What Makes a Super Mom?

An Open Letter to KK on Mother's Day

Your legacy will live with the stories your grandchildren
will add to our stories from 1973 to the present day.

Dear Mom, 

Kavaun wrote a beautiful letter to Beata for Mother’s Day, and it made me think of some of my cards to you when I was his age. 

In the note, he wrote descriptions of different categories of moms, including a “Struggling Mom” and an “Okay Mom.” In his writing, he explained why Beata is in the “Super Mom” category, and it made us chuckle. We know that a lot of times as parents, we feel “just okay” and sometimes worse. Beata laughed aloud as she read his words. 

Afterward, I read over Kavaun’s letter, and I thought of you and our life growing up on King Street. Over the years, we have shared a lot of laughs about some of your parenting antics. I am grateful you have shown me the importance of maintaining my sense of humor in this parenting game. It is evident to me that there will always be times when a sense of humor will be the only way to safely navigate parenting. 

Kavaun and Roya crack up at the KK stories from my childhood! Now, they are adding their own tales to the mix, which fills me with gratitude. 

Pretty cool that I got to share many of the ideas here in this tribute to you (linked here) with Roya June in the weeks leading up to her eighth birthday. Quarantine has provided a lot of family time and stories in our house. Naturally, you are a staple of storytime adventures. Sometimes I wish you could parent my children just so I could see if everyone survives. On second thought, Kavaun would probably love to sleep in a little extra if he were dressed for school the night before. And Roya would definitely appreciate spending time with elderly people in need of some company more than I did in the 1980s.

My mom - no one matches your spirit. Plain and simple, your legacy is guaranteed for generations because there’s no one quite like you. I took a poll - and people agree - you truly are a once-in-a-generation kind of woman. 

Roya loves her birthday locket and treasures her special connection with you. She giggles when she recounts stories about KK and your electric fly swatters and the way you discipline your doggy grandchild, Norman. Roya grins when confessing to hearing you swear on those never dull overnight stays. Our little girl has a sense of adventure and creativity, similar to yours.  

Roya June loves her special

connection with you. The 

kids also enjoy the treasures 

you share. 

Kavaun, your protege, loves his conversations with you, and the way you embrace his questions and quirks. Kavaun and Roya inherited your curiosity. Kavaun's imagination is boundless and his ideas exist in a world of limitless possibilities. He is the only person I know who matches your fire. I suppose I should also thank you because I feel more connected to my grandparents as I wonder how in the hell we will harness this fire! 

Speaking of grandpa and grandma, our connection to them has shaped us nearly as much as our connection to you (more on that, linked here). Our relationships with grandpa, grandma, our aunts, and Uncle Dan are among the greatest gifts you provided us in those early years. While my style is different than yours (let's face it, yours is a distinctive KK style unique to you), I hope I am wise enough to lean on others with your sense of vulnerability as my children approach the dreaded teenage years.  

As it stands now, both of our children agree that you are a wonderful source of strength to lean on to lift their spirits, and occasionally set them straight. 

They say you're cool because, “She always lets us stay up late, and she lets us have whatever treats we want.” Roya added, “I don’t think she's ever said no if I wanted something,” as Kavaun smirked and nodded in agreement. “She might say no, but I can talk her into it,” Kavaun quipped. They also mentioned the "treasures" you provide as part of your lore. 

We think you’re cool because somehow you instilled in both Ryan and I great “pickers” and a strong sense to recognize the remarkable character in others. We married women who are strong, independent and devoted. The mothers to our children have their own brand of fire, and they set an incredible example for your grandchildren. Similar to you, Amy and Ryan are devoted friends, always ready to help others in a time of need. Beata, like you, is smart, creative, and ambitious. Fortunately, we were in a position to better appreciate and value those qualities in our wives because of your example. 

We can’t wait to see you and share new parenting stories in person. With more time to share tales of yesteryear while we're in quarantine, I am reminded that memories can be tricky. I do like the way we share our recollections as a family - lots of laughs, some honesty, and a collective understanding that sometimes our “best” is a combination of desperation, resourcefulness, and love. 

We appreciate desperation and laughter a lot more now than we did in 1985. Sure, it wasn't always funny or desperate, but life together was usually pretty lively. 

Making memories, one day at a time, one story at a time!

A mother’s love flourishes in a lot of different ways. It can be messy, beautiful, and unconventional all at the same time. Most importantly, though, somehow making sure that your children always know they are loved is the trick all of the Super Moms have in common. 

Ryan and I got lucky because we have one of those Super Moms, and so do Kavaun, Roya, Miles, and Jude.

Thank you.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Love, 

Nick, Beata

Ryan, Amy

Miles, Jude, Kavaun, and Roya

Figuring out what to keep and what to leave behind when this is all over

The wishing well, a bike pedal, and all-star neighbors 

Roya June's wishing well idea came to life.

This past Sunday morning, Roya June made a wishing well from a small container in the recycle bin. She handed each of us a penny and directed us to write our initials on it. Then one by one, we closed our eyes, made a wish, and dropped our penny in the water. 

I wished that my little girl would always maintain her sense of humor and confidence. Even though her self-assurance occasionally fuels conflict with her older brother, we know her tenacity is a gift.

After the wishes, our seven-year-old sweetheart sprinkled sugar in the water and placed the wishing well on her nightstand. It sits next to a dish for her "pet" dog - a stuffed animal that she bathes and walks. Roya's lifelong wish is to have a real pet, and we may actually cave to the idea. 

In quarantine, her robust imagination is reserved for the things she wants to do, like care for stuffed animals, read, and draw. She also spends her free time rummaging through the recycle bin, making things, and designing bug habitats. Her creativity and whimsy bring joy to our home. 

On this day in history

Fifteen minutes later, and my 11-year-old son Kavaun was researching what happened on our birthdays throughout history. He even looked up the birthdates of neighbors and delivered his findings to them as gifts. This production was his attempt to encourage smiles and stay connected. It worked.

For fun, he also researched the US President's birthdates. 

"Did you know that a US President was born in every single month?" he mumbled from behind the computer screen. "January has the most, and out of forty-five, only President Taft was born in September."

The slow pace of quarantine suits us well.                                                         

A few minutes passed, and Kavaun felt it necessary to tell Roya that she also shares a birthday "with the guy who killed Abraham Lincoln." This could have led to tears and shouting, but she smiled and replied softly, "I guess I am a bad person, then?" She skipped away, saying, "Oh, well," as her brother looked on, surprised. 

She's learning how to match his wit, and it is entertaining.

Then Kavaun launched into other share-worthy facts. For example, the final episode of Cheers happened on Beata's birthdate (1993), and Nelson Mandela was elected President of South Africa on Roya's birthdate (1994).  

Handyman skills and good neighbors boost the psyche 

After lounging around with my family discussing birthdays and US Presidents, I shopped all four aisles of the local hardware store. The prized item on my shopping spree was my very own thatch rake. I also purchased some duct tape, lightbulbs, gardening gloves, and parts for some home projects in my socially distant face-masked excursion. When I got home, I happily spent three hours doing yard work. A couple small blisters and the exercise raking dead grass set my mind straight. 

On Sunday night, I used my new duct tape to fix Roya's bike pedal. Her advice to replace it with a pedal from her old bike made sense. I had no idea how to pull that off, so I turned to superglue and duct tape instead. 

This is how I roll.

My exploits in the do it yourself department are limited despite fifteen years of homeownership. There is one incredible highlight, though. 

Mr. Doug and his wife, Miss Kris, with the neighborhood kids in 2016. Every year,
on the eve before school starts, they host an ice-cream social for all the kids and 
neighbors. Beyond that event, Kris is known to share sweet treats with the kids often, 
and Doug has helped with several home projects throughout the neighborhood.

After more than a decade of supergluing and taping our house together, I took apart our dishwasher to fix a burnt-out motor. My two-day fix in the summer of 2018 was the Super Bowl of homeownership. I still swell with pride every time I hit start on our Whirlpool. I ordered the parts online and did the work all by myself with an assist from YoutTube. Our awesome neighbor, "Mr. Doug," loaned me a few tools so I could save our three-year-old dishwasher from the curb.  

My daughter gets excited when I pretend to be handy. The bar is so low that pouring Drain-O in the bathroom sink earns a high five from my little girl. Recently, Roya marveled at my ability to "build" a five-piece IKEA bookshelf. 

Roya is curious and regularly mimics fixing and building things. Fortunately, she also recognizes actual handiwork since Mr. Doug has been over countless times to "help" me with projects. Basically, I hold a flashlight or hand Doug tools, and he does all the work. 

Doug is one of those guys who replaces his own roof, remodels his own bathroom, and, together with his wife Kris, maintains an immaculate lawn. He makes it look easy, and Kris is known to volunteer Doug's services to friends and neighbors. He's taken on more than a few projects at our home over the years.

From replacing our water heater (twice) to putting new wheels on our lawnmower, my children have seen it all. A couple years ago, my son snuck a mini-foosball table out of our garbage pile to see if Mr. Doug could fix it. He rebuilt the beat-up frame, repaired a couple flimsy handles, and returned it to our home sturdier than it came out of the box. The kids were in awe.   

For my home projects, it always starts with Doug looking over a problem and me reciting to him what I learned online in my research on the situation. For years, when things in our house needed attention, our children used to ask if Mr. Doug could teach me how to fix it. Now, they just wonder when he'll be over so I can hold his flashlight. 

A renewed search for harmony

Whether it's playing ball with my children, fixing things, or taking the time to collect my thoughts and write, I am staying in life's moments a bit longer than usual. 

Life's rollercoaster will always exist, and right now, we are spending less time just getting by and rushing through the day-to-day. For us, the choice to slow down was made for us, and we are grateful for those people who have different stories. Frontline and essential workers continue to sacrifice while we sit down to meals as a family every day, sometimes twice a day. Through all of this, my thoughts are on them and people who are suffering due to this virus. 

Being jilted into a new lifestyle felt agonizing at first. Then, it slowly got better as we adapted. Sure, our plans change a little from one week to the next, but we found a new rhythm.  

On the one hand, the health and economic implications of this pandemic are scary, and like everyone, I wish this was not happening. I am also grateful that the trivial matters related to life outside of my home have mostly evaporated. For me, holding two conflicting ideas in my head has given me pause.

Some of the changes associated with this quarantine hold a lot of promise. I am lucky because I am in a position to find the wins. It is sobering to know that I have the privilege to get used to this differently than many others, and that is not really fair. 

Our nature walk was a success. We saw a pair of ducks,
countless birds and we talked about our encounters
with wildlife over the years. 

Over the course of the last seven weeks, we have adapted and reimagined how we operate as a family. 

We move at a different pace.  

We are learning how to embrace a new mindset and take a better approach to what we do in our daily lives. In our home, we have started new traditions and we have also started more conversations.

We enjoy more desserts, walks, and games together as a family. Sure, we also feel cooped up, get edgy, and get on each other's nerves. We continue to learn when to give space and we are finding new ways to support one another.

We expend less energy going through the motions to merely keep up. Outside of work, the time spent at home together seems a bit more meaningful than before. I don't think a lot of this will be easy to sustain in the future, but maybe we need to be snapped into harmony. For us, maybe this is one of those times?

With everyone living in a new normal, the list of things to leave behind on the other side of this pandemic continues to grow. 

My Life from 9:49 am - 9:54 am Today

Life in quarantine: A simple story in long-winded prose fit for the times

Don't be fooled by this photo.

As I sit here typing on my phone about life at this moment, I am laughing at what is going down in my kitchen. My wife is fast asleep, and our two children are alternating between bickering and giggling. It’s getting loud, but it quiets for short bursts.

“They’re fine,” I tell myself.

Upon picking up my iPad to read while they eat, I’ve noticed that my son has changed the settings, so everything is in German. 

Not up for a stroll through my settings to switch things back to English and also not wanting to let this 11-year old have the satisfaction of winning, I scroll through my photos on my phone instead. 

I see all of these lovely pictures of a happy family in quarantine. Our cooking adventures with the children, family walks, playing basketball as a family, and even some online learning success. It’s all documented so I can prove to myself that we’re doing this the right way. Smiling, cuddling, acting goofy.

Simultaneously, my sweet 7-year-old daughter stomps through the kitchen and says, “Jesus Christ!” in that under her breath, but loud enough to hear sort of way. (This language exploration is a new development by the way. I swear!) She slams her fork in the sink and threatens to take away the syrup from the table. Seriously, we are fighting over syrup?!

I am a bored dad taking a photo of a duck sighting in 
the back yard. This is what it has come to in April 2020.

The argument about whether Roya really saw a duck in our yard turned into a 10-second shouting match. I also saw the duck, but this isn’t my fight. Not today. Roya gives up trying to convince him. Good move, sweetie. Good move.

Her brother has syrup smeared on his right cheek, and his waffle carcass is strewn about his plate. There are even scraps on the table. I have no idea how eating waffles is such a monumental challenge. He gently mocks his sister and somehow gets her to smirk. 

Mind you, she made him breakfast because “he always does it for me,” which is actually true. The boy makes her breakfast and snack bags regularly. Just five minutes prior, she asked me to take a picture of the breakfast. Aren’t they cute? 

Within seconds the two of them are talking about neighborhood adventures, a business plan for cookie sales, and plans for today that include building things and “getting outside if it’s done freezing!” 

Since I don’t have a workshop, I know that building things means destroying the toy room. I’m OK with that. They might even clean it up without a fight?

Cheerios in the sink, dishes piling up and broken stuff. Life.

Upon clearing the table from breakfast, both children complain to me about our broken drippy faucet that “you keep telling mom you will fix.” Also true. (Sadly, I do not own tools. A weak excuse in the YouTube age, I know.)

Perfect timing because on cue, the semi-detached faucet falls into the sink and breaks a plate. They both remind me that I should have fixed the faucet. Their attitude about it is kind of like, “Oh well,” and they saunter into the toy room. 

Before kids, the toy room was kind of a dining area/sitting room. I laugh now as I think about how empty that room was in those first few years in the house. It was so quiet. 

So. Damn. Quiet. 

Now they are negotiating the construction of a mansion in the toy room. My children are fighting over “concepts” and how to turn a bedroom into a home office. It is clear to me that our HGTV viewing has been educational (Love It or List It is a family favorite!). 

They hear me laughing as I write from my couch, and they ask what is so funny. I ignore them, shifting my focus to my next move. My goal is to keep everything peaceful and every calculation is prudent. Weekend mornings are designed for everyone to remain quiet while my wife sleeps in after working 50+ hours per week. 

Moments of glory                                   .

Folks, real life.  

We fight. 

We cry. 

We laugh. 

We play. 

Most of all, though, we’re just doing what we need to move through our days trying not to take for granted that we’re pretty damn lucky - or as they say in German - Ich fühle mich glücklich. 

The Legacy of Tony and June

(This story began as a text message to my family. After reading it over, I realized it will live better in a blog format. It is written in a way that is not intended to reach beyond my family. Anyone who knows my family, feels connected to their own family, or knows my hometown of Ionia, Mich. might relate to the ideas here.)

.  .  .  

A Thanksgiving Tribute to my Grandparents, Tony and June Balice 

Roya June working on her 

Veteran's Day school 

assignment.

I came across this obit (Grandpa's obituary) when I was helping Roya June on a school assignment to “honor a veteran.” We chose Grandpa and since we could not interview him for the assignment, I read parts of his obituary to Roya and she had a lot of questions. 

"Why was there a war?"

"Do people still visit hospitals just to be nice?"

"What does a mayor do?" 

We had a nice conversation about Grandpa and what it means to help others in your community. Roya June is the best of Grandpa and Grandma - Grandma's namesake with an inventive and creative curiosity and Grandpa's compassionate heart.

In a sure sign that I am getting old I think more about Grandpa and Grandma and miss them in new ways. They really were remarkable people whose lives were evidence of service to others.  

.  .  .  

I loved the pace of my childhood - downtime, impromptu visits at Grandpa and Grandmas, seemingly no structure and navigating it all with the safety net of a family always there. I only knew Grandpa and Grandma at a time when the pace of life was slow - for them and for me. That slow pace was a luxury and I reach back nostalgically to capture it from time to time. 

Grandpa and Grandma, long before I knew them.

My pace does not feel slow now, but it’s probably not much different than what my mom and aunts & uncles lived as they raised young children. While I miss home and the pace of growing up in a small town in the '80s, Kavaun and Roya enjoy weekend downtime making forts, playing the piano, “inventing” robots and cheering on our favorite teams. We try to keep the pace manageable.

Our families (the cousins) are spread out now, and those little pieces of Baldie Street are reminders to me of how important it is to slow down, make time for each other and reconnect. I know that my brother and cousins have their own collection of greatest hits centered around Grandpa and Grandma.  

Living with intention seemed a bit more natural in 1980's Ionia. I used to think it was the geography - our little town with all of us in it  - that made our family so unique. That was part of the beauty, and now I realize it was the commitment to time spent with one another and the intentionality of my grandparents that made my childhood memorable. Several families live near one another, yet the closeness growing up with my family was something felt more than it was about physically experiencing life together. 

The cousins circa early '80s. We all lived within a few miles 

of one another. I am the second one from the right.

Without a doubt, Grandpa and Grandma led the way and taught all of us how to be there for one another. When I was a kid, there was no need to examine the sense of family we had - it was normal and wasn't really questioned or even thought about because it's all I knew. When you're a kid and your cousins and grandparents are fixtures in your life, there's no need to examine or understand something that is as natural as breathing. I just got to be a kid and take for granted all the support and guidance built into everyday life.  

Now, as an adult, I appreciate it and understand that together way of life and how it has shaped me. I am most grateful to my grandparents for how they lived their values and shaped my life. Of course, they had their mistakes, shortcomings, and imperfections. My gratitude is more about their way of life and doing for others - a sort of understated generosity I appreciate looking back now.   

.  .  .  

I imagine grandpa and grandma laughing their asses off about our children and all of us really. They're smiling easily without much worry about how it will work out in the end. If they were here on earth with me, they’d have faith it will all work out because when you’re old that just seems to make more sense. 

I channel Grandpa and Grandma in all kinds of different situations. I am surprised by how often I think about them. Some weeks, it's a lot. Like almost every day. It’s usually passing moments or small reminders that bring them to mind. 

Sometimes it’s at work when I try to imagine how grandpa would work in my role with the people I see every day and some of the baggage that needs untangling (some of it my own no doubt!). I viewed him as passionate and measured. Humble. Charitable. Well-intentioned. When I lose my way or get annoyed with petty people and small thinking, grandpa helps me bring it back into focus. Or at home, I think about grandma offering me perspective on my quirky stubborn wildly creative complex son. Her advice in her 70s would be so different than her advice in her 50s no doubt. 

Kavaun does things his way. Always.

Roya would have been grandpa’s favorite - she checks all the boxes and she would love his chuckle and his hugs with that five o’clock shadow scratching her cheeks. Can you imagine Grandpa with James, Roya and Edie? The affection. The ice-cream dates. The cuddling. Roya loves patiently the same as grandpa. Roya's tender heart is her superpower. It was his, too. 

Kavaun - that boy would be Grandma’s project. Grandma would be entertained by him and I imagine her re-telling tales of his childhood exploits to others with humor. Grandma would challenge his thinking, encourage his creativity and I think she would offer me some solid parenting perspective. "Some people just aren't built for obedience and compliance," I imagine she might say to me.  I also think she’d love Kavaun in a way we sometimes miss or need reminding of since we're so close to his fire. 

Kavaun might kick her ass in UNO and sneak five candy bars from the drawer, and I think she’d appreciate him in ways we don’t always recognize. I channel her sense of humor that I got to know as a young man when I feel defeated. 

I feel pretty damn lucky to have grandparents I can romanticize. 

This was off the cuff and thought it was worth sharing. 

Happy Sunday.