Where's Your Crisis Nursery?

The little guy loves his time on the farm.

The irony of it was not lost on me when I had to bug out of a Maryville Crisis Nursery tour a few minutes early so that I could drive the two-and-a-half hours north to the nearly-half-way point between my home and my inlaws' farm to pick up my 2-year-old.

That was just after Halloween.

Eight weeks later, I'm readying myself for another trip to pick up the tot. I admit to getting pretty greedy this time. Eight weeks ago, Andy spent three nights with grandma and papa simply because we'd met at our half-way point for another purpose and it seemed like a good idea to 'take a break.' Plus, it meant Halloween night for our two older boys without the stress of having to get 'the baby' down by 6:30 p.m. and then worrying every time the door bell rang.

This time, it's been four nights for my little break. It was going to be three nights, but then I realized how much more I could get accomplished during these fast, last days leading to Christmas, without Andy underfoot. And I had a timing challenge on our originally scheduled day. How was I going to drive the five-plus hours to get there and back and still be back in time to pick up the middle guy from his standard two-and-a-half-hour preschool day?

So I asked for the extra night, and my wish was granted. And did I EVER accomplish great things with my extra day (mostly sorting out/wrapping Christmas gifts that have been shoved into a crawl space, the only hiding space I think is still unknown to the boys.)

I consider my inlaws my "crisis nursery." When I'm drawn in too many directions or simply feel I'm getting sucked into a vicsious parenting undertow, I know I have dependable and loving people in my life who will throw me a lifeline and keep me afloat.

I'm so lucky to have these generous people in my life.

Many parents are not as lucky, which is why the Maryville Crisis Nursery opened five years ago. Whether their crisis is like mine (but x10) -- or one of a more dire nature, such as hospitalization of a parent or sibling, some parents have no one they trust to care for their children.

I first discovered Maryville Crisis Nursery nearly five years ago when we'd moved (back) to the area and (incorrectly) thought we were done having children. I was looking for a worthy place to take all my old baby gear, and discovered the nursery, which could either use my stuff in its facility or sell it at its resale shop.

Halloween without the youngest brother. Scary.

Many parents are not as fortunate. Many parents have no one to care for their young children if tragedy, simply a hard turn, or plain-old exhaustion befalls them.


They may be single parents, young parents; they maybe parents who are trying to stay away from trouble that seems to come knocking at their doors on a regular basis. They may be parents just like me, but with no one to depend on. It doesn't matter. They are parent who care deeply, who love their children enough to know they need a little help.

They're parents, just like me, a Mom who needs a little help from time to time, no matter the reason.

I soon learned the the Maryville Crisis Nursery:

• is a short-term shelter for children when parents are in crisis
• provides care at no cost to families
• is the only crisis nursery in Chicago and one of only six in Illinois
• can show that 98% of families who use the Crisis Nursery indicate they are better parents through its use
• have had  more than 3,000 admissions since it opened its doors five year ago.

I'm so very thankful that my inlaws can take care of any (and sometimes all) of my children when I need them to. I'm just as thankful for the Maryville Crisis Nursery to provide the same comfort to other parents. That's why our family chooses to support Maryville Crisis Nursery.

Cheers, and happy holidays!

Getting to the Art of the Problem

When my oldest was little, and for the nearly five years he was an 'only,' every art project his brilliant, creative hands and mind engineered was a Picasso. Sometimes we could even determine what it was 'meant' to be (unlike most Picassos, which leave me scratching my head).

Many of his Kindergarten and 1st grade creations are framed and adorn our otherwise art-less walls.

But then more "art" came home from school. While the "art" didn't really improve much in the past few years, we added two children to our family, both of whom create equally beautiful one-, two- and three-dimensional artworks at preschool and with their talented babysitters. That's a lot of art.

I view them; I appreciate them. Entering any of my children's bedrooms, you will walk into a gallery of beautiful, unique and often curious works. What doesn't get Scotch-taped to the bedrooms' walls, I usually toss into the recycling bin. I'm usually narced by Someone. "You're recycling THIS?," Someone cries regularly. So I've had to get sneaky about getting rid of all the artwork, but get rid of it I do.

Do I feel guilty?  A little. I'll get over it. I hope they do too, someday.

To the many artists I am proud to call my friends, cheers! I wonder if your Moms kept everything you created as tots?