Bike! A Christmas Memory

I am a little girl and I am the youngest of four children and everyone is much older than me and no one wants to wake up at 6am with me to sneak a peek at what Santa brought us this year. I am already skeptical of the actual existence of the infamous Mr.Claus since finding my parents' secret stash of potential gifts in their bedroom closet. But I want to believe because why the hell not? Isn't that the best part of Christmas? The magic of it all? The faith in something so outlandish as a man flying around in a sled pulled by eight reindeer?

So I keep on believing and I beg my sisters and brother to wake up a 6am with me so that someone will be around to see me see the presents under the tree for the first time. It won't feel enough like a memory if only I am there to experience it. I need someone else there for posterity. Otherwise it is just not as real (or as fun).

My sisters are both older and in high school and love to sleep in until at least noon on the weekends. Their heads are buried under their fluffy down pillows. I whimper into their exposed ears, begging for them to wake up. "It's Christmas!" I exclaim, thinking this will be enough to send them bounding down the hallway with me. Instead, I get muttered curses and groans. Also promises that they will get up in a few hours and open gifts with me then. They tell me to get lost, sigh deeply, and toss their lean high school girl bodies back and forth deeper under the covers. The room goes quiet and I am left slinking back into the darkened hallway.

I head to the room I share with my brother. He is on the top bunk, because I am too small to sleep up there and might fall off in the night. I say his name over and over until he stirs. I hear a mumble of response. "It's Christmas! Let's go see what Santa brought!" I exclaim. The mumbling stops. Stillness. I whisper his name again, but he has learned that any response will only encourage me to keep at him. Playing dead (aka asleep) will thwart any attempts from me to drag him out of bed. I keep saying his name until it starts to sound strange, like a foreign language. That is when I give up.

I shuffle down the hallway in the early morning light and everything is shadows. When I get to the living room, I see the dark silhouette of our Christmas tree, along with new shapes and angles surrounding it. Presents!

I flip the light switch.

No one is there to see me see my new bike for the first time. But I will always remember the moment anyway. It is big. Huge! A big girl bike for sure. Training wheels are already attached to its pastel pink frame. I climb onto it and hover my small, slippered feet over the pedals. I pretend I am flying down the street alongside my siblings on their sleek ten-speeds. Finally I can grow up and ride! My deepest dream is coming true this year and I am beyond thrilled.

At this moment, I have no idea that I will end up crashing into the neighbor's huge prickly bush at least a dozen times before I can balance enough to ride on my own. I have no idea that in four short months, on Easter Sunday, I will leave my prized possession on the porch like many kids do in safe neighborhoods like ours, and it will be stolen right from our front door. I can't imagine the amount of tears I will shed when I realize the bike is stolen. I can't imagine the deep sense of loss I will experience at such a young age. At this moment, I also have no idea that I will end up falling deeply in love with biking again so many years later, when I move to Chicago, Illinois and a sweet boy I fall in love with will offer to give me his old dirt bike. I will end up riding the hell out of that old bike, dragging its heavy dark blue frame up the stairs from my basement every morning to glide through the streets to my corporate job in a big tall building in the heart of the city.

I have no idea about any of these things to come. All I know is that I am in love with my very first pink big girl bike on that special Christmas morning, and the world is absolutely perfect right at that very moment.

Oh Holy Night(s)

There are few things greater than time off for the holidays. A well deserved break from the grind is essential to one's mental sanity, in my opinion. This year, for the first time in a long time, I have many days off and no travel plans. Usually we rush to finish work, rush to catch a flight, rush to see everyone on our "loved ones list," and rush back to Chicago feeling happy but less than well rested. This year because we are getting married this May, we decided to save the money and spend a quiet and relaxing Christmas at home.

One bonus is that we will actually see snow during the holiday, instead of riding beach cruiser bikes down the beach in sunny California (which though awesome, feels strangely un-Christmas-like).

Another bonus is spending our first Christmas with our new kitty Burke. He gets a Christmas gift but will have to work for it--Adam bought an elf costume on a whim and plans to torture Burke by putting him in it and attempting to take a photo we can use for next year's Christmas cards. Claw City coming our way for sure!

Another bonus? We decided to celebrate Jewish Christmas and go get Chinese food and see a movie with some friends. A fun, low-key way to ring in the holiday the way that Adam used to spend it, before I started dragging him to mass with my family every year. I like that he is always game to celebrate how I would like to, but I also like the opportunity to spend the holiday in a way that is unique to him and his childhood memories of Christmas. This give and take is a fundamental part of any marriage, and I think we have got it down pretty well so far.

In the spirit of filling our time off with fun and productive activities, here are some things we may or may not be doing.

Stuffing wedding invitations
Watching National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
Cleaning the kitchen
Grocery shopping
Using all the liquor we happen to have in the house right now to make specialty cocktails for the holidays
Feeding our friend's awesome huge orange cat
Feeding our other friend's awesome small orange goldfish
Cleaning the bathroom
Exchanging gifts
Doing Christmas Eve yoga at a friend's yoga studio
Eating cookies people baked for us for the holiday
Playing with Burke using various methods, including but not limited to: shoestrings, laser pointer, balls of tin foil, balled up wrapping paper pieces, tiny toy mice, and a mini football that when bounced plays the University of Michigan fight song
Working on wedding music selections
Blogging
Cooking
Drinking
Exercising using our new workout toy that turns a regular bike into an indoor stationary bike
Enjoying the Chicago holiday vibe all over the city

I realize this post is a little lazy and humdrum. However, I myself am feeling a little lazy and humdrum, so it is only fitting. Happy holidays, y'all. May it be all at once productive, fun, lazy, and humdrum for all!

Sometimes...

...it gets a little tougher than you anticipated. And perhaps you want to scream. And cry. And cry and scream. Basically you want to throw a tantrum, adult-style (is there such a thing?).

It is then that a hug goes a long way. And some perspective from someone who knows you well can pull you out of the darkness and away from the edge of despair. Seeking solace is important. 

It is always a bummer when something you thought was so right, so perfect, turns out to mostly be a rather large disappointment. Picking up the pieces of the broken expectations and placing them on the shelf while you forge ahead into the unknown can be a real challenge. 

Stay strong. Try to laugh your way through it. Realize we are so small in the universe. 

This is not an epic battle. 

It is just a blip on the cosmic radar. Gone in a flash. 

Meet our new pal

This is Burke. His shelter name was Bukowski. Being fans of the infamous drunken pervert poet Charles Bukowski, we felt he was meant to be ours the moment we laid eyes on him.

We had gone to PAWS on a whim late Sunday night exactly two weeks ago. I happened to see that they were having a special 36 hour adopt-a-thon for the holidays, and it was going until 10pm that Sunday night. We had been actively looking online for the perfect feline addition to our lives, but had not actually met any candidates in person. It seemed like a great time to just go and look around. No pressure, no expectations, just a couple of people stopping by the local shelter to peruse the cats for a bit.

We did not expect to fall in love.

There were tons of cats and lots of kittens and many rooms filled with lovely furry friends. We met all kinds of cats and debated between getting a kitten (which is like having a baby in the house) and an older cat who would be more mellow and set in their personality. We decided our ideal pet would be a chill but cute and fun older kitten, 6 months to a year old if possible. There were not a ton of cats that fit that description at the shelter that night. Sure, there were lots of very nice, very friendly cats. But we did not really connect with any of them.

The shelter volunteer told us that when we found the right cat, we would just know. It sounded like what people say about finding a wedding dress. But when I went dress shopping recently, I never really had that moment. I just picked one I liked. So I had mentally given up on the idea that there might be some sort of special moment when you found the right pet.

That is when we met Bukowski.

He was curled up in a basket on a window ledge. I practically missed that he was even there. So many other kittens in the room were jumping and meowing and being cute as hell, but I was drawn to the window sill and sat next to his basket. He woke up just to look at me and nod a hello. I smiled and pet him and he started purring immediately. The volunteer, usually quick to give us the life story of every cat we even looked at, said she did not actually know much about Bukowski, only that he had been asleep most of the day. A definite plus for us, since we were looking for a snuggly, mellow kitten.

I reached into the basket and picked him up to see how submissive he would be. He curled right into my arms and clutched my shoulder, purring loudly. His ears went down and he seemed happy to be with me. I was smitten. I spent a little time with him, then handed him over to Adam. Bukowski sat on Adam's lap in a little ball, still purring. Then he jumped off, digging his tiny claws into Adam's leg on the way. Adam winced, and I held my breath, thinking that that would be the deal breaker. But Adam was not phased. He still thought the little guy was pretty chill and sweet despite the accidental clawing. The kitten walked over to the food bowl and ate for a bit, and then came back and curled up with us for a little longer. He rolled over for belly rubs and purred like a car engine.

It was time to make a decision. It was 9pm on a Sunday night, and we were not expecting to take a kitty home with us that night. But Bukowski was just so perfect for us, and we had bonded quite deeply in a short amount of time. We could not imagine leaving without him.

So the lovely people at PAWS gave us a cardboard cat carrier, a box top and some litter for a makeshift litter box, and some food to get us through the night. We adopted Bukowski and decided to nickname him Burke for short. A few signatures and a quick cat tutorial later, we were driving home with our newest roommate.

It has been two weeks exactly since the night we met Burke. It already feels like we have had him forever. He adjusted to our house quickly and mostly painlessly, and has been a pleasure to have around. Our hearts seem to have grown a little bigger and warmer since bringing him into our lives.

The shelter did not know much about his past--he was found on the streets with ear mites and ring worm, fending for himself. The thought of this sweet, loving, chill little kitten trying to live on the streets alone makes me want to weep. I feel so lucky to have found him and introduced him to the life he deserves--chilling on our couch with us, getting all the belly rubs he desires. Welcome home, Burke. You have already made us so happy the last two weeks. We can't wait to spend many more years with you.