What Gives?

Every day Madeleine and Hank make their beds. They don't particularly love doing it, but it's just as ingrained in their morning routine now as getting dressed and brushing their teeth. But, like getting dressed and brushing their teeth, if they can get away with "forgetting" to do it, well, then they'll be as forgetful as they possibly can.

Now, most days I can easily help remind them, but Sunday mornings are tricky. Between getting myself ready for church, brushing multiple heads of hair and helping Joe finish getting the smaller ones dressed (yes, you read that correctly, Joe is the main one getting the kids ready for church every Sunday allowing me an extra twenty to thirty minutes of sleep. Isn't he sweet?) I just don't have time to check and see if the kids made their beds most Sunday mornings and, sadly, the kids have sort of gotten used to Sunday being a day that they don't have to make their beds (and yes, it drives me NUTS).

Yesterday, after church and lunch, I went out to run a few errands. By the time I got back Madeleine and Elisabeth were playing that they were the Ingalls' girls from Little House on the Prairie and the time frame they had chosen to play was when when the Ingalls family was traveling across the prairie in a covered wagon. Madeleine had neatly set up their beds, like so.



Isn't that nice and neat? I watched them play for awhile, crawl into their beds, pretend to sleep, wake up and then leave their beds to go play. How did they leave their pretend bed? Like this.



I grew somewhat optimistic. Maybe I had been unfairly maligning Madeleine and she really did care about leaving a bed nice and neat. I went upstairs to put away some soap, shampoo and the like hoping that maybe-- maybe-- a neatly made bed would await me upon my arrival upstairs.

And this, my friends, is what greeted me.





*Sigh*

Horseback Riding

Madeleine has had a hard time finding an activity she likes over the years. Honestly, I haven't too much cared if she ever found one; staying home and playing with friends is just as easy as running out to some sort of lesson or another. And growing up I never really took any sorts of lessons. We jut weren't close enough to make a weekly commitment very feasible.

But Madeleine has dabbled. She tried ballet. Gymnastics. And most recently ice-skating and horseback riding. The ice-skating she still enjoys, but the horseback riding she loves. She can be in the middle of the most fun game imaginable with her block friends and when I tell her it's time to leave for her riding lesson she immediately says good-bye and runs in to prepare herself. She wants to get to the stables early each week because she wants to learn more than just how to ride a horse, she wants to learn how to care for them also.

This is not an activity that is going to fall by the wayside anytime soon.

Madeleine cleaning out one of her favorite horses' hooves with a hoof pick.



Receiving help with adjusting her stirrups.



Brushing Caramello after her ride.

Random Stuff

Our phone works again. Whew. I never realized how many people only had our home phone number and not our cell phone numbers. On the bright side, though, voicemail was able to screen out the 8 gazillion calls we received Monday and Tuesday telling us who to vote for and I never had to listen to the robo calls.

Holy week was wonderful. Each year I am more and more thankful for such a wonderful church, church family and the family and friends we have and who share in our Easter Sunday festivities with us. My house hasn't recovered yet and physically I'm exhausted, but I am so thankful for all our Holy Week services, for a joyful Easter service and breakfast after and for everyone who celebrated at our home with us later that day.

The forecast predicts that we might hit the sixties by the end of the week. Horrah!

Still waiting on a renovation versus moving verdict. I wish our builder would hurry and call back. If we're going the addition route I want to hurry up and start!

Really having trouble deciding on a name for our new daughter. Joe and I just aren't reaching a consensus and while we still have lots of time I wish we had a shorter short list. I feel as if I scour our family trees in vain one more time that I just might scream.

Computers for All

The other day I signed Madeleine up for her first email account*. I had been meaning to for awhile; it provides a good opportunity for her to practice typing and improve her spelling, writing and the formation of a proper letter (well, a proper e-letter, as it is, I guess).

After getting it all set up and sending out a few test emails I sat her down in front of my Mac, showed her where to go, told her what her password was, etc., etc. and walked her through checking her account for the first time. She was giddy with excitement to see two unread messages in her box and promptly read them and replied. After finishing with her task she set the computer to the side, folded her arms, looked at me and said, "Well Mom, I guess I'll need my own computer now."

Keep dreamin', kid.

*For obvious reasons I am not going to post it on my blog, but if you want to email Madeleine feel free to email me and ask for her address.

Wonky Phone

Something is wrong with our home phone. It's not working. See the problem?

I've yet to bite the bullet and spend the requisite number of minutes on hold with SBC, press the right buttons, talk to their automated phone service and then, ultimately, schedule a service call, and many of you may have noticed this if you've tried calling us over the past few days.

It's annoying but, for now, call my cell. Sooner or later I'll deal with this. I promise.

No More Diapers

For more than eight and a half years someone in our home as been wearing diapers at any given moment and even, at times, more than two someones (those time frames were fleeting, thankfully). The point is, I've been changing these disgusting things for a loooong time. Eight and a half years is a really, really long time to go without having a break from changing diapers, trust me.

I am happy to report that the chain has been broken. We now have not one single, solitary child in our home wearing diapers. Yes, yes, I know it's only a temporary reprieve but hey, I'll take it.

The Baby is a...

On my mom's side of the family we have always joked about the abundance of girls. My mom's mom was one of three girls, my mom was one of three girls, my mom had a girl and my mom's sister had three girls. Yes, yes, I know the male determines the sex, so this wealth of girls is just a fluke.

Well, today we added to the fluke. I have two girls and one boy and, in about four more months our ultrasound today revealed that we will have another girl!

I can't really say I had too much of a preference one way or another, so I'm just excited to know, and now for you all to know.

Maternity Clothes

I have squeezed into my last pair of non-maternity pants for the foreseeable future. I tried the whole rubber-band-your-jeans-trick as long as I could. It's time to admit defeat and make the transition to maternity clothes.

Man, I hate maternity clothes.

Deep Thoughts

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.

Newseum

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.

Good-bye, Warm Sun

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.

Task Mug

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?

A Time to Talk

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.

A Time to Talk by Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road

And slows his horse to a meaning walk, 

I don't stand still and look around

On all the hills I haven't hoed,

And shout from where I am, What is it?

No, not as there is a time to talk.

I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground, 

Blade-end up and five feet tall, 

And plod: I go up to the stone wall

For a friendly visit.

Nature Preschool: The Next Student

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!

Best Friends

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.

Not Spring

I shouldn't have said it felt like spring here. I should not have even thought it.

Yesterday we were treated to another dusting of snow and temperatures in the twenties are predicted this week.

*Sigh* It is March now. Maybe soon...

Spring?

The thermometer is reading just below sixty degrees. I saw tulips (or were they daffodils?) just poking out of the recently snow covered earth just this morning. The sun is shining.

Dare I even say it? Has spring arrived?

Marley & Me

I just finished reading Marley & Me by John Grogan. It was such a wonderful tribute to a dog that I couldn't help but remember while reading it all the crazy antics of my family's dogs throughout my childhood.

I can't imagine dealing with the responsibility of owning a dog right now on top of the three kids and a baby on the way, but in other ways I'm impossibly sad about my kids not having those types of memories that only a dog owner can have. If things go as they are, they won't know the joy of a crisp autumn walk with a panting, excited dog by their side. They won't realize the satisfaction of training a dog and seeing the fruits of those labors. Somehow, the idea of curling up on a sofa with a dog at your feet and a good book in your hands seems like something few should miss.

Of course, of course, my kids are showered with good memories and I suspect looking back as adults they won't feel they've lacked much and, if they do, perhaps they can get their own dog someday. But after reading such a touching tribute to a badly behaved Labrador Retriever, it's hard not to think that a beloved family pet is worth the sacrifices it requires.

2009 Blogging

I think a common New Year's resolution of bloggers to to put more effort (and posts!) into their blog. I don't know that I ever verbalized that thought, but internally I thought to myself that maybe, new year, new blog commitment. And I think I meant it.

But then the first trimester of this pregnancy kicked in in earnest and I spend each day counting the hours until bedtime and feeling queasy all day long. Somehow blog posts entitled "Morning Sickness Strikes Again!" don't seem terribly interesting.

I'm still here. Eight weeks pregnant with an ultrasound picture of the baby and its beating heart hanging on my refrigerator and ridiculously and miserably sick. This too will pass and, I suspect, hardly remembered in the years to come. But for now it's interfering with any desire I might have to blog.

Happy New Year!

Since my kids think they're virtually perfect and don't understand why they would need to make a New Year's resolution, I thought I would offer up some sample resolutions for them, in case they were interested.

I, Madeleine, resolve that for the whole of 2009 I will not roll my eyes, sigh whenever my mother speaks or hide my dirty clothes under my bed, in my closet or under my bureau.

I, Hank, resolve that for the whole of 2009 I will not sneak candy, cookies or other forms of sugar unless I ask, and I will not overreact to any situation or news-- this includes the request to turn off my Wii-- by yelling, shrieking or stomping my feet.

I, Elisabeth, resolve that for the whole of 2009 I will not require stitches, larger than average Band-Aids, cold compresses or anything that involves greater than average care, and I especially resolve not to need to go to the ER this year for stitches. Especially twice in one year. I further resolve to open my eyes and realize that while I am the youngest child, I am not the only child, and I will behave accordingly.

I, the unborn baby, resolve to stop making mommy nauseous and tired. I further resolve to come out easily, on time and healthy.

There, those ought to help the house remain peaceful and happy in 2009.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Guess What!

Despite intentions to be so at times, I have never been one of those women who can contain her good news more than a day or so. I am, and always have been, an open book, and when I'm pregnant I want the world to know.

So, world, I am pregnant! Joe and I are expecting a baby in late summer of 2009. While I'm too tired to copy Madeleine's reaction to the news (she shrieked for joy upon hearing that she was to be a big sister again) inwardly I'm shrieking with excitement.

Nutcracker

We took the kids to see "The Nutcracker" on Saturday and in addition to the fun of all three kids enjoying the performance, it turned out that greeting in the lobby when we got there was Madeleine's friend Anna (the soldier closest to Madeleine). Elisabeth was a little scared of the mouse, as you can probably tell from her expression in the picture.

After the performance we headed out to one of our favorite local haunts which, according to Madeleine, wasn't that fancy because, as she informed us, "I've been to fancier." They did, however, have kiddie cocktails, so it eventually won all three kids over.  (Their combination of good food, proximity and acceptance of kids won Joe and me over a long time ago!)

What a fun day!

Eight Days to Go!

As most readers might have guessed I'm doing a lot of shopping, wrapping and baking and very little blogging. The good news is, though, that I'm feeling much more prepared for Christmas than I normally do. I have been determined this year to focus on and appreciate Advent without Christmas stress and, so far, I am succeeding. Blogging though, has suffered.

We're here though, safe and sound, buried under mounds of snow, enjoying our pretty Christmas tree, baking cookies and listening to Christmas carols and even attending three Christmas performances: Joe and I attended A Christmas Carol performed by the Milwaukee Repertory Theatre, Joe and I will attend the Milwaukee Symphony's "Cathedral Classics" performance this weekend with friends and Saturday we're taking the kids to see "The Nutcracker," which will be Elisabeth's first time seeing the production.

Only eight more days until Christmas, and I can't wait!

Madeleine's Christmas Wishes

Madeleine whipped out this list yesterday and slapped it on the fridge. Oh my goodness gracious; I don't think I started asking for a horse until I was ten or so, and even then it was one item on my Christmas list along with lots of toys.

Anyway, here is Madeleine's list:

My Christmas Wishes

1. horse
2. pony
3. foal
4. horse in labor
5. stallion
6. saddle
7. bit
8. stirrups
9. horse shoes
10. oats

Both numbers four and ten made me laugh out loud the first time I saw the list.

I hate to be a naysayer, but it's doubtful Santa is going to be able to fit a laboring horse into his sleigh. Think Madeleine will be disappointed?

So much for a quiet cup of coffee...

Ah, is there anything that warms a parent's heart more than the sound of two children screaming at each other?

Peaceful Day

I came here to post about what a wonderful, peaceful day we are having. Everything that could go right has. The snow is falling gently outside, the kids and I are at home, safely, wrapped in our pajamas, bathrobes and slippers (and this at 11:28 a.m.!) yet we've had an amazingly successful day schooling already: catechism, math, spelling, reading, grammar, Latin, piano, handwriting; whatever was on my to-do list for school today is done.

And yet...

And yet I can't write the joyful post I had intended. When I checked my email moments ago I came across something that changed my mood entirely. I learned that somewhere out there a family I don't even know just lost their son, a newborn baby whose name is the same as my own son. I don't know the family; I don't even really know the family who posted the message from my dear list-serve of Lutheran home-schoolers, but I do know that somewhere out there a family has just lost their new son. And while I am still thankful for the wonderful day we've had and while I know that bad things happen every day in many different ways, I also know that some things touch us different days more than others and, today, this news touched me.

Today I will enjoy the peaceful day we're having, but I'm also reminded to hug my children a bit closer and to remember a grieving family out there-- somewhere-- who needs some extra prayers.

Stitches

A couple of months ago I made the ill-fated decision to take Elisabeth into the bathroom at our local CVS after already leaving the store. Why? Well, once in the parking lot she announced to me she had to go potty. I should have ignored her. After all, she had a Pull-Up on and she had frequently made such pronouncements in the past only to arrive in the bathroom and be more interested in turning on water faucets and inspecting toilet paper rolls than trying to use the toilet. But the fateful decision was made: an almost three-year-old in diapers should be taken to the bathroom, even if it's futile, if interest is expressed.

Once in CVS's bathroom Elisabeth did try her best to use the toilet. She did. She actually sat on the toilet for five seconds, at least. And that's when it happened. After her lightening fast potty session (in which nothing went into the toilet that is supposed to) she jumped off the toilet too fast for me to grab her. And she tripped and fell... and fell right into the corner of a baseboard heater.

As soon as I saw the blood I panicked. I ordered Madeleine to run outside and get Joe (this was, after all, the beginning of what was supposed to be a peaceful family walk; I had run inside quickly to fill a prescription). The cut was small, but deep, so we walked home rather briskly and rushed Elisabeth over to Children's Hospital. There a short, friendly brunette whose name escapes me carefully stitched Elisabeth's nose after more than a few hours of waiting and now, a few months later, the wound is healing nicely.

Elisabeth was the first of my three children to need stitches. One ER visit for stitches in eight years? I assumed I wouldn't need to repeat the adventure for another few years, at least.

Not so. Last night it was Elisabeth again. The kids were dancing in the kitchen. Hank was sliding more than dancing, really, and slid right into the rug on which Elisabeth was standing. The rug pulled out from under her, causing her to fall. She fell hard and fast and didn't have time to break her fall. Her chin broke open, though this time the would was larger, but less deep. Once again, we loaded her up into the van and headed over to Children's Hospital. This time Madeleine came along to see what all happens in an emergency room and how it is, exactly, that you stitch up a wound. The wait time for this visit was less, though the wet, snowy roads made the trip a bit more treacherous. The doctor was again, female, but taller with shorter hair. She also very carefully inserted stitches in Elisabeth's face, though three this time, instead of two, and in her chin instead of her nose.

I love Children's Hospital. I really do. The doctors are great, they're so good with the kids and everyone makes it as easy as possible to be there under stressful situations. But I really, really hope we have no occasion to go back again for a long, long time.

Thanksgiving

Did you have a nice Thanksgiving? We did.

Madeleine learned how to use her new sewing machine,

Hank got to do a little hunting with his dad, grandpa and uncles

and Elisabeth played with siblings and cousins until she couldn't prop her eyes open for one more second.

A good, good holiday.

No!

The picture, taken this past summer, shows Elisabeth perfectly. No, not what she looks like, but what she acts like. If you say up, she'll say no. If you say jump, she'll say no. If you say put that down, she'll say no. In fact, if you say anything, she'll say no. Can you hear me? Elisabeth, can you turn around so I can take your picture?

No!

Elf Yourself

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

So, it turns out this Elf Yourself site is just as much fun as it was last year. More, in fact, since now you can add up to five elves and choose different dances and things. Fun!

Empty House

Late last night Joe and Hank left for a few days of deer hunting.  Dad and Diana were nice enough to keep Madeleine and Elisabeth in Silver Lake one more night so I had an entire evening at home with no one else.  Believe it or not, it was the first opportunity I have had to be alone for an overnight in this house since we moved here over five years ago.

Right after Hank and Joe left I walked around my quiet, peaceful, empty house and reveled in the the sheer emptiness and absolute quiet.  For twenty hours at least, any mess that would be made would be mine (Joe's coat wouldn't be slung over the living room chair!  Legos wouldn't be underfoot!  No American Girl dolls hair salons in the bathroom!), any noise I heard would be created by me (No whining!  No complaining!  No tattling!) and for that small amount of time my time would be my own.

It hit me right around 11 p.m., after I had spent the better part of my evening absorbed in a most excellent book, that I could have gone out if I'd wanted to.  I could have called friends. I could have gone out for a nice dinner. I could have gone to see a movie.  Heck, I could have done anything and I wondered if maybe there was something wrong with me because as much as I love my friends and eating out and seeing movies and as much I would have enjoyed doing any number of things, I never even questioned-- nary a thought crossed my mind-- that once the house was my own I would stay there, utterly and perfectly alone for however long my family would allow it.

My girls are back now, and new messes are being made and their shouts and laughter are ringing throughout the house and yet I don't regret staying in and spending an evening alone here, even if that does mean there's something wrong with me.

Cold Weather and Food

You know what the worst part of my sixty-seven degree house with old drafty windows besides being chilled all the time? It's being hungry all the time for things like mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh, warm bread and all sorts of other kinds of stick-to-your-ribs types of food. Yeah, I can hide under bulky sweaters now because I need to to not turn into an icicle, but gee whiz, if I keep eating like this and feeling so starving all the time, what happens in June?

Please tell me there are others out there in freezing areas who are feeling hungrier than usual!

Settle This Debate

If you're a pickle person, what brand is your favorite? I am practically addicted to Classen Kosher Dill pickles. Joe, on the other hand, is a Milwaukee's pickles guy while I think they're so inferior to Classen's pickles that I hesitate to entertain debate on the matter.

So, settle the debate. Which brand makes a better pickle?

Birthday Wishes

A few weeks ago we made our annual pilgrimage to Door County to celebrate Hank and Elisabeth's sixth and third birthdays. The weekend was, as it always is, extremely relaxing and fun.

But one of the trip's highlights for me is the following picture. Hank has been asking for a Wii since last Christmas. And when I say ask I really mean talking about nonstop for ten months.  That boy really, really wanted a Wii more than almost anything that exists on earth.

So look, here he is, receiving his greatest wish as a birthday gift. The only question I have is who looks more excited, Hank or Superdad?

What We Did

I bet you're all sitting on the edges of your seats wondering what we ended up doing the other night. Why in the world hasn't she posted about what she and Madeleine did yet the other night?! I can't eat, I can't sleep...

No? You really weren't that interested? Hmm.

In any case, I ended up deciding simple was better. We already had an exciting Saturday in Chicago planned and were stuck in WFB anyway until Saturday morning because of an afore agreed upon carpooling arrangement with our friends, so I thought the emphasis should just be on being together. First off we went to Madeleine's favorite restaurant for dinner which, thankfully, is not McDonald's anymore (it's now Noodles and Co., if anyone really wants to know). We had such a terrific time. Madeleine barely stopped talking to eat and the entire time she kept smiling and sighing and saying Isn't it fun to have just us here? Madeleine then chose to go shopping (she wanted/needed new jeans) and then home for popcorn and the end of The Wizard of Oz.

It was a very low key evening, but we both agreed it was a tremendously fun time and something we wanted to do again soon.

What Should We Do?

Tomorrow Madeleine and I are going down to Chicago with a pair of friends (a friend for me and a friend for Madeleine, who happen to be another mother/daughter pair). Joe saw this as an opportunity to head north and prepare for the opening of gun deer season next weekend (apparently some Wisconsin hunters have been bow hunting for weeks) by checking his deer stand, sighting-in his new scope and all sorts of other things I don't really understand and probably never will.

But he, Hank and Elisabeth are leaving tonight leaving Madeleine and me with a night on our own. I have some ideas of what I want to do with her, but this is such a rare opportunity we have that I want to make sure I've vetted all my options.

What would you do if you and your oldest girl were left alone for a night? Would you go out? Where would you go? Would you stay in? What would you do?

Defunct Battery

Apparently lithium batteries don't hold their charge forever even when you diligently drain and recharge them, a lesson I've learned the hard way in regards to my now ancient Canon Powershot S410 (it used to seem so cutting edge-- and that was only four years ago!). My archaic batteries now take, at most, one picture even at full strength.

Do you know how easy it is to get a new lithium battery? Of course you do. Probably everyone does but me who seems to prefer complaining about the problem rather than proactively seeking a solution. Yeah, it's easy. Really easy.

So, hopefully, in a matter of days with a little help from the UPS delivery man and Amazon, I will be able to chronicle our lives digitally, once again.

The Morning After

First off, I want to extend my congratulations to Barack Obama and to everyone who supported him.  It is exciting when a candidate you believe in wins an office you so desperately thought they deserved to win and I'm happy for you all today. I know the feeling, and it's a great one.

I can't fault my fellow Americans for not embracing John McCain.  While on a personal level I find Senator McCain's career admirable, there were many, many issues on which I disagreed with him.  He never articulated what I wanted to hear and what, frankly, I think a lot of Americans needed to hear to cast their votes his way.

I am upset today, but not how you'd think, probably.  I'm upset with the Republican party which let itself succumb to the temptations of power, and the desire to hang onto it, no matter the cost. I'm angry with myself.  Yes, life has kept me busy, but I've been completely disengaged in politics since I stopped working in the field right before Hank's birth.  How can I complain about the outcome if I wasn't part of the process?  And, yes,  I'm more than a little nervous about the future economic stability of this country.  

In any event, I'm happy it's all over.  

Update: Ah ha! Once again Jonah Goldberg says it all perfectly.

Happy Election Day!

I hate election day.  I really do.  Already my stomach is in knots and already I feel like I want to throw up because I'm so nervous.  

I can't ever remember our country being at such a crossroads or an election being so critical to the direction the United States is going to take.  If we, as a nation, collectively decide that we want a person to be president who is going to shove more and more government down our throats, well, I will accept that.  For now.  

But I cannot, for the life of me, wrap my head around the idea that citizens of the freest country in the world want more federal government mandates, more government restrictions and more money being collected and redistributed by one of, if not the, most ineffective, inefficient entities that exist.  I accept it, but I don't understand it.

I wish I could say I am voting for liberty; for freedom, but in my opinion, neither of the two viable candidates really understands the concept, and the reality that government is not inherently good or desirable and works best when it doesn't exist.  But while John McCain may not fully embody someone who, in my opinion, fully comprehends the importance of liberty and the absolute necessity that we remember our country is a republic, and not a democracy, and why that distinction is really, really important, I am even more certain his opponent will give us the antithesis of liberty.  

If Barack Obama becomes president, I am not a doomsayer; this country will survive.  But our citizenship will be less free.  A country cannot centralize its government and create more government programs without infringing on its peoples' freedom and rights.  A citizenship may choose to accept the loss of liberty, and our electorate may choose to today, but we cannot get around the fact that we will be less free tomorrow than we are today if Senator Obama becomes President Obama.

I leave you with a few of my favorite quotes on this, election day.

It is seldom that liberty of any kind is lost all at once. -- David Hume

Government does not solve problems; it subsidizes them. -- Ronald Reagan

Man is not free unless government is limited... as government expands, liberty contracts.  --Ronald Reagan

Government is not reason; it is not eloquent; it is force.  Like fire, it is a dangerous servant and a fearful master. --George Washington

I predict future happiness for Americans if they can prevent the government from wasting the labors of the people under the pretense of taking care of them. -- Thomas Jefferson

When a government takes over a people's economic life it becomes absolute, and when it has become absolute it destroys the arts, the minds, the liberties and the meaning of the people it governs. --Maxwell Anderson

May God bless America.

Happy Halloween!

The problem with blogging is that, usually, the more you have to blog about the busier you are and the less time you have to actually blog. At least, that's been my story of late and I don't see relief coming any time soon.

So, a quick update; a picture of my little trick-or-treaters last night. It was cold and blustery but somehow the allure of Kit Kats, Milky Ways and Skittles pushed all thoughts of cold from their sweet little heads and smiles were found on all three kids. Their costumes? Madeleine was one of the twelve dancing princesses as she imagines the story (yes, I am convinced she will chose to be some variation of a princess each year), Hank was Darth Vadar and Elisabeth was the sweetest ladybug I've ever seen. Enjoy!

"If you don't vote, you're a moron"

One of the few election videos you really should watch. Those if you with kids nearby, there are a few colorful words, but man, this clip is really, really funny.

Don't Compliment Hank

Beware of saying anything nice to my son.

Each evening Hank is anxious to show Joe how well his reading skills have improved throughout the day. Hank's face breaks out in a mile-wide grin when Dad says, "Hey, Hank, want to read me a book?" Hank dashes to a basket designated for library books or a near bookshelf and grabs something he's worked on that day, settles into Joe's lap, and reads away.

Last night this scene played out almost exactly as written above and later, when Hank read the final words, closed his book, and leaned back against Joe awaiting his praise, Joe enthusiastically hugged Hank and said, "Wow, Hank, that was such great reading!"

Hank grinned and, without missing a beat, came back with, "Dad, you smell like worms."

Life After Favre

Brett who?

The Election

You know the one I'm talking about. The election that is consuming news channels, the blogosphere, and much regular discourse in my life both with McCain people and Obama people. One thing everyone seems to agree on is what a crazy, eventful election it is.

I'm engaged now whereas I wasn't before. Was it the Palin pick that woke me up? Probably. Or maybe it's the constant inundation of election talk and wanting to be a part of it. Or maybe it was taking a wrong turn downtown last Friday and seeing McCain's motorcade drive by and then, later, seeing the McCain campaign's airplane. Whatever the reason, I am solidly in the McCain/Palin camp whereas a few weeks ago I vacillating between voting for McCain and abstaining.

Why? Again, I don't really know. Maybe it's because I've really started listening to Obama and every time I hear him talk about the programs he wants to implement a voice inside my head overtakes his and it screams, "Higher taxes, higher taxes, higher taxes!!!" I can't get one of his quotes from one of the Democrat debates out of my head when he was asked about the capital gains tax. Obama acknowledged the truth that lowering capital gains tax rates actually increases revenues but went on to say he was in favor of raising the rates, despite the decreased revenue, because it was "more fair."

I can't decide if I'm happy I'm engaged or not. Between the tabloid media coverage and the vitriolic blog posts on all sides I think I'd almost rather go back to not caring.

First Soccer Game

I the suburb we live in, soccer is a way of life. Every soccer playing family (which has to be most of our community) has their Saturdays taken up with driving all over the village for various games with their various kids. The thought of giving up a perfectly good Saturday to watch kids play soccer has never appealed to me and, so, I never pressured Madeleine to rethink her decision to not play soccer after she decided she didn't want to. In past years I've patted myself on the back for this decision as I would sit in my living room on Saturday mornings while leisurely sipping my coffee and watching neighbors load their soccer playing kids into their minivans and station wagons and head off to various soccer fields around our town.

Well, Hank isn't Madeleine and Hank wants to play soccer. A lot. What was I supposed to do, say no because relaxing with coffee is more important? So today we loaded up our own minivan with our own various children and headed off to a soccer field in our town for a 9 a.m. game.

Here is Hank before we left. See the mile-wide grin? Hank has been asking since his practice Wednesday evening how many days until his game. The querying has been constant; Saturday morning couldn't come soon enough for the little bugger.

Once there, Hanker couldn't wait to get on the field and start playing. Here he is in action.

In Hank's league of Kindergardeners no score is kept, but Hank was well aware that he scored two goals for his team and he was quite proud of himself.

And the girls? They made a new friend and organized their own soccer game on the sidelines. OK, no. Madeleine's not exactly a sporty girl, so she didn't exactly play, but she did coach the little girls.

And my coffee? Eh, don't worry about me. I have a travel mug.

Elisabeth's Bag

People have often asked me what I do with Elisabeth while the big kids are being taught.  They understand, rightly so, that a loud, active 2.5 year old may not be the most peaceful companion while trying to teach a young boy to read or introducing a slightly older girl to the concept of diagraming a sentence.  

She does lots of things: plays in her room, plays in the living room, looks at books, or plays in the basement.  But most days she does this, right at the dining room table where the big kids are:

Yes, a bag of used workbooks, notebooks, and crayons that only appear during "school" time have proven again, just as it did last year, to keep the young girl happy and occupied for long chunks of time.

Ugh

What's wrong with this picture?

Everything. Absolutely everything.

Birthday Preparations

I said I would be blogging more regularly. Well, I meant it. It's just that a certain seven-year-old little girl in our house has a birthday on Sunday and I've been busy getting ready for the arrival and hosting of family for the event.

Oh, and I've also been busy setting up my new Lexmark printer/scanner/copier. I haven't had a printer for years and Joe and I have both gotten sick of me emailing him things I needed printed. Plus, Madeleine's Latin workbook for the fall only has one page of a drill she needs to repeat frequently, so we decided we a copy machine could be really, really handy.

And, yeah, I've been doing a fair amount of head shaking over the Brewer/Cubs games. I actually sat through the entire game last night. It was like driving past a car accident; it was so horrific I just wanted to look away, but just couldn't.

And speaking of birthday girls (which I was just a few, short paragraphs ago, remember?), do you know what she asked for this year? Guess. You'll never guess. No, not more things for her American Girl dolls, nor were books a noted request. No, Madeleine asked for a rug. A rug! She was leafing through a Pottery Barn Kids catalog and decided she wanted to change her room, so she asked for a new pink, white, and red polka dot rug. Who is this girl and what has she done with my daughter?

Brewers v. Cubs

Oh my goodness, I am so excited I can hardly stand it. Whenever the Chicago Cubs come to Milwaukee to play Brewers fans get excited. The rivalry between the two teams has always been heated but this series, which starts tonight, has taken the rivalry to a whole new level.

The Brew Crew is only one game behind the Cubs for the first place spot in the NL Central Division. One game. And they play the Cubs tonight.

Joe and I are actually going to a much anticipated Ravinia concert tonight (in Cubbie land) with Bob and Sarah. Hopefully the Brew Crew will do well early enough that we can rib Cub fan Bob (who, I'm sure will do likewise if the Cubs do well).

In any event, this is going to be a huge series for both teams. Go Brewers!

Camp

Tomorrow morning Madeleine leaves for her first sleep away camp. Granted the camp is only two nights long but still... it's sleep away camp! It's over five hours away from here so the other moms whose girls are going and I are staying at a hotel/spa ten minutes away from the camp (yeah, yeah, how lame and overprotective are we?). I'm looking forward to a girls weekend of relaxing, reading, and chatting.

The reason I share this, though, is that I won't be blogging. At least I don't think I'll be blogging. Not that I've been terribly great about posting every day anyway, but I didn't want to get the Walnut Grove trip properly documented before I forget it all but that, like my home-schooling posts, basement "after" posts, and others, I'm sure, will have to wait until later. With me it's always later, isn't it. Hm.

Walnut Grove Trip: Saturday Morning

We woke Saturday morning relatively early considering our late night of swimming and we were on the road by 9 a.m. or so.  Our destination was the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum but on the way we serendipitously stopped for some much needed gas.  That decision was fortuitous not because of the gas that was about $.25 cheaper a gallon than in Wisconsin, but because while we were there we looked through some brochures we had in hand and decided that, since it was so close, we'd take an unplanned detour and tour the Sod House on the Prairie, which ended up being one of the highlights of our trip.

The Sod House on the Prairie isn't connected to anything Laura Ingalls Wilder, at least not officially and, really, until we got there we weren't quite sure what it was.  It rests on an ordinary Minnesota working farm that just happens to be owned by a history buff.  In the 1980s, I believe, the history buff decided he wanted to make a sod house as it would have been made in the time of the early settlers.  He set about doing research, finding untouched sod and began his project.

What stands there today is a roomy sod house, an outhouse, a sod dugout house (much like what the Ingalls family lived in when they first settled in Walnut Grove), and a small log cabin.  These buildings are surrounded by natural prairie grass (but for the path that's been mown for easier walking; surely the owners don't want tourists getting lost in the prairie grass on their farm like Laura and Carrie Ingalls did in one of the Little House books).

First on the self-guided tour wass the sod house. 

The inside was rife with dresses, aprons, bonnets, and other prairie-wear and the kids wasted no time donning the trappings of prairie life in the late 1800s.

The inside was so fun and interesting too.  Not only could you see what the inside of a sod house might have looked like, but unlike most historical sites, you could touch, sit, and explore the furnishings and pretend you were living in that house.

Incidentally, the stove Madeleine is slaving away over in the photo above is the same stove Dad said he had in his childhood home in the 1940s only miles away on a farm in this part of Minnesota.

After leaving the sod house, we continued on down the path towards the sod dugout.

Diana and I both agreed that if we'd had to live for any considerable amount of time in a sod dugout, chances were good our families wouldn't have made it.  Dirt floors, ample room for mice, snakes and who knows what else to get in, not even to mention the time and effort to create heat, food, clothing, etc. I just can't imagine.

I don't know if you can get an idea from the picture above, but that one room and loft was about the size of the dugout house the Ingalls family moved into just outside of Walnut Grove (the book correlation is On the Banks of Plum Creek ).  At that time I believe the Ingalls family consisted of Pa, Ma, Mary, Laura and Carrie, which is the exact size of my family.  That room the kids are standing in was NOT large.  Oh, and Madeleine took a dim view of the idea that a bed might simply have ropes tied across for a mattress.

We had such a fun time exploring these homes, imagining what life was like for the people that lived in homes like them and, luckily, talking to the owners of the farm about how the homes came to be built and even about their appearance in a History Channel show called "Save Our History" (they appeared in an episode titled "Frontier Homes").

An unplanned stop, but like many other things in life, it's often the unplanned events that are the most notable, and that was true in this case.

Walnut Grove Trip: Friday

We left last Friday after the final day of Vacation Bible School around 12:30 p.m.; it was a late start for the four hundred forty-six mile trip from our home to Walnut Grove, Minnesota, one of the Laura Ingalls Wilder sites.  

The trip out was uneventful.  Not serene, not terribly quiet, but relatively uneventful nonetheless.  We stopped the van at this lock and dam on the Mississippi River and the kids were entertained for a few minutes by a rather large ship waiting its turn for the water level to be evened out. 

And then, serenity.  Dad and Diana loaded Madeleine and Hank into their car for the remainder of the trip while Joe and I easily chatted with Elisabeth.  We arrived in Sleepy Eye, Minnesota-- the closest we could find a hotel with availability to Walnut Grove-- around 9 p.m. Friday night and while cars were unloaded, hotel rooms checked into, and plans made for the following day, the kids and I (and later the remaining adults) jumped into the indoor pool and hot tub to unwind.

When Madeleine was 2.5 years old she could easily swim with water wings and, if prompted by an adult standing in the pool below her with open arms, would jump into the awaiting arms.  When Hank was 2.5 years old nothing could coax him into jumping into the pool, waiting arms or not.  Now Elisabeth is 2.5 years old and that girl the the craziest of the three.  Not only can she swim easily with water wings, she can twirl around in the water, point her toes out of the water, swim where ever she wants to go and she jumps.  Goodness gracious does she jump.  She cares not whether there is an adult anywhere near her and, in fact, an adult that's too close might to told to "just go 'way; I do it myfelf."  She does leaping jumps, twirling jumps, and cannonballs.  In fact she does any kind of jump Madeleine and Hank do and she does it with no hesitation.

Hmmmm.  This was supposed to be a short post since it was a short day, vacation-wise.  

We're Cosmopolitan!

I don't know if I can get on board with Carpenter's love of the Harley Museum, but everything else was spot on. Here is the L. A. Times article.

Milwaukee

Beer. If that's your first thought after hearing the word "Milwaukee," you haven't been here lately.

In the last decade, the country's 25th largest city has gone through such a massive revitalization that "cosmopolitan" is a more apt description than "blue collar." Have a Pabst if you wish, but there's a whole lot more to sample, whether it's microbreweries and organic coffee or modern art and architecture.

Joe and I have often (and by often I mean having three small children standards, which is, like, a few times a year and it usually coincides to our symphony attendance since Hotel Metro is across the street from the Milwaukee Symphony Orchestra's performance venue) had cocktails in the Hotel Metro lounge; maybe we were part of the hip set she saw sipping martinis? And Cubanitas? It's one of our favorite restaurants (and the mojitos really are that good).

Vacation

We just got back last night from a short but very, very sweet vacation.  The destination?  Laura Ingalls Wilder country.  We splashed in Plum Creek and we saw the pageant but saying those things and looking at their website won't do them justice; they each deserve their own post, complete with pictures.

But, as you might guess, I have clothes to unpack and wash, groceries to buy and children who have dearly missed their block friends and want to play, play, play.  But the posts relaying the vacation will be coming.  They have to; the whole trip was too much fun not to share!

She's so craaaazy!

How different are my two older kids?  Our church's Vacation Bible School clearly tells the tale today with its theme of crazy hair day.

This is how Madeleine chose to style her hair for the day when her entire class will be sporting wigs, hair color, rubber bands galore, and other weird things.  She's so craaaaaaazy!

Mom, she explains to me, usually I wear my hair in a half ponytail but today I'm going to wear it in a half braid.  

Watch out, she's wild one!

And then there's Hank.  Hank didn't even consider for two seconds not doing something stupid... er... crazy with his hair.

Hank wanted his hair as sticky-uppy as possible, he wanted glitter spray, and he wanted a hair attachment. And throughout the production he was laughing like crazy asking over and over and over and over Mom, do I look crazy?

No son, I thought to myself, but you sure act like it.

Checking in

Still here, just in the midst of summer busy-ness.  I home-school, so my kids are home all day every day, just like in the summer.  So why do I feel our lives are so much more crazed now when we actually have less we have to get done?

Pool

Yesterday we joined a pool for the summer.  Oh, a third of the summer is already gone, you say?  Yes, yes, but we love to swim and want to use it for as long as we're able.  So yesterday we joined and zipped up for a swim.  Closed.  Closed because a small child unloaded in the pool what should have been done in a toilet or, more appropriately given what happened, the swim diaper this child apparently should have been wearing but wasn't.  Closed for sanitization.  And today?  Today it's cloudy with almost certain prognosis of thunderstorms shortly.  Figures.

Temporary Basement Fix

This last rainfall solidified, at least in my mind, big-time basement renovations were going to have to wait.  Maybe forever.  Who puts up drywall and lays carpet in an area that leaks when it rains?

But I had to do something.  The ugly, dreary paneling was getting to me.

So, after the rainfall and before the clean-up, I painted.  A bright, cheery yellow.  And the kids helped me paint, which was fun.

Yes, yes, I need an after picture.  Yet here I sit on my sofa with a cup of coffee that is both the perfect temperature and the right combination of coffee and cream.  Oh, and all three kids are still asleep.  So no, I will not go snap a picture just now.  Blame laziness, blame selfishness, say what you like, but I am not moving from this spot just yet.  Later. I'll take an after picture later.

I won't say that I love it down there now, but I like it much, much more than I did before.  It certainly is bright and cheerful now and, besides dry, what else can a homeowner ask for?

Father's Day: Go Brew Crew!

Joe's Father's Day request?  Attending a Brewer's game.  With all three kids.  For me, it was an unhappy prospect.  Don't get me wrong, I like baseball and I like the Brewers, but three kids with all their squirminess and complaints baking out in the hot sun for three hours?  It sounded horrid, to be perfectly frank.  But Father's Day isn't about me, so tickets were bought to a 1:05 game to see the Brewers meet the Minnesota Twins in the last of a three-game series.

And boy oh boy was it fun!

First off, and least important, it was an exciting game which the Brewers ended up winning 4-2.  

But more importantly the kids thought it was great.  Our seats were way out in left field, really close to Bernie's home run slide (which he did whiz down after Mike Cameron's home run).  See him there, right outside of his dugout?

Here's our view of the field.  Ryan Braun is at bat in this picture.

Here's the happy daddy enjoying the game with his brood.  See that Hank has his glove on?  He was convinced he needed to be ready for the entire game for a wayward ball headed our way (none ever did).

After the thrilling victory and lots of yelling, cheering and, yes, even some jeering, the kids were invited onto the field to run the bases (as they are after most Sunday afternoon games).  Madeleine dutifully followed the rules and ran as fast as she could around all four bases, passing her brother close to second base.  And Hank?  He ran slowly, savoring the experience and even tried sliding into second (sliding is against the rules).  After a quick admonishment from a staff person sporting a Brew Crew Event T-shirt, he was back on his way (he's sliding in this picture, and Madeleine is just behind him).

At some point during the eighth inning Elisabeth managed to tune out the yelling and cheering and fell asleep.  After holding her while waiting in line to run the bases for quite some time, I turned her over to Joe to snap a picture of the little girl sleeping through her first Brewer's game.

All five of us crashed when we got home after eating a supper of leftovers and dozing during a chapter of The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  Still though, fun, fun day.  A new Father's Day tradition, perhaps? 

Last Day of School

Madeleine and I had her last day home-schooling earlier this week which I will blog about at some point.

But today was Hank's day. Today was his last day of school. My little guy was excited because, let's face it, what kid isn't excited about endless days of hotness, swimming and friends laid out before them? So Hank is excited that school is over. But he's sad too. He loved his teacher and he bonded with a lot of kids in his class and enjoyed the constant playtime (he dismissed any carpet gathering time or time spent at his table as "boring").

Right now excited/sad Hank is outside playing with the neighborhood brood (we just hit twenty-three kids on our block last Saturday!) but just a few short hours ago he was running up the sidewalk to the K4 doors (he's wearing a blue backpack).

And, then, just a few short hours after that, he comes charging out of the K4 doors for the last time (see the kid with a mile-wide grin on his face who's sticking his head up like an ostrich? That's Hank).

And that's it. Summer vacation has begun!

Rain Update

The basement seems to have dried up in most spots, thankfully. To put things in perspective, the local middle school is closed because of flooding and numerous local houses that have never experienced water in their basements had trouble during this last storm. These were extreme circumstances.

But, there's more rain in the forecast today, but tomorrow looks sunny so far. And, from what I hear, the violent storms producing the flash flooding and tornados are over. At least for now.

Long term I don't know what we're going to do. The drain tiles and palmer valve should take care of the wetness problem, just apparently not when we get 2.5 inches of rain per hour which is very, very unusual. I suspect we'll start with some regrading and mud-jacking the driveway in some suspicious spots. My answer Saturday night while moving the contents of our basement to higher ground and cleaning up gross messes was just to chuck it all and move. But given the reports I'm hearing of wet basements abounding, I think that's a pretty extreme reaction.

I'm in clean-up mode today. Throwing out old carpet remnants that lined my laundry room floor and washing rugs from the family room. After the basement is cleaned up and normalcy is returned to our chaotic house then we can start mulling over long term solutions.

Some good news: Elisabeth is feeling better. Completely recovered, I'd say. Oh, and we had the most delicious sandwiches ever last night. I'll share the recipe later today. YUM!

UPDATE: This is mere moments from our home. See why I feel thankful the damage wasn't worse?

It's raining, it's pouring, an old man is snoring...

I don't usually like to use my blog for whining, but today I'm going to make an exception.

Last night it rained. Buckets and buckets of rain. So much rain, in fact, that interstates were shut down and basements got much wetter than ours. But oh, our basement. Our formerly fixed and dry basement was soaked. We're talking standing water eeeeeeverywhere. But guess what? It's supposed to keep raining here until Wednesday. WEDNESDAY! And today is Sunday. Then we're going to have a day of reprieve, and then, yep, you guessed it- MORE RAIN!

Then, the frosting on the cake: guess what else happened this morning? Elisabeth is sick! YAY! Yes, throwing up, making messes kind of sick. Only problem is that my washing machine is in-- wait for it-- the basement. The very same basement that I have to wade through to get to my washing machine that I can't use because the laundry sink is alternating as a catchall for wet rugs and pillows at the moment.

I'm sorry for whining. While watching the news it appears others got hit a lot harder than we did, but it's my blog so I'm going to whine about stuff that affects me. At least for today.

Oh, and Big Brown lost yesterday. I was so hoping for a Triple Crown winner. *Sigh*

Hey, On-Line Shoppers

Before you buy something on-line next time trying googling the name of the store you're buying something from along with "coupon codes." I've done this the last few times I ordered something and more often than not there's been some code out there that has worked for my order. Sometimes it's free shipping, sometimes it's a certain percentage off but, no matter what it was, it always (save one time) saved me money.

Happy shopping!

Doctor and Running Updates

Some of you may still be wondering about my vague post a few months back about the lack of responsiveness of my primary care doctor. The even more observant may have noted my lack of running posts.

OK, the lack of running posts. Last summer I curiously noticed that when I woke in the morning my feet felt weird. When I would step out of bed the bottoms of my feet felt tingly, almost as if many tiny little pins were pricking my feet. But it would go away as I started to move around and I didn't give it too much thought. I'm just getting older, I told myself.

And then I started running last October. At first, as I said, I felt great. I was sore after my runs, but as an inexperienced runner, I felt this was somewhat normal. I can't quite pinpoint when my joints started aching to the point where I was sore in my knees, shoulders and hips when I woke and whenever I would kneel down or walk more than just a few blocks or anything, really. Again, I sort of attributed to aging. Yes, yes, I know I'm quite young, so feeling signs of "aging" at my age sounds absurd, but I really felt fine and couldn't think of another reasonable explanation. I'm also not a person that goes to the doctor often; I go for my annual physicals, but that's about it. And I certainly wasn't about to go with vague symptoms that I wasn't able to describe well. Plus, I never felt that bad and, as I said, I figured it was normal to a degree. And then there was the exhaustion. All parents with young kids are tired, right? So it had to be normal that I felt like I was ready to collapse by 7 p.m. I felt like a failure that, gradually, I just felt too tired to go running at night anymore, which was a really bitter pill to swallow because I really, really enjoyed the time alone. And, as it turned out, I really liked running. But I just couldn't do it, and I felt like a lazy sloth. A lazy sloth who'd started something challenging and quit.

Then in March I had my regular physical. When my doctor asked me how I was feeling I said fine. Yes, honestly. And at 9 a.m., which is when my appointment was, I did feel fine. At least, relatively speaking compared to how I felt at 9 p.m. most days. But my doctor felt something suspicious in my thyroid. I hate the word goiter, but that was the word she used. Later, it would turn out my thyroid numbers from my blood test were abnormal as well. My doctor referred my for a thyroid ultrasound which showed enough suspicious growth that my primary doctor referred me to an endocrinologist who specializes in thyroid issues. Dr. Drobny, the endocrinologist my primary doctor referred me to, took forever to get in to see and, I will say, after castigating Dr. Reeder, my primary care doctor, in my last post, she was dutiful in calling consistently until she was sure I had made an appointment with Dr. Drobny and was following up on my thyroid ultrasound, which Dr. Reeder sounded sufficiently worried about (and thanks to my cousin H for the suggestion of calling Dr Reeder's nurse; I did that and she has been extremely responsive and proactive on my behalf. Great tip, so thanks!).

Anyway, I finally got into see Dr. Drobny a few weeks ago and she is wonderful. She is relaxed and I never once got the impression she was in a hurry, even though I know she's booked beyond belief. But best of all, I could tell she was abreast of current thyroid research (something I stupidly thought all doctors just did; you know, staying abreast of current developments as part of their job).

The growth on my thyroid is small at this point. Dr. Drobny is going to keep an eye on it, and we'll do another ultrasound in a few months, but she doesn't want to biopsy it yet. If it is thyroid cancer, which she doesn't think it is, it's completely treatable when found early and she felt completely comfortable waiting six months to see if it was even necessary to biopsy it. In the meantime, she ran a bunch of blood tests and it appears, based on the results that came back, that I have Hashimoto's disease, which is an autoimmune disease that attacks the thyroid and prevents the thyroid from producing the hormones it's supposed to produce which, in turn, manage and regulate many of your body's regular functions.

The bottom line is this: I received, and filled, a prescription for Synthroid, a synthetic thyroid hormone, and I feel fantastic again. Actually, I probably just feel normal, but after months of feeling absurdly tired and sore, it feels fantastic to just feel normal. I spent the weekend gardening, which would have killed me a month ago, but Saturday evening I just felt the plain ol' amount of tired someone would feel after a day in the sun digging and lifting and pulling and things. Most of all I feel so, so thankful. Good health is nothing to grow complacent about, and I know I never will again. I was making decisions about social activities based on how exhausted I thought it might make me feel which, at my age, is so beyond ridiculous that I feel absurd even typing it. But no more. Now I feel like every other young other with small, exuberant children: tired, but nothing a cup of coffee can't cure.

So, thankfully, that is it. Other than more frequent doctor visits and taking medication, that should be the end of the story and, hopefully, clear up any lingering questions readers might have had.