If You Give a Six-Year-Old a Camera...

I suppose there's a reason that Hank doesn't like going to bed an hour before Madeleine. No matter how much we assure him there's not, a small part of him must know there's fun to be had downstairs long after he and Elisabeth are asleep.

The other night was no exception.

As usual, Madeleine and I (or sometimes Superdad and Madeleine) read books together.


Out comes Superdad with the camera. Which then prompts this:

"Mom, can I have a turn taking some pictures?"

My book is nearing the end of its climax. Yes, anything you want! Just, please, let me finish my book!

Her finished product is... uh... interesting.


And maybe even a touch embarrassing.


And now my book is over and my memory card is almost full. Time for bed. Good-night, Madeleine.

Flashback: Spring/Summer 2006

It's almost spring; the snow is melting, the mercury is rising and the forecast looks good.

No, still far too soon to contemplate getting out in the the gardens, but it doesn't hurt to dream of what's just beyond the bend.

My backyard.


The back end of my backyard. This is my favorite tree.

Madeleine standing by my rose tree that I bought last year. Unlike my mom, I don't have a propensity for gardening and can never remember what anything is called, but I especially liked this rose tree because it was wonderfully fragrant. I have it wintering on the side of my garage now, protected from the wind. Hopefully there will be more pictures like this in a few months.


And, finally, my prize rose collection. I rescued these from my mom's rose garden before the Japanese Beetles could move in and destroy them. All five managed to survive the transplant and thrive in their new home, along my driveway, last summer. I'm anxious to see if they wintered over for me as well as they seemed to for my mom.

Ah, warm weather, you may not be here quite yet, but you're close, and I'm carefully watching for you. Come quickly!

Photo Follow-Up

Against my better judgment I've decided to succumb to the requests in the comments here.

Superdad said I shouldn't. "Why embarrass yourself?" he reasoned.

He's right, of course. So, I won't. I'll embarrass us both. Here we are circa 1999. Ahhh, the memories. Aren't we just the coolest? Totally.


Wasn't Superdad a studly, single college dude?

This picture has always mortified Superdad. Mor-ti-fied. I'm sure within seconds of me posting this my phone will ring. But don't fret over me folks; we have caller ID.

As explanation, there were four other people there drinking those bottles of wine and we did drink them over a civilized dinner that involved real food and real cooking. And, hey, we were in college.

To assuage any fears that we may have ended up as miscreants, let now put those to rest. Here we are just a few, short years later and, in this picture Superdad has a law degree. Well, that and a wife and two kids. So yes, even stupid, irresponsible college kids have to grow up sometime.

Personality DNA

I thought this was kind of fun. It told me that I'm just as odd as I thought (my selections were consistently among what only about 1-5% other people chose).

It also told me I'm hip and sophisticated. And we all know how true that is, so how could I not share this accurate, personality decoding gem with other self-seekers?

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

The Candy Detective

I once mentioned Elisabeth's growing sweet tooth, but even I failed to recognize the heights it has now achieved.

A recent morning found me peacefully sipping coffee and checking my email while Elisabeth was happily turning our formally tidy home into a disaster zone by tearing everything out of cabinets, baskets and shelves. During dear, sweet Elisabeth's investigation she made an exciting discovery in one of the kitchen cabinets.

She discovered her brother and sister's Valentine's Day candy. And not only did she know what it was, but before I was any the wiser, she proved that she knew exactly what to do with it.


Yes, just like Christopher Columbus and Juan Ponce de León before her, she now realizes the rewards of exploration.

Cereal

Growing up I thought cereal was what one ate for breakfast when there wasn't time for anything else. I thought it was OK but never thought too highly of it. Nor did I think anyone else did either.

And then along came Superdad. He has two favorite foods in this world: 1) sandwiches and 2) cereal. It's not uncommon to see him snacking on a bowl of cereal during the evening news.

Hank, it's sad to say, shares his father's love of all things cereal. Oh, he has his favorites, sure, but he's pretty easy to please. If it comes out of a cardboard box, gets thrown in a bowl and covered with milk then he's game for it. Hank's favorite day of the week is grocery shopping day when he comes home from preschool and surveys what I've chosen. Puffins! Cheerios! Frosted Mini-Wheats! I can almost see the wheels turning in his head and then, inevitably, week after week, "Mom, can I have cereal for lunch?"

And, as usual, I oblige.



Thanks, Mom!

Four-Year-Old Logic

Act 1

Scene 1

(Hank's bedroom at bedtime. It's dark. Mommy is hiding under Hank's covers, completely hidden. Superdad is escorting Hank to bed. Hank begins to climb in.)

Hank (giggling): Mommy, are you in my bed? Why are you hidden under all my covers? Were you trying to scare me?

Mommy: Yes, Hank, it's me. (Mommy pulls the covers off her head.) How did you know it was me and not a monster?

Hank (in a what-are-you,-stupid? tone of voice): Uh, Mommy, I knew it was you because a monster's feet would have been sticking out on the other end of the bed. You know, because they're bigger than you!

End Scene

Movie Review, II

For last Friday night's entertainment Superdad came home with The Departed, which won the 2006 Academy Award for Best Picture.

We both expected to like it, but neither of us expected to love it. The movie was extremely violent and the language extremely salty, two criteria that don't usually attract me to a movie, but in the closing minutes of the film I found myself not wanting the movie to end.

The acting was fantastic and the movie was constantly moving, the story regularly changing and the characters continuously keeping you guessing (Is he a good guy? A mole?)

Kitchen Adjustment, II

Do I or do I not have a digital camera? When I said I didn't have any pictures of the kitchen it never even occurred to me to take a couple.

Here it is. Just ignore Hank in the last picture; he's getting his daily Tom and Jerry fix. Oh, and ignore the dirty dishes. And the mittens drying out in front of the heating register. And any other messes you might see...

Kitchen Adjustment

Superdad and I are seriously thinking of remodeling our kitchen. For those of you who have seen it I'm sure you understand why. It's all fairly new but it's just not how I would like it, the highlight in ugly-ness being the bright green formica countertops.

Given the amount of time I spend in my kitchen it's disappointing there aren't more pictures of it and, as a result, I'm forced to once again share this awful picture of me, but if you enlarge it you can see the kitchen. Sort of.


What we want to do:

1) Re-do the floors. Pull up the linoleum and put in hard wood. We can try to match the oak currently throughout the first floor (which is the less expensive option) or we can go with a lighter maple, which could help make the kitchen feel larger and brighter. I'm sort of leaning to a larger plank (think 4-5 inches) maple, but I am open and encourage any suggestions (especially from a particular aunt who I know possesses an acumen for envisioning what would look good!).

2) Re-do the absurdly ugly counters. We're open to almost anything for the new counter top, although my preferences certainly seem to trend towards some type of stone. It's such a small amount of counter top that granite or silestone are the front runners right now. So, tell me what you know about the positives and negatives of each. Color suggestions are welcome, too.

3) Put in a new sink. We have an old, crusty stainless steel sink and I want an under mounted sink of some sort. This though, I feel fairly capable of choosing on my own since the selection is a bit more limited. I'd love to hear input from those who have one though and if there is any downside.

UPDATE: I took and posted current pictures here.

My New Roommate

Naturally now that Elisabeth has finally started spending entire nights in her own crib, in her own bedroom, Madeleine has decided to begin expressing dissatisfaction with her current sleeping arrangements and her manner has been quite vociferous in suggesting she ought sleep in our room. You know, in that queen size bed that was suddenly, upon Elisabeth's departure, feeling so luxuriously large and comfortable (and this is only a queen size bed!).

I keep saying no. No, no, no. I want my space. I want to sleep. For the love of all that is good in this world, I just want eight hours of uninterrupted sleep for at least two or three nights in a row. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently.

Last night Madeleine strategically circumvented me and asked Superdad, who would, in a just world, hereafter be known as SuckerDad. He didn't even pause to think before he said yes. Madeleine proudly ran up to me, secure in her victory, and exclaimed, "Guess what Mom! I get to sleep in YOUR bed tonight!" Her eyes were shining with excitement. Mine glazed over.

"Oh good!" I said through gritted teeth while thinking, "I am going to kill Superdad"

This post should lend understanding into these burning questions, which I'm sure have tormented all of my readers:

1) Why I have such a complete and total love affair with all things caffeine, especially coffee and

2) Why, more often than not, I appear a bit imbalanced.

Now you know. It's sleep deprevation.

Flashback: September 1996

I'm a sophomore in college. I'm a punk but I think I'm pretty cool. I am wearing clothes I won't now confess to wearing (though I have little doubt Terri, my roommate at the time, will out me in the comments). I've just declared my major as political science, though what I want to do with it I'm not quite sure.

It's a Monday, Wednesday or Friday around noon. I'm sitting in my first political science class as a political science major. Sitting there talking to friends and --dare I confess it again?-- thinking I'm pretty hot stuff. How I could think that in cut-off train conductor bibs and blue bandanna I know not, but I did (did I just admit that out loud?).

I look up and notice an attractive guy sitting one row up and about three desks over. I've never seen him before in my life. He's later to become my husband, Superdad.

How we got from there to here is a long, complicated story that I refuse to thoroughly delve into on my blog. It might unjustly tarnish the opinion you have of me now, which is a one of a mature, coherent woman who thinks through all momentous decisions completely and rationally. (That is your opinion of me, isn't it? Isn't it?)

Suffice it to say we first noticed each other there, though it wasn't for another year, the fall semester of 1997, that we'd officially meet and start dating.

Housekeeping

I apologize to those of you tracking your blogs with bloglines. If you are I'm sure you've noticed what seems like 18,000 new posts a day coming from my site but, no, I'm just working with some older posts, updating them with labels, proper line spacing (something I shamefully didn't know how to do before) and general edits.

Shouldn't take too much longer to finish!

Lasagna

Pioneer Woman claims this is the best lasagna. Ever. I thought it was very good. So did the guests I made it for this past Saturday.

Most importantly though, it was easy. Look, even my four year old can make it:

Not that I care about being proven right or anything.....

In my very first blog post on August 25, 2006 I used Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson's marriage lasting to illustrate something else not likely to happen. Well, well, well, it occurs to me (eons after the fact) that a scant three months after making that prediction they announced their break-up.

What does this prove? Absolutely nothing. But I was right and, darn it, someone should know.

And I don't want to hear anyone whispering that it was an obvious, easy call. Hush! Does this help bulk up my credentials as a bona fide oracle: I also predicted the demise of Britney Spears and K-Fed.

No?!

Leisure Wear

I like to window shop; I always have. I've always carefully admired the assembled mannequins in the windows of some of my favorite stores and envisioned myself wearing the pretty skirts, uber trendy jeans or the sparkly jewelry.

Lately though, I've noticed a disturbing change.

Once the window displays at Banana Republic beckoned me inside and perhaps I'd leave with the store with a new blouse. Or high heels. But now the uncomfortable, stylish clothes in the windows of the "cool" stores don't hold the same power they once did. Walking past with little notice of the sophisticated displays has become more common.

I've noticed the somewhat dimming interest with no small amount of shame but still, today I was completely horrified when I realized just how far I've fallen. Walking past Land's End I noticed their very elaborate display of... yoga pants. Yup, yoga pants. I seriously considered entering the store and trying them on. Even as I write this, well aware of the absurdity of my position, I want those pants. Those made-for comfort, designed for sweating, yoga pants.

Ugh.

Flashback: June 2004

Pictured are Madeleine (age 3) and Hank (age 20 months) in June of 2004 at my mom and Bob's house in Silver Lake. Their Nana (my mom) took this photo of them on her patio. As I mentioned once before, Mom was a phenomenal gardener, and she was also good at showing off her green thumb in photo ops like the one featured below.


Going into a weekend that predicts snow, snow and yet, more snow, I long for spring and the days like this that I know are waiting for me just a few more months down the road. Doesn't the scene look so warm and inviting?

Gottcha!

Madeleine had a friend, C___, over from school the other day who is one of the two best readers in their first grade class. And by this I mean she came into first grade reading the backs of medicine labels better than I currently do. Madeleine is no slouch but she doesn't read at genius level. Yet.

Madeleine and C___ decided they would begin their playtime by reading a new book of Madeleine's. They agree to this by C___ telling Madeleine she would help her with any words she didn't know. Madeleine responded enthusiastically," Yeah! And then when you read I'll help you with any words you don't know."

C___ laughed. Not a mean laugh; a laugh of distrust, disbelief, "Well, OK, but I don't really think there will be any words I don't know."

Madeleine looked slightly affronted. Game on I could hear her say to herself.

And they read amiably for awhile and later moved on to other pursuits. But after C___ left Madeleine resumed reading the book they'd read together. Two rooms away from me I hear Madeleine shout," MOM!!! WHAT DOES G-Y-M-N-A-S-T SPELL?"

I'm wondering why Madeleine is yelling from two rooms away since I've asked her time and time again to walk to where I am and converse like a respectable person. But my response is, "Gymnast."

Madeleine walks into the room I'm in. She looks happy. Satisfied. Maybe even a little smug. "Humph." She laughs, "C___ thought it said gymnastics." She walks stridently away, both rolling her eyes and laughing while she struts.

Non-Post

There are days when blog post ideas race through my brain at light speed and, on good days, if I'm lucky, I'm able to capture a few before the thoughts are lost forever.

And there are days, like today, when I want to post something but have nothing to say. I sit here with sun streaming through my window, a hot cup of coffee six inches away and a peaceful home and yet I have...nothing. The blogging stars, so to speak, are perfectly aligned, and yet the most critical component, a good idea, is utterly lacking. Shouldn't the serenity, the coffee and the sun be enough? I sort of hoped it might.

Alas, all I can think of is the trip to Trader Joe's I have to make this morning. And the casserole I have to make for our potluck at church this evening. And the pile of laundry in my basement. None of those things are interesting or inspirational.

Weather

Talking about the weather seems such a cliché; it's what you talk about when you don't know what else to talk about. It's something that just, well, is so there's no point in discussing it.

But I can't help it. First off, weather fascinates me. I find different weather systems and all their different components incredibly remarkable and interesting. I adore hearing all the different predictions and seeing if they play out as predicted. I even have a weather station strategically located next to my kitchen sink for maximum viewing (OK, OK, addictive surveillance is more like it) and a desktop weather program installed on my laptop.

Secondly though, this winter has been awful. So cold and awful and Superdad and I have on the most miserable of days researched different cities we would consider relocating (all of which are far, far south of here).

Given those confessions I'm sure you can understand why I'm unable to stop myself from telling you what the weather is like here today. It's warm. Gloriously, beautifully warm. No, not warm by a sane person's standards; no, no, we live in Wisconsin, we can't expect true warmth until April at the earliest.

But it feels warm. There are puddles on the sidewalks, I can feel the snow squish instead of crunch beneath my Sorrels, I'm comfortable in a couple light fleeces instead of my usual warm parka and, best yet, I was able to retire my car keys and dust off the double jogger so that I could return to walking the kids to school today.

Yes, yes, I know. Weather is boring. But today? No, it's perfect.

Birthday Jamborees

A weekend spent celebrating birthdays with family far and wide.

On Friday Superdad and I hosted Bob's birthday at our house. The gang:


All this eating and playing proves too much for Hank who falls asleep mid-meal:


And out go the candles-- Happy Birthday, Bob!



Saturday we traveled south for Diana's birthday. Here's the gang minus Dad:


The meal was a group effort and it was so, so good. Dad grilled steaks (sent by Quantum Void!), Superdad and I put together twice baked potatoes, I roasted fresh asparagus, my sister, Cloe (a.k.a. BakerBabe) threw together a fresh garlic vinegrette for an arugula salad and a delicious white cake with a chocoate cream cheese frosting.



The birthday girl seems happy to feed Elisabeth the leftovers. Happy Birthday, Diana!

Sweet Dreams, Little Ones

After bedtime stories, prayers and hugs and kisses Madeleine abandoned her upper bunk and squeezed in with Hank in his lower bunk. They stayed like this the whole of the night:

Flowers

These gorgeous flowers were my Valentine's Day gift from Superdad. Aren't they pretty?

Their arrival here was complicated. It should be simple, no? Alas, an incorrect notation of our address gave me flowers a day late, after Valentine's Day, and gave Superdad a fifty percent discount.

I'm just happy to have fresh, beautiful flowers in my dining room against the backdrop of cold and snow, no matter the day. Superdad though, feels differently. It's the romantic in him, I suppose. Don't tell him I told you, but he's probably more romantic and sentimental than I am. That's a good thing as sometimes I think I'm not romantic enough.

I'll let him deal with the business end of ordering flowers. I just want to enjoy them.


Thank you, Joe!

Happy Valentine's Day!

Happy Valentine's Day, dear readers!

Also, here's the most adorable valentine the kids got this year. Isn't it delightful? (Thanks, Jack and Harry!)

Movie Review

Just before leaving for NYC last week Superdad and I did something we hadn't done in eons: we rented movies. We're so behind that we didn't know where to begin, so I just ran through Hollywood Video and nabbed three that looked interesting.

So, here's what we watched:

Superdad and I both really enjoyed this movie. Eric Bana was terrific and made some slower scenes watchable. I don't have any insightful commentary, but I would recommend the movie, though make sure you watch it on a night when you're fully awake and alert.

Hil-arious. Even Superdad enjoyed it . It was a very pretty movie to watch, doesn't require much thought (OK, any) to keep up and I've heard and read it pretty accurately describes the behind-the scenes of the fashion industry.

I thought I'd read good reviews of World Trade Center. Upon proudly showing the rental to Superdad his less than enthusiastic face temporarily tamed my excitement.

"What?" I asked.

"Why'd you rent that?"

"What! It's supposed to be really good. Isn't it?"

"No, Cate, it's not."

"Oh."

And he was right. Pretty dull stuff.

Pass the Sugar, Please

All kids like food made with sugar, or so it seems. But not all kids like food made with sugar.

Madeleine likes her cake and candy, but not so much that she'll gorge herself. And she'll often choose a healthy snack after school, preferring that to a homemade sugary treat.

And then there's Hank. He has proven too many times during sugar centered occasions (trays of Christmas cookies lying about, for instance) that he's painfully out of tune with his body. He's made himself sick on more than one occasion by popping one too many cookies in his mouth.

We've learned that when it comes to cake, candy, cookies and other sweet treats that Hank's behavior needs to be closely monitored. It's tiresome to hear him trying to break into the cookie jar when I leave the kitchen. Again. And again. And again.

Well now it appears Superdad and I have another sweet tooth in the house. Elisabeth isn't quite capable yet of breaking into the cookie jar, but she's made it abundantly clear that she approves of cookies and cake. She hasn't had them that often yet somehow she's aware of exactly what they are and exactly how much she wants them.

Here she is enjoying a chocolate chip cookie this past Saturday night. A happy little baby follows:

New York, II

I love New York. I love visiting. I love racing up and down subway steps imagining, for just a moment, that I’m part of the hustle and bustle; that I too have someplace so important to be that I couldn’t dream of merely walking down the stairs. I love the sounds of the trains screeching on the tracks. And the chorus of honking taxi horns when you step up from the subway. I love the idea that someone is upset because someone else's pace (hit the gas pedal a half a second BEFORE the light turns green! Don't walk to slowly on the subway stairs! Push the revolving door faster!) might push them a millisecond behind schedule. Superdad calls NY driving "Combat Driving" and I think it's an appropriate title.

Hurry, hurry, rush, rush!

And all that rushing always has New Yorkers on the cutting edge of everything in America, it seems. Some of it good, some of it not, but what's good is so enjoyable to take part. I love watching what people are wearing in NY. It almost seems as if I'm looking at a photo spread in Vogue; people are so well dressed. I love eating out in NY. The restaurants are unique and amazing but, like everything else, ever changing.

Here are my trip highlights: a fun visit with my aunt (check out Sixty-Five's blog for some more tidbits about my trip), a trip to the Museum of Modern Art, a Bobby Flay and Stephanie March sighting (they were at the MoMA too!!!), three extraordinary meals at Bar Americain, Mesa Grill and Lombardi's Pizza and countless hours logged drooling over clothes, bags, jewelry and accessories in one glamorous store after another.

It was a fantastic, too short trip, and I can't wait for the next.

New York

I am heading to the Big Apple tomorrow to celebrate Superdad's and my wedding anniversary. Superdad is already there for work and I'll be joining him tomorrow afternoon. This will be my first trip into the city in a long time without kids in tow and I'm very excited-- especially since we have reservations at one of Bobby Flay's restaurants tomorrow night (I won't get into how much I love Bobby Flay; that's a whole separate entry).

Bon Voyage!

Snow Day, II

And now school's been cancelled for tomorrow. This is absurd. We live in Wisconsin, for pity's sake; it's supposed to be cold.

I'm trying to envision Pa Ingalls of Little House on the Prairie fame telling Ma he wasn't going to get to the chores most days in the winter because the cold was too dangerous. Please.

They're Up!

Terri's galleries, that is. Scroll through all four and see if you spot any familiar faces...

Snow Day

No school today. No, not too much snow; too cold, they say. It's tolerable, I say, but no one making school closing decisions asks me.

So, the kids get to stay home. Both big kids are immediately shuttled off to the first of what turns into multiple play dates. It's quieter here than most days now.

I like the quiet, but I also don't want the kids' time in school in June to be extended. I hope they're back to school tomorrow.

Taxes

We're done and ready to file our 2006 federal and state income tax returns.

Ignoring the ridiculous amount owed and the wasteful management of our tax dollars both in Washington and Madison, I'm still relieved. They're finished.

Oh, and I love TurboTax. Love, love, love it.

Salary Comparison Calculator

Have some time to waste today? I have a fun Internet site to visit. My personal favorite is if we move from Milwaukee to New York City:

The cost of living in New York, New York is 473.6% higher than that of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Huh.

Anyway, fun to see how far (or not!) your money can go in various parts of the country.

Barbaro Euthanized

Last May I remember cramming in front of our kitchen TV with Joe, Hank and Madeleine and cheering Barbaro onto victory in the Kentucky Derby. It was an exciting race and we were so proud of Barbaro.

The kids, Hank especially, have been interested in his injuries and were hoping for recovery, a miracle.

Barbaro was euthanized Monday after complications from his gruesome breakdown at last year's Preakness, ending an eight-month ordeal that made him even more of a hero than he was as a champion on the track.

"Certainly, grief is the price we all pay for love," co-owner Gretchen Jackson said.

A series of ailments -- including laminitis in the left rear hoof, an abscess in the right rear hoof, as well as new laminitis in both front feet -- proved too much for the gallant colt. Barbaro was given a heavy dose of a tranquilizer and an overdose of an anesthetic and put down at 10:30 a.m.

Full article here

Cute Video, II

Elisabeth's new favorite activity: talking on the phone. She's thrown her first, honest to goodness tantrums over seeing someone speaking on the phone and not instantly giving it to her the moment she reaches her hand out for it (which is, as a matter of course, the very second she spots someone using it).

Following is a very amateur video showing her engaging in her favorite past time. Forgive me, you have to watch this video sideways since, apparently, there's no way to turn a video once it's been shot. So, turn your head to the side and enjoy.

The Future

It’s so easy to only look forward when you’re set in a certain set of circumstances. When Superdad was in law school it was always: when he’s done then I can stay home and we’ll move into a bigger house.

The summer before we moved to the Milwaukee area it was: in three months we’ll be in a nice house that we own in a really nice neighborhood.

Every pregnancy for me was simply one long look forward to the day that baby would come and life would unalterably change. Little time was spent reflecting on the actual pregnancy.

Time was, and seemingly still is, spent looking forward. It always seems as if the present is simply a precursor to a bigger and better future.

What’s easy to forget is that today’s present is yesterday’s future. How is it that we can be enjoying the dream we once so longed for if we’ve forgotten we dreamed it and have our eyes, once again, affixed on a different goal?

Goals, ambition and future gazing are not bad things. But, they can be, in my opinion, if they breed discontentment and restlessness with the present. It's hard, at times, to be thankful for the mundane and ordinary; it's human nature to want to grasp the extraordinary.

I'm determined to try and be more thankful for all that I have been blessed with. No, I'll not stop looking anxiously ahead and setting goals for myself and my family, but if the goal I set paints the present as dull and uninteresting or, worse yet, makes me ungrateful for what I currently have, then perhaps the goal isn't worth it after all.

Business Cards for Mom

I need these.

Kidding.

I mean, seriously, I get that they might possibly make life easier but I would feel like a complete tool standing on the playground passing out one of these. So, so not cool.

Is there really a market for these cards? Does anyone have them? Been handed one? Are they "in" on the coasts? Will I be eating crow in a few years when the trend hits the Midwest and all of my mommy friends are slipping these to one another and I'm forced to choose between "daisy" or "sports" to stay in the loop?

Do tell.

The Weekend

We're back. Happily, sort of, since we're home and it's always good to come home, but sad too. We had a wonderfully relaxing weekend and that smack of reality upon returning home isn't always the most welcome feeling.

Nonetheless, home are we. A bit more tired, perhaps, than before we left, but also full of more fun memories.

As always, we stayed here. In January I feel as if we're there by ourselves. The lobby with its breathtaking views of the bay was ours for the taking. The whirlpool in our building's basement was ours and ours alone no matter the time of day. And this time even the pool in the main building was desolate.

Here was the view from the condo in which Superdad, the kids and I stayed:


Most of our time was spent in the pool and whirlpool in the main building. But we also logged some serious hours in the whirlpool in our building. The kids loved this fun game (pictured below), taking their cues from hearing my sister and me talk about how we used to do it when we were kids and staying at the Landmark in January:


The whirlpool also affords a generous view of the bay and, as you see above, a walkout deck to appreciate that view. The kids made multiple runs outdoors in the freshly fallen snow in their swimsuits and then darted back into the whirlpool room to plunge into the steaming water.

And here's the birthday boy:


Happy Birthday, Dad!

Hiatus

We're off for a weekend of snow, game playing and celebrating my dad's birthday at our favorite getaway spot in Door County, Wisconsin. Hopefully I'll have anecdotes and pictures to share when we return!

Potato Soup

I lied. This ended up curing a bad day better than a cup of coffee ever could.

No Blogging

There will be no blogging today. Well, unless you count this post, which I guess you should since it's here. So there will be no blogging today after this post. But wait, that doesn't make any sense either since as a matter of course I usually post no more than once a day.

My small readership made up mostly of friends and family (though I welcome anyone who might be interested) might ask me why. Well, I'm simply not in the mood. I have nowhere interesting on the Internet to send you and nothing interesting to tell you.

Unless I talk about the fender bender I had this morning which was, pathetically, all my fault and, to be perfectly honest, quite embarrassing. So, no, I don't want to talk about that (though I will calm any fears: everyone is perfectly fine; all that is bruised is my ego).

Coffee. Yes, that's what I need to improve my mood and spirits. Coffee and a four year old son who listens. Hmmm. I guess the coffee will have to suffice.

New TV

Here you see the old (bottom left), the installation of the glorious new and our little Hank-er enjoying Diego on our new, huge TV.

Frankly, I can't believe how excited I am about a stupid TV.

Spa Day

Today I finally made good use of a gift certificate I received two (or three?!) years ago issued for a trendy spa downtown. I decided to indulge in a massage and a manicure, two things I never, ever do.

I was looking forward to my day. I chatted with my friends about what to expect since a great many of them indulge in these activities regularly. It seems to be what one does around here to fit in.

And enjoy myself I did. There's no denying that lying on a table with soothing music playing, being treated with various Aveda oils and lotions and having kinks in your neck worked out is incredibly relaxing.

But it may just not be me.

I know little about the nuances involved with regular massages but I gather you're not supposed to be thinking about twenty other things you should be doing or, more importantly, what you'd rather be doing. Surely in massage utopia a complete disconnect from reality and routine is achieved.

I shouldn't be surprised. I've always been more of jeans and tennis shoe type of girl than a fitted pair of Diesel jeans and heels type and you're much more apt of find me without make-up than with, but still, the hope was there. Why couldn't I also be a spa girl?

Truthfully I feel much more relaxed sinking into the futon down in our cold, miserable basement with a bowl of hot, buttery popcorn on one side and a kid snuggled into me on the other and indulging in a movie we rented (for free!) from the library on a Friday night than I do having all my aching, stressed out limbs blissfully and skillfully manipulated to feel as unwound as possible. How bizarre is that?!

But, as always, I'm a contradiction. I loved the gift, and I'd happily accept another spa gift certificate but I think it's time I just accepted the fact that I'll never be the sort that wants or desires regular primping beyond a regular hair-cut, and that's only because I can't physically see if I don't do that. I'm not a spa girl. And that's OK.

My Fashionista

Or, as she's otherwise known, Madeleine.

Madeleine and I went shopping on Sunday afternoon with a gift certificate to the Gap that Madeleine received for Christmas. Barring anything inappropriate I gave M free reign and the above is what she came up with.

I have to say, I'm not too crazy about the sequin-y, frayed jeans, but she sure was and, overall, she did a pretty nice job. And we sure had a lot of fun!

Terri Fischer Photography

For those of you who haven't seen me showing off the pictures my dear friend and old college roommate, Terri, took of my kids, let me show off now. Here is a post she has on her photography blog showing of the Christmas card she did for us.

If you live in the Milwaukee area check out her business' website. And, even if you don't live in the Milwaukee area check out her prices page (a selection after you choose her "info" link) because you might just see a familiar face there.

Over-the-Counter Cold and Cough Medicines Can Kill Babies, CDC Says

I'll admit it, this really scared me.

ATLANTA — More than 1,500 toddlers and babies wound up in emergency rooms over a two-year period and three died because of bad reactions to cold or cough medicine, federal health officials reported Thursday.

The U.S.Centers for Disease Control and Prevention warned parents not to give common over-the-counter cold remedies to children under 2 years old without consulting a doctor.

Thankfully Elisabeth has a regular check-up soon so I can query her doctor more about this development. Yikes!

Time

As a child a year seemed to last an eternity. The time from sunset on Christmas Day to sunrise of the next Christmas Day, the unit by which I measured all time, seemed almost a lifetime. A year felt long.

As an adult with children a year feels short, fleeting almost. Careful, don’t blink or you’ll miss the whole of 2007.

So what’s changed? A year is still just a year. Three hundred sixty-five days. No more, no less (well, except for those pesky leap years).

I know that I am not alone. Every parent I talk to speaks wistfully of the passage of time, of their babies turning into school age children and not having enough time with which to accomplish certain tasks.

It almost seems a cliché.

So, when does the acceleration of time stop? Does it? Will I feel that two years passed as quickly as I now feel one does when I’m seventy? Or does it start to slow down again? And why does it accelerate? Is it merely becoming an adult that triggers this change in perception or is it tied to having children?

I have no answers, only questions that bring about more questions.

Cute Video

I know, I know, every mother thinks their kids are the absolute cutest kids to ever grace humankind with their presence. I get that. I'm biased.

Still though, I have to share this video of Elisabeth. The picture quality is grainy and horrible; the camera operator (me!) is horrible; yet through all this horrible-ness there's sweet little Elisabeth Jane trying her darndest to play Pat a Cake just a few hours ago.

Brain Exercise

I'm not going to lie: staying home with three kids ages six, four and fourteen months isn't the most intellectually stimulating task in the world. Don't get me wrong; I wouldn't give it up for anything. I love what I do and I have no desire to stretch my mental capacities beyond doing what I currently am at this point in time.

That said, I never really thought about the idea that keeping my brain in neutral day in and day out, so to speak, has left it vulnerable. When I first starting forgetting things (Why did I come into this room-- what was I supposed to get?) I blamed it on pregnancy. All the experts say forgetfulness is a symptom and I was pacified. Later I blamed it on having two kids. Then three.

Or keeping the house running smoothly.

And having school events to organize.

Or church functions to orchestrate.

The excuses flowed easily.

Lately though, I've wondered. Could it be my forgetfulness is more of a product of not exercising my brain and not because of having children? This article suggests that it might.

So, what's my New Year's resolution? To take better care of my mind. Its regimen will include Sudoku, Chess, non-fiction books about something other than parenting and more writing (though what about or for what purpose I'm not yet sure).

Walking

Elisabeth is finally walking! She's been taking steps here and there for months now. But this past weekend, at long last, she really got moving on her two tiny little feet. She's been practicing, practicing, practicing and although she still crawls 50-70 percent of the time that percentage is decreasing daily.

Yay, Elisabeth!

It's Baaaa-ack

Starbucks has re-introduced its most tempting, delicious drink ever: the Cinnamon Dolce Latte. I got hooked on them at about this time last year and then, mercifully, Starbucks took them off the menu and both my trips to Starbucks and waistline decreased.

I didn't know whether to jump for joy when I pulled up to the drive-thru menu this morning or step on the gas and drive far, far away. But, thankfully (or maybe not...) there was a white van in front of me and a black SUV behind me, sandwiching me, trapping me in the drive-thru lane.

So now I know they're there. And for a limited time. I'm doomed.

Back!

Home, at last.

Christmas and celebrating the New Year was enjoyable, of course, but so is my own home. My own messy home which has been forgotten in the midst of the holiday bustle. It is now time for cleaning, unpacking and laundry. Yet still, I'm thankful to be here.

Thank you to all who hosted us. We had a lovely time at all our stops on our Christmas tour and are thankful for the opportunity to spend extended time catching up, forming new relationships, playing cards (Hearts, Sheepshead and Smear were all played extensively) and drinking coffee (with foamy milk, of course).

Merry Christmas!

I know it won't be Christmas for a few more days but as the day approaches so does my panic level and I'm sure blogging won't be a priority until after Monday.

I'm so excited, though! Saturday we're attending a performance of The Nutcracker, which will be Madeleine's first exposure to my favorite ballet.

Christmas Eve will be here with lots of family, and even some new friends with whom I'm excited to share the day. In the evening we'll attend church where Madeleine will play the part of a shepherd and Hank an angel.

Santa stops here on Christmas Eve and after eating our cinnamon rolls, reading Jesus' birth story from the book of Luke and opening our presents we'll head down to Silver Lake to continue the celebration.

But, in the meantime, a little something to get you into the Christmas spirit (it's worth the time):



Merry Christmas to all!

Christmas Tree Ornaments

Superdad decided, way back when we put up our very first Christmas tree, that he was going to save a section of the tree's trunk and make Christmas ornaments out of it. As our family has expanded the piece of trunk has had to grow larger and larger (along with Superdad's time, energy, patience and skill) so that he can make one for each person living in our house with the tree. Each child and I have an ornament for each year we've celebrated Christmas together.

Elisabeth received her first ornament this year (made from the 2005 tree, which marked her first Christmas with us).


This was Superdad's first attempt at an ornament, made for Madeleine:


Probably my favorite is the dove, made from our 2004 Christmas tree:


It's hard to tell from the picture, but it's actually white and it's quite lovely.

Christmas

Christmas.

It's a week from today.

Anyone ready?

I'm not. Every year I resolve that next year I'll be one of those people that shops for Christmas presents in July, wraps in August and spends all of November and December gleefully patting themselves on the back for being such smart planners.

Alas, I am never that person. Still much, much to do!

The Other Side of the Ocean

This is such a great blog.

Its author is currently in Italy and when she has a camera in her hand amazing things happen. I almost feel as if I'm traveling alongside her. Earlier this week she took me to Poland.

I hope Ms. Camic doesn't mind me promoting her blog here, but I just enjoy it so much that I thought others might as well.

Golden Globes

I need to get out more.

I have always loved movies and considered myself pretty "up" on what was out when and what was supposed to be good.

Today the nominations for the Golden Globe Awards were released. Not only have I not seen any of the movies, I've never even heard of most of them.

But I can, however, tell you that a new, live action version of Charlotte's Web is being released tomorrow and I know the names of the songs in High School Musical well enough that I can search for them on You Tube.

Oh, for shame.

Happy Birthday, Alex!

High School Musical

I first heard about this movie while in New Jersey over Thanksgiving. My cousin's daughter, Catharine, loves this movie and apparently it's all the rage in Boston with the third grade set. We rented and watched it one night and all had a fun time (mostly watching the kids, led by Catharine, dance and sing along).

I thought the movie would be forgotten after getting back to Wisconsin.

Nope.

We have a fourth grade girl on our block that loves the movie. And a second grader. High School Musical is a countrywide epidemic and all young girls have been infected.

Madeleine ran in last night singing all the songs and was delighted with the videos we found on You Tube. Despite myself, I find that I'm tapping my foot and singing along.

So, these are for you, Catharine and Madeleine:

Wisconsin Cooks

I have another blog.

"Why on earth!"

My stepmom, sister and I wanted an easy, central place to share recipes and discuss local dining. So, Wisconsin Cooks was created.

I'm sure it's most interesting to a select few (like my stepmom, my sister and me...) but I'm sharing the link anyway.

Lots of yummy food posted there already!