Hey Mikey! Come over here and give me a big wet lickery kiss.

I am currently eating potato salad out of a pyrex storage bowl and loving every minute of it. I am also resting my feet on a cooler filled with beer bottles and juice boxes. Class-ay. Why do I have all of this goodness, you ask? Because this weekend we celebrated Ellis’ birthday for the second time. AJBurke and JWaller were kind enough to open their house (and roof-top) up to us, and helped feed all of the guests. We had a great time making sliders, eating various summer salads and making babies cry. Well, just one baby. Ellis didn’t really enjoy his dinner or 30 people singing “Happy Birthday”, but the other kids fared much better on a diet of apple juice, burgers and sugary goodness.

Pre-half marathon feast.
Norm and I. She is a real snugglebug. Just not with me.

Skyline views. And a pony keg.
“Show me your tongue.” Seriously, that is what was going on.
Will.
Ms. Fi
GM’s masterpiece!
Pre-freak out.
Banner still in tact.

Ellis finally got to meet his Uncle Andy and Aunt Andrea – who traveled all the way from Dayton to watch him cry, throw his cake on the ground and go to bed without presents. We also had guests who came from Madison, Milwaukee and Oak Park. As for presents, this kid is spoiled. Books, bonds, stuffed animals and trucks to name a few. We are so lucky to have such wonderful people in our lives and I hope they know how much we appreciate them – even if I leave parties without saying goodbye (cough cough.)

Sunday wasn’t as fun of a day for obvious and not so obvious reasons. After saying goodbye to JDold et al (much too short of a visit), we picked up a house full of wrapping paper and were stoked about having a free day to roam about the city. It was also the fourth anniversary of my grandma’s passing and surprisingly enough, for the first time in years, I was able to cope. I don’t know if it’s the existence of Ellis, the time/distance from her death, or perhaps a combination of the two, but for whatever reason September didn’t bring on the darkness and anxiety as it had in previous years. I think she would be happy about that. I also think she was messing with me as I received a call at around 10 AM that Ho-Ho’s flipper (tooth) had been stolen again. If you are keeping track, this is the third time this has happened (though we weren’t charged for the second flipper) in one year. This most recent appliance was picked up LAST WEEK. At $300 a pop, this clearly isn’t working. Brimming with a level of frustration that I cannot even begin to articulate, I asked Mr. Swirley if we could go about our day as planned before we go to Oak Park to ransack her place in search of finding a tooth. So to the hipster craft fair we went.

It wouldn’t be a Wicker Park event without: 1) mustaches, 2) photo booths and 3) photo booths with mustaches.

On the way to Wicker Park.

Ellis lived it up at the park and I am sure we were judged by many of the parents present for EK’s lack of shoes. We are still learning, people. Cut us some slack.

I hate you blogger…. Ellis climbed the mini climbing wall solo. Crazy.
So happy.

Don’t get me wrong. We had a great time looking at crafty things (I’m not entirely sure I could identify a purpose for many of the items being sold) and the park was awesome. But Ho-Ho’s gap-tooth smile was weighing on me the entire time we were trying to relax and take in a lovely late summer afternoon.

Mr. Swirley was kind enough to accompany me and Ellis to Oak Park in the hopes that he could temper my reaction to the situation. It sort of worked except when I found out Ho-Ho has used the money I gave her for a haircut to instead buy perfume. Is this what it is like to have a teenager? If so, it’s time to start saving for one of those great East Coast boarding schools I hear so much about.

In tearing the place apart we found: 1) an earring, 2 ) hair roller and 3) pill box – all of which were also stolen at one point or another. After unmaking her bed, searching under furniture and going through her garbage coffee grind by coffee grind, I came up with nothing. Maybe she is right; somehow someone broke into her room while she was napping with the deadbolt and lower lock locked and chain across the door and removed the flipper from her mouth or the bedside table (she can’t remember if she took it out). BLARGH!!!

We also came across soda, french fries and an empty bag of chips her garbage – but she insists her weight gain is due to medication. And just now she called me saying that someone stole all of her batteries (I bought Costco packs and foolishly left them at her house). I try so hard to remain centered when I visit, and when I find myself snapping at her, I know that it won’t help but I can’t stop myself. This results in me not only being frustrated by the loss of material items, the general decline of her mental state, and the added work/cost any given situation will create, but I am disappointed in myself for letting it affect me to such a degree that I cannot bite my tongue. Would I yell at Ellis in the same manner when he is older? Probably not. How do you hold someone accountable while not making them feel bad about themselves? How do you accept that  things will only get worse? This is by no means a pity party – just real questions that I can’t seem to answer. And at 32 would think I would be mature enough to figure some of this out.

She obviously doesn’t mean to lose these things, and has created a  frightening world where she is a victim of a conspiracy that I can’t even begin to understand, but we have to coexist and it is getting more and more challenging to do so. A new flipper is out of the question, a bridge (which includes 3 teeth) is $2400 and an implant is over $3000. What do I do? The gap is so visible and it clearly will affect her self-esteem…but $2400 is a lot right now. And on top of that I resent her for bad choices stemming from a disease she can’t control. There are clearly a lot of decisions that will have be made regarding her long-term care and I suppose it is good to at least accept that fact now, when the issues aren’t as dire as needing 24/7 care, etc. It’s just a lot to take in. 

I suppose it’s stuff like this that makes makes me miss my grandma the most – so perhaps it is appropriate that this happened on the anniversary of her passing. Maybe that sign I saw in Wicker Park with no attribution is some divine message from her. Or from someone who knows everyone has a crappy day once in a while.

Luckily we had a little comic relief at home when young Ellis decided he was ready to eat some cake. So after my lengthy rant, I will leave you with a few pictures of a happy baby because everyone loves babies and puppies. Unless you are dead inside. Then I have nothing to offer you.

First taste.
“They’ve got Mississippi Mud and they’ve got Chocolate Eruption!”
Dad is on bath duty tonight. Sucker.

His elephun attacked earlier in the day, leaving a tiny red dot on his face. He clearly was traumatized.

Everything was a little better this AM…especially after a 30 minute snugglefest with the stinkpot pictured above.

I’m As Cool As A Cucumber In A Bowl Of Hot Sauce

I just drank a cup of water mixed with a tsp. of baking soda in an effort to fight a wicked case of heartburn. At least that is what my new friend Lisa suggested as a remedy. She might have been playing a cruel prank on me since nothing has changed except for the fact that I now have a tsp. of baking soda bubbling in my belleh. I feel bad complaining about heartburn because I am pretty sure it is really common based on the number of daytime ads I saw for GIRD drugs while on maternity leave. And because I am reading We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will be Killed – which is about the Rwandan genocide. I think bellyaching about a bellyache ranks pretty low in comparison.

Last Thursday Ellis and I took a trip out to Oak Park. Ho-Ho decided her drugs had been tampered with and I needed to take her to her pain specialist to get a new prescription. Never mind that Medicare won’t cover another 30 day supply when we just got the script filled. Whatever. So off we went. And sat. And sat. I have to say that I have met some pretty interesting people in the pain specialist’s waiting room. Everyone wants to share their story and most of them make you feel like a pretty big sissy for complaining about your problems. See above. And yes, I recognize the irony of stating that and then continuing on with my rant. Anyway, after a few too many personal tid bits from our waiting room friends, we headed into an exam room. Only to sit for another 45 minutes. When I say “we sat”, I mean Ho-Ho sat and I flew Ellis around like a plane and played with the x-ray light-box screen thing in order to keep him under control. I assume the light box cost about one million dollars but it was a risk I was willing to take. Finally in walks the resident. I let mom launch into her theory of why she was falling asleep in the morning. It couldn’t be the drug cocktail she takes at 6 AM or the fact that she stays up late to watch TV. So after much circuitous logic, the resident leaves and our doctor decides to take a stab at the situation. Round two.

Doctor: So, is this new sleeping pattern stopping you from engaging in every day activities?
Ho-Ho: No.
Doctor: You are able to do things you were doing before?
Ho-Ho: Yes. I walk two miles every day. (editorial note: this is a blatant lie)
Doctor: So what is the problem?
Ho-Ho: I am falling asleep all the G-D time! I can’t do anything.

And scene.I had to step out because Ellis, fed-up with the ridiculousness of the situation, was aggravating the poor resident with his writhing and incessant whining. A few minutes later, out walks the doctor. As we talked about the situation, he literally started banging his head on the wall and for some reason that made me feel better. Like if she can get to him, then maybe my fuse isn’t so short. So we got a new prescription and off we went. Well, off we would have went if she hadn’t lost my car keys. All in all, we spent three hours at the doctor’s office and I still haven’t filled her prescription because I know it will be denied. The strange things is that after Thursday she stopped complaining of falling asleep at odd times; it’s like the visit to the doctor’s office was all she needed to cure her.

Today she told Mrs. D. that someone came in and vandalized her toilet seat.

After that adventure we decided to have some family fun and went to the Museum of Science and Industry with LMK, Ingrid and Sr. Norm on Saturday morning. In addition to supporting ” our warfighters”, Mr. Swirley’s employer also supports its staff and subsidized our tickets. The museum must have recently undergone some major renovations because the last time we visited (c. 2007) it was exactly like it was in 1988. No lie. I feel a little guilty that I was a bit disappointed when I saw the new exhibits, fresh paint and sparkling John Deere tractor. Don’t worry – they still have the Mold-a-Rama machines that singe your nostrils with that strangely nostalgic, yet somewhat poisonous odor of wax melting at a very high temperature.

Ellis particularly enjoyed the kid area and managed to topple anything resembling a tower. My little Godzilla, how I love him. See how his shirt is a darker shade of blue around his neck? That is because he poured water all over himself. Like he does whenever we are around water. First try to drink it, then pour it all over. I guess that is sort of a given with babies.

Baby version of a padded cell. Much better than the “smokestack time out” behind our house that I often tell Ellis about.

Future Globetrotter

Ingrid spent most of her time eating and sleeping – both activities that are pretty legit for an eight week old baby girl. In case you were wondering, yes, she has the most perfect nose ever placed on a baby’s face.

Sr. Norm and Ellis’ future boo – Isn’t she slimming? If you could see his hands then you would know he is holding tight to a sweet, sweet churro.

 Tomorrow EK and I are heading out into the sweltering heat to pick up some gifts for Sweet Lou who is celebrating his second birthday this weekend. Good ole’ Tom Skilling is predicting another day of record breaking temps. Hopefully our faces don’t melt off.