I feel so incredibly blessed to have called three cities home: Kansas City, Chicago and Dublin. Though we only had a few child-free, carefree hours in Chicago (including, but not limited to, a radio tour with a girl named Trish, a trip on The Brown Line, and being so close to a piece of art you can see the artist's pencil etchings framing the parchment), it was more than enough time to restore this suburban-sprawled-out soul.











I know what your thinking: "Enough with Chicago! When are you going to post your long-awaited review of Downton Abbey, Season 2?!?!"

All in good time.

How do you spend the good times, restoring your soul?

Me on a Plane :: A One Woman Show

I should not be allowed to travel alone.

There was an incident with lotion (all over my shirt… at 5 am; commence silent wardrobe meltdown in the fickle darkness of an apartment filled with sleeping children), too many Entertainment Weeklys torn and stuffed into the carryon, a late night panic attack over a misplaced library book, and a showdown between the nook and three paperbacks I was highly unlikely to read. 

All that being said, this chaotic one-woman show is nothing compared to flying overseas with three children, the lotion was not baby vomit, and I don’t have to worry at all about packing an extra pair of trousers and underwear for myself (too much information? Have you ever been on a plane with a baby/toddler/older strong-willed child with a small bladder and a bottomless cup of sprite?). 

Today, the diaper bag has been replaced with the laptop bag, and I am spending the day in the city where I fell in love. 

Truth be told, I fell in love with both the city and the boy, and this is where we started our life together. It’s a strange thing to come back as visitor to the place you once called home. As we descended over a dizzying maze of suburbs and highways, I tried to think back before all the moves and all the babies and most of the heartache and a dozen years, when it was just us and an apartment in the city. 

And a cat. I forgot about the cat.
And a red Honda hatchback with a blue fender. We called her The Egg.
And a cell phone the size of an iPad.
And beautiful, impractical dreams.
And a lake the size of the Irish Sea.

It’s good to be home. Again.

The break-out

I'm breaking out of this joint! 

Saturday noonish I'm boarding a plane for Chicago to meet up with my best girlfriend and enjoy a long weekend reading, sleeping in, and lovin' on her kiddos.

me and the sis in Belfast

To say I'm looking forward to this little break-out is an understatement. The last time I went away - sans husband & kids, whom I love dearly and equally and am unable to live without for any extended period of time - was nearly 6 years ago, with the sister, and across the ocean to Belfast. It was a fabulous time making new friends and exploring a new city, but I missed the boy and the man and haven't been away from all-of-the-above since.

But now there's three to contend with, and life in transition and on the move requires little breaks of rest and small amounts of recouping. It's been a good few weeks and months of intentionality with the fam and the home and the work... actually, it must be very hard work because I'm ready for a couple of days off!

So I'll kiss the wee ones goodbye, give the man a long hug and longer kiss of gratitude, and sit on a crowded plane with an open book. This may seem overdramatic, small, silly or inconsequential to some, but to me... to me, it's a great little gift.

Another Top Ten, American style

I've been putting off writing this post because I thought it would depress me. Seeing as I'm already in a funk and would like to just reminisce about the good ole days for awhile, here we go...

Top 10 things I miss about America:

1. My mom's front porch
   
2. Not worrying about who Jackson's playing with, or if he's behaving himself
3. Peanut butter m&ms
   
4. Our first apartment in Oak Park, IL (we haven't lived there in 7 years, and yet when I think of home, I think of that small, beautiful apartment on Humphrey. I think of Oak Park and Chicago in the fall and my old friends at Logos Bookstore... I remember the carefree-ness that being young, and newly married, and without responsibility brings... I remember how God provided that apartment... and I can literally feel my heart hurt a little)
   
5. The hospital where my children were born and the wonderful OB that held my hand through the loss of another...
   
6. Having an over abundance of parents and siblings around
   
7. The Farmers Market in River Market, KC (and the mennonites and their delicious breads, buying fresh flowers in autumn colors, the pumpkin patch, and taking Jackson to the tiny coffee shop for juice and a ginormous cinnamon roll)
   
8. Target
   
9. Our friends, and our friends' friends, and various family members young and old, who gathered in our living room discussing politics, or calvinism, or love, or the latest episode of The Office
10. Feeling normal
    

There you have it.