After the Bears brought Gingerbread houses and showcased the epic results of the World Cup, they had 5 more visits to the house….

The Bears decided to dabble in Christmas one morning, trying the Elf on a Shelf cereal, Christmas festive hats, and playing with Christmas lights.

The Bears took a swim in our pool in Florida, a nod to our impending visit to Florida over Winter Break.

The Bears are all dressed and ready for a visit to Jamaica, another part of our winter vacation this year. (This trip will be covered in the next blog).

On the last night before we left for winter break, the Bears were found battling it out with other Disney Characters. This final scene was a hint that we were taking the kids to Disney on our way to our house in Florida. This is how were revealed it to them. Well, this is how we revealed it to the kids that didn’t already get told accidentally by Grandpa.

On our way to our house in South Florida, we booked a few days in Disney so we could see the new Guardians of the Galaxy ride at Epcot.

I decided not to make up a scene for the eighth night of Hanukkah because I didn’t want to drag the Bears with me to Florida.

Next blog, all the adventures the Bears were alluding to…

I love it when Hanukkah starts on a weekend. It means we have the whole day to celebrate the occasion.

On the first morning of Hanukkah, the Hanukkah Bears brought Gingerbread houses to decorate.

But before we decorated, I tried a Lemon Ricotta with Blueberry Syrup recipe from the New York Times. We ate those while watching the World Cup Finals. If any of you were not following the story of the World Cup this year, I highly suggest you listen to the Podcast “The Last Cup”. Because of this podcast, I was really hoping Argentina would win. Everyone in the house, in fact, was betting for Argentina, except Sam.

The game did not disappoint, it was a nail biter that had us all screaming and jumping in our seats. In the end, Sam was made to wear the Messi Jersey as penitence.

After the game we got straight to decorating (our should I say eating?) our gingerbread houses.

That afternoon Adam brought the kids to the stores, buying last minute Hanukkah gifts of their choice. The Lego Store, the art store, as well as Amazon and Ebay were where most of the gifts were purchased.

For dinner I had grand plans for Latkes and many more laborious foods. In the end I stuck with Brisket, home made Challah, and Green Beans.

Not that the kids cared. Dinner is just an obstacle to lighting the candles and opening presents.

The boys all opened up Legos on the first night and quickly took over the dinning room table, building.

After bedtime, I snuck down and set up the Hanukkah Bears for the next morning.

Usually when I have a birthday, I blog about it right away. But turning 50 felt different. Unlike most years, I wasn’t sure what to say about it. Imagine me at a loss for words!

It seemed like the whole thing snuck up on me, much like the grey hairs on my head.

Most days I don’t feel any older than 28, but when I stop and think about each decade’s birthday, I realize just how much I’ve grown and changed.

I don’t remember my 20th birthday, but I do remember my 21st, as that was the milestone number of that decade. I was surrounded by college friends, many who I still am in contact with today. My roommate Holly is in the 21st photo and also in the 50th photo. Now, looking back, I realize how much of the world that 21 year old girl had yet to experience. The year after this birthday we all graduated college and scattered across the globe. I was already planning my move to Hong Kong, ready to start a new adventure.

On my 30th birthday I went to a work dinner at the Ritz Carlton in Shanghai with a co-worker who later became a good friend, JR (not pictured). Having just moved to Shanghai a month before, I hadn’t built the friend group yet needed to celebrate that milestone day with. I was yet again on the cusp on a new adventure with a new job, new city, new country, new life.

On my 40th birthday, Adam took me to Alinea. I had given birth to the twins 8 months before. Adam and I were celebrating a different type of adventure, the start of life with our complete family.

When I turned 50, I realized I was not on the cusp of a new adventure. I was in the middle of life. Or maybe past the middle? When my sister turned 50 she told me there was no more denying she was on the back side of the hill, heading down. I felt the same way. Most birthdays I look in the mirror and think, “Hey, I look pretty good for my age!”. This one I looked into the mirror, laid my palms flat against my cheeks and stretched them back and upwards.The small wrinkles that littered my face, pockmarking the sides of my mouth, disappeared. I turned to Adam and said, “Hey, do you remember this girl?“

Now that I’m 50 I can no longer hide the fact that I’m aging with tricks like Spanx and face paint.

I’m also not about to embark on some new exciting adventure in life. In fact, I feel like I’m smack dab in the middle of five other people’s adventure. And I’m just the hired help. Except the job is unpaid.

This does not mean that there weren’t legions of people making me feel special on this momentous day. Adam showered me with many thoughtful gifts like money, spa gift cards, a cookbook of a chef I admire, the cake I wanted, and more. My sister and father both spoiled me with more gift cards to all my favorite places, Lululemon, La Colombe, and Fit Foot Reflexology. My friend Laura sent me a gorgeous, expensive coffee sampler pack.

And my high school group of friends, with whom I often travel with, sent me gifts and arranged a zoom call for me to open the presents in front of them. They made a slideshow of all the photos they had of me. One of the gifts was a digital photo album which I will download the slideshow into. Another was a book with headlines for every year of my birthday. Did you know Nixon was president the year I was born?

We also did lots of Calisoff birthday rituals, like donuts for breakfast, and birthday dinner at Shine Restaurant.

In the end I did feel special, cherished, and loved. And really that is more important than chasing adventure, isn’t it?

Also, the party isn’t over yet. Just like most years we will continue to celebrate for the entire month. Adam still has more gifts for me which we will be revealed later in the month… stay tuned….

A day before Thanksgiving, with most of my family members coughing or sniffling, we took COVID tests. Adam had a friend he hadn’t seen in years from his days at USC in town and we had plans to have him and his family over for dinner.

Before the tests there was the usual murmurings, no one thought they actually had it. I administered the tests in a staggered fashion. First Adam’s came back. It was positive. Next I tested Ben. Negative. Aaron, who was sure he didn’t have it…positive. Sam, also positive. After I swiveled Jack’s nose he asked if the three of us could still go do all fun the activities we had planned this Thanksgiving holiday since everyone else was sick. Then his test came back positive. Seriously, why is it no one ever thinks they have it? Mine was negative. But I still remember my shock and disbelief when my test came back positive in September of this year.

Next came a flurry of moving electronics and the tables to support them downstairs in our newly makeshift “COVID ward”. I canceled the soccer session, the eye doctor appointment, the expensive Thanksgiving buffet at the club and a two nights stay at the water park.

Then Ben and I ran to the store to pick up a very last minute Thanksgiving feast.

On the phone the morning of Thanksgiving, my sister and I had a giggle about how our mother would be turning in her grave if she knew the Thanksgiving we were both preparing. My sister is recovering from surgery and I had no time to prepare so we both had store bought cranberry sauce. Both our turkeys were not fully thawed by Thanksgiving morning. I just chucked my turkey into the over half frozen and hoped for the best.

In the end I managed to cook a small buffet of my own. I took a picture of it and let the patients on my COVID ward point to what they wanted. They made a half hearted attempt to eat it, and some complained it was tasteless, which I’m assuming (or blaming!) was COVID related.

I’m not sure what possessed me to spend all day cooking it. Why was I working away for a bunch of people with no appetites and failing taste buds? I felt like an injured runner who tries to run the marathon anyway, just because they sign up every year and can’t break from the tradition of it. I should have just ordered Chinese like we do for Christmas!

Meanwhile Ben and I ran to the art store every day in an attempt to keep him busy and away from the other kids. One of his many quicks is his insatiable need for attention. One day during the holiday I counted how many times he said my name in a day. From 9am until 9pm it was 436 times. And he took a nap that day!

Despite the blow COVID did to our holiday, in bed at night, both of us masked up, Adam gave me a list of all the things we should be grateful for. Our health, our financial security, our wonderful kids, our beautiful marriage, and even being sick during a holiday so he could actually take time to rest and recover.

I hope everyone reading this finds something they can be thankful for this week, no matter what hardships they also face. Life might not be perfect, but there is always a silver lining somewhere if you look hard enough.

This fall I turned into the ultimate soccer mom.

Last year, after Jack’s first year of soccer on the Fresh/Soph team, we signed him up for travel soccer. This meant instead of just soccer in the fall, he would play year round.

His skill improved dramatically, and he was able to get a spot on his high school’s JV team this year.

So after seeing the progress Jack made, we decided to have the twins try out for soccer as well.

I made a few mistakes with the tryout, which hopefully my dear readers will learn from and not repeat themselves. Because the twin’s school lets out later than most, the original tryout started at the exact time school let out. So instead of getting early dismissal, I decided to sign them up for the make-up tryout.

Unlike the regular tryout where they paired same aged kids 5 v 5 and watched them closely, the make-up tryout consisted of all age groups lumped together. My twins were with much older kids in a huge scrimmage. They were assigned opposite teams. Sam played his normal spot as a defender. And Aaron, who last year would score a goal most games, was asked to play defense as well.

Aaron didn’t get a change to show off his striker skills. And unfortunately, Sam had a ball kicked over his head that hit the goalpost, then hit his back, then went into the goal. He unwittingly scored an own goal.

When we left the tryouts, Sam turned to Aaron and said, “I scored more goals than you for once.”

The performance did not win them a spot. I was really bummed about it and blamed myself for not going to the regular tryout. I really felt they had enough skill to play travel. They spent many years playing soccer and had lots of extra soccer coaching.

Then later another email was sent out asking if people wanted to try out for the extra team, which is below travel soccer but above community soccer. I took them to that one. The head coached followed them the whole time and asked Adam if they were just interested in extra or did they want to play travel? Adam said they would be interested in travel.

This time, they made the travel team!

Also, this year they are old enough to play for the school team as well.

So the last few months Jack and the twins have had practice or games almost every day after school. I’ve been shuffling all over Chicago with our minivan full of snacks, shin guards and water bottles.

It’s been wonderful. As many moms with older children have told me, what you miss most when the kids grow up is all the games or track meets or whatever your kid is competing in. So I’m relishing every game, no matter how many, because I know that it will all be over too soon.

Ben’s last day of school was July 27th. As soon as he was free, we packed up and headed down to North Carolina to visit my sister.

For the trip we managed to find a fantastic Airbnb not far from my sisters house with really great amenities.

Grandpa arrived a few days before us and got some quality time with my sister and her family before we came along and hogged him for ourselves.

We did may fun activities that week.

As much fun as the kids had doing all the different activities, my favorite part of the trip was the time spent visiting with my sister, father and many others who took time out of their busy schedules to spend time with us.

The only person I missed seeing was my good friend from college, Jennie. She lives close to my sister’s house but had been in close contact with someone with Covid and I didn’t want to risk seeing her while my 81 year old father was staying with us.

It was a wonderful trip, made better by the fact that my father travelled with us back to Chicago and I get the pleasure of his company for another week.

Ben had a week and a half off between regular school and summer school. It happened while the other three kids were in school, so we were free to putz around doing things Ben enjoys most.

And what does Ben enjoy most? Art and food.

In regards to art, we tried to approach it at all angles. We checked out the Art Institute one day, which currently has an amazing exhibition of Cezanne. We also did the Immersive Van Gogh exhibit. Finally, we did a Street Art Tour.

Ben was really jazzed after spending time at the Art Institute. From Cezanne, he observed how much layering goes into painting a really good piece. He also noticed how Monet painted the light in a painting, so even if you couldn’t see the sun, you knew where it was positioned in the sky based on the paint strokes and color. Seeing Van Gogh’s self portrait, Ben had an aha moment. We talked about how miserable Van Gogh looked in the painting. As soon as Ben got home, he wanted to try to paint emotion.

Besides seeing art, Ben spend many hours creating art.

Most days food followed art, maybe a new lunch place or an old favorite, maybe a special treat for the day.

Ben also played soccerfest this past weekend. His team won one game and lost one game, and he had the full fan base there to see it all.

I hope he had an enjoyable break. Because he has so few days off of school, I try extra hard to make every day count.

Tomorrow he starts summer session. Also tomorrow, my other three kids start their summer break.

The twins and Ben participated in soccerfest this weekend. Teams play multiple games with different teams. The games are only 30 minutes long. In the twin’s league, after three games the top teams play each other for medals.

We have been to this weekend many times before. This is Adam’s 4th year of coaching (twice for the twins and twice for Jack). For Jack’s teams, they finished 1st and 3rd. The first year Adam coached the twins, the season ended early due to Covid. Which means this is their first soccerfest.

Before we got the information on soccerfest, the twins received an invitation for a good friend’s birthday party. We assumed they would choose soccerfest. After all, their father is the coach and they constitute 1/5th of the team. Soon the RSVPs started coming in and it turns out all the other kids in the class chose the party over soccerfest.

After school one day I mentioned how many of the other kids chose the party over soccerfest. Aaron immediately piped in, mentioning how you can’t let you team down and we must do soccerfest. Sam was silent. So I asked him, “Sam, if you had a choice would you choose to go to the party?”

Sam replied, “Yeah, kind of.”

I asked him if he wanted me to talk to Adam about it. He said no. So, of course, I talked to Adam about it.

I wasn’t sure how Adam would handle it, and I didn’t give him any advice. I just told him that whatever he decided, it would be the right choice.

Left unspoken was the fact that the two games Sam missed the team was scored on 6 times, more than the entire season combined. We needed Sam on defense.

Adam seemed disappointed but said he would talk to Sam. That evening, when he brought it up, Sam told him stoically, “I would prefer to go to the party but I will go to soccerfest, I can’t let me team down.”

I’m not sure I would have had the maturity or self control that Sam has at this age, but I was so proud of him at this moment.

We promised to do something special with the birthday boy to make up for the missed party.

Our first game was quite a slug, but the twin’s team pulled off a 4-2 win, giving them 6 (out of a possible 7) points for the first game.

The second game was a shut out, the twin’s team won 3-0, giving them 7 points.

We started Sunday morning with the most points for any team in the league, with 13 points. Only one other team had managed to amass as many points as we had.

Oddly, we were slotted to play the team we lost to the weekend before soccer fest. It was also the other team with 13 points.

To make matters worse, we only had 7 of our 10 players, so no one could get hurt or not show up or we’d be short.

It was a really intense game, but in the end we tied 1-1.

Which means we were both still in first place. So guess who we played in the playoff? The SAME TEAM AGAIN!

While we were waiting around for the final game, I was chatting to the organizers in the main tent. I learned that, unlike previous soccerfests, they were only handing out medals for the first place winner. (When Jack played, first through fourth got medals.) I brought this information back to Coach Adam, which he quickly used as motivation for the final game.

Before the game Adam told them it was the last game of the season so to leave it all out there on the field. And to have fun!

In the end we scored once, the other team nil.

It was an amazing season, we were very lucky to have such a great team of players, not only good players but good boys. Oh, and the head coach was kind of hot.

As many South Floridians (and almost no Chicagoans) know, we are in mango season. As a South Floridian, during this time of year you have spent months watching little green orbs sprout from trees all over yards in South Florida. If you are lucky enough to own one, every few days you go outside and see how much they have grown and discuss when the optimal time to pick the first one would be. Pretty soon they are dropping quicker than you can eat them. You start to refrigerate them to make them last longer. You give a precious few to your friends. At some point you realize you are eating the last one, they are gone again for another year.

Before we had our own mango tree, mango season was a nerve wracking month for me. My mother would drive me by trees she had seen in the neighborhood that had ripe mangos. She would stop the car and ask me to get out and pick some mangos while she stayed in the car, motor running, ready for a quick get away.

Often we got away with it, or maybe chased away by the home owner after an embarrassing interchange. I remember one night I climbed into a tree that my mother had staked out and the owner came out to shoo my mother away. She drove off, leaving me unseen in the tree. When she thought the coast was clear, mom returned for me. I was still frozen in the tree but quickly jumped down and hopped in the car. We had quite a giggle in the car ride home that night!

Finally my mother planted her own mango tree to replace the lychee tree that hadn’t fruited for some years. This mango tree was not just any mango tree. She planted a special variety known to Jamaicans as the Bombay Mango. I used to enjoy this variety on my trips to Jamaica with my mother. The Bombay Mango is stringless. It is so smooth that you cut it across the middle and twist it open, then use a spoon to scoop up the sticky, sweet filling like custard. On my trips to Jamaica I would eat so many that I didn’t have room for any other food, except maybe some ackee and saltfish. And patties and coco bread. And rice and peas with jerk chicken and plantains. Okay, I admit it, I was an absolute pig in Jamaica!

But nothing was exciting as the mangoes. I would scoop out the insides, then suck the seed dry, not caring about the sticky juice dripping down my arms. When Mom finally decided to grow these delicate sweets in our own back yard, mango season went from nerve wracking to delectable.

After my mother died, I was cleaning out some of her drawers and I found a list of names and with numbers next to it. The title was, “2019, Mangoes”. The first date was May 27th. My mother died April 21st. At the time all the kids were remote learning due to the pandemic so we were able to stay in Florida until we felt we had done enough with her estate to leave. Adam and I were planning on leaving mid May, but after seeing the list I wanted to stay to pick some mangoes before we drove back.

Perhaps I was channelling my inner mischievous Winnie (my mother’s name), but I shameless told Adam, “I really think it would help my grieving process to stay and pick the mangoes.”

He graciously rearranged everything so we could return in the beginning of June.

That year we brought home two large boxes of mangoes. When they ripened I opened them up and ate them all. Perhaps we picked them too early, but by the time they ripened they didn’t have the super sweetness they usually have when my mother brings them up to me. Or perhaps it was grief making them lose their vibrant flavor.

When she was still alive, every year she would schedule her visits to coincide with the ripening mangoes. When she arrived, we would unpack an entire suitcase of them and start squeezing for ripeness. Then my mother would watch as I sliced the first mango of the year around the middle, twisted it open and scooped out my first taste. She would watch with her eyes wide, a playful smile on her lips, enjoying every moment of my mmming and slurping, the pleasure of watching me eat it was as strong for her as the pleasure I had eating it.

So this year, when mango season came around again I wondered how it would go.

My father offered to help pick them and send them to us. I text some of my mother’s friends who were on the “2019, Mangoes” list. They met one Saturday morning, and I received text all the way around saying how much they liked each other.

Last year my father continued to ship mangoes to me, but many ended up burst and ruined in transit.

This was frustrating for my father but like the good engineer he is, he dutifully noted the problems with the shipments and adjusted. I’m happy to say that this year, with new packing techniques, almost all the mangoes arrived intact.

I’m also pleased to report that the mangoes this year taste as sweet and ripe as I remember them when my mother used to bring them up herself.

By the time the third box came, I felt I had enough to share with others, namely my two Bombay mango lovers, Sam and Ben. This time I am the wide eyed one with a playful smile, watching Ben and Sam mmm and slurp. Mom would be proud.

My double delivery turned double digits. Say that 10 times fast. As dizzying as it is to say it is as dizzying as it is to feel. Time has flown.

I got back from my relaxing weekend away with my husband (thank you Grandpa and Aunt Lara for watching the kids!) Sunday night. During our weekend away, we marveled at how easy it was to go places and do things. There is always some two top tucked away at any restaurant, the same restaurant that only has a few large tables to fit our normal number of six, and those table always seem to have a long wait. It was so easy getting up and out the door, it took about two seconds, since we were only responsible for ourselves and not checking to see if everyone was properly dressed for the weather, didn’t have food on their face, or having to pack a bag full of water bottles and wipes. I felt like I was just living my own life, instead of worrying from one meal to the next about every argument, every cut or scrape, or who needs to eat before they have a meltdown. Did everyone remember to plug in their iPads before we left?

When I picked up the twins after school on Monday, Aaron threw up all over the playground. Then he threw up again in his bed after he went to sleep that night. Jack rang us from his bathroom floor around 5am Tuesday morning to let us know he was puking and could we change his sheets as well?

So started the morning of the twin’s 10th birthday. Adam and my restful weekend was gone, now we were back to 5 hours of sleep and 6 loads of laundry.

We still went to get birthday breakfast donuts for anyone who could stomach them.

While Ben and Sam went to school, Aaron and Jack sat home all day watching movies and spitting in buckets, trying to keep down gatorade and crackers.

By the afternoon Aaron was recovering nicely and managed to keep a donut down.

We cancelled the dinner plans and I made filet mignon at home for anyone who could eat it.

The twins opened their presents from us and had cake, sans candles, since the last thing we needed in this house was more barf.

Saturday everyone was recovered in time for the twin’s birthday party, which we held at Whirlyball. It was a laser tag party.

After an hour of laser tag, the kids had an hour of pizza, sundaes, cupcakes and games. They also discovered the goodie bags which had plane flyers.

Because the twins kind of missed their special day, we continued to celebrate all week.

We went to a birthday brunch, one of Aaron’s requests was for breakfast for lunch.

And we went out for dinner to makeup for the cancelled dinner on their actual birthday. This time it was breakfast for dinner! We went to MingHin which served DimSum all day.

Happy Birthday Sam and Aaron! Having you guys in my life for the past 10 years has brought me so much happiness. I could go on and on about their smarts, athleticism, and wit, but I think my favorite thing about having them is that they are good friends with each other. I realize just how rare it is to say that about twins, and I thank my lucky stars every day for it.