My Trick-or-Treaters

My '80s Pop Star (too wet and rainy for the super fab '80's boots she had intended to wear):

My little soldier (he was pretty impressed with all the salutes that came his way):

Rapunzel (as represented in E's favorite movie, Tangled). How absurdly ridiculous and cute is that dumb wig?

And our little . . . um . . . I'm not sure what she is, exactly. We were all set for Caroline to wear the same dog costume that all my other kids wore when they were two-years-old (shown here on Elisabeth). But when it came time to put it on Caroline ran away and shrieked, "NO GOG! NO GOG! DON WANNA BE GOG!" I then had the ingenious idea of simply painting a dog face on her since, at this point, I just assumed she was scared of the costume. To the idea of face paint? "NO GOG! DON WANNA BE GOG!!!" At this point it was about five minutes before trick-or-treating, all my other trick-or-treaters were dressed and ready to go, so I ran upstairs and yanked the first dress I saw out of Ellie's dress up bin. Caroline saw the dress, smiled and said, "I be pincess." So, I guess she was a crown-less princess, or someone who, no matter what, gets her way.

Easter Recap, 2011

As long as Joe gets a vote, I think our family will be doomed treated to the early (6:30 a.m.), sunrise service on Easter Sunday. Amazingly, even little Caroline adapted just fine to being woken more than two hours earlier than normal.

Our Easter morning service was, as always, moving and wonderful after a long, somber Lent and, as a special treat, we were treated to some incredibly gorgeous music thanks to our talented organist and numerous brass players (all extremely talented volunteers).

After the service we tried for our annual family picture in front of the altar. I think we'll continue the tradition if for no other reason than to prove that getting a nice family photograph with four kids is an impossible feat.

The Easter Bunny is nice enough to accommodate our early morning schedule and hold off on his deliveries until after we leave for church. That means that following the fun of church and Easter breakfast at church we have more fun to look forward to at home. Hidden Easter eggs! Baskets! Small gifts!

After we watched the kids play around with the new loot, cut Caroline off her her jelly bean feeding frenzy and drank some coffee, I started in on getting the house ready for our guests. This year I got smart and put all the kids in the basement, which meant we were only ten upstairs, and all adults.

Shortly after that, guests began to arrive and my camera fell on my list of priorities as cooking and playing with friends and family took precedence. 

After lots of enjoyable hours spent sipping wine and, later, coffee with all assembled, Joe, the kids and I changed into our PJs at 7 p.m. and cuddled in to watch Tangled, one of the few movies everyone in our family enjoys. 

It was, if memory serves, one of the most fun, relaxing Easters, we've had in awhile.

Sick Day

Madeleine just now, on the upswing of the fever, etc., etc. that has been making its way through the inhabitants of our home.

Hank, exhibiting no physical symptoms, yet verbally hopping aboard the sick train, hoping he won't be questioned too strenuously by Dr. Mom.

Super Bowl

Remember this? It's really something when a thing we believe is possible, but unlikely, actually happens. The feelings of disbelief and excitement are almost unmatchable, no matter what the occasion.

Hank and Packer Pro Bowl safety Nick Collins.

Tomorrow the Packers will play the Pittsburgh Steelers. It will be their third Super Bowl appearance in my lifetime, but the first in which I have been a true, informed fan. Sure, in the 1996 season I knew who Brett Favre was, and that I sort of wanted the Packers to win, but my night would not have been too different had the Patriots ended up pulling out a win.

Hank and Packers wide receiver James Jones.

But this year? Oh, this year is very different. I've watched every second of Packer football these past few seasons. I feel like I know these guys. See Nick Collins up there? He sealed the deal against the Bears with a late interception on the final drive of the game we went to in January; that victory ensured our playoff berth. James Jones? He had that unforgettably ridiculous catch in the end zone against Atlanta in the playoffs. 

Hank and Packers Pro Bowl tackle Chad Clifton.

To suggest that I am excited about tomorrow is an understatement. I am excited. And nervous. Apprehensive. I want to win. A lot.

Hank and Packer running back John Kuhn.

Even though I'll be terribly disappointed if we lose, this season has been really fun. We weren't supposed to even make the playoffs, and now here we are, down in snowy Arlington, Texas, preparing for the biggest football game of the year.

Go, Pack, go!

Unspeakable

People, as a general rule, don't lead with their failings. We don't highlight them. Most people, I would say, hide those failings behind stories of success, stories of well-behaved children and academic and vocational accomplishment; we give others only a peek beneath the veneer upon close acquaintance.

Today I lost my temper. Hank delivered the final blow to a constitution that was already compromised due to two solid days of ill-behavior on the kids part. I gave Hank a chance. Go to your room. Now. It was an offer of escape. Temporary, yes, but doing so would have saved him forever, in this case, from me unleashing my anger in a torrent of ugly words.

He did not immediately go. He stood there, belligerently, and, ultimately, he stomped up to his room in dramatic fashion, meant to convey my wrongness and his rightness.

This should be an unspeakable event. I was wrong. I acted badly. He is eight, and I am not.

I forgave myself easily; this post is not wallowing. It is, for lack of a better explanation, reality. A moment all experience yet no one blogs about.

Christmas 2010 Recap

What a whirlwind of traveling, overeating and celebration the past few weeks have been.

Christmas Eve. Here. Dad and Diana are here. They bring Alex, fresh off an airplane from Tulsa. Bob arrives around the same time, but falls victim almost immediately to a harsh stomach bug and spends the evening resting.

Those healthy feast on beef tenderloin, Mrs. Butland's potatoes, fresh steamed green beans tossed with butter and lemon pepper, roasted carrots tossed with olive oil and thyme and dinner rolls (of the most basic sort: flour, yeast, etc.; nothing fancy).

After our Christmas Eve service we return home where the kids open new pajamas from their parents and a new ornament for the tree from Dad and Diana.

Christmas morning. Here. Just us. The first kid is awake by 5:28 a.m. This after a night when I finally went to bed around 12 a.m. Still, though, what parent-- even a tired one-- could be upset with excited children on Christmas morning?

Cinnamon rolls. Stockings. Coffee. Christmas story from Luke. Presents.

Christmas afternoon. Silver Lake. Dad, Diana, Cloe and Alex are present. Blake has been stricken by a stomach bug and is home resting. 

We eat, and we eat well. Ham. Turkey. Twice baked potatoes. There was more, and it was all delicious and worth every calorie.

Sunday, December 26. Silver Lake. A day of nothing. Wonderful, wonderful nothingness. Unless you were Diana, in which case it was your turn with the stomach bug flying around at warp speed. 

Friday, December 31. Oconto Falls. Doug, Wicky, Steve, Sue, Cassandra, Cody and Cedar. We arrive early afternoon and within an hour or two the kids are ripping into their presents.

Later we feast on steaks. Baked potatoes. More decadent, delicious Christmas feasting. We stay up to ring in the new year (all but Caroline).

Nice celebrations, all. 

Pictures

I can finally share these pictures that I took of the kids about a month ago. They were a Christmas gift for my mother and father-in-law, who read my blog, and I didn't want their Christmas present surprise ruined by seeing them here first.

Madeleine, 10 years old.

Hank, 8 years old.

Ellie, 5 years old.

Caroline, 15 months old.

Trick or Treat!

My witch, 

my S.W.A.T. member, 

my Tinkerbell, and

my Poky Little Puppy.

Each of the three kids is pictured next to the jack 'lantern that they carved (or, in Ellie's case, drew on the pumpkin, watched me carve, and then added those necessary touches, like hair, with marker).

Hank Turns Eight

Today our little Hanker turns eight-years-old. I actually can sort of believe it; eight isn't so far of a jump from seven. He's getting older; that fact stares me in the face every day lately.

So, as it happens, he is now eight. The little bundle of smiles with a mop of silky, yellow hair atop his head is now a young boy, still full of smiles, but with hair that is darker and more coarse.

We recounted the harrowing (and long-winded on my part) tale of his birth this morning over breakfast; a birthday ritual.

Highlights

Too much. Lately it's been a good too much, but our lives have been busy.

Some highlights from the past few weeks.

A trip to Old World Wisconsin with Dad and Diana. Our group is shown here at a stagecoach inn in Crossroads Village.



Later that night it was off to see the Milwaukee Symphony perform Mahler's Third in their season finale. The tickets were a birthday present and Bob and I had a nice time seeing the concert together.

There was a year end soccer party. Cooking. Cleaning. Late nights at work for Joe. Squeezing a run in here and there.

A trip to Six Flags Great America with the two older kids. Here they are about to board their first roller coaster.



Soccer practices. Riding lessons. Laundry. A year end preschool picnic.

Madeleine's first non-school show put on by the Wisconsin Hunter Jumper Association.




A fun family birthday party (thanks again, Tammy and Jim!). Doctor's appointments.

Our calendar is still more stuffed than I would like but, like I said, it's been a good busy.

UPDATED: Oh, and I forgot to mention-- a certain baby is CRAWLING!

Goalie

This past year of soccer, Hank has developed a favorite position to play.



He's good at it too. When he plays goalie he puts his whole heart, head and body into the game in a way that he doesn't do at any other position.

Flashback: June 2003

Moving day. We leave Janesville, the only home we've ever known as a married couple, and head east to a new everything: a new job, a new home and, eventually, new children.

(then-- that's Hank)



(now)



The June day is warm. Sunny. Joe and I arrive at our new house alone-- Madeleine and Hank are with my family. We spend the day cleaning and unpacking and, later, the children are brought to their new home full of boxes, apprehension and excitement. We eat carryout pizza.

(then)



(now)



This was to be our home for a short time. The theory was we would find something bigger. Later-- someday down the road. This house was to be a stepping stone and meant to be lived in for a few, short years.

Of course, that was seven years ago and we're still here. The boxes are gone, and so is the excitement and apprehension. Our neighbors are no longer strangers, but familiar faces and good friends.

(then)



(now)



I feel though, lately, as if the end is near. This dear, sweet home that has housed so many wonderful gatherings, welcomed home two daughters and stood comfortingly by during the death of a beloved mother, mother-in-law and nana is growing smaller and smaller as we grow bigger and bigger and, as much as I love this house, I feel we may part ways at some point.

(then)



I might be wrong. It's always easier to do nothing than to do something, and buying a home, selling a different one and moving from one to the other is no small something.

But yesterday I realized we are now finally ready to make that jump. We didn't make the jump, ultimately, but we realized we're ready. The idea of calling mortgage lenders and all that implies wasn't just an idea, but a reality and we were ready had the house we looked at been The One.

(then)



(now)



I love this dear little house and today, a day much like the one on which we moved in seven years ago, has me feeling a bit nostalgic.