I have a dear friend from high school, Jennie, who never ceases to elicit emotion from me. Many times its sheer joy and laughter, like the times in high school….when we were stupid and dumb….and we decided to steal a garbage can from a city park. Why would we want to steal a garbage can? I have no clue.  Nevertheless, we decided that’s what we were going to do with our evening, and I will never forget how hilarious it was to watch her rolling this huge garbage can from the park pavilion to the back of the “get-a-way” car and then wrestling with it to try and smash into the back seat. It is memories like this one and so many others that makes her such a precious friend.

Unfortunately, sometimes the emotion that floods my heart when I think about Jennie is heartache and sorrow (if you will remember, I wrote a post about her and the struggles her mom has been going through with her battle against cancer). And as if having a mother with cancer isn’t enough to choke me up, I’ll never forget how I felt when I found out that she went into labor 6 weeks before her due date and nearly died giving birth. She had a rare complication with her pregnancy called HELLP syndrome. Her liver was bleeding, she had an emergency C-section, and her life was touch and go for days after the ordeal. But like anything else Jennie has ever had to overcome, she fought back and won. She made a full recovery and her son is a beaming, healthy young boy.

From the moment I met Jennie, we have always had a special kind of relationship. You know the type of friend, the one who you can go weeks and sometimes even months without talking to because life gets busy and time flies by, but when you finally do reconnect, it’s like you haven’t missed a beat. That’s the kind of friend Jennie has been to me all these years. We have very similar personalities, so we have had our moments when in one way or another, we have hurt each other’s feelings. But it’s never been intentional and it’s never put even so much as a dent in our friendship. I think back to high school and the fondest memories I have, include Jennie. I reminisce about difficult struggles I’ve faced in my adult life, and she again is there in the memories as a shoulder to lean on.

I look to her in awe at all she has accomplished. She has a terrific marriage….I think I may love her hubby as much as I love her. She has gorgeous, intelligent children, and she is truly a terrific mother. She has also managed….on top of being a doting wife and mother…..to establish an esteemed career. A career I’ve always craved, but never chased….so to see her succeed in such a fashion makes me beam with pride over her success.

And no matter how insane her life gets, she still does a great job at being a wonderful daughter/sister to her family and a loyal friend to many. I can’t say that I’ve been nearly as good at prioritizing my busy life to include my friends as she manages to do. I often feel like a bad friend because I get so wrapped up in my day-to-day life that I don’t take the time to be the friend to her that she deserves. She is always in my thoughts and always on my mind, but I don’t slow down long enough to make the phone call or send out the email like I should to stay in touch. For that…I am sorry.

I truly marvel at all she has done with her life and it moves me to tears to think of who she was as a 15 year-old, high school girl…..and to look at her now….this amazing, beautiful, well educated, and talented woman. She has never failed to be a friend to me and while I know I have failed her on many occasions, I just want her to know what a gift her friendship has been to me all these years. I want her to read this and walk away knowing that I truly consider her a gift from God above, and that I’m blessed to have her in my life and to call her my friend.

Of all the changes I’ve experienced over the years….all the highs and lows, she remains one of the only constants in my life…and for that, I am eternally grateful!

Jennie, while mere words are not enough…and I am failing miserably here to articulate how much you mean to me…please know that I love you! Thank you for being you!

What a wonderful 4th of July weekend.  I don’t even know where to begin.  My husband, Corey, had a few days off of work, which doesn’t EVER happen so I think that was the best part of the long weekend.  We actually got to enjoy time together…and when he is around more, I start to remember exactly why I married him and love him so much!  It’s amazing what a few days together can do for your marriage….go figure!  We didn’t have to go away together.  We didn’t plan any fancy night out on the town.  We did simple things with family and friends and that was more than enough to remind me why he is truly my best friend!

On Friday night, we had family and friends over for a cook out and fireworks.  It’s a tradition in our house to go to a local fireworks store and load up on all sorts of fireworks to shoot off at home.  We always have people over…feed them…and then at dusk start the real festivities.  The kids have so much fun running around the house in the dark playing kick-the-can with their friends, and I love all the great memories I have from the years of this tradition.  Our entire driveway is lined with chairs and people chatting waiting for the big display to start.  Corey is a pyro at heart so this is one of his favorite holidays.  There’s nothing quite like the smell of bug spray in the air and colored smoke bombs staining my driveway to really say, “Summer has officially arrived”!

Saturday, the 4th we actually broke tradition for the first time in 13 years!  As you may notice, I am huge on traditions.  I believe kids need traditions in their lives to create familiarity and memories that don’t fade with time.  Normally, we head down to the local park and enjoy the mini carnival they put on.  Then at dusk, we curl up on blankets and enjoy the city’s fireworks show.  This year, we were invited to go up North to a friend’s cottage so we decided to take them up on the offer.  We spent the day boating, tubing, fishing from the dock, and just soaking up the sun.  That evening, we sat around a campfire, eating smores, and watching numerous fireworks shoot off over the lake.  It was a beautiful evening.  I felt a bit melancholy over breaking tradition, but I realized that as the kids get older, our traditions are going to change from time to time.  As long as we are together, making new memories is all that really matters!

Sunday was a very eventful day.  We left the house at 7:15am…and let me tell you what a feat that was to pull off.  We didn’t’ get home the night before until 11:30pm.  So waking 5 children up at 6:15am…getting them bathed, dressed, fed, the car unpacked and repacked, myself showered and ready to go, and have all of us out the door within one hour was quite a task.  We did it though, and I was so pleased with myself that I beamed all the way to Chicago.  My brother lives in Chicago so we met him there (and my other brother drove there to meet us as well) and they surprised the 4 older kids with a Cubs-Brewers game.  We have a strong rival within our family…half are die-hard Brewers fans, and the rest of us love the Cubbies!  So this game was the perfect match up to take the kids to.  We sent my two brothers off with the 4 kids and wished them luck!  My one brother has one daughter and my other brother doesn’t have any children.  Needless to say, they were in over their heads…and I was impressed with their gallant attempt to manage my herd for the day.

Corey and I, along with my parents, took Natalie and my Goddaughter (and only niece) to Shedd Aquarium.  It was a place I had always wanted to visit in Chicago and for some reason had never taken the time to go.  I finally decided that Sunday was the day to go.  The girls loved seeing the big “fishies” and I loved seeing the dolphins.  They are so precious and when I saw a baby swimming tight to her mommy…well, that made my day.

All in all, it was an incredible weekend….one not soon forgotten.  There is nothing I cherish more than quality time with loved ones.  Spending time together…creating memories…simply basking in the fleeting moments of summer…that’s what I call a great 4th of July weekend!

My brother Bradley and me

This past weekend I had the distinct honor of joining my brother, Bradley,  for the grand opening of his nightclub in Chicago, Loft Six Ten.  It was such an amazing experience and an evening I will cherish forever.

I’m sure this will shock you, but I’m not much of a socialite.  As a SAHM with 5 children, my version of a “night life” is a bowl of popcorn and a good Disney flick.  Needless to say, I don’t get out much…especially out in downtown Chicago. However, the grand opening of my little brother’s dream come true was something I wouldn’t have missed for the world.    

My brother is one of four managing members of a company that buys/renovates/reinvents/manages night clubs in the Chicago area.  He has ownership in several clubs but Loft Six Ten is his “baby”.  He named it after the large loft area in the building and his actual height…he is 6ft 10 inches tall!  Along with his partners, he bought an abandon building in Wicker Park and transformed it with vision like none I have ever seen before.  He gutted the building and turned it into a glamorous, vintage throw back of a jazzy 1960’s house of bourbon.  The exposed brick walls, black hardwood floors, vintage wallpaper, and large loft area that overlook the main level of the bar give it such a distinct vibe.  There is a DJ booth perched up in the corner of the club that looks like it is suspended in mid air.  The DJ has to climb a ladder nearly two stories to even enter the booth.  In addition, one of the most unique elements of the club was a large mural he commissioned a local artist to paint with an eclectic collage of Chicago history.  There are vivid and poignant images from Abraham Lincoln to the Chicago fire to a Maker’s Mark whisky bottle.   

The food…oh, don’t even get me started on the food.  It was to die for.   It was fine dining with an exotic and unique flare!

And if I’m being honest, I felt like a fish out of water.  Everyone attending the opening was so glamorous.  Men in suits and women wearing 6-inch heels were swarming the place.  It was “the place to be” on Friday night in downtown Chicago…and I was actually there!  I mean, I was pregnant at 19 years old and I have been a mother for almost 13 years now.  I never had a chance as a young adult to experience the sophisticated night life of a big city.  It was truly a unique and moving experience for me.  I might best describe it as…”We’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy”…

What amazed me more than anything was that all this was created by my little brother. He may be a 32-year-old, 6′10″, hot-shot business executive now, but he will always be my little brother with the crazy curls who didn’t like loud noises.   Somehow…at some point…he turned into a man.   He had the vision.  He had the dream.  He designed the club from floor to ceiling and from kitchen to bar.  He chose the candles, the tables, the menu, and he even named a drink after his daughter (my Godchild)…the “Alexandra”.  No detail was forgotten and no stone left unturned.

And seeing his dream to fruition was no easy feat, either.   He ran into road block after road block in getting this place off the ground.  He had more setbacks that you can imagine and he fought through it all.  When he finally received his occupancy license, the city denied him the liquor license.  After over a year of litigation, he finally received the liquor license, and they said his occupancy license had expired.  But through it all, he never let go of his dream.  That kind of tenacity and vigor can only be met with admiration.  

Sitting there  on Friday night watching my little brother shaking hands with millionaires, directing staff, and managing  the few mini crisis’s that arose throughout the night…I was enamored with the  man he has become.  

I’m so proud of you Bradley…I’m so proud!