Did I ever tell you how much I love Chicago? I think I did, but I’ll tell you again.
I LOVE it.
It’s beautiful. It’s a jewel resting on the sandy gold band of Lake Michigan. Something else I happen to love.
I’ve never lived in Chicago, but every time I visit I feel like I’m home.
Chicago is filled with world-class architecture, art, shopping and dining. It’s sophisticated and classy, yet blue-collar and mid-western at its core.
People in Chicago aren’t afraid of food. They serve up fat pizzas, full plates of pasta and the best steaks you can find.
Chicagoans are friendly. They give up their seats on crowded rush hour trains to tourists dragging two kids and an umbrella stroller across town.
Women in Chicago are tough. They pull on their knee-high boots (I approve of this fashion choice), wrap up in their down-filled coats and hoof it through ice, wind and snow. Some of them even ride their Vespas to work in stilletto heels and business suits.
I’ve visited other great American cities from New York to L.A. to Honolulu and other points north and south. Chicago is my favorite, and every time I go I fall in love a little more. I think my oldest is falling in love with Chicago too, which couldn’t make me happier.
We’re just back from a short family get-a-way to the Windy City, and that’s why it’s been quiet around here for a few days.
Now I’m going to bed, because I’m exhausted from all the fun and from sharing a hotel room with two kids. Co-sleeping just isn’t for our family. When will we ever learn and book a suite?