Merry Christmas 2009

So this is it.

We’re at The Farm, and the last leg of our Christmas travels is coming to an end. All the gifts have been unwrapped and we’re on a roll of holiday-themed, feel-good movies. We just finished watching “The Family Stone,” which gets better and pulls harder on my heart with every viewing, and now “The Holiday” is playing. I think the latest Harry Potter film is up next.

Kates and I just finished putting Phoebe to bed. Tomorrow, we’ll say good bye to her for a few days and head home to pack our moving truck. Then on Wednesday, we head out to start that new adventure that’s been bubbling in the back of our minds for weeks …

All of it made our bedtime reading tonight of “I Love You Through And Through,” quite a bit more sentimental. Not to mention our entire Christmas run this year. Since it’s the last night I’ll spend with Phoebe for at least a couple weeks.

* * *

Christmas Eve wasn’t as chaotic as last year’s -- Kates and I brought it up a couple times this year, and I’m sure we’ll be discussing it for years to come.

We woke up to a couple inches of snow on the ground, and I got the joy of shoveling our driveway and sidewalks one last time. Wet, heavy, back-breaking stuff. … I spent the remainder of the morning doing some last minute errands in the rain and sleet, while Kates finished wrapping gifts.

By late afternoon, we were getting ready for church, and at 5 o’clock, we were in our pew.

Things got off to a decent start, with Phoebe -- dressed this year in a red velvet dress with a holly pattern stitched on the trim -- working her way back and forth between the pew, lining the seat cushion with offering envelopes and scratching each one with pencil marks. As long as she was occupied, Kates and I could only shrug our shoulders.

Phoebe’s content couldn’t last forever, though. When Kates got up to direct her children’s choir and had to stay with them for the remainder of the service, Phoebe had a fit, screaming “Mommy!” and tried as hard as she could to squirm out of my grasp. Some friends sitting nearby tried their best to distract her by waving toys and making faces until finally I had to carry her out during a hymn.

She settled down, and eventually we returned to the church service. And Kates joined us for “Silent Night” and the lighting of the candles. By that time, Phoebe had squirmed most of her energy away and she was just fine in Mommy’s arms.

We greeted our friends afterward and wished them Merry Christmases; the goodbyes and warm wishes especially sweet for me because it may have been the last I see of them.

Back at home, we feasted on pineapple teriyaki burgers and sweet potato fries -- being one of our favorite meals this year, it seemed fit for our Christmas Eve. … We got Phoebe to bed and then took pleasure in the parental duties of arranging her Christmas gifts under the tree.

* * *

Christmas morning and Phoebe was whining for Mommy at exactly 7:02. It’s as if that girl has a built-in alarm clock. It seems like it’s always 7:02 with her.

Pulled from her crib, her diaper changed, she gingerly followed us to the living room and looked around the corner to see a half dozen gifts stacked for her under the tree. Teaching Phoebe how to unwrap her gifts, however, was slow-going -- more than an hour and a half slow-going … We had unwrapped about half the gifts for her before she showed any interest in doing it herself. And even then, she unwrapped them one strip at a time, tearing away small pieces of the gift wrap one at a time and daintily laying the strips on the floor.

When it was over, Phoebe had a new pair of puzzles -- one with trucks, cars and trains, the other with shapes. She had a new coloring book, some alphabet blocks, a pink Packers sweatshirt, and some items for her baby doll -- a milk bottle, a juice cup and a bib.

The grand finale was a Fisher-Price kitchen that Kates and I found at a resale shop during the summer. It was one of those fantastic deals we couldn’t pass up. … Between the phone that beeps when you press its buttons and the stove that makes boiling sounds when you turn the knob, Phoebe was utterly occupied for the rest of the morning while we ate breakfast and packed for our annual Christmas tour.

* * *

With a snowstorm sweeping across the bottom of the state, we drove into it to get to our first gathering with Kates’ father’s family on Christmas night… A roast dinner and gift exchange there, and we were on the road again around 9:30, heading to my parents’ home.

We arrived there around 11 on Christmas night, unpacked, got a decent night’s sleep. In the morning, after breakfast, Mom wasted little time getting us around the tree to unwrap a few gifts. The ritual was low-key and an oh-so pleasant contrast to the other gatherings … Phoebe got a small play house with figurines that can be set at tea tables. But her favorite toy -- perhaps her favorite of the whole Christmas run -- is the Fisher-Price “Sing n Learn Delivery Truck.” It took her little time to figure out every time she dropped a letter through a slot in the truck that the “A-B-Cs” started playing -- or there’s her name for it, the “A-Bs” -- and we rarely heard the end of it the rest of the weekend.

Saturday afternoon. We traveled to an aunt’s home for our gathering with my mother’s family -- all 29 of us, not including the 14 who were absent from this year’s gathering. Those gatherings are always rollicking good times with lots of food, games and laughter. … Phoebe entertained with her counting, worked up a sweat playing chasing games with Elliott, her older second cousin, and came away with a new doll to add to her growing collection.

Sunday afternoon. We headed to my grandmother’s house for our annual Christmas gathering with my father’s side of the family -- that one consisted of Great Grandma, five aunts and uncles plus my parents, four cousins and three significant others, plus me and Kates, and four great-grandchildren.

Three of those grandchildren were born last year within seven months of each other, which made the afternoon a little more interesting. Last year, those kids arrived in car seats and weren’t even crawling. This year, all of them were walking and talking and taking in their new surroundings …

And there, the family had voted to abandon a gift exchange in the spirit of the true meaning of Christmas -- spending time as a family and enjoying each other’s company and conversation.

Although, gifts were still handed to the little ones. Among them, each toddler received a snugly bath blanket/towel (See picture).

Sunday night. We headed to the farm. Phoebe was so zonked she barely stirred when we stopped to say goodbye to my parents and again for gas …

As we traveled the winding country roads, we watched one of the most beautiful sunsets in recent memory. The sun was a fiery orange glow setting behind the darkened trees that line the ridges and valleys. The snow-lined roads only added to scenery. Around every bend in the road, there was another landscape so pretty I wanted to stop the car, get out and take a picture. But I had to keep driving.

Soon we turned onto old Highway 58 and Kates counted the barns. The eighth barn after the turn marks our destination …

1 … 2 … 3 … 4 …. 5 … 6 … 7 …

We traveled over the hill and there was the old farmhouse, lit up and waiting for our arrival.

“Serenity,” I said.

Inside, the house was decked out for Christmas. The tree stood aglow, adorned with snowflake ornaments and wrapped in white lace. Logs were burning in the fireplace. And the stockings had been hung on the magazine rack with care.


Once we were settled, our final gift exchange commenced with Kates’ parents, Orrin and Kelli. And once again, we were overwhelmed with their generosity … Phoebe got a Mr. Potato Head and has taken more interest in wearing his glasses than anything else. She also got a talking Elmo doll and a crate of accessories for her new kitchen.

Like a lot of things throughout these last few weeks, this one has been a bittersweet Christmas. One for the ages, you could say. With the tough year our families have endured, and all the changes to come, every minute spent together, every memory painted seemed to be more meaningful … Which made the fact that I mistakenly hit a button on my camera and deleted all of the pictures I’d taken the last few days a whole lot harder to swallow.

Here’s hoping my mind can store the images a lot longer than my camera could.

Our four days of Christmas, by the numbers ...

Miles traveled: 285, roughly -- not including the 160 or so we have to travel home tomorrow.
Mountain Dew cans drunk: 4
Gift exchanges: 6
“Sesame Street” themed gifts: 4, including an Elmo doll for Phoebe and the 40th anniversary DVD set, which I had on my list.
CDs: 5 -- including three “Glee” soundtracks, two of which are duplicate copies of Volume 2
Alphabet themed toys for Phoebe: 3
Puzzles: 4 -- three of which went to Phoebe
Candy canes Phoebe snatched out of the family stockings when we weren’t watching her on Sunday night: 7

20 months

We have a 20-month-old now.

This might have been the most exciting month of Phoebe yet …

The little girl, it seems, is learning new words every second, and she’s stringing them together in three, four or five-word phrases … Several days ago I was escorting her to the back door, having just brought her home from the daycare. We were walking onto the deck when I dropped my house keys. Without missing a step, Phoebe said, “Daddy daubummed the kees.” (“Daubummed,” you may remember, means “dropped” in Phoebe-speak.)

She’s also counting -- to 10. … A few weeks ago, Kates was traveling with Phoebe when, out of the blue, she began counting. Kates told me about it that night while we were eating dinner, and again, Phoebe started counting to 10 -- one, two, wee, woe, why, six, deben, eight, nine, ten! And every night since then, we’ve counted on Phoebe entertaining us with her non-stop counting, clapping her hands to the beat of every number …

The last couple days, she’s even started counting to 20 -- sort of. After 10, she skips to debenteen, eighteen and nineteen. … We’ll get her counting straight through eventually. For awhile, she was skipping seven and nine, too.

* * *

For Phoebe these days, it’s all about repetition. She loves stacking her blocks into a tower and pushing it to see it tumble onto the floor. She loves playing with her puzzles, pulling pieces out and putting them back in repeatedly. She also loves coloring -- still -- which consists of her pushing crayons across the page a few times. Then she steps back, gazes upon her work, considers it good and flips the page to start the process again.

She loves opening and closing doors. Some nights we’ll catch her walking down our hallway just to close all the doors to the bathroom and bedrooms. Once all of them are closed, she’ll return to the living room to continue what she was doing.

Phoebe also can be found pulling her spoons from the bin where we keep her cups and utensils, and laying them in rows on the floor. When she’s finished, she collects them in her hand and -- starts the process again. She does the same thing with her diapers.

She loves watching “Baby Einstein” movies -- repeatedly -- no matter how nuts the dingly music and flowery narration drives me. Watching them has become so routine for her that she’s learned how to turn them on. She says “TV on!” and knows exactly the buttons to push on our TV, DVR and DVD player to begin her movies. Or, she says “Moo on” and “Tiger on,” referencing the animal puppets that star in each video. … I‘ll admit, however, the videos are a wonderful distraction for her. She’ll sit on the couch, motionless and watching intently, so Kates and I can take care of other matters.

* * *

We can converse with Phoebe now in ways we couldn’t before.

She can tell us what she wants with simple words like “no!” or “yeah” or “yep” or “ok!” Or with foods -- like milk, chicken, apples and crackers. She calls Cherrios “ra-ros,” and, one of our favorite Phoebe words is “na-ma-nae” for watermelon.

She’s climbing stairs like a champ. She loves twirling in circles until she's too dizzy to stand. She runs and she gallops through our hallways. And she loves climbing on the “big bed” to read stories before she goes to bed.

She’s growing fast, and there’s no slowing her down.

Closed past, open future

After more than seven years -- and a dozen years before that, if you count my schooling -- my career as a newspaper man is finished. … For now, anyway. I won’t say I might never return. After all, I’m still a media guy -- just in a different realm.

I finished my last story around 10 a.m. yesterday. Interestingly, it was a story about the pursuit of the American Dream -- going back to school, pursuing a new job -- and local residents’ hopes and goals for 2010. ... Deleting years worth of e-mails and reference material from my computer, and cleaning files from my desk, just felt weird, but I got that done, too.

The last several days have been filled with dinners and gatherings in my honor. At first, I didn’t want the attention, but Kates reminded me I had to enjoy it and allow people to express their good-byes … Last week, a couple of my baseball buddies bought me dinner at one of our favorite burger joints, and they presented me with personalized wood bat. The next day, a group of co-workers took me to lunch at a pizza joint downtown.

On Saturday night, we celebrated at our house with Jon Troast, and then there were multiple gatherings yesterday for my last day, including a luncheon with sub sandwiches and speeches and gifts and heartfelt goodbyes.

For years I’ve watched and listened to my cohorts give their goodbye speeches -- some railed against the company and served up rallying cries for our union. Others said little more than a thank you. For weeks, I’d thought about what I wanted to say.

I'd wanted to talk about how I arrived there just months out of college, and how I sort of grew up in my time there; I got married and had a daughter. I wanted to tell the story about how great of an impression the city editor made on me when I interviewed for the job, and how he was a big reason I accepted the job -- and then left the day after I started work there, which showed how much of an impression I made on him (Insert crowd laughter).

My editor gave a schpeal about how the company hired me seven years ago to handle crime coverage and hoped I would grow to take on new things and be involved in different projects throughout the newsroom. I did that, he explained, producing features and entertainment stories, and working on our short-lived Internet Connections desk. He concluded by saying the company wished me well, although they were sad to see me go, yada, yada, yada ...

When my turn came to speak -- pfeeeeeew -- the mind went blank, and the best I could do was talk about how difficult a decision it was to leave, and how much I enjoyed working there, and how it had become a second home to me. I offered thanks for the friendships and everything my colleagues had done for me over the years. And that was it.

Last night, we celebrated over drinks and free pizza with a party at a popular joint. My cohorts and friends, past and present made appearances, all of them having a special place in my heart and memories -- Laura, Deneen, Joe, Liz, Dave, Darren, Gary. Even the chief stopped by, and a sheriff’s sergeant presented me with a challenge coin representing my fair coverage of their agencies over the years and offering luck in my new challenge.

I was blessed to be surrounded by so many people -- especially while snow was steadily falling outside and the roads were slick with precipitation.

The conversation was wonderful as we discussed my emotions and outlook heading into my new life, and reminisced on past accomplishments. There were jokes about how I should have gone off script during my last Weekday Report and instead offered a timeline of my “greatest hits” … “December 12, 2004, police shoot man armed with knife …” A true story.

There were some interesting revelations. Like when Joe informed me I was being replaced by a pool of three reporters who were going to rotate covering the crime beat. Another came when Darren inquired about my new responsibilities and mentioned I always seemed to be a person frustrated with my position. I answered a simple “Yes.” He had said it all by saying very little.

Kates and Phoebe joined us eventually -- after I had to make a run to rescue them. As Kates was leaving the house, with Phoebe and her bag in tow, she realized she didn’t have her purse -- which had her house key and car key. Kates had locked herself out of the house … Luckily, our neighbor was outside shoveling and let Kates and Phoebe inside where they could try to reach me. That took some time, though, because I couldn’t hear my cell phone above the commotion in the restaurant. Finally, Kates called the restaurant phone, a hostess corralled me and Kates explained the situation -- forcing me to drive home to unlock the house and bring Kates and Pheebs to the party.

As our gathering was coming to an end -- after we’d spent nearly three hours swapping stories, laughing and chowing free pizza -- the good-byes were bittersweet. The people around that table have become some of my best and closest friends, and I have no doubt a couple of them will remain that way.

It’s hard to say good-bye, but the world is a much more mobile place now than it was 10, 15, 20 years ago. I can’t imagine not heading back to the Chicago area to visit family and friends, to take in a Cubs game and maybe make a trip to Summerfest. Cutting Chicago completely out of our lives seems unthinkable … Beyond that, with things like Facebook and Skype, now friends are just clicks away.

Then again, I suppose all of it is easier said then done. Just like I said I’d work at a newspaper for the rest of my life.

Right now, our future is wide open.

A living room concert

It's Sunday morning ... And life could not be more perfect right now, at this moment. Even this cold, gray December day and the snow on the ground aren't pulling me down.

Kates and I are sitting here at the dining room table. She's reading a book, and I'm catching up on e-mails, reading news articles and Facebook-ing on my Christmas gift. Phoebe is at her best, happy and content, scampering around the living room, playing with her blocks, her baby doll propped at her side.

"I feel like I should be doing something," Kates just said.

"Like what?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said with a laugh.

For a mere a couple hours this morning -- a rarity these days, it seems -- we're at peace and relaxed. Kates' winter break commenced Friday, so she has no papers to grade or plans to write. The house is clean and decorated for Christmas. There's no pressure, at this moment, to get something done ... Ask me about that again in another week when we're deep into holiday gatherings and preparing to load a moving truck.

Serving as the soundtrack for this state of bliss is the music of Jon Troast, whom we saw in concert last night -- at our house. He's playing on our iPod for the umpteenth time while I write this.

Kates and I got hooked on Troast last spring as he was beginning an ambitious "100 Concerts in 100 Days" tour during which he played living rooms across the country. An independent folk-rock singer/songwriter, Troast prefers to get his music out by playing in people's homes where listeners are engaged versus smoky bars where 50 or 60 people are constantly moving in and out of the door.

I interviewed him for a newspaper story, and Kates and I started listening to his music. We fell hard for his sound -- Kates called him the male version of Ingrid Michaelson -- and we signed up to host one of Troast's living room concerts. We couldn't nail down a summer date, but Troast had some dates open this month ...

So we scheduled a performance last night and invited some of our closest, musically-inclined friends to our house for a holiday party and "A Living Room Concert with Jon Troast."

We opened the doors around 6 and had a house crowded with good friends, food and beverages by the time Jon arrived around 6:45. Phoebe, dressed in her fleece Christmas pajamas and skipping from room to room, also was entertaining.

Around 7, we moved our guests to our downstairs den, which Kates and I had transformed into an intimate concert venue, lit with Christmas lights and candlelight ... Jon set up in a corner with his guitar and went to it.

He typically plays for an hour, but I think he went for almost an hour and a half -- and I'm not sure anyone wanted him to quit. I think it's safe to say that from the first song, our friends were finding as much enjoyment in listening to him as Kates and I have found the last nine months. ... The moment he launched into that first song, all I could think about was how amazing it was -- after all these months of listening to him on an iPod -- to be hearing him and seeing him live. There's nothing like that feeling, and it's one of the things I love so much about seeing my favorite artists in concert. And the fact that he was playing in our house ...

He filled the room with a fantastic cross of upbeat and mellow songs from all four of his albums. By the end, he must've played at least a dozen songs; I was having so much fun just listening to the music that I wasn't bothering with taking notes on a set list.

His set included the nursery rhyme-inspired "Dish And The Spoon;" the amusing "Living Room Tour" about his experiences on the road; a charming tribute he wrote about mothers he observed during his living room tour, "They Call Her Mama;" a touching song about his adopted sister, "Wedding Ring;" the sing-along fave, "Heaven's Got The Time." He also sang "Sunshine Love" and “Just Enough.” ... I requested one of my favorites, "We'd Be Good For Us," by singing the chorus in front of our crowd because I couldn't think of the song title. Jon took it and played it to perfection.

Listening to his music this morning, now I'm wishing I also would have asked for some more of our personal faves, like "Loneliest Girl," "The Longest Time," "Knock Down," "You're That Way," and especially "What We Become." Another time, maybe.

Jon filled the time between songs with stories about the music video he'd spent most of the day filming, and his experiences staying at people's homes and waking up to dog kisses. He took any question that we threw at him, mostly about his songwriting and recording processes. Kates also served him multiple glasses of water.

For the first half of the concert, Phoebe cuddled on my lap, nibbled on crackers and listened quietly to the music. Eventually she started swaying on my lap, and by the end she was dancing right in front of Jon with him graciously playing to her, too. (See the picture above from our friend Raechel.)

After the last song, Jon gathered us for a group picture -- something he does at the end of each of his living room concerts. We crowded his CD table, handing over cash for copies of his music and passed the discs around for him to sign. A few of us engaged him in more conversation, and learned some of his favorite artists are Coldplay, Norah Jones, Ingrid Michaelson and Guster … Sound familiar?

After the last guest departed and we said our final good-byes, Kates and I just looked at each other and smiled … and then couldn’t stop talking about how enjoyable the evening was. We’re still talking about it this morning.

It was a perfect night of great friends, great food and great music.