Fall in Chicago

It's a lovely day here. 73 degrees and sunny, the trees still at the beginning stages of changing into their fall wardrobes. I'm home with Lyle today, and we took a beautiful stroll over to a playground in nearby Lincoln Park. Our walk was made complete by passing not one but two huge construction sites, in front of which we parked ourselves on sidewalks and watched until he was ready to move on. Reminding myself that often the journey is more fun than the destination, I didn't care if we ever made it to the playground, but eventually we did. I tried to soak up the feeling of the warm sun, knowing that it will very soon be a distant memory. We've had a couple of days with temperatures in the 50s already and I know that more are in store for us again, later this week. I love fall sweaters and fleecy sweatshirts, down vests and cute tassle hats on toddlers. I'm looking forward to this season.

We've now been in Chicago for nearly three months. Given how full and busy our lives are here, that doesn't sound like much. Baxter is settled in school and keeping his teacher busy trying to challenge him. He was picked up by a friend's mom today and is having his first playdate without me. He loves school, soccer, and swimming classes. Turns out the boy actually has impressive innate soccer abilities, which is exciting. Lyle is doing great with his new nanny but is happiest on our days at home together; he has switched from his crib to the bottom bunk of the bunkbed and feels very proud of himself. He is absolutely enamored of the swimming pool and lives for his Thursday morning class. Matt and I are very busy with work, but thrilled to have the kind of flexibility built into our work schedules that we do. With Matt working right upstairs and me just a mile away at my clinic, our lives are not as crazy as they could be. I feel like we've recreated all of the factors we loved about our life in San Francisco and have improved upon the things that weren't optimal.

It's been a lot of fun to explore this new city and I know we've only seen the tip of the iceberg - maybe not even that. I feel this internal pressure to see more and do more before winter comes, even though I know that winter will bring its own kind of fun. We had a date on Saturday and we loved taking the el down to the Loop to go out to dinner. On our way home, we bypassed our own stop in favor of one further north, getting out in a new neighborhood we were curious about. Given the fact that we'll probably have to move next summer and we hope to buy a home, we have a lot of neighborhoods to check out.

There continue to be changes afoot. Our landlords have informed us that there will be open houses here every Sunday afternoon from now until the house is sold, which in this market could take a very long time. Baxter's wonderful teacher, Ms. Stalter, is clearly pregnant but hasn't announced it yet. I have suspected this since the first week of school, and it was confirmed by someone unofficially today - she's due in March. Someday I'm sure Baxter will have a full year of school with the same teacher.

But again I remind myself that all of this is just part of the journey. There is not actually a destination ahead that we can point a finger at while our path takes unexpected twists and turns by all the lovely changing trees. I think we are very lucky that we love the path itself; how many people can say that?

They put the "kid" in "kid friendly"

Jeepers Creepers, they weren't kidding. "They" being the folks who tell you that Chicago is a "kid friendly" city. Of course, one of the first things we noticed here were just how many kids there are, living in this city. But it seems to be a point that gets driven home constantly.

More obvious examples are things like the number of offerings (e.g., classes, museums, theaters, etc.) here that are specifically designed for children. The number and variety of classes just at our local Y is astounding. Our kids are enrolled in four classes total right now - everything from the more traditional swimming classes to a soccer clinic and a toddler art class. And they're cheap - we pay for all four what we used to have to pay for one class in San Francisco!

But there are subtler things. When the weather really started to change last week I discovered that I really needed some fall clothes. I walked into J Crew one day, with Lyle in tow out of desperation. My plan was to buy a bunch of things, try them on at home when I could and return what I didn't want. I've done it in the past when I had to and it works. But no. The sales clerks are so used to children coming into their store that they had a whole pile of age appropriate books at the ready. As I tried on clothes, they brought in books for Lyle and then one of them came in and asked me if they could give him a little pack of fruit snacks (just where is the fruit in those snacks, anyway?). Are you kidding? Give him two! Now this is a verrry smart marketing ploy because of course I ended up picking out more clothing than I would have kept if I'd done it my way, but the point is, there are so many children here and people actually cater to them.

Tonight we went to a neighborhood burrito place (we are still searching for a good burrito here, but that's another post). Just a little place with a few tables, but they had a long, low kid-size "bar" along the wall with cute little chairs in front of it. The wall was covered in chalkboards and there was a box of chalk on the bar. There were also kid books and a bulldozer that Lyle opted to play with the entire meal rather than eat anything, but hey, it was better than having him squirming and screaming at the table the whole time.

These things make it so much easier to have the kids with us no matter what we are doing. When I take the kids into a store I feel like they are welcomed most of the time, rather than getting the idea that they are something of a nuisance. It's these subtler things that really make this place seem kid friendly. "They" were right.

Now if they could just do something about a good burrito.

Something resembling a memory of a hill

On Saturday afternoon, I was driving the kids to Matt's sister Julie's house. We were driving on Belmont Avenue. It was flat. I mean, really flat. Not that I was thinking about this, mind you, it's not something you think about after the first couple of weeks.

All of a sudden, from the backseat I heard a boisterous, "WHHHEEEEEE...!" from Lyle. As if he had just come over the highest drop on the roller coaster. I realized we'd gone over just the slightest hint of a rise in the road. Not as dramatic as the nice little bump you get from a pothole. Just a hint of a rise, I tell you.

And it occurred to me that Lyle was imitating what I used to do (only when the kids were in the car - at least most of the time) each time I drove over a huge, stomach-dropping hill in San Francisco.

"A Chicago hill," Baxter droned in his best sarcastic child voice.

The Me Box

While we're on the subject of the Chicago school experience, I want to share how proud I was of Baxter today. Each student in his class was asked to create their own "Me Box" - decorated in any way, filled with whatever artifacts they chose to represent themselves. Baxter worked hard on his, and loved it! He decorated the exterior with Peanuts cartoons, affixed with lots and lots of tape. Inside he placed his dad's old Snoopy, a book to represent how much he loves to read, photos of the four of us, a photo he chose of Baker Beach with a great view of the Golden Gate Bridge (to let them know that he's from SF), a toy cheetah ("because I invented a Superhero called Cheetah Boy"), and a toy Komodo Dragon ("because I liked the Komodo Dragon at the Aquarium").

Although Baxter did not volunteer to go up and present his box, he got right up with a smile when his teacher called on him. He spoke loudly and clearly (not easy for many of his classmates) and although he did a "bare bones" presentation due to nervousness, he got it all in there. When asked later how he'd felt up there, he told us that he was a little bit nervous about telling the class that he brought a cheetah ("Did you notice I did that one last?") because, he feels, he didn't really invent Cheetah Boy because the cheetah was already invented. Hmmm. The inner workings.

At any rate, we were happy to get a glimpse of life inside Baxter's classroom. It's a very nice place to be. The kids are polite and respectful but having fun. It was good to see that there were others who are already reading and were clearly verbally adept. His teacher is working hard at setting a beginning of the year tone, but she can't keep her smile and the twinkle in her eye at bay for long. She was very kind to the kids. There were a ton of parents there, many taking the morning off from work, like us, and I was so glad to see the wide variety of races represented around the room. It is clear from all that is on the walls and the homework that has been sent home every night that some serious learning is going on here; I'm happy that Baxter's in a rigorous academic program because he really needs that challenge. All in all, a good first glimpse into Room 106.

1st Day of School: Chicago Style

Phew. We made it through the summer. Alive, even. I'm willing to bet that someday (probably mere days from now) I'll talk wistfully about the summer of 2006 when we first moved here and I was home with the kids for two glorious months and how we spent sunny days exploring our new city. I'll forget the refusals to get dressed, the angry fits about anything that didn't go one's way, the incessant nervous-habit nose picking (not mine, mind you), and my near constant just-beneath-the-surface desire to bring out the TV and plug it in. But somehow we made it. And Baxter went to school today. Let's take a collective deep sigh, shall we?

He went marching off at top speed this morning. Truly, he got dressed and was out the door like a flash. We literally had to call him back from half a block away to take a few pictures. He even pushed his way through the crowded playground like he knew where he was going. We were a bit bogged down by the large bags of school supplies we were required to bring. This is apparently a midwestern "thing", bringing all your own school supplies (we're talking about over $100 worth of stuff, including paper towels, copy paper, and a disposable camera!).

However, once he found a clear spot and stood there, the reality of this day seemed to set in: he would soon watch the three of us leave while he would spend the next six hours with complete strangers. This was right about the time when he started to try to hide under the shade of Lyle's stroller, yelling, "But I'm HOT!!"(much to Lyle's chagrin) and holding onto my pants for dear life.

At any rate, he went in with his teacher and had a great day while we fretted at home about how he was faring. He came out with the same huge grin he started with at home and said his day was "great", "went fast because it was so fun", and remarked that he "couldn't wait to go back". He loved his teacher and seemed happy with his classmates, although he couldn't think of a single one's name.

Lyle was certainly happy to be reunited with his big brother this afternoon. He spent much of the day crying for his "Baba". The worst was when we got in the car to go to the shoe store and he pointed to Baxter's empty booster seat and sobbed "Baaabaaa...Baaabaa..." all the way there. I realized it had been many months since he had been in the car without him; in fact, he had not been without him period since the move - not even for a few hours! It occurred to me, with a startled pang, that Baxter is in fact Lyle's very best friend. So they had a great afternoon, so happy to be together again.

Sadly, things took a turn for the worse tonight. Baxter was to read for 20 minutes with an adult and then fill out his reading log. However, there was no reading log sent home yet, so I asked him to just write the name of the book and the author and he could bring that in tomorrow. Well, remember that little "issue" with, um, writing? You know, that skill that we didn't practice all summer? Yeah, that came back to haunt us tonight. Granted, the book title was kind of daunting: he had chosen to read "Homicidal Pyscho Jungle Cat", a Calvin and Hobbes comic book. Nice. At first I thought about suggesting a different one, wondering what Ms. Stalter's first impression of us as parents would be, but of course within seconds I realized I didn't care.

What I didn't think about was that it was a long title, and by the time we were ready for the writing part, it was bedtime and he was a zombie. So, without getting into the gruesome details, let's just say there was an angry "explosion", most of which was caused by us deciding he wasn't coping well with this task and would just need to finish it in the morning. I'm sure he wouldn't have minded this one bit except that it meant he also had to wait until morning to play a baseball game on www.snoopy.com. We hope he'll make it through this minor assignment in the morning!

But so far, he seems to really love Burley. (It's just us he hates!) We'll be sure to post at times about our impressions of it as compared to the public schools we were familiar with in San Francisco. I hope he continues to love it; I'm sure we'll all learn a great deal.

Summer Trees

Baxter and I have decided to take a photo of the trees outside our house during each season of the coming year to document the changes. I thought I'd take you on this seasonal ride with us! (This may be of particular interest to those in California and not all that intriguing to those of you in similar climates!) I stood on our front porch and took this one today.

What's the Buzz?

Have you ever spent any time in a foreign country? You might observe the natives closely, even speak their language fairly fluently, and yet - while doing something you think is fairly innocuous, like walking down the sidewalk, say - you suddenly realize that the locals are eyeing you like you just shot up out of an ant hill wearing a bumblebee costume with the mask on backwards.

This is what happens to me each and every time I go to Trader Joe's. Now, come on...shopping at Trader Joe's? That's something I know how to do. It's the same freaking store I shopped at in San Francisco! That should be a no-brainer. I swear, I don't do anything strange. I park the car, get a cart, and walk up and down the aisles like everyone else. 90% of the stuff I buy is exactly what I bought in California. And yet, when I arrive at the register, without fail, the cashier's eyes bug right out of his or her head. I reach up to readjust my bumblebee mask, but find nothing askew.

"Wow!" they exclaim, almost breathless with shock. "You really got a lot of stuff! I mean...wow!" Now, granted, I'm shopping for a family of four. Am I the only one in Chicago who buys a week's worth of groceries at the same time? I blink, taken aback, and look again at the shopping cart. Sure, I have a few extra things, but people: it is the Friday night of Labor Day weekend! We're having friends over tomorrow night for a barbeque - aren't many of us buying a few extra things?

So I look around. What I discover is that no, no one else actually is shopping here for their family of four. It turns out that in this city where Trader Joe's is a relatively new phenomenon (there are only two in the entire city), this is actually where people go to pick up their chips and salsa, cheap beer, and a bag of those yummy honey pretzels. It still seems odd to me - you can get almost everything you want here, and the prices are great - but it hasn't caught on yet the way it has in San Francisco.

But let me tell you, the scene my shopping cart causes? It's a stir. A splash. I automatically start bagging my groceries as I always do, and a guy comes running out of nowhere to help. "Whoa!!" he hollers, as excited and eager as he would be if someone had just farted real loud in the dorm. "You really went for it! I better give you a hand!" "Yeah, you read my mind!", exclaims the cashier, much relieved for the extra assistance. When the manager calls the bagger away from my side, the guy asks - literally in a panic - "But who's going to help her out to her car with all this??" Huh? Help me out? Once I finally tear myself free of their incredulity and make it outside to heroically unload my shopping cart solo, I breathe a sigh of relief.

As I load up my car, I take a look at this apparently outrageous load of groceries. Folks, I had FIVE bags of groceries and a small box with 4 bottles of wine in it. I have posted a photo of it to show you, because I know that no one will believe how unimpressive these groceries are unless you can see them for yourself. Not a soul at Trader Joe's in San Francisco would have looked twice at this amount of food, let alone commented on it. But here I just hold my breath and dive back into my ant hill, wondering when this bumblebee will get things buzzing again.