Spring Break Part 1- San Francisco

This past March, we Spring Break adventured back to a place we hold very near and dear to our hearts- the Bay Area in California. Where our love affair began over 25 years ago. First meeting in Berkeley and then moving to the City and spending our 20’s working and loving life in one of my favorite cities of all time- San Francisco. Many of the people we met there during that time have all disbursed throughout the world- some we only keep in contact with through Facebook and others we’ve managed to keep close, and I think of them all, often and with fondness and nostalgia.

We lived in San Francisco in the 90’s- before it became the tech city it is today, we remember it when all we paid was $1,200 for a rent-controlled 2 bedroom apartment that was blocks from the beach. Our neighbors were surfers and single moms and young people like us, just starting out in life with their first real jobs in corporate America. South of Market was not yet developed- there had been no ballpark built… yet. You took your clients to Palamino’s and Zuni Cafe for a nice lunch. The Slanted Door and Tommy Toy’s (closed as of March 2013) were where you took them to dinner. We had views of the Bay Bridge that were completely unobstructed – no buildings blocking your view. The Presidio did not have a million people walking and biking around. You pretty much had it to yourself. The mission district was not completely gentrified. You enjoyed the graffiti, the mom and pop establishments, the Mexican party bus that took you from bar to bar and all those crazy 20-somethings that were trying to figure out what to do with the rest of their life. Sometimes, it seems like a far-away dream that might have happened to someone else. Certainly, not me- suburban mother of 3 living in St. Louis, Missouri in charge of washing dishes, laundry and personal cook, driver and housekeeper to a family of 5. How could this be the same person?

On the day we arrived into SFO, we grabbed our rent-a-car and drove quickly down to the City- taking the old route in through the backroads- through the Sunset District and along the Great Highway. It was a breathtaking day and I yearned to have had more time there to explore but alas we had to arrive at our final destination- the Sea Ranch – before dark and we still had a good few hours of driving time ahead of us. So, instead, we grabbed a quick bite to eat. We headed to where else but our old dive and favorite sushi in the city- Kitaro Sushi! This was known as our place to all our old friends from back in the day. We used to order take-out from there on a weekly basis. It was exactly as we remembered it- the sushi was fresh and pure. Kitaro roll, Godzilla roll, Dragon roll, 49er roll- oh my! The kids devoured their sushi, drank their green tea and learned to really eat with chopsticks. Baby girl asked for sushi for lunch last week and I bought some at Trader Joe’s. She ate it for lunch and I asked her when she got home how she had enjoyed it. It was okay she said with a straight face but not as good as the sushi in San Francisco. Um, yeah I replied- that sushi pretty much rocks this world. It’s hard to compare!

The old neighborhood was the same and yet it was not. The city has a strange, moneyed vibe now with burgeoning amounts of homeless populations that have created tent cities in downtown. You have both sides living so close next to each other, living completely different journeys. The young adults on Geary Avenue look younger to me now, so urban with their sagging pants and big headphones and it seems my age has caught up to me. I struggled to connect and remember being like them- with no cares in the world and only time to kill, waiting for the bus to pick you up and take you along to your next adventure.

The coastline was still beautiful and rugged and cold. Linda still owns and operates the laundromat at the corner where I used to wash my laundry, week after week. “But a house on Cabrillo Street sold for $2.3 million recently” said Linda. “On Cabrillo Street!” Of course it was a tech executive. It’s not that they just come and drive up all the prices she tells us, it’s that they do not become a part of the neighborhood- they keep to themselves. Always working, never seen outside or as part of the community – completely isolated and self-absorbed in their money and their work.

I wonder what San Francisco will be like in another 20 years. And if I will still enjoy visiting it.

Not Ready

His voice is changing. At first we thought he had a cold or his allergies were acting up- that’s why his voice sounded gruffer and lower- different. But the days have passed and his voice keeps getting lower and lower. He’s grown five inches in the last year. There is a sprinkling of acne across his forehead. There’s no denying it- our days are numbered. We will turn around someday too soon and he will be a full-grown man leaving our house. And I am not ready.

I was not ready when I received the phone call from our pediatrician of 14 years about one week ago, as I was helping my friend Keisha who is expecting pick out her registry at “Babies R Us.” There I was- standing in the baby breastfeeding aisle of all aisles and the phone rang. “Hello?” Sandy, her assistant on the other line replied, “yes, well I am afraid I have some bad news.” My heart dropped- had something happened to Dr.? Sandy says “well, it’s just that she is retiring and closing her practice as of June 1st.” What? I was not prepared to hear those words come out of Sandy’s mouth. I knew that Dr. had briefly mentioned the possibility last year at one of their wellness appointments but I had put it out of my mind- not daring to go there.

Now, you might be wondering but they moved to St. Louis, Missouri- how can they still have their pediatrician in Los Angeles? And that, my friends is part of this sad truth- that I cannot let go. I have not been able to emotionally detach myself. The rational mind says but you must! My heart says NO! So, call me crazy but whenever I fill out a medical form for these kids- I list Dr. as their pediatrician- down to her Los Angeles office phone number.  A month ago in fact, I made their summer appointments for both Big Boy and Baby Girl and built our California vacation around those appointments. That’s how much I am holding on. Which is why when I got off the phone with Sandy, I burst into tears, in that baby breastfeeding aisle of “Babies R Us” while Keisha stared at me with a wild confused look in her eyes. Without words, bursting with all types of emotion,  I could no longer hold back and just let it flow.

I grieved for the loss of the only pediatrician that we had ever known, for my children who had been welcomed into this world by her, she who had guided me and talked me off the ledge so many times, through so many cloudy and murky nights and days. For 14 years, she, oh wise one- had seen us through baby jaundice with a newborn hospital stay, ear infections, hand, foot mouth disease, norovirus, a horrible hit to the head with a baseball bat, terrible falls from cribs, playground equipment, tops of stairs onto marble floors, busted lips, heads, arms, knees and on and on. She had documented the lives of my three children with her records and growth charts and percentages. She had reassured us that it was going to be alright.

Didn’t she realize that right now- thousands of miles away from everyone I know and love and with my oldest, on the edge of becoming a man- that I had needed her now- more than ever?

Weekend Road Trip to South Bend, Indiana

A few weekends ago, we road-tripped to South Bend, Indiana for the Rip the Duck Lacrosse Tournament that Second Most Honorable Son participated in. It was a fun, memorable family adventure. It was cold as all out but somehow that just brought us closer together. Nothing like huddling under a blanket with heat warmers in the snow to bring a family closer.

Friday, April 8, 2016

3 p.m. Leaving much later than we wanted (this is a theme for us- always), we finally hit the road. It is a beautiful drive from St. Louis, through Chicago and Indianapolis. During the 6 hour drive we hit every weather possible- high winds, fog, snow flurries, rain and sunshine. This midwest weather is CRAZY!

Saturday, April 9, 2016

8 a.m. First lacrosse game isn’t until early afternoon so we decide to make the most of our morning by driving around South Bend and walking around University of Notre Dame.

10 a.m. We visit the Basilica of the Sacred Heart. The first mass here was celebrated in 1875. The church has been lovingly restored and preserved. It has a sanctuary, seven chapels and forty-four large stained glass windows produced in the 1870’s and 1880’s at the Carmelite Sisters’ glass works in Le Mans, France. A “minor basilica” is a special designation given by the Pope to certain churches because of their antiquity and historical importance. Pope John Paul II designated the church a minor basilica in 1992.

1 p.m. Team Jackson gears up for three back-to-back lacrosse games in the course of 5 hours, in 2o-degree weather. I came prepared with blankets, heat warmers, four layers of clothing for everyone but still, it was not enough. Second Most Honorable Son was such a trooper. He was pretty much numb throughout the duration of the games, with snot dripping from his nose and teeth chattering but he didn’t complain too much. This was a huge character building moment for this kid who loves to complain.

Sunday, April 10, 2016

8 a.m. Final lacrosse game in freezing rain with umbrellas and blankets wrapped around us. After a quick and yummy pancake topped breakfast at the Original Pancake House, we head to the bookstore on Notre Dame’s campus to buy swag in the form of sweatshirts, books and t-shirts.

4 p.m. We are on the road again, back to St. Louis.

If you find yourself in this neck of the woods, here are some kid-friendly activities in South-Bend, Indiana to explore:

The History Museum– Fun, hands-on activities take you back to the pioneer days.

Hannah Lindahl Children’s Museum– Run through a collection of unique artifacts and exhibits that explore the Mishawaka area’s natural history, pioneer villages, and homes.

Potawatomi Zoo and Park– This zoo is on 23 acres and was Indiana’s first zoo. There’s a train, farm, playground and splash pad.

South Bend Chocolate Company Factory and Museum–  Get a tour of the factory and museum. Sample some chocolates and take some home for souvenir gifts.

 

A Confirmation and some BBQ

Big Boy was confirmed last weekend. My sister Melina flew out from Southern California to be his sponsor and visit St. Louis for the first time. So very grateful for the time she spent with us as she is in the middle of a move from the house she’s lived in for the past 15 years to a house closer to where our parents live. The weekend flew by much too fast and was filled with lots of sunshine, love, and all-around happiness.

I took her to Bikram Yoga with me on Sunday morning and then we squeezed in two lacrosse games around Big Boy’s confirmation. We were also lucky enough to have the honor of Big Boy being confirmed at the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis on a gorgeous, 81 degrees blue sky day. For Big Boy’s confirmation gifts, we bought him his first NSV bible along with a book of prayers for young men. He has been reading his book of prayers every night since. I am so glad that the words he is reading there are resonating with some part of his soul. His confirmation marks the official end of Sunday School – a journey he has been on for 9 years. Our parish has a teen youth group he will now move into and hopefully create some great memories there.

Afterwards, we had ourselves some down-home BBQ at SugarFire Smokehouse BBQ. Dang- the veggie lover in me licked every bit of sauce off my fingers. Along with Pappy’s BBQ, these are some serious BBQ St. Louis institutions you must visit if you are ever in the area. Still thinking about those baby back ribs… mmmm. Enjoy your weekend friends!

 

 

A Painting and Celebration of Diversity

Over the past few weeks, Big Boy’s middle school has had St. Louis painter and illustrator Cbabi Bayoc painting on campus. He painted a mural that now hangs in the school main lobby and the central messages and themes are around Diversity, Celebrating Culture and Loving Yourself. We attended the grand opening reception. Here is a picture of the mural:

Word of mouth has spread about Cbabi Bayoc through Facebook and other social media via his project titled “365 Days with Dad.” In 2012, he set out to meet a self-imposed goal of creating one painting a day for 365 days that depicted African-American fathers in ordinary and extraordinary moments with their children. Click here to go to his website and learn more about Cbabi Bayoc and his artwork.

In conjunction with this artist in residence, Big Boy’s visual arts class was given an assignment to explore through their own design, who they saw themselves as. The question posed to them was- “What is your Cultural Identity?” I always find it eye-opening to read something so personal about anyone and so much more when it’s your own child. His thoughts really took me by surprise.

Here’s a picture of his skateboard painting that accompanied his short essay.

Yes, dear boy- things are always changing. Life changes from dark to light and heavy to light. Given this past year of complete change, it’s interesting to note how this journey is showing up in your art. In so many ways, we are blessed by your spirit and energy.

 

Heart

Leaving a little bit of our heart in San Francisco- as we always do. Grateful for quality time spent with each other and loved ones we don’t get to see everyday. Happy Easter Sunday to all.

Less Than 48 Hours in Mexico City

Friday, Feb. 26th, 2016

1 p.m. Arrive from Chicago to Mexico City Airport. Waiting in customs line.

3 p.m. After a frustrating 2 hours of trying to get my phone to work, finally connected with cousin Christian who picks me up from airport and off we go driving through city streets to funeral parlor. Suitcase in trunk.

4 p.m. Arrive at funeral parlor amidst a gigantic celebration pilgrimage to the Basilica de Guadalupe. Thousands of people walking around, firecrackers going off that make you jump every other minute. An explosion of noise, colors and smells.

Once inside, I see relatives I haven’t seen in 40 years, 20 years, and a few months. We embrace and kiss each other on the cheeks. I walk into the parlor where Tia Chica is laying. She is wearing her coat and clutching her rosary and looks at peace. Her hair is still speckled black and white – just like the last time I saw her. Floral fragrances penetrate the air. We wait for the priest for what seems like hours and finally he arrives. He proceeds to give a full mass in spanish. I am glad that my parents made me go to mass in spanish a few times as a child but it is still not enough. All of us American mexicanas are completely lost. My sisters and I walk up to the casket together and cry and pray and embrace. Everyone cries as they weep their final goodbye and we console one another. We are united in our mourning. Dad goes with her body to the crematorium and we don’t see him again for hours.

6 p.m. Cousin Christian drives us back through the city so that we can check into the hotel and clean up before dinner. None of us have eaten anything in over 12 hours. We laugh and cry so hard we almost pee our pants. We fall back into our sisterly roles and pick on one another- taunting and teasing and loving each other only the ways that sisters can. We feel sorry for Christian for having to put up with us.

8 p.m. We are on fumes but refuse to eat hotel food and lay in bed. Christian takes us to La Casa de los Abuelos for dinner. Mom asks for a drink and I’m thinking that’s a great idea, I could really use a good drink. The waiter says they don’t serve alcoholic beverages at La Casa de los Abuelos. Somehow this leaves us in hysterics. Poor waiter. We inhale our food. Meet up with Dad after dinner back at the hotel and yell at him for not eating anything (he is diabetic). Around 1:30 in the morning, we fall asleep and I get the big bed all to myself while my sissys share one. They tease each other about eating too much dairy and what might happen as a result. Ah- good times with sisters.

Cub Scout Mom

After 7 wild and crazy years, my journey as a Cub Scout Mom is coming to an end.

It all began when Big Boy was in second grade. I opened up his backpack and amidst the lunch bag leftovers and homework assignments, I saw a flyer- “Would you like for your son to join the Cub Scouts? Come to the information meeting!”After asking the boy if he was remotely interested and he was- I decided I needed some co-conspirators and set about rounding up a group of moms whose sons could join us and together we all decided to take the scouting plunge. There was only one problem. Who would step up to take on the coveted position of THE DEN LEADER? Cue scary music and happy face.

Faster than you can say Cub Scouts and together with one of my biggest partners in crime- Jackie D.- the next thing you knew I found myself wearing khakis. For those of you unfamiliar with Scouting- all den leaders must wear the khaki uniform shirt complete with sewn on badges to all scout meetings, outings and ceremonies. After some going back and forth and hours of den leader training and several trips to the Boy Scout Center it was decided that the meetings would be held twice monthly directly after school. So there we were, Jackie and I- lugging bins of arts and crafts, balls, marbles, training manuals and flags – in our khaki shirt to and from school. Other moms on campus would see us and shake their heads and laugh, “the things we do for our kids- you won’t catch me wearing that shirt!” It was humbling at first but you know what- looking back now- it was one of the best parenting experiences of my life.

Jackie and I took those boys from 2nd Grade Wolves Scouts to 5th Grade Webelos. We even managed to add another den leader – Dad of the Year- Brent to our crew. Over those four years together and along with a great Cub Scout Pack and involved parents, we learned how to camp, fish, hike, tie knots, build pinewood derby cars, sort canned food at the Food Bank, clean river beds and hiking trails, sing campfire songs, put on puppet shows, cook eggs in a plastic bag in boiling water, earn a multitude of belt loops and make cakes in the shape of rockets and boy scout emblems. We saw these boys grow from crazy, silly 7 year-olds to slightly more mature, respectful and honorable 10 year-olds who learned with time the proper way to fold the U.S. flag and participate in a flag ceremony.

Along the way and through the years, personal changes continued in my life.

Life is Like a Box of Chocolates

My new friend Faraday’s Candle is participating in the quote challenge and has invited me to join in the fun.

I would like to invite my new friend Inpromptu Promptlings to join me!

Post one quote a day for 3 days 

Challenge one new blogger per day for 3 days

Forrest Gump’s journey through the classic film”Forrest Gump” communicates a core, universal message – that all of us are on our individual life journeys, sometimes drifting like a tiny feather through the wind, so vulnerable and fragile- the slightest wind pushes us into a completely different direction, finds us in a place we never could have imagined. Yet, our ability to find happiness and peace within our current situation depends on how we react to those winds of change.

One year ago I was living in my forever home in Los Angeles- you know that place where you think they will drag your dead body out of because you don’t plan on going anywhere for the next however many years? Had no clue what was in store for me in the future. One year later, I sit here in St. Louis, Missouri-  thousands of miles away from my forever home.

I’ve always enjoyed the milk chocolate with cherry fillings. These days, however I am prone to caramel and pecan. I don’t put back the “bad” chocolates back into the box if I find them disgusting, as I did as a small child. I have learned to eat them anyways and try to find something sweet about each one of them.

Buy Daffodils and Smile

The sun came out today. It’s shining so brightly and beats down on my face, back, hands. It’s melted any remaining snow that remained on the ground from the first snow two weeks ago.

For the first time in weeks, I am warm this morning. It is a wonderful 50 some degrees and am so happy I could jump for joy. If I close my eyes, it could almost be a very cold day in Los Angeles. Almost. Then I open my eyes and see all the trees and know that I’m not.

It’s been 4 long winter weeks here in St. Louis since returning from our Florida Christmas vacation. Not gonna lie. It’s been hard. Emotionally. Physically. Spiritually. Even the dog is cold.

Terribly homesick but it’s been a mild winter here and for that am so grateful. This too shall pass.