So we’ve come to the #1 in my Top Ten list of Chicago milestones. I found 2251 by walking through the neighborhood when I was nannying. I was pregnant with Charlie and it was the dead of winter. Lincoln Square used to seem SO far away from all civilization, but now that we’ve lived here for 3 years, we think it’s a pretty phenomenal place to live, especially if you have little ones. Family-friendly and quiet, the charming square and fountain in the center of the ‘hood calls to mommies, artists, and hipsters alike.

2251 is the only home Charlie and Ella have ever known. When we moved in, we spent hours pouring over the perfect nursery for our baby girl-to-be. We had two cats and no babies. Now, moving out, we still have two cats, but now have two babies and all the stuff that goes with them. Sweet Ella has napped in the pack n’ play in our bedroom and spent her nights in a crib set up in the office. I’ve shared a very small closet with both girls. We’ve manuevered a postage stamp of a kitchen with no island and very old appliances.

We’ve also met and befriended some fantastic neighbors, had birthday parties in the backyard, and hosted easter egg hunts and 4th of July dinners. Charlie has drawn on the sidewalks, skinned her knees countless times, and run back and forth between here and the square, giggling all the way.

To be honest, I will not miss 2251, but I will remember it fondly and with great affection. What I will miss, are the memories our little family has made here.

Comcast is disconnecting my lifeblood tomorrow. Yes, our internet – maybe the hardest goodbye?? Due to simply running out of time, here’s a consolidated post for #2 of my Top Ten. I bet you can guess what two hospitals equals…

On September 1st, 2007, Miss Charlotte Faye Bischoff made her appearance into the world. You can see her first stats here (keeping in mind the blog was in the early stages at the time). My pregnancy with Charlie wasn’t easy – I was nannying for four kids under the age of four at the time and I had gestational diabetes, which is no walk in the park. She was breech – around 20 weeks she got comfy and wasn’t moving for anybody. Stubbornness, anyone? The good news about this was a scheduled c-section – and yes, to me, it was good news. I’ve had only positive experiences with c’s and I’ve never had a yearning to experience labor, so there ya go.

Even at birth we knew that Charlie was going to be special. She was an easy baby and an amazing sleeper – slept through the night at 8 weeks and never looked back. It wasn’t until 18 months later that her inner pill came out, but even in her frustrating moments she is a delightful child, full of life and energy and quirkiness. Like I’ve said before, I am amazed that God gave me such an amazing little person to parent.

Prentice Women’s Hospital is where both of my girls were born, but Charlie’s birth was unique in that Prentice was still in the “old” hospital – in October of ’07 they opened a brand new facility with flat-screen’s and a tricked out menu – and it felt good at the time to be there. No new “kinks” to work out, it was tried and true, even if there wasn’t an Argo Tea in the lobby.

I attempted breastfeeding with C for exactly one week before I threw up my hands. And no matter what anyone else will tell you about breastfeeding vs. formula feeding, she was a purely formula fed baby and didn’t have an ear infection until she was over 2. She has been perfectly healthy from the beginning.

Fast forward two years and little Miss Ella Monroe was born on November 10th, 2009. You can see her first stats here. Miss E’s birth was also a scheduled c (like I said, no desire to experience labor and waaaay more afraid of an episiotomy than anything else) but her entrance into the world was a bit more dramatic. My doc was afraid that she wasn’t gaining properly (like maybe the umbilical cord wasn’t running at full capacity) and I was being monitored every week as to her growth, etc. I think they must have thought that she was going to be a lot smaller than she was. Almost three weeks ahead of schedule, Dr. Roth felt there was no reason to wait (in fact, she felt like she needed to come out quickly) and I literally went home one night after a routine visit with the instructions, “Don’t eat or drink ANYTHING after midnight!”

The next morning we scrambled to make arrangements for C as the grandparents weren’t due for another three weeks. Once we got to labor and delivery, it was like a race to the finish. Baby girl was coming OUT.

I don’t think I need to tell you (as you all know what a struggle it’s been) what those first few months were like, but I should say that having Ella was an enormous blessing and seeing the two of them together has been something I never imagined. Having only brothers, watching the sister relationship unfold has been truly special. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Now, all of this talk is making me miss these two terribly. Luckily, we will be reunited a week from today. No matter what frustrations occur, they are my heart and there is nothing like looking into your children’s eyes and seeing yourself in them. It truly is a miracle.

Vann and I had a beautiful wedding. I know, I’m partial, but how can you argue brisket, country music, and blue vintage Justin cowboy boots? Oh yes…I wore them, during our reception and all through the night. They matched the blue sash on my Amsale dress (found for a steal at a wedding dress sample store in the ‘burbs) and also the cake – replicated to look like the back of the dress, bow and all. And the groom’s cake? None other than the General Lee from “The Dukes of Hazzard”.

So one day at the 20somethings 5:30 pm church service, my friend Vicky introduced me to a guy that “went to Baylor” (actually very normal – you’d be surprised how many Park people did) and I vaguely remember us meeting and chatting for a few minutes and then going about our business.

Months later, I passed this same guy coming out of church, having just given my testimony in front of the entire crowd. He had missed it, but called me later to say hi and did so randomly after that. Then one day, I just happened to touch this same guy’s shoulder and asked him how he was doing and that, apparently, was that. He asked me out (said he “knew” in that moment I was “the one”) and after a first date spent worrying I had enough cash in my purse to cover dinner (yes, I didn’t really believe it was a date), the rest is history.

Vann proposed to me at the Four Seasons hotel, in a suite that had been turned into our own private restaurant, waiters and all. He led me there under the guise that we were “having drinks” with a colleague of his (don’t ask me how annoyed I was that we had to do THAT on a date night)…so when he pulled out a keycard that opened a suite, I was understandably confused. It wasn’t until I saw the room filled with candles and the songs of Norah Jones that I knew the jig was up. And as I spent the night calling everyone to tell them the wonderful news (and staring at my ring, let’s be honest), he slept peacefully beside me, still in his suit, just grateful to be able to breathe again.

Four years later, we are best friends. We are TOTAL opposites; he is the practical, meticulous one – I’m the free spirit who can never find her chapstick or keys. He worries about how we’ll pay for our kids’ education – I worry about getting tickets to “Glee Live!”. He shakes his head in disbelief as I sell him on the idea that I really do need another hoodie to add to my ever-growing collection.

Love you, honey.

After Court and I decided to get separate places (probably in the end, the best thing for our friendship, right C?) I moved into 354 W. Dickens with my new friend Liz. We were there for about a month before our other friend Heather’s living situation hit the skids and she needed a place to live, and fast! One conversation later, Heather was moving her stuff in and she and Liz shared a bedroom…and both had queen-size beds. Yes, the two of them got to be very familiar with each other.
The best part of the whole thing was twofold: One, we were at the height of 20somethings (Park’s singles ministry) and two blocks from church so socializing was super easy; and Two, rent was the cheapest I’ve EVER paid. The total was somewhere around $600, sooo…split three ways = a very happy Mander. More money for lipgloss and purses, yippee!! Seriously though, living with two other girls was definitely an exercise in patience and sharing, two things I’m constantly trying to get Charlie to grasp. It was fun, too…really fun. When those two decided to leave me a year later and get married, my pal Angela agreed to move in and that’s where I lived until I married Vann.My whole courtship and engagement happened while I was living at Dickens. The first conversation I ever had about Vann was in that kitchen. Many bridal magazines were read in that living room. And down the street, on the steps of Chicago Pizza and Oven Grinder (the BEST pizza place EVER) I had my first “date” with my precious Em. I met this girl over a gold purse (yes, I still have it) at a birthday party and pursued her to be my friend. 6 years later, she is family to me. You could say that a lot of lifetime relationships started at Dickens. And, hey, girls, that couch we left out front because we couldn’t carry it to the dumpster? You’ll be happy to know it’s been claimed by some lucky person.

So to really tell the whole story about my discovery of Park Community Church would take far too much time than I have to sit here and write – after all, this girl still has a TON of work to do around here – SO here’s the CliffsNotes:

I think city life was far more difficult than I ever anticipated, and although I was blessed to have a roommate who put up with my shenanigans, I think I was searching for something to fill the hole in my heart. I mean, I grew up in a Christian home, and I went to a Baptist university, but I was angry at God and had just decided that my way was best and I was going to do what I wanted to do. My dear friend Scott and I would spend hours on the phone (pre-marriage of course) and he continued to encourage me to find a church community…but I was convinced that I would never find any Christians that were “cool”. I was working as a cocktail waitress at the time and making the most money I’ve ever made in my life (seriously) and didn’t want to give up my Sunday night shift (usually pulled in between $200-$300) to attend church.

Long story short, Scott led me to Willow Creek, which led me to Park, which led me to visit there one Sunday morning. It was as if God had orchestrated the whole thing. It was home, and my heart was stirred to make the changes I needed to. The rest, as they say, is history. At the time, Park had no building and moved locations twice a year. Germania Place, on Clark and North, was Park’s summer home and it’s where I met all of my dear friends from Park and eventually, the sweet man who is now my husband and the father of my girls.

So I’ve mentioned before that I’ve worked tons of jobs during my tenure in the city. The first of my illustrious career as a temp/waitress was as the receptionist of a downtown commercial photography company called AlterImage. AI had mostly male employees, so I’m afraid that I got away with quite a bit…considering I got the job through a photo shoot I did (for Kahlua, I think – yes, I was running down the beach with a guy but no, my body did not look like THAT – God bless retouching), I pretty much rolled on my own time. But they were good to me and when I got laid off a year later (gasp – for not having any photography experience!) they sent me on my way with a nice severance. What I will remember most about AI, and what I was lucky to have in a sort-of work family, was support during one of the saddest days in our country’s history, September 11th, 2001. It was at AlterImage that I witnessed those events, frozen in front of the client lounge TV with my co-workers. I used to ride the Halsted bus to the west loop, 45 minutes approximately, and that morning I had my headphones on, as was usual – listening to Mancow in the Mornings (sort of a poor man’s Howard Stern) – and I’m sure I was zoned out because I vaguely remember the mention of planes and the World Trade Center, but didn’t give it much thought until I set my stuff down on my desk and got the lounge stocked for client meetings and lunches, as I did every morning. I turned on the TV, and it was then that I realized Matt Lauer was talking about something more serious than I had anticipated.To say that I was scared would be an understatement. What was I, 22 or 23? Family spread apart all over the country, friends in NYC…Phone lines where jammed, my co-worker Jackie was sobbing (her parents lived in Manhattan), and I was desperately trying to get a hold of Court, (who incidentally WORKED in the loop) so that we could figure out a meeting place. When the mass downtown exodus happened, my co-workers and I were west enough to get home pretty quickly, and when I did hook up with C we spent the afternoon and evening with our girlfriends, eating bologna sandwiches and trying to process the absoluteness of what had happened.All I really remember about the weeks following was being glued to the TV with Court and watching Peter Jennings (God bless him) 24-7. He would literally be collapsing with exhaustion before he let someone relieve him…and we got really attached to this man…this man who we hoped would bring us good news. We sat on our front porch with lighters, in a grass-roots memorial to the fallen Americans. We cried. We prayed. President Bush was my hero. I spent hours on the phone with my Dad, talking through Revelations and Christ’s return. It was an intense and terribly frightening time.So, when I drove past AlterImage this past week, the memory of 9/11 washed over me like water. Who’s to say if the landscape of downtown Chicago would have changed that day as well? Living in constant fear those first few weeks was something I will never forget. This picture reminds me of what we’ve lost and what we are still blessed to have.

10 months later, Court and I moved into 907 W. Roscoe. The heart of Boystown (if you live in Chicago, you know where that is and what that entails) and steps away from Roscoe’s, the hugely popular gay bar. I can’t tell you how much time we spent there…it was a stone’s throw from 907 and therefore easily manuevered after a long night of…socializing.
907 was really one of the worst apartments that I’ve ever lived in. Structurally it was a total disaster – the foundation had sunk, so the whole place was at an angle. The bedroom doors would swing open by themselves. I should point out that the above condo was NOT the 907 that Court and I remember. I guess ole Dan Carney (the weirdest landlord EVER) decided to finally let the old place go and make a little cash in the process. The best part of 907 was the generous balcony out back…perfect for parties and sunbathing. There was central air, and wait for it – a FREE stackable washer and dryer – which is a miracle in and of itself.