicago eats may be due to my taste buds lacking the nostalgic history of Windy City fare. It’s not that I dislike Chicago’s famous foods, I dig the hot dogs, and have learned not to drench one in ketchup. However, I didn’t grow up salivating over hot dogs or with the culinary knowledge that ketchup is sinful, and thus, the whole idea of the ultimate Chicago hot dog is not really ingrained in my senses. Deep dish pizza? I can take it or leave...

Combining a family vacation with the Olympic games is awesome. You hit the beach during the day, get home around 4, shower to get the Atlantic salt and sand off every inch of your body, listen to your daughter teach campfire songs from family camp to her cousins, look at old family photos and marvel at how much she looks like you, grab some grub (grub being Chesapeake crabs or boardwalk fries with vinegar – two must haves out here), take in an amusement park with the kids, ride your first roller coaster since college with your daughter who keeps her hands raised the entire time while you are just trying to “create a great moment” for her even though you are scared *&^%less, ride the smaller coaster with your son, stop for ice cream, get home...