What Happened

On the left, a googled X-ray picture of the shoulder, as it's meant to look.

On the right, Madeleine's shoulder, as it looked last night.

She fell, on some ice. There is no great story; no exciting tricks that went bad. Simply, the ice was slippery and Madeleine fell, very unluckily, directly onto her left shoulder. That is all.

At the hospital, doctors conferred and, eventually, the orthopedic doctor on call left the confines of his home, finding it necessary to inspect Madeleine himself, in person. Her bone was manipulated and pushed back into place and, the hope is, that it will not drift out of place.

Tomorrow she sees another specialist. But, for now, she is home sporting neither a cast or an immobilizer. Instead she is armed with a make-shift sling, an ACE bandage, a heavy dosage of pain killers and direction to hold that arm still.

Madeleine is, and has been, impressively brave throughout all of this.

Today reality has slowly been seeping through the Percocet haze and into the sleep deprived brain. Yet still, the sun shines and Madeleine smiles. If you think of her, I know she would appreciate your prayers.

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.

A Kayak Ride

All things are artificial, for nature is the art of God.

--Thomas Browne

On Wednesday I pushed my kayak off the sandy shore and paddled across Black Bay to the opposite shore. My eldest daughter accompanied me in a long, blue kayak, a stark contrast to my short red one. We wore jeans. Fleeces. Tennis shoes. It was cold and gray, and ode, perhaps, to our proximity to the Canadian border, a country whose very mention, fairly or not, conjures up visions of cold. It was a lengthy kayak ride considering the late afternoon hour, but the water was still and quiet, the wind having finally dissipated and moved on to a more easterly location, and it was too wonderful to do anything but paddle, then drift and then observe and take in our surroundings. 

Opposite from our starting point was a Minnesota state forest. To the east a small island, with a lone inhabitant, and beyond the island, a swampish shore. To the west was a small channel, which days earlier had taken our party, by pontoon boat, into the larger areas of Lake Vermillion, but was quiet that day, with a few lone fisherman braving the cold of the weekday, and none making their way into Black Bay, on the northern most end of the lake. 

Though we had seen scant boat traffic throughout the week since our arrival the Saturday prior, that Wednesday saw none. We paddled to a small rock island and floated, breathing in the smells of the lake and the pine trees and the crisp air. The slight breeze ruffled leaves on birch trees, creating a quiet, rhythmic duet with the waves licking the sides of our boats. 

Eventually it was time to turn back. Dinner, overlooking the lake, was to be eaten, campfires to be made and inky, pitch black night skies with bright, glowing stars were to be enjoyed, as they had been the nights prior. But we didn't feel particularly hurried or rushed. We took our time, exploring another rock island and, eventually, paddling and drifting our way back to our home base.

The week was a great one, one with lots of excitement (tubing!) and lots of relaxing (morning coffee on the pier), but that kayak ride was a standout moment, and one I won't soon forget.

Look Who's Eleven

--Children are unpredictable. You never know what inconsistency they're going to catch you in next. 
Franklin P. Jones

I have managed to acknowledge all my kids on their birthdays here on this blog, give or take a day, since this blog's inception. 

Until now.

Maybe, like my daughter, my blog is maturing. Growing.

We'll see. In any event, my eldest, my Madeleine, is now eleven.

The Madeleine Eye Roll

Ah, the Madeleine eye roll. Many times have I seen it, or had it directed my way, but never have I seen it captured pictorially. This eye roll, the I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that laugh, it will be how I remember Madeleine's childhood. 

And now I can prove it to her children.

Horse Dreams

"There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man."  

~Winston Churchill

I confess: I often dream of moving out of this picturesque suburb and moving north. Not too far north, but north enough for a few acres. An outbuilding.

And a horse (or two, since horses are social creatures, and need company).

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.

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).

Wedding Pictures

Many (most?) of you have seen the pictures I posted of my sister's wedding on Facebook, however a few of you have mentioned you're not on Facebook and you'd like to see pictures already.

The wedding site at Abbey Springs in Fontana, Wisconsin (that's Lake Geneva in the background).

My dad with my sister and me.

Diana with the prettiest junior bridesmaid and flower girl I've ever seen.

The bride being given in marriage by my dad.

Joe and Caroline at the reception.

And, finally, Cloe and Blake's first dance.

Madeleine Birthday Recap

The birthday girl, on her birthday. She requested tacos, Spanish rice and fresh sweet corn.




The birthday girl's party, a few days after the actual day, celebrating with family and friends.









The first birthday in Birthday Season is in the tank. Next up, in a few weeks, is Caroline. Then Joe, Elisabeth and Hank following shortly thereafter. I'll be back to blogging in November, I think. ;)

Double Digits

This girl, my Madeleine, is now ten years old. I don't think that's really acceptable, but that's how old the calendar says she is.

I won't retell what's been told; new readers of my blog can find her birth story here.

All readers, though, can delight with me for a moment as I shine the spotlight Madeleine's way.

She is, on the whole, the child who is the most similar to me. This can cause consternation: butting heads, easy irritation with each other's faults and lots of arguing. It also means I know which of my kids will want to sit and read with me, silently, for hours at a time. Or shop with me. Or understands why I need quiet time in the kitchen or in front of computer. She knows, because she has those outlets too. I blog; she writes story upon story in spiral notebooks scattered about the house. Good, interesting and detailed stories they are, too. I cook; she sets up elaborate villages and houses for her dolls. I read; she reads.

Madeleine is now ten, and while the calendar tells me she's one year older than she was two days ago, the date means very little beyond cake, presents and a chance to celebrate Madeleine. I've seen her changing and growing up for months now. She is more mature than she was last year-- taking it upon herself to notice a small child at the park unable to reach the swing and running over the help her climb in, and then, to stand there and gently push the girl. She is becoming more private than she was last year-- she used to regal everyone with every detail about everything that she experienced and thought, now she keeps some things to herself. She is no longer content to be treated like a child; she constantly struggles to be given more freedom but struggles with the how-tos of the freedom when she receives it. She's groping along, figuring out what being somewhere between a little girl and a preteen means, and where she fits.

I know, I'm biased, but I think she's pretty great.