Summer Preview

I did it again. After another fairly relaxed (schedule-wise) school year with lots of free time to make plans with friends or veg at home, I have overbooked our summer once again. I don't regret it yet since, really, summer break only started yesterday, but I'm having visions of how I'm going to feel in August after waddling around all summer trying to get kids to their various activities on time.

I have to say, though, that Elisabeth looked pretty darn cute at her swim lesson yesterday-- her first organized activity ever. I need to try and remember to flash a picture of her today before we leave.

This Weekend Again

These pictures are from Hank's end of the season soccer party last night. His coach came up with a unique story about each player and Hank's distinction ended up being that he is a total goofball (true) and the hardest kicker which is also true; that kid can send the ball flying across the field like nobody's business. Maybe someday he'll actually start aiming. Hank was thrilled with his coach's words.



The team minus one player who was already on vacation and also including their assistant coach who was gracious enough to host the party.



Hank showing off his soccer medal which has already found a home right beside his bed.

This Weekend

We stayed up late last night with some new friends and, to be perfectly honest, despite the late hour, I wish they could have stayed longer because we all just had so much fun. Well, at least Joe, the kids and I did though I suppose I shouldn't speak for our guests. Being tired-- and having tired kids-- is a small price to pay for a relaxing and enjoyable evening with friends, and one I would pay again.

But, as it is wont to do, the sun rose again on a new day this morning and with it a schedule packed with a first baseball game, a last soccer game (until next fall, anyway) and a soccer party tonight. Hank has declared after only one game that he loves baseball. I'm fairly certain that if you put Hank on any sort of sport's team and give him a uniform and a competitive objective that he'll love the sport, but he thinks it's novel every time he loves a new sport. Here are some pictures of the little slugger.

Waiting on second base to be hit home (in the dark green jersey).



Running to home plate.



After making it around the bases Hank saw my camera and just stood there and smiled. When I didn't take the picture quickly enough Hank just said, "Mooo-om!" and stood there smiling once again. I took the hint.



Racing his own team's shortstop to scoop up a ground ball.



The soccer game was fun too, especially since a good friend I haven't seen in awhile was there watching her daughter play Hank's team. It was fun to cheer for the Kangaroos one last time this season and to notice how far all the kids-- virtually absent of soccer knowledge at the beginning of the season-- have come since last fall.

And now we're back home. The kids are resting, I have pies cooling for tonight's party at one of Hank's soccer teammate's house. Hank hasn't taken his soccer uniform off since we got home over two hours ago and my guess is he's going to be wearing it a lot this summer.

Broken

Tuesday night Madeleine stood on the upstairs toilet to try and reach something in the medicine cabinet. Joe and I have told her eight hundred million, kazillion times to please not stand on the toilet b/c it puts too much stress on the hinges of the toilet seat cover and, besides, there's nothing in the medicine cabinet she needs or should have anyway. So, despite our warnings to not stand on the toilet seat she decided to ignore us and, yep, tore the toilet seat cover plum off. We now have a toilet seat coverless toilet until I can get to the hardware store (chances of that happening today? Magic 8 Ball says: "My sources say no"). On a scale of one to ten, this hits my irritation level at about a five or six.

Yesterday I made the kids popovers for breakfast. About thirty minutes after I had pulled the popovers out of the oven and closed the oven door the oven door literally just FELL OFF. No one was touching it, no one was near it (thankfully!), nothing. The kids and I just sat and stared at it for about a solid minute with our mouths hanging open. I was able to jam the door back on somehow, but there's no doubt that oven is on its last legs. Irritation level? Oh, about an eight.

Yet today is a new day. The sun is shining, the house is relatively clean and the kids are only doing a moderate amount of whining. As long as the refrigerator door doesn't spontaneously fall off, I think we'll be fine.

Storm Tracking

A few hours ago the local TV stations meteorology departments were in full on panic mode talking about the thunderstorms that were moving into the area. I don't know if you know this about me or not, but I'm obsessed with the weather (as a side note, if anyone is interested, my favorite site to check the local weather is WISN 12; their interactive radar is the coolest), so I had the radar up on my computer and had the local news on. I don't do this because I'm scared, I do this because besides my obvious issues of simply being obsessed with the weather and storm tracking, I really love thunderstorms. I was excited and wanted to know when to go to the window to watch the storm moving in.

My kids were excited too. As Madeleine pointed out, "Maybe we can have a cozy book night!" And then it started to rain. We got a crack or two of thunder and then... nothing. The clouds moved out over the lake and the sun came out.

Not long after Hank's friend A______, who lives three houses down, stopped over to see if Hank could play. As I heard them chatting at the door I heard A_____ say, "Did you guys have to go in your basement? We did because of all the bad storms." Hank's response? "No, I guess the storm must have only gone by your house. Or maybe our house is stronger."

Titanic: A Confession

I am embarrassed to admit this, but when Titanic was first released in movie theaters back in 1997 I saw it more than once. More than two times, even. Actually, I can't remember how many times I paid to see it when it was in the theaters, although the number five sticks in my head. The real answer though is way too many.

But it gets worse. Eventually it was released to video and I bought a copy. And watched it. Again and again and again.

Somehow I got it all out of my system (or, more probably, I met and married Joe and he refused to watch it) and my copy got shoved to the back of our video cabinet. I had not watched the movie in eight, almost nine years until last night. Last night TBS (or was it TNT?) was playing the movie and since Joe was busy pouring over legal paperwork I decided to watch it and see if it still held the same magic it once did to my college-aged self.

In a word, NO! Oh my goodness-- what was my college self thinking? That movie is just awful! The acting was decent, but the scriptwriting! Ew, ew, EW! Who thought it would be a good idea to write lines like "A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets..." or "They've got you trapped, Rose, and sooner or later that fire that I love about you..."? And what possessed Winslet and DiCaprio to utter such trite, poorly written words? And the writing of the characters; could they possibly have been more stereotypical? Ooooh, the rich fiance who is selfish, mean and controlling, or how about the poor boy trapped in third class without one flaw to mar his character. How groundbreaking!

I remember being annoyed with Hollywood that year for sneering at Titanic and for holding their noses when its director James Cameron accepted his award for Best Picture at the Oscars. Now I can only sympathize with them and hold my nose right along with them.

The only upshot of last night, besides prompting me to confess my ridiculous obsession to all the world and see the error of my ways, is that now I can finally clear out some space in our video collection.

Rhubarb

When I was a child I hated rhubarb season. Mom was a big dessert person and made them often, but in late spring, once her rhubarb was ready to harvest, the desserts all began to have one common denominator: rhubarb. I ate them grudgingly but always secretly couldn't wait until the rhubarb was all gone and we could get back to non-rhubarb desserts.

I don't know when it happened, but sometime in the past few years I started craving rhubarb desserts. Last year I finally bit the bullet and planted some rhubarb plants in our yard, but I can't harvest any until next year (and even then only sparingly). Well, wonder of wonders, Dad brought up a huge grocery bag of rhubarb yesterday full of freshly picked rhubarb that he was given by a friend.

Right now I have this cooling on my prep table:




It's rhubarb oatmeal pie and I can't wait to dig into it. In a few minutes I'm going to start a rhubarb compote which was, funnily enough, my absolute least favorite, most dreaded rhubarb concoction that Mom made every spring. Funny how time and maturity can change your taste buds.

Noise

My kids are not quiet, as kids go. I don't know that any kids are ever really quiet, but mine are extra not quiet.

So could someone please tell me why on earth my already loud children think they need to use a microphone to be heard!? Ugh, my ears are ringing and it's only 8:30 a.m.

Escape

When the kids are really being loud and obnoxious I have developed a plan of escape. I grab Joe's alarm clock/radio, turn on Charlie Sykes (local conservative talk radio host) and take a shower with the bathroom door shut tight and instructions to the kids that they're not to open the door unless the house is on fire. Sure, I end up frustrated with he current state of affairs in our state and nation, but at least by the time I get out the kids are back in my good graces.

Strong Willed Children

I made the mistake of categorizing a younger Hank as my spirited, strong-willed child. He had all the indicators and, to a degree, still does. After butting heads with him for his whole life I assured myself that any child that might come after him would be a more typical child like Madeleine. Oh, I don't mean to say Madeleine never misbehaves- of course she does-- but her misbehavior is more of the expected types of naughtiness that people expect from children, not the mentally draining, constantly exasperating child who continually feels the need to exert his or her independence and challenge every assertion a parent might make.

For us, Hank was our mentally taxing child. Or, so we thought.

Turns out he's got nothing on little Elisabeth. Boy oh boy, that girl is something, let me tell you. Part of it, I know, is her age. Or, at least that's what I'm going to keep telling myself on days like today.

Peppery Wisconsin Mascarpone Pasta Sauce with Bacon

I love, love, love this pasta. Love it! It's so easy, so yummy and, depending on the phase of the moon, the kids will even eat it (last time I made it they had seconds, last night Madeleine said she hated it).

2 tbsp. olive oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed
2 shallots, diced
1 c. onion, diced
8 slices thick-sliced pepper bacon, cut in strips 1 in. long (if peppered bacon not available, add 1 tsp. course ground pepper)
14.5 oz. can diced tomatoes
8 oz. can tomato sauce
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. pepper
8 oz. Wisconsin Mascarpone cheese
3 tbsp. fresh basil leaves, julienned

Heat oil in large saute pan. Add garlic, shallots and onions; saute over medium heat until tender, about 5 mins. Do not brown. Stir in bacon. Raise heat to medium high and cook until bacon cooks through but does not crisp (if I'm dealing with especially fatty bacon I usually cook it almost completely through in the microwave before this step so that I can drain some of the fat). Add diced tomatoes and tomato sauce. Salt and pepper to taste. Simmer about 15 to 20 min., or until sauce thickens and reduces a little. Off heat, add Wisconsin Mascarpone cheese and basil. Stir well.

Toss with about 1/2 lb. cooked pasta (I prefer fettuccine, but any long, hollow pasta would be great).

Name Ideas

I'm taking suggestions. We're desperate here for girl names for this new little girl. We have a couple favorites, but nothing that we have hit upon where we've thought, "Ah ha! That's it!" For what it's worth, we had those moments with the three other kids' names. Heck, we've had that moment for this baby's just-in-case boy's name. But for a girl? Nope.

I feel like I've gone through every baby name book, every on-line baby site and our family tree about 8 million times and yet, still, nothing.

We need suggestions. Lots and lots of suggestions. No criteria, really. We tend to prefer family names and are, obviously, pretty traditional in our name choices, but at this point we're open to anything that we like. Suggest away!

Viking Fans Don't Want Favre

Heh, heh, heh.

What a coincidence; I don't want him anymore either.

Seriously, I loved Brett Favre. Loved him. But can't he just go away now?

Pin the Tail on the Pony

Madeleine believes no birthday party is complete without some party games so, for my birthday celebration this past Sunday afternoon in Silver Lake, she designed and illustrated Pin the Tail on the Pony. All attendees, large and small, were required to play.

First up was me and, thankfully, no one photographed my stint at stumbling around with a blindfold on trying to stick a black construction paper tail in the proper place. Spoiler alert: I lost.

I did get the group with Joe about to take his turn, though. 



And Dad, too. The kids thought it was pretty hilarious that he first attempted to stick the tail on the house instead of the picture of the pony.



The funniest moment, though, was Elisabeth's turn. Her best attempt at sticking her tail on the pony?



Yep. Her own rear end. Kids and adults laughed for quite some time over that little mishap.

And finally, the victor, my sister.



Her prize? A pack of gum. Oh, and a lot of laughs. Thanks for the game, Madeleine!

Now We Know

A woman, who's about our age, from our church just called Joe to ask a legal question and kept calling him Mr. O____. I guess that tells us which generation people at church think we belong to, even if our ages would seem to say otherwise. I was laughing when Joe told me and then I told Joe that I'm almost positive when she and I have talked before she's called me Cate. Joe's response: Well, isn't that almost worse? I'm still laughing.

Refrigerator Cleaning

For the most part, Joe and I do a reasonably decent job of eating leftovers that get shoved to the back of our refrigerator and, if we don't, we do modestly well at remembering to dispose of them instead of leaving them in the fridge to fester. Note, I used terms like "reasonably decent" and "modestly well" which, to me, implies that we do have our fair share of gross, unidentifiable containers of leftovers that I pull out of the darkest corners of fridge from time to time. Doesn't everyone? (If the answer is no, please don't tell me; I've got myself happily convinced this is the case.)

But what neither of us does well-- and I suppose since I'm the one home I take the bulk of the blame-- is actually cleaning the fridge. You know, pulling out shelves and drawers and actually using soap and water back in the recesses of the fridge that nobody likes to visit. Each time I do it-- and no, I won't tell you how frequently or not that is-- I am amazed at how fridge gunk forms. What is that stuff all the way underneath the vegetable crispers and, more importantly, how the heck did that stuff get there?

Today the gunk got to me and Elisabeth and I pulled out every item in the fridge and cleaned, scoured and washed. While I still wonder how that gunk got there and what exactly it was, I'm more interested that it's gone and can, once again, not cringe when someone outside of our immediate family opens our refrigerator.

Pathetic Gardening

Today is May 21 and I still haven't planted a thing-- no flowers, no vegetables, not one seed or plant anywhere. For the flowers that's not so abnormal, especially since we're still not entirely out of danger of cold temperatures at night, but for the vegetable garden, it's pathetic. Pathetic! I'm not going to have lettuce at this point until the frost comes again in the fall to kill it. Today. I must get the garden planted today.

OK, now it's written down, so it will happen... right?

Warmth

Yay! It was finally warm enough yesterday to do this...




and this...



and even this!



I love, love, love all this gorgeous weather!

Cell Phone

Last week I dropped my cell phone in my coffee cup-- my full of coffee coffee cup. I was outside trying to help one of the kids with something with one hand and balancing my phone and coffee cup in the other and my phone just slipped into the coffee. Whatever. No excuse necessary, it was stupid and now my phone won't work.

The silver lining is that our cell phone contract is up anyway so now we can renew and get some sort of free phone deal. But what's killing me while I look is all the extras these phones have. Sure I'd like to be able to check email remotely, but is it necessary for a home-schooling mom to be available to everyone eighteen different ways? No. I just need a phone that makes and receives phone calls. That's it.

Why does that seem like too much to ask?

Covered Wagon in the Dining Room

Yesterday morning just after the big kids got up they felt inspired to make our dining room table into the Ingalls' covered wagon and pretend they were traveling across the prairie. I tried my best to ignore the heap of blankets, pillows, books and other necessary items and had school in the living room, trying my best to ignore the disaster behind me. The adventure culminated with Madeleine and Hank sleeping in their covered wagon last night (i.e. under the dining room table). When they woke this morning both raved at how fun and comfortable it was. They're already planning an encore sometime soon with Elisabeth, who was meant to be included, but fell asleep by accident just after supper time.

Next time I'll take a picture; the whole scene was pretty elaborate.

Joe on TV

Hey, it's not every day your husband makes the local news.

Here's the link.

Joe was told by one reporter that he had on a great tie for TV. I agree; doesn't he look handsome?

Chores

I am starting to realize just how capable of housework my older two children are. Lucky them.

Elisabeth Bakes

This picture of Elisabeth baking just makes me laugh. She's started doing the hand-on-hip thing more and more lately and, for some reason, seeing a three-year-old in that pose is just comical.

2009 WPA Convention

As always, the Wisconsin Parent's Association home-schooling conference was informative and useful. I came home last night with lots of good ideas and, most importantly, a fresh outlook and attitude. I now more think of this annual weekend as a cheerleading session than a chance to learn things (which happens too). It's nice to know that there are others like Joe and me out there and even though I logically know they exist and run into them in the cyber world, it's a comfort to talk, face-to-face, with those in the same boat we are and share ideas and frustrations.

The weekend was so much more than just a home-schooling conference though. Each year we're lucky enough to have my in-laws take the kids for the weekend and Joe and I are able to have two and a half days and two whole nights totally on our own. The only unfortunate factor in all this is that we have a weekend alone in Oshkosh, Wisconsin versus, say, Chicago, or even Milwaukee.

I don't mean to knock Oshkosh. It's a fine place and certainly offers enough amenities for me to appreciate but, still, seeing the city always makes me sort of sad. Over the past few years we've seen truly unique and fine establishments (fine in their own right, not relative to the chain restaurants and hotels surrounding them) wither and slowly die until they eventually hang it up. It seems the entire downtown is a sea of "for lease" and "for sale" signs or, worse yet, just emptiness. Life in this city seems to exist almost solely near the outlet mall and aviation museum near the highway and that corridor offers little in the way of the unique.

We did, however, discover one little gem thanks to Nina over at The Other Side of the Ocean. "Didn't Nina blog about chocolate shops in the Fox Valley?" I asked Joe Sunday morning. He agreed she had, though neither of us could remember when. Google found the post quickly though and soon enough we were off to Oaks Candy Corner. We arrived before opening, however, and drove down to the marina instead and walked along the breakwater out into Lake Winnebago for about forty-five minutes while we waited. (The other Oshkosh candy shop mentioned in Nina's post-- Hughes Home Maid-- is closed on Sundays, apparently). Oaks Candy Corner's chocolates proved to be worth the wait and we were happy to leave laden with chocolate for ourselves and also as a thank-you gift for Joe's parents.

We arrived home last night around 4 p.m. after a relaxing drive home (with the kids) and I am still basking in the enjoyableness of the weekend.

Weekend Getaway

This afternoon we are home-school convention bound. The kids are going to stay with Joe's parents for two whole nights and Joe and I have two nights on our own. Woo-hoo!

I do, however, think it's funny that our big adults only weekend every year is a home-schooling conference... a weekend in which we listen, talk and think about kids.

Chocolate Fever

Hank told me that all little kids should read Chocolate Fever by Robert Kimmel Smith. Hank finished this book in less than a day (four chapters on the hour-long drive down to Silver Lake and the rest later that evening). I mention this only because Hank doesn't love reading like his older sister loves reading (i.e. to the exclusion of almost anything else some days). He likes it well enough, and as his confidence grows in what he's able to read (getting him over his fear of picking up a book longer than, say, a Magic Treehouse Book has been a challenge) he seems to like it even more, but Chocolate Fever was a real breakthrough for him in that it was longer than books he typically reads, the reading level was higher and-- the most important part-- it kept him engaged enough that he wanted to hurry and find time to get back to it.

A winner on all fronts, I would say!

Packer Game!

Last year Joe's aunt was kind enough to enter the Brown County Lottery on our behalf and won us four Packer tickets. They were tickets to a preseason game but still, for someone who had never been to a Packer game in her life, I was excited. Joe and I took the two older kids and we had a fantastic time.

This year Joe's aunt entered the lottery again and was again awarded four tickets. We were about to turn her down because of the new baby but then we discovered that they're regular season game tickets!!!! Oh my goodness, regular season home game tickets priced at face value? I am beyond excited!

I keep staring at the schedule trying to figure out which game we'll be awarded (we'll find out in July). I'm hoping for a later game, like November or December so we can easily leave Baby #4 (she really needs a name, doesn't she!) with my in-laws. One way or another, I am going to that game!

Too bad football season doesn't start for another three and a half months.

Lutheran Humor

So two Saturdays ago (the Saturday before Easter) Hank ran up to Joe with the following realization, "Dad! Tomorrow we can say the 'a' word again!!!!!"

Joe looked at me with an alarmed look on his face.

"Relax," I laughed. "He's talking about the 'a' word in the liturgy, not the 'a' word."

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.