What are you thinking about, sweet little Elisabeth? Do you wish it were spring again? Do you miss hearing the birds chirping and the soft, warm breezes wafting in through open windows? Oh, and you're sick of your winter coat and boots? I agree, it should not have snowed again on Saturday. Having to shovel again after days of coat-free, outside playtime seemed almost cruel.
What? Am I putting words in your mouth, Elisabeth? Were you really just thinking how abominable it was to have Mommy take yet another picture of you?
Or were you thinking about how to best sneak some candy out of the kitchen? What could you do to divert me so that you could push the stool over to the counter and search through the cookie jars and find some treats stored within.
Whatever the thoughts, you sure are cute, little girl.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
A few weeks ago my dad sent me this link to a site called Newseum. Ever since I have been completely addicted to it. I check it daily, and not only do I now know what the newspaper headlines are across Wisconsin, I know what the papers look like too. And I've had loads of fun reading the headlines in cities across the country where I know friends and family reside; it's fun to see what's going on in their neck of the woods.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Spring in Wisconsin is a fickle beast. One day it can be in the seventies and lend itself to wearing flip-flops and leaving light fleeces in the closet, the next you can be outside in heavy coats with light gloves and hats.
Our warm, seventies-ish air is traveling east now. Perhaps at this moment a family in Ohio is excitedly preparing to sip their morning cup of coffee outside while the kids play with neighbor friends and bask in the sunlight and warmth while forever remarking how warm it is for March and how a single second of it must not be wasted.
I don't begrudge anyone else the warm weather. I miss it, but I accept that this is, and always will be, spring in Wisconsin. Warm one day, cold the next. It is what it is. And, in some ways, those glimpses of summer-- those quick flashes-- maybe help us appreciate the gift of them even more than those who live in the sameness of gorgeous weather day after day after day. Perhaps those warm weather residents think to themselves that the sun is too bright one day or the breeze too strong the next; something--anything-- to break up the sameness of sunny, seventy degree days. But not Wisconsinites. A a seventy-degree day (heck, sixty-degree!) in March in Wisconsin is something to behold.
But I hope that hypothetical family in Ohio (or wherever our warm weather has settled) does what we did yesterday: spend every available second breathing in the fresh scent of spring, confident that, even if it's only temporary for now, the weather will return, more permanently, in a short, short time.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Isn't the whole point of a cup of coffee in the morning, besides the caffeine jolt, of course, to have some some time to sit and sip and wake-up slowly and peacefully? To me the taste and smell is so rejuvenating, so energizing and so relaxing that a to-do list glaring back at me from (on!) my morning mug would ruin everything for me. Will this be a hot seller?
Saturday, March 14, 2009
With the advent of spring fast upon us, and the sun hanging longer in the sky each day, I felt this Robert Frost poem very appropriate. It seems no matter what work there is to be done, or what anyone on our block is involved in at any given time, at this time of year there always seems to be time to talk.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
All of you who have been reading my blog for awhile know how much our entire family adored the nature preschool Hank attended in the fall of 2006 and the spring of 2007. If you take a look back at my link I am sure you will see why.
Unfortunately, we're not the only family in the area that feels the same way about the preschool. Each year new classes are created, new teachers are hired and still, there are long wait lists.
However, due to Hank's alumni status, we were given priority registration and next year Elisabeth will be in the same class Hank was (and with the same teachers too, I hope!) when he was a student. It's hard to believe Elisabeth will be old enough for preschool (even harder given her stubborn determination to hang onto her diapers, something that could preclude her from attending if we don't figure something out within the next few months, but that's a whole 'nother post, and I don't even know if I'll make it because only parents of strong-willed children would even come close to understanding, everyone else would just think, "Well, just make her already!" to which I just have to laugh and roll my eyes. I wish!) but, amazingly, she is. Had she not gotten in at this preschool we probably would not have sent her at all, but since she did, we are all so, SO excited!
Here's my favorite post that encapsulates everything Hank did when he was a student there. I can't wait!
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Madeleine has been talking a lot lately about friends. Best friends. Apparently it's a problem that other girls might want to be her best friend when she already has a best friend. It's also objectionable that other girls want to play with her best friend. It seems eight-year-old girls are very territorial. Or, at least mine is.
This best friend talk has expanded beyond what's good for Madeleine and she seems fixated on the idea that everyone should have not just friends, but a best friend. That Joe and I say we are each other's best friends seems to have pacified her on her quest to ensure that everyone has their very own best friend, at least for now, but no one else is safe. Even little Elisabeth-- three-year old Elisabeth!-- who is in the beginning stages of forming new friendships with neighborhood children is in need of a best friend.
Today Madeleine asked Hank who his best friend was. Hank answered promptly, "You are, Madeleine." My heart melted. For a second. Madeleine told Hank she couldn't be his best friend, she already had a best friend. So Hank responded, in a tone that should have let her know that his interest level in the conversation was waning, not that it had been terribly engaged prior, by saying, "Well, I have lots of best friends. And you're one of them."
Madeleine went on to try and explain the concept of having just one, singular and only very best friend. But, honestly, I like Hank's outlook better.