Update

I have been awful about updating this blog of late. The Tot and I have been having fun doing little stuff around the north side, and generally ignoring or skipping our classes. I have to get better about actually going to our Moms, Pops, & Tots interaction class at Independence Park, which is on hiatus this week between sessions. And I have not been great about going to Jam with Julie, which The Tot does enjoy, but is often in a time conflict with both the start of the school day and, an hour later, the start of the CFC day. I'm no longer involved with the co-op, thus eliminating daily runs to Midwest Bank and freeing up our schedule to enjoy our Wednesday morning class with Julie. But I have no great excuse for missing our IP class.

On tap this week? Lots of nonfat vanilla lattes at Starbucks. On Monday, we went to the Treasure Store. The Tot likes to run and hide under the racks, and doesn't respond when called, so I must keep him in the stroller or mei-tei in the store. On Monday, I was wearing him on my back in the Catbird Baby and a pregnant woman who was clearly shopping the baby bargains, asked me if I had ever seen slings in the TA and where could she find them. I don't recall noticing a sling in the TS, but told her that she could buy them used on The Baby Wearer. I always seem to find something at the TS -- on Monday, it was a new terrycloth bathrobe and NWT plain navy blue t-shirt for The Boy, and a cute Hawaiian print camp shirt and PsychoBaby Mack Daddy tee for The Tot. Afterwards, we stopped at Starbucks for--you guessed it--a nonfat vanilla latte.

On Thursday, we skipped the latte and went to Joann's ISO yellow fabric to make a t-shirt for The Boy. Another store that is a nightmare chase scene for Mama, Joann's displays tons of little things (spools of thread and ribbon, packages of elastic and so much else!) at a height of approximately 3' off the floor--just level with The Tot's line of vision. And I've noticed that fabric stores tend to employ women just below the age of retirement. Presumably, it's because they know a lot about fabric and sewing and can speak knowledgably to inquiring customers. This may be true, but they also tend to be crabby and have behavioral expectations of small children that are stuck in the 1960s, and they have no problem correcting my kid when they think he's doing something wrong -- like picking up a spool of plastic-wrapped serger thread and licking it. Which he should not do, but really?!?

Afterward, we walked down to Strack & Van Til, the signs in the windows of which read, somewhat incorrectly in my opinion, "thank you for shopping at your neighborhood market." There's a difference between a store that is in your neighborhood and one that is your neighborhood market. The parent company is based in Highland, Indiana. Still, there was a man giving a food tour to a group of school kids in the produce section, and one of the deli counter ladies gave The Tot a steak fry when I asked her if she had any plastic knives that I could use to cut open the avocado that The Tot was trying to gnaw his way through (they were sold "by the each") as he was hungry and crabby.

Amazingly enough, after two errands, we still had time to kill before we had to retrieve The Girl from preschool, so I headed over to Clybourn to do a quick cruise through Cost Plus World Market, a store in which I loved to browse when we lived in San Francisco, and which the non-IKEA furniture and decor in my house almost invariably comes from. Picked up a new glass canister to hold coffee beans and a fun new bath toy for The Tot. And then it was time to get The Girl from school.

Southport Corridor

Yesterday, The Dad and I celebrated 9 years of marriage by leaving the kids with a sitter (my friend Allison) in the evening and going out. Our plans were nebulous, but The Dad met my request for dessert (after nearly a week of following the South Beach Diet) by taking me to Julius Meinl (the original location, on Southport). We shared a lovely settee in the nearly empty cafe, and each got a decadent coffee drink (decaf for me) and an equally decadent dessert (I had the Vienna Torte).

The weather was perfect - mid 70s and clear, which made it a nice night to be out and about in the city. Apparently, a lot of other people had the same idea because parking was difficult; we ended up in a metered spot close to Ashland, and walked. I was focused on my rumbling tummy on the walk to Meinl, but once my belly was full of chocolate, marzipan, and coffee, I could concentrate on my surroundings on our leisurely stroll back to the car.

Wow - there is a lot of new stuff in that area! When The Boy was a baby, we went to a pediatricians' practice near Schuba's, at Belmont and Southport. But we switched practices when he was around 2, and haven't been back in that area much since The Girl was born. Maybe we should change that, as there are a ton of restaurants, candy stores, and shops (including an Anthropologie in what I remember being an auto-body shop or garage) in the area. The Boy would probably hate everything except Candyality or Bob Tail Creamery, but The Girl, who has absorbed my penchant for consumerism, would dig it. I'll have to go back sometime with the kids.

A sheltered life

Unjustly accused of losing The Dad's keys, I spent the morning combing the house, car, and garage for them. Rather than showering and taking The Baby (and The Girl) to one of the last jammin' with Julie classes of the session, I alternately helped him search and consoled a cranky Baby. (I found the keys where The Dad had left them: stuck in the garage door.)

After dropping The Girl off at MDO, The Baby and I spent the day entertaining The Dad's cousin James. He charmed the heck out of The Baby, but he's really in Chicago to find a job in accounting/finance. We left The Great White Moose in the lot and walked along uncluttered sidewalks lined with leafy trees through the neighborhood to Starbucks for vanilla lattes and baked goods (The Baby took over my apricot scone with raspberry jam print; I'd post a review [we're already frosted sugar cookie addicts], but I hardly got any.)

James told me about some of his experiences as a Chicago newbie. I have to admit that some of them shocked me. On some level, I am aware that such things/people exist, but the Chicago I know, work, live, and play in is still scrubbed pretty clean of the underwordliness that The Dad's cousin saw. And I suppose Mayor Daley likes it that way. Corruption is one thing. The revival of the Levee is another.

Later, The Baby, The Girl, The Boy and I headed to Uptown for playgroup. Today's cute kid story is brought to you by Aqua, the Danish pop group from the 1990s most known for its song, "Barbie Girl." The Girl asked to put in the CD "with the blue bubbles," so I popped in Aquarium. The Girl, of course, loved "Barbie Girl" and asked me if "the Barbies" were singing it; she then asserted that this was true. I didn't bother to disabuse her or The Boy of that notion. The Boy said that he was going to (pretend to) be the boy singer because he liked his voice. He then asked what the boy singer's name was. I told him "Ken."

By some miracle, we made good time driving to Uptown and back. We spent 2 hours playing with our friends at playgroup. Our friends from the suburbs even drove in for it, so The Boy and I got to marvel at the spaces in two of his friends' mouths, as they had both lost teeth. I don't think any of The Boy's teeth are loose, but I should find out what the Tooth Fairy's going rate is these days.

Dance, Baby, Dance

The Girl started ballet class this week. Apparently, dance class is all-the-rage among the under-5 girlie set. Perhaps because I had a boy first, or perhaps because I took a single 6-week session of ballet as a child (and hated it; what I really wanted was to wear a tutu!), ballet class was never on my mama radar until recently.

But an outpost of ARCC just opened on Irving Park Road in Old Irving Park. I love my neighborhood, but Lakeview (or even Lincoln Square), it is not. I'm thrilled to see something other than a megachurch, laundromat, or greasy spoon. And Allison has been sending her daughter to ARCC's Saturday morning class in Wicker Park for the past six months, so it came well-recommended.

When I asked The Girl if she wanted to take ballet with Allison's daughter, her answer was an enthusiastic yes. So I signed her up, and she started today. I have no idea what they did in class, and I don't think The Girl particularly cared -- she got to flit around in a uniform of pink tights, pink leotard, pink skirt, and pink ballet shoes with a gaggle of similarly dressed 3-year-old girls.

The Boy, The Baby, and I headed across the street to Starbuck's to snack on milkboxes and cookies. The Baby sat nicely in his own chair -- so cute! so big! -- and flirted with the usual Saturday morning crowd. When the girls were finished, Allison kindly brought The Girl and her daughter over to join us.