An Afternoon on Our Stoop

We have lived all over chicago. Lakeview East? Check. Wrigleyville? Check. Ukrainian Village? Check. Lakeview? Yes Ma’am!

While we were living in Lakeview (0.1 miles from the front door of Sheffields…one of the great bars in Chicago), we had Lucy. And then I got pregnant with Calvin. And we discussed if we wanted to stay in that apartment. Easily could have worked for two kids. But, there were the dudes and dudettes next door that had ridiculous parties. And the fact that our running stroller was living in our bedroom and our bikes were locked out on our back porch. And the back porch was on an alley and pretty small.

And well this little old house (Seriously my dad described it to someone as “old, small and perfect”), in Lincoln Square came on the market. We had been doing some open house looking and were actually high on another house in Lincoln Square (although it needed quite a bit of work) when we saw it. Backyard. Bedrooms upstairs. Really really ugly paint job. Back and forth on the price for a few days, and viola! It was ours. We moved in 3 weeks before Calvin joined us.

My favorite part of living in this house is Lucy’s ability to just run outside to play. If we are busy in the house she can go in the backyard as it’s all closed in (she’s only two so not quite ready for neighborhood adventures on her own). When we first moved in she would yell, “I’M GOING OUTSIDE” and run outside, and then back in and yell, “I’M GOING OUTSIDE” and so on and so forth. Now she’s getting into our front stoop and stealing all the pea gravel from the next door neighbors to make lines on the stairs, or pizza or what have you.

The below is just an hour out of our day in front of our little old house.

The picture below might not seem to be great, but this picture is who we are right now. Lucy going in and out of the house. Calvin a little fussy. Shoes off and on the stoop, a little cup tipped over. And my daughter covered in dirt and cherry juice laying in the middle of the sidewalk.

I don’t sew (yet, I just got a sewing machine from Jason’s grandmother), and the little Curious George doll that Lucy got when she was four months old needed some surgery. Grandma to the rescue.

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