Since buying a house in the past year, we’ve shared a solid round of firsts. And last week was no different: we hosted our first formal dinner party for Passover. It was important to us that our house accommodate the ability to entertain: a large, spacious kitchen, accessible living space for after-dinner socializing, and of course, a dining room that would be home to an 8 to 10 seat table. This house really does allow for all that, but the only thing missing was the dining room table!

Madelyn came shopping with us everywhere as we shopped for, as she calls it, “the diamond room table” (if only it was a room full of diamonds!) and it was no small feat. Our first task was to make sure the table was the right size, as the room is not very long, but we also have an existing China hutch which I was not willing to part with, so the table had to match. Trying to match espresso-colored woods requires many cups of espresso. SO HARD. But we found it and then bought chairs and the whole thing was stressful, but ended with full bellies, so I suppose it was more than worth the aggravation of furniture shopping.

So with the table delivered a week before Passover and the chairs arranged the night before our Seder, we were ready to have our parents, Madelyn’s aunt and uncle, and her great grandmothers over for dinner! We didn’t host a Seder last year in our condo because we were in the middle of organizing and packing, so we joked: “Next year in Jerusalem our new house!” At the time, we didn’t even know where our new house would be and here we are, 8 months into living in it, and one Passover down. So, because we hadn’t hosted a Seder in about two years, I’d forgotten how much work it is! But it was worth it. Thankfully, Bryan and I make a good team and we have a pretty solid routine down, which almost always includes his many trips to the grocery store for forgotten items. He’s so accommodating that way.

Ready for our guests to arrive!

Everything’s ready. Just waiting for the empty bellies to fill up.

Madelyn could even get in on the action too. The last Passover Seder she attended, she was kind of worthless in the kitchen and couldn’t even eat solids yet. The Passover before that, she enjoyed whatever goods she got in the womb. So this was really her first participating Passover experience, and it didn’t hurt that in preschool, she’d learned all the songs and symbols and was totally into it. Be still, my Jewish mother heart.

Madelyn was my Charoset sous chef, but she didn’t like the noise of the food processor as it went to work on the apples and walnuts.

So instead, Madelyn helped pour [lots of] cinnamon and stirred the combo. She did a great job and loved helping!

It was so nice to cook for family and spend the evening together. The Seder was truly all for Madelyn who sang her songs very proudly for a very captive and adoring audience. We read from a 30-minute Hagaddah, but directed much of the spiel toward Madelyn and she really soaked it in. I think she’s a little scholar like her father, which delights him since Passover is his favorite holiday.

Rabbi Madelyn leads the Seder.

After Madelyn, my other baby.

All 3 of us seem to be enjoying the soup! Proud Jewish mother moment!

After dinner, Madelyn went on a hunt for the afikomen, the hidden matzah. It was her first time playing this game, and it was fun to see how excited she was from her family cheering her on. With no competition, she successfully found it, received a Minnie Mouse-tastic prize, and spent the rest of the evening singing and dancing to her Grandpa’s guitar as we gathered for music time. It’s not a true holiday celebration without a song session led by my rockstar, musical prodigy father-in-law.

We had a great time and even though I’m not a deeply religious person, I do love the holidays and sharing them with our family. What’s even more amazing is celebrating them through Madelyn’s eyes. I think that’s really what it’s all about!

Is the matzah hiding by Bubbie and Gigi??

Is the hidden matzah in the drawer??

IT IS!

One proud matzah finder.

You know you’re a happy person when you have a dance off with your matzah and your Minnie.

And this is the start of a series called: Making Old Ladies Melt Into Puddles

Madelyn force feeds matzah to her 92-year-old great grandmother.

The Money Shot. Cue the “Awwww”s.

Madelyn poses with her Uncle Michael. They love to be silly together.

All the ladies of the group snuggled under the Hello Kitty blanket, per Madelyn’s orders.

The dessert spread of fruit and macaroons. Madelyn was a happy eater!

End-of-the-night attempt to get a family shot, Madelyn’s crazy hair and all.

2013 was a big year for milestone numbers in our family. My parents celebrated 40 years of marriage, my mom turned 60, and I turned 30. Even though my parents don’t loooooooooove throwing parties, I somehow got the soiree gene and got the big idea to put together a little surprise get together for my mom’s birthday. I knew she’d never agree to going out with a group and I knew she wouldn’t want something big if she walked into a shindig she didn’t know about, so I gathered our closest family and friends to surprise her at her own house. That’s right. I invaded her home (ours was in transition as we were packing to move in May/June), took over, and threw a party.

I realized the last time she had a birthday party, it was also a surprise, but it was her 50th and she was mid-treatments for breast cancer. Goooood times. Well, she made it to ten more years and deserved some recognition and since it was her 60th, I had the idea to make it a Sweet 60th, like a Sweet 16, but with boys. And it was literally sweet — I baked and bought desserts and told the guests to eat up before coming, because this was a sweets and Champagne party!

Her actual birthday was spent on an airplane. BORING! So I told my dad that he had to take her out for a make-up 60th birthday dinner, whereby I had 90 minutes to turn their outside deck from drab to fab! Thankfully, I had a great team: Bryan helped me clean and hang things, Granny, who he picked up so she could join us, ended up plating all the yummy desserts, and I did the design work and general bossing around. Cable reality shows should be hunting us down: an old lady and her two grandkids. Who wouldn’t watch us?!

Handmade sign that I love to make for all special occasions!

I had made a lot of my mom’s favorite flavors into desserts. She loves Snickers candy bars so I made Snickersdoodle cookies — snickerdoodle cookies with chunks of Snickers tossed in. Yes please. She also got me into Biscoff spread, so I made Biscoff blondie bars, also a winner. Cinnamon coffee cake is a must at every party. And Nothing Bundt Cakes was the centerpiece of our spread, with a chocolate chocolate chip cake decked out in their signature cream cheese frosting. If you haven’t, just… yes. Do it.

I also made sure to pick up six bottles of their favorite Champy that they tasted when they were in French countryside a few weeks before. Cheers to that.

My dad texted me mid-set up while they were at dinner that my mom wanted to go to Kohl’s after dinner. Um. No. I had 20 of her favorite people gathering at her house for a 7 p.m. calorie-fest, and this discount shopping nonsense would have to wait for another night. Fortunately, my flustered father (he doesn’t do well with aiding and abetting surprises) forgot his wallet at home so they had to come home to get it. He crossed his fingers and hoped she’d go toward the back of the house where the outside deck is.

We waited out on the deck, she came down the hall, saw SOMEthing was up outside and I heard, “OH, COME ON! What is this?!” and then came outside and we all yelled, “Surprise!” It was perfect.

After greeting her public, she passed out. No really, this is a warning to any and all fellow well-intentioned children of 60-year-olds: Throwing a surprise party for your senior citizen mother will probably result in a brief period of paper plate fanning, ice water, and apologies from embarrassment. As the hostess, you will feel responsible. It, too, will pass.

With Angela, one of my mom’s longest friends who approved the Champagne selection!

It’s really too bad we can’t see her face. It’s probably whiter than Ellen’s jacket.

So after about ten minutes, my mom finally turned a skin shade more in line with a living person and returned to her party to make fun of herself for almost needing mouth-to-mouth to celebrate her own birthday. Although I think the biggest concern — and one that I can fully appreciate — is that the sweat and ice would frizz her hair that had just been professionally blown out that afternoon. I had insisted we go together as a mother-daughter birthday experience because I knew she’d be mad if she showed up to a birthday party without a proper appearance. Sure, she looked great, but the party almost killed her. Priorities, man.

I think my favorite part of the party was when Madelyn marched my mom over to the sweets table. She couldn’t see it from her grand entrance, but her granddaughter was more than ready to dig in and she knew the guest of honor had to see it before she could enjoy it.

Madelyn marches Mimi over to dessert mayhem, not to be missed!

The rest of the evening was spent laughing and catching up with favorite people. Madelyn put on a little show and we toasted my mom. My dad even classed it up by raising a glass and bragging about sleeping with a 60-year-old. It was a typical Siegel celebration.

I think my mom has forgiven me by now for almost giving her a heart attack (the party was in May. Oh hi, better-late-than-never). Hey, ten years ago it was cancer; this year it could’ve been myocardial infarction. Just trying to keep things exciting. I, however, thought the night was a total success and was touched to see the usual greats come out for a wonderful night to celebrate a wonderful — and a little delicate — lady.

Desserts and pouring Champagne: These men have the right idea.

My dad saying inappropriate things. LA LA LA LA LA LA

A good sign that she wasn’t going to kill me.

It’s not a birthday party until the birthday girl blows out her candles!

Mothers and Daughters, Siegel and White Edition

Kaplan Girls

Somebody put Bubbie (and Gigi) in the corner. Glad that my Grandma and my Granny could help us celebrate!

Madelyn and Mimi, pooped out at the end of the night.

The Sweet 60th End: Madelyn cuddling up with her Mimi and Grandma waaaaay past her bedtime.

I always love planning a good party, and my mom’s was just the warm-up for what was to come for Madelyn’s 2nd!

You know, I rarely talk about serious stuff on here. There was that time, and this time, and that time, but I rarely do serious. I’m not good at serious. I’m better at funny. In fact, there are many times that I turn serious things into funny, like this, for example, and that’s just the way I deal.

So, here I am faced with serious — not a common occurrence in my life, since I like to surround myself with uplifting and light people and situations — and this time, I don’t think there’s much room for joking around. My grandpa, Jules, my mom’s dad, is currently seeing the sun set on his life. Well, he’s not seeing much of it, but we all are. I am lucky enough to not have really seen the face of death in my own life. The only prominent death I’ve experienced is my Poppa’s, my dad’s dad, and I was 17 and not really prepared for what his decline meant. Since then, I’ve felt guilty that I didn’t spend enough time with him, that I didn’t appreciate what I had, that I should have visited more at the end. We were close and I adored him. We had lots of fun together, but at 17, so many other things were going on with my life as a high school senior, that I don’t think I understood the severity of his health status and the imminence of death, and instead, I went through the motions with the rest of my family without really being deeply affected. Of course, now I am affected and I wish I could hear his voice again and joke around with him (I’d like to think I have his sense of humor. I think he’d find me funny today).

So, as with all things in life, we take previous experiences and learn from them. Now that I’m faced with my last grandfather’s final days, I am choosing to reflect on our almost 30 years together and be present by his side and, where it matters most, by the side of my immediate family. It’s not out of obligation, but a greater sense of family and value for my roots.

I’ve been lucky to know all four of my grandparents. And after my Grandpa goes, I will still have two very wonderful grandmothers. I grew up within 20 minutes of both sets, and my positive experiences with my grandparents is the reason why we choose to stay close to both of Madelyn’s sets of grandparents.

I am in awe, more than anything, that in 2011, Madelyn was born into a family of THREE great-grandmothers and one great-grandfather! Madelyn got to meet every one of them and Bryan even explained his very similar feelings when Madelyn met his then-only living grandparent when she was four months old. He wrote about it in December of 2011, and Grandma Jeannie passed away three months later. Her yarzheit, the anniversary of her death, was actually this week, and we are going to temple tonight to commemorate it.

Knowing that my Grandpa’s life will most likely be over in a matter of days, if not less, as projected by the wonderful and compassionate Hospice nurse, Madelyn will be losing another great-grandparent before her second birthday. I am just so grateful that she got to know my Grandpa, her Grandy, and even though he’s been fairly ill for all of her life (Alzheimer’s is a mean and nasty disease), I know he enjoyed spending time with her. Even when he asked how old she was 17 times in a single visit, he smiled wider than when he wasn’t with her. He always talked about how beautiful she is, how cute she is. He stared at her with true contentment on his face. We might have walked out the door and those moments never happened in his memory, but they definitely left their mark in our togetherness.

He’s 92. He hasn’t lived a short life. With three daughters and three sons-in-law, five grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren, the youngest being Madelyn, he has seen the world and then some. And even though my most recent visit with him on Monday showed a dying man, to me, he looked like a well-lived man. He didn’t speak much — he can’t — and I really don’t even know if he knew my mom and I were there, but when he woke up for minutes from his frequent snoozes, he reached out for our hands and even had the strength to squeeze them lightly. He was cold, but I felt warmth. He was quiet, but he spoke love.

I don’t think that when he told me stories in his house or took me to my Girl Scouts square dance in first grade that I would have ever imagined I wouldn’t have my Grandpa at any point in my life. I’m sad that his time is coming to a close, but it’s a strange thing because it’s concurrently difficult and comforting. I’m just so glad that he’s been part of my life for so long, that he walked down the aisle at my wedding, adored Bryan like his own grandson, and his eyes twinkled for Madelyn.

When he’s finally gone, I will miss him, but I will be proud to take on the responsibility of talking about him and keeping him in everyone’s memory. Madelyn will know about him because we will talk about him. We will tell funny stories about him and even joke about how he chews everything — even Jell-o — for five minutes on both sides of his mouth. We will also talk about his generosity toward everyone and his well-dressed, dapper appearance. I even remember him charming all my friends in high school with a wink — always the flirt, in that cute old Grandpa way.

Life is short. This isn’t news to any of us. We always say this when something bad happens or when someone dies. My Grandpa will leave a legacy, though, not just in the people left behind, but as a reminder to me to be like him: thoughtful, kind, and loving. I think back on 30 years, and instead of taking him for granted, I know that he’s made life — his and mine — grand.

Two months before Madelyn was born, I wrote a post about installing overhead storage into our garage, and I quoted on of my absolute favorite George Carlin routines about “a place for your stuff.” There is that one last part that I separated out because it didn’t apply to that post but I still found it quite funny. Well, this part is very relevant to me now:

…That’s what your house is, a place to keep your stuff while you go out and get…more stuff! Sometimes you gotta move, gotta get a bigger house. Why? No room for your stuff anymore.

-George Carlin

That’s right. It’s time for us to “get a bigger house” because there’s “no room for our stuff anymore.”

Yep, we’re house hunting. I’m sure everybody reading this will have some advice to share or a story about their experience. My first experience buying a house was buying the place I’m currently in. I was 22, had no debt, very few expenses, no family to support, a pretty good job, and an inheritance I could use for a down payment. Seemed like a good time to buy. In 2004…

I remember the process, but my parents helped me along quite a bit, and I didn’t have a lot to think about with respect to neighborhood, floor plan, square footage, kitchen size, number of bathrooms, closet space. It was to be my bachelor pad. I was just concerned about where my TV would go and if there was room for the movie posters I wanted to put on the walls. The place I found was great — two master bedrooms (so I could easily rent one out to a roommate and offset some of the mortgage), a place for my TV and my bachelor-ready leather couch, and plenty of wall space for movie posters galore. Many poker games were enjoyed in that space, and I didn’t care about the gold-brass door handles and faucet fixtures, or the ugly-tiled wet bar, or the fluorescent kitchen lighting. Everything was fine with me. I was a homeowner at last.

Fast forward to three years later. Bachelor pad becomes married couple’s house. Roommate moves out. Movie posters come down. Cost Plus artwork goes up. Leather couch goes away. New couch replaces it. Second bedroom becomes office. Bathrooms are decorated. Laminate floors are installed. Dog moves in. Master bathroom is remodeled. We repurposed the bachelor pad into a proper family living space. Well, Alison did. I just followed orders.

Fast forward three more years. Office becomes nursery. Extra storage added in garage. Baby moves in. Kitchen is remodeled. TV is sold. New TV is mounted on wall. New couch again. Anything we could do to increase space for Madelyn and us and to make things easier and more comfortable, we’ve pretty much done.

Now intersperse throughout those six years many conversations that start with Alison saying something like “when are we going to move to a bigger place?” and me answering “I don’t know. Sometime.” It was mostly about not having the equity or the cash to upgrade yet, but it was partially about me avoiding change.

Well, the time has come. After the careful consideration I always take before big changes like this, I gave Alison the good news. We can move to a bigger place. Now is the right time for us. Let’s do it. And so we are. But it feels very bittersweet to me. I love this place. Like I said, it was first bachelor pad, my first married-couple house, and my first family home. Princeton came home to this house. We decorated my daughter’s nursery here. Madelyn’s first night away from the hospital was here.

But nine years and three incarnations later, here we are. Listing our house. Selling it. Looking for a new one. A new one! It’s crazy for me to think about. I seriously can barely get my head around it.

We’re still here though. For now. While we look. And the market is tricky, especially in this area. So we’ve been looking at about one house per day, and most of them are solid nos. But I know we’ll find one. In our price range. In a great area. With a nice big kitchen. And space for Madelyn to play. And an office. And a place for my TV.

…with room for our stuff.

20s Party in the Bachelor Pad! Notice the Rocky poster and the DVD shelf.

20s Party in the Bachelor Pad! Leather couch and more movie posters.

Bathroom Remodel! Wife moves in, so things have to get nicer.

Bathroom Remodel! Remove the soffit, raise the ceiling, add new lighting. Simple.

Bathroom Remodel! Things get worse before they get better.

Bathroom Remodel! Brand new raised counters, completely redone cabinets. Much better.

Readying for baby! Time to reorganize everything…

Getting the Nursery Ready! Gotta rearrange the room and pick a paint color!

Painting the Nursery! Pink and yellow. Yes, but *which* pink and *which* yellow?

Nursery is Ready! Madelyn can move in!

Kitchen Remodel! Let’s gut it first!

Kitchen Remodel! New cabinets. Thanks Ikea®! (Sort of.)

Kitchen Remodel! New granite countertops too! (That sink was an ordeal, but doesn’t it look nice?)

And now we’re on the market! She sure was a good house…

This past weekend was my sister’s wedding. Both Alison and I were honored to be in the wedding party as Maid[tron] of Honor and Groomsmen respectively, but the real honor was Madelyn’s as she got to walk down the aisle as the cutest Flower Girl around. Though we had been looking forward to this event for many months, I know Alison and I were also a little bit nervous about how Madelyn would do during the weekend’s festivities. There’s rehearsal, rehearsal dinner, getting ready, photos, ceremony, reception — it’s a lot for a 14-month old to take in, let alone how much her parents would have to take in while taking care of her. Luckily, Madelyn had her own entourage (read: baby wranglers), Mimi and Poppa (Alison’s parents), on the scene to offer all their help, and no doubt we were going to need it. Let’s not forget, Alison was staying overnight with the bridesmaids on Saturday, so although Madelyn’s Mimi and Poppa were there to help during the events, the homefront was now my responsibility for two days.

Everything started on Saturday, the day of the rehearsal and dinner. Though my job as Groomsmen required very little, on this day I did have a few very important responsibilities as Husband-of-the-Maid[tron]-of-Honor and Father-of-the-Flower-Girl. I had to ensure Madelyn got a good morning nap, show up on time (read: early) to the rehearsal with Madelyn and everything we would need for her (and us) in tow, cooperate with the coordinator during the rehearsal while helping Madelyn’s entourage take care of her and watching Alison run around doing her duties as Maid[tron] of Honor, take Madelyn home for a quick nap before getting her (and me) ready for the rehearsal *dinner* where I would still need to show up on time (early) with her and everything we would need, including the ” target=”_new”>tribute video I made for my sister and her now husband. Breathe, Bryan, breathe.

On the surface, this day didn’t need to be stressful, and I can honestly say it really wasn’t. Alison, being the super mom and savvy wedding professional that she is, laid everything out for me on the homefront and made sure I was prepped for success, as any good manager will do. I managed to succeed in all of my duties, except Madelyn didn’t quite cooperate on the napping front. A little bit here and a little bit there, but not the solid naps I was hoping for. So of course, she was an absolute mess at the rehearsal, crying and screaming her way down the aisle until we shoved the bottle in her mouth during round two so her cousin Abby could carry her down the aisle.

But after a change of scenery, she was a total trooper at the rehearsal dinner, even with the food coming out late, lots of unfamiliar faces, and one tired little toddler. She made it through the whole night and finally expired around 9:30pm when she just couldn’t be “on” anymore and started her “put-me-to-bed-right-now-daddy-or-I’m-seriously-going-to-lose-it-even-more-than-I’m-losing-it-right-now” cry. So I took her home, put her to bed, and readied myself for the next day, which would be similar to this day but on a much grander scale. More to bring with me, more time away from naps, more pressure to perform.

Thankfully, Madelyn is a total rock star. I was somehow able to bring everything we needed for myself and for Madelyn, show up early, get ready with the guys, help Alison get Madelyn ready, take pictures, hang out with everybody, walk down the aisle, greet everyone, take care of Madelyn, and have a ton of fun all at the same time, or at least in sequence.

In all my 14 months of being a father, I have to say, I have never enjoyed being Madelyn’s dad as much I did from the time the reception started to the time she was completely conked out in her stroller as the band played their last few numbers. It was so amazing to witness her taking it all in. I literally got to experience the wedding through her eyes as I focused so much of my time and energy making sure she had a fun time. At the dinner table she sat with me, eating off of my plate and gobbling up the sliced fruit I prepared for her earlier that day (thanks to Mommy’s preparation list). On the dance floor she danced with me, both in my arms and on the dance floor.

Aside from my sister, the beautiful bride, I’m pretty sure Madelyn was the next most watched girl in the room, as people were fascinated by her dancing. I’m thinking of patenting her go to dance move — the slight knee-bending bounce while sticking the arms just a little bit outward, every so often just taking a tumble and then getting back up to do it again. It’s “The Madelyn,” and it’s taking over for the Macarena and the Cupid Shuffle.

Between dancing with my daughter and the incredible band, I literally have never had so much fun at a wedding. I would say, to date, it was my most rewarding night as a father. And it was a pretty rewarding night for me as a husband too — those times where Mimi and Poppa or Grandma and Grandpa would watch Madelyn for a few precious moments so Alison and I could share some wedding party time alone together. Is there anything that makes you feel the love more than a freaking wedding?!?

Looking back on it, I really had such a great weekend because I got to enjoy playing all the different roles of my life — a dad, a husband, a son, a brother, a groomsman, a family member, a friend … and a wedding guest. After hearing the truly heartfelt and touching vows from my sister and her husband, I can honestly say I’m so, so happy for them that they each found the one they love to spend the rest of their life with. I found my own “one” seven years ago and could never have imagined a weekend like the one we just shared together, with our daughter, and so many people who love us. It’s always nice to get a reminder of how lucky I am and what a great life my wife and I have built together.

Congratulations Alison and Michael, and thanks for an amazing party!