My daughter and I spent the day together in Chicago. This is another nice thing about homeschooling and the flexibility it affords: she knuckled down and got all her work done for the week on Thursday. Ditto for me, being self-employed: I got all my work done last night, and told clients that any additional requests would have to wait for Monday. Everyone was fine with that, so Daddy-Daughter day was a go.
We caught a Metra commuter train, and that hour-long part of the trip was itself part of the thrill for her. We sat on the upper deck and watched the exurban sprawl melt into suburbs, and suburbs melt into urban blight ... and then finally the urban brilliance of Chicago emerged. We went to Mass at St. Peter's in the Loop, and then had nothing in particular on the agenda.
The weather was miserable (it reminded me of a stereotypical gray and drizzly Seattle day), but she didn't seem to mind. She insisted that we go to the top of the Sears Tower, even though it was so socked-in that we couldn't see above the 60th floor from the sidewalk. "That's okay!" she assured me, eyes all a-sparkle. "I want to go in the clouds!"
So, into the clouds we went. I'll say this: at least we had the place to ourselves. Ap
art from a few foreign tourists (who all snapped pictures of the "103" floor display on the elevator, while jabbering in Asian languages), the elevator and Sky Deck were empty. We went from window to window, trying to find even the tiniest break in the clouds, but we found none. Turns out the people at the ground floor were right when they listed visibility as "zero." We couldn't even see the sidewalk, and we weren't high enough to be above the clouds. The windows all seemed to be painted gray.
But that was okay with her. She was in the clouds. We called Grandma and Grandpa, and she excitedly told them where she was. Her smile was well worth the twenty bucks we'd paid for the elevator ride.
Back down at the sidewalk, the rain had stopped. We walked all over the Loop, holding hands, gradually making our way to Michigan Avenue. We got a couple of books at the Catholic bookstore, and then had lunch at the train station before heading home. After all that walking, it was all both of us could do to stay awake on the train.
Both of us had a wonderful time, but I think we both came home more appreciative of the quiet and smaller scale of our own rural community. I want our kids to experience the things the city has to offer (even if sometimes it's nothing more than a walk in the clouds), but to live their lives in a closer-knit environment that is more in keeping with a "human" scale of life and values.
But you know what was the best part? Both of us had a full day with the other's undivided attention. Neither of us gets enough of that, and I've firmly resolved that this kind of extended one-on-one time with each of the children absolutely must become a regular feature of our family life.
We caught a Metra commuter train, and that hour-long part of the trip was itself part of the thrill for her. We sat on the upper deck and watched the exurban sprawl melt into suburbs, and suburbs melt into urban blight ... and then finally the urban brilliance of Chicago emerged. We went to Mass at St. Peter's in the Loop, and then had nothing in particular on the agenda.
The weather was miserable (it reminded me of a stereotypical gray and drizzly Seattle day), but she didn't seem to mind. She insisted that we go to the top of the Sears Tower, even though it was so socked-in that we couldn't see above the 60th floor from the sidewalk. "That's okay!" she assured me, eyes all a-sparkle. "I want to go in the clouds!"
So, into the clouds we went. I'll say this: at least we had the place to ourselves. Ap
art from a few foreign tourists (who all snapped pictures of the "103" floor display on the elevator, while jabbering in Asian languages), the elevator and Sky Deck were empty. We went from window to window, trying to find even the tiniest break in the clouds, but we found none. Turns out the people at the ground floor were right when they listed visibility as "zero." We couldn't even see the sidewalk, and we weren't high enough to be above the clouds. The windows all seemed to be painted gray.But that was okay with her. She was in the clouds. We called Grandma and Grandpa, and she excitedly told them where she was. Her smile was well worth the twenty bucks we'd paid for the elevator ride.
Back down at the sidewalk, the rain had stopped. We walked all over the Loop, holding hands, gradually making our way to Michigan Avenue. We got a couple of books at the Catholic bookstore, and then had lunch at the train station before heading home. After all that walking, it was all both of us could do to stay awake on the train.
Both of us had a wonderful time, but I think we both came home more appreciative of the quiet and smaller scale of our own rural community. I want our kids to experience the things the city has to offer (even if sometimes it's nothing more than a walk in the clouds), but to live their lives in a closer-knit environment that is more in keeping with a "human" scale of life and values.
But you know what was the best part? Both of us had a full day with the other's undivided attention. Neither of us gets enough of that, and I've firmly resolved that this kind of extended one-on-one time with each of the children absolutely must become a regular feature of our family life.
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