Take Me Out to the Ball Game

The whole family went to a baseball game out in Schaumburg, Illinois. Read about our wonderful time and why it doesn’t matter whether you are a Sox or a Cubs fan, and why you should take your family to a Flyers game at Chicago Moms Blog here.

Fresh Flowers on the Table

As I was placing my new yellow tulips on the dining room table, I was thinking about a) what I princess I am that I have to have fresh flowers on my table at home every day and b) how truly easy it is to make me happy. When I see those flowers on my table, I instantly smile. The flowers don’t have to be fancy. Today’s flowers are a simple bunch picked up at the grocery store. Charlie was with me and he wanted yellow. I was reaching for the funky pink and white ones, but why not let him have a choice about something? Despite my mood swings, I can really take pleasure in the little things. It’s a luxury to have fresh flowers all the time, but, after all, it is a little luxury, and some luxuries are worth it.

An Upper Middle Class Tragedy

It’s nine p.m. and the telephone rings. “Sophia? It’s Liza, I’m really sick. I can’t come tomorrow. I know you were really counting on me, but I’ve been in bed for three days.” “Ok, thanks for calling. If you wake up in the morning and you feel better, please, please come! Otherwise, get your rest, get healthy, and we’ll see you next week.” “Sophia, I’m really really sorry.” “Don’t worry Liza, these things happen.” Liza is my housekeeper. She comes once a week and cleans, straightens and organizes my small house for four hours. On this occasion, she was scheduled to come the day before we were having a big party, the biggest we have ever had. I had come to rely on her, and I had become super lazy over the three years we have had help with the housekeeping. As I hung up the telephone, panic set in — I would have to clean my own house! I was in shock, denial even. “Maybe she will feel better in the morning, ” I said to Gadget Man optimistically. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the kids out of your hair tomorrow,” he offered. “Excuse me? Aren’t you going to help me clean the house?” I exclaimed. “Oh, sure,” he stammered, “I just thought it would be easier for you if we weren’t around.” What a doll.

I left the house before 8 a.m. the next morning. I had a ton of grocery shopping to do and I needed to get that done and all the other things I was planning to do while Liza cleaned my house. Cell phone in hand, I telephoned my husband at 8:15, hoping Liza showed up. “She’s not coming Sophia,” said Gadget Man apologetically. I had an idea, I hung up the telephone and dialed my best friend. “What’s Esther doing today?” I inquired of her housekeeper/nanny. “She’s home preparing for a big party she has every year. She’s not even helping me today,” she explained. She sympathized with my plight. “I’m going to make some calls,” she promised, “I know a few people, don’t worry.” Then I telephoned another girlfriend. This friend had once told me that her mom admonished her to never, never go without a cleaning lady, even if she was forced to live on beans and generic toilet paper. “Oh, I feel just terrible for you! This is just awful, the worst!” She asserted. Although she really meant it, I started to feel really stupid.

What a princess I had become! I was embarrassed and disappointed in myself. Growing up, we were one of the few households in Northbrook without a housekeeper. My mother didn’t keep the cleanest house, but she did it all herself. The idea of a stranger doing that work for her was totally foreign. Gadget Man, on the other hand, was raised by his live-in nanny. Regardless, he and I used to clean the house ourselves until I was put on bed rest with Charlie (yes, he really helped). We had to get a cleaning service to help out weekly because I wasn’t allowed to do it myself. When Charlie was born, there was no going back. I liked it way too much and we had already figured the cost into our budget.

Of course, I’m not alone. In 1996, about 9.4 million American households had paid cleaning help (this was about nine percent of households.) With the exception of a couple of households, everyone I know has a housekeeper. So much for living in “middle class” Skokie. The thing is, having a housekeeper makes our house “happy.” Apparently, it is really good for our marriage too. Some experts blame divorce rate spikes on housekeeping pressures.
I calmed down a bit and realized that this was really not a big deal. After all, we had our health, right? I could clean the house and get everything else done for the party. It would just mean that I would be up much later and be tired for the party . In between grocery store stops (no, I can’t do all my shopping at just one store anymore) I telephoned Gadget Man one more time. “Please take out the yellow pages and telephone a few maid services. Let’s just give this one last shot.” A half hour later the cell phone rang, it was Gadget Man with good news, “Skokie Maids is sending a couple of people over around 11 a.m., will that be ok?” I was saved! My handsome prince saved his desperate spoiled princess. What a relief! Tragedy averted.

The Power of a Hug

 

This is from Shel Silverstein, an amazing poet, author and illustrator.

Don’t You Love GOOD News? Alan Johnston is Free!

We hardly ever get any good news these days.  I am so happy that Alan Johnston is free.  Of course, I don’t know him, but I had been praying for him.  It was so nice to wake up to the NPR news the other day and hear something good!  Sometimes I feel like the witch in the Wiz.  She sings, “Don’t you bring me no bad news.”  I advocate a “good news day” where all that journalists report is good news all day.  Wouldn’t it be marvelous?

Sleeping Children

I once read that if you are experiencing any bad feelings toward your children (frustration, anger, etc), that you should look at your child sleeping. Indeed all children are beautiful and instantly lovable while sleeping. I get to experience this every night. We don’t tell many people we know this (because we are always told to stop this “bad habit” right away), but we stay with our children until they fall asleep. I really look forward to getting into bed with my daughter. We talk quietly, cuddle, and sometimes I sing to her if she requests it. We are quiet together until I hear her breathing become slower and heavier. When she is fast asleep, I tip toe out. I know that there will come a day when she will tell me she doesn’t need me anymore and that she wants to fall asleep on her own. I cherish this time as one of my favorite simple pleasures of motherhood.