Flower Calendar

Some flowers arrived for me yesterday. Not in the traditional sense, but in pictures. What a bright spot in a dreary day.

I fell in love with the Smith and Hawken Flowers Calendar in 2006. The following year I test drove their Secret Garden Calendar and that, too, kept gorgeous, blooming flowers in my kitchen all year long.

And now I'm back to the Flowers Calendar. My favorite. Isn't it lovely?

Rain, Rain, Go AWAY!

And don't come back again. At least for a few weeks, anyway.

Rain here for the past two (three?) days. Various showers and storms the week prior. Rain forecast for the next three to four days. My psyche can't take much more wetness, and neither can my poor, wet basement.

UPDATE: Wonder of wonders, our plumber actually called me BACK! He even thinks he might-- might-- be able to come out today and unclog our main drain which is backing up all the drain tile and causing all the awful water all over our basement (where all my kids' toys, our TV, sofa and the kids' computer reside). Here's hoping!

UPDATE (this is soooo fascinating, isn't it?): Between the plumber and the drain tile guy, they finally flipped over whose domain we fell under. The plumber lost, but so did we because they didn't figure this out until well after 3 p.m. and I've yet to hear back from the plumber. *Sigh* Another day of rain and sopping wet rugs.

Oh well. C'est la vie, no?

No Electricity

I realized the other day how warped my poor children will probably be as adults. The day was rainy and the kids, especially Hank, were tired. I was off somewhere by myself and Superdad was ruling the roost. Madeleine and Hank were tired. Bored. Cranky.

Hank looked at Superdad, pleadingly and asked, "Dad, can I please use electricity?"

Yes, we allow our children to use lights, clocks, etc. but what the "no electricity" order means for the kids is no TV, no Nintendo, no computer and no Gameboy. It came into being one day when Hank was feeling especially dedicated and asked if he could watch TV. I said no. He asked if he could play video games. I said no. He then ran through every electronic thing he could possibly come up with until finally, in frustration, I said,"No, Hank, if it uses electricity you can't do it right now."

The order is in effect the vast majority of the time and it is only lifted on occasions deemed worthy enough by the adult in charge (it's been a week or two since they last broke the order or I'm having an especially bad or harried day).

But really, it's funny, isn't it? I chuckle every time I hear little Hanker ask in his sweetest, cutest little voice, "Mom, can I pleeeease use electricity? Please?!" Can you imagine my children explaining as adults how, in the year 2007, their cruel parents wouldn't let them use electricity?

Chess

Superdad and I recently started battling over a chessboard after not playing against each other or anyone else, for years. Decades, probably. The kids noticed our activity when it first began last winter but, out of the two older kids, only Hank was interested in learning and playing. Last night Madeleine decided she finally wanted to learn how to play. I don't know if she is really interested or simply sees it as a clever way to escape bedtime but, either way, I'm happy to have another person to engage in battle.

If anyone is interested, I ran across this quasi-interesting website when trying to pinpoint the origins of the currently used pieces.

Oh, and when Madeleine was picking up the chess pieces she said, "How come chess is so complicated?" Indeed.

Digital World

When I was growing up my mom had a large, black, rotary dial phone next to her bed in addition to the main phone the rest of us shared in our downstairs hallway. I thought that clunky old rotary phone was the cat's meow because you could use it while lying on a bed. I mean, really, how great was technology, right?

My children don't know what a rotary dial phone is. The only place they've seen one is at a museum. They know a world where cell phones and cordless phones rule. They know they can email me from Daddy's phone. Elisabeth has four discarded cell phones among her collection of very favorite toys.

When I was growing up pictures where taken on rolls of film that you had to wait days or weeks to have developed before you could actually see them. Unless, of course, you were lucky enough to have have a Polaroid camera (I wasn't) and then you could see your pictures instantly (or, after five minutes, which seemed instant at that time).

Anytime someone takes my children's picture they immediately run behind the photographer so they can see the photo on the camera's display screen. And the picture is always on ready display because nearly everyone has a digital camera. Including, now, my seven-year-old daughter-- and she knows how to use it ("Let's review the pictures now, Hank, OK? ")!

We've gained a lot as a society but, sometimes, I feel as if we've lost a lot also. Remember the days when if you weren't available at work whomever was trying to reach you would just leave a message with a co-worker? On paper? They wouldn't have a five alternate numbers to try before giving up or, as a last resort, be able to email you anytime, anywhere.

Even more incomprehensible these days, if you tried to reach someone at home and they weren't there you had to simply try back later and hope you reached them. Frustrating, sure, but wasn't life a bit calmer and simpler before having three different voice mails to check and analyzing a caller ID log? Wasn't it more relaxing when you weren't expected to be reached, and respond, instantly?

I can't talk, really. My family and I have bought into all the digital devices that are supposed to make our lives simpler. It's just that, at times, I wonder if they really do.

August Recap

What a bad, bad blogger I've been. Excuses? I have none. I'll be better now. I promise.

Following is a quick recap of this past month's highlights.

August 3: Madeleine's "friend" birthday party at Pump-it-Up. They call themselves the "inflatable party zone" and, really, I can' t think of a better way to describe it. Envision a huge gym with multiple things to jump on, slide on, etc. Madeleine has been begging to have her party there for two loooooong years. Finally, we consented. Lucky girl.


August 4: Madeleine's family party. Our "small" family parties have now grown to an attendance level of just under twenty. Madeleine requested BBQ ribs and sweet corn. I was happy to oblige, and hungry family was happy to eat.


August 5: The beginning of the bubonic plague. Uh, I mean, strep throat.

August 9: All three kids go down to Dad and Diana's house, antibiotics in hand. I spend the next day and a half filling up Dad's Land Rover (I still prefer the Volvo XC90) with unused books, toys and clothes, supplying Goodwill's merchandise for the next eight months, at least.

Yes, this is an actual, blog-able event. The kids' bedrooms and the basement are clean and organized. Definitely a notable event.

August 11: Superdad and I head up to St. Paul, Minnesota to see a dear family friend get married. The weekend was perfect in every possible way. We got to see my brother and good friends we'd not seen recently. The bride was lovely, as was the reception and a wonderful, relaxing time was had.


So that's it. Any and all exciting news. Regular, uneventful blogging will resume again shortly. I'll just bet you can't wait.

Sick

If you're wondering why I haven't been frequently posting, yet again, I have two words for you: strep throat. And no, no, it's not just me, it has infected Madeleine and Elisabeth too.

I had all these grand plans of sharing birthday stories and pictures and having Madeleine finish her thank-you notes, but about all I can cope with right now is comforting Elisabeth after she takes her amoxicillin and she realizes that one teaspoon is all she's going to get (what's in the infant amoxicillin anyway; is it laced with sugar? My kids loooove it).

So anyway. Bah. Humbug.

Back later.

Flashback: August 3, 2000

Today Madeleine is seven-years-old. Seven. I still can't quite wrap my brain around that fact that here I sit with a seven-year-old daughter. In some ways she still seems so young, and in others so mature; so, so mature that it's hard to remember that's she's only seven.

I've never been one of those women who has embraced pregnancy as if I were finally fulfilling a life-long physical dream. I mean, sure, I always wanted to be a mother, but I learned quickly while pregnant with Madeleine, and even faster with subsequent pregnancies, that the sickness, fatigue and general feelings of cowish-ness outweighed any enjoyment I might have experienced while pregnant.

I think as sort of a joke, or maybe as payback for not appreciating pregnancy enough, God has given me the gift of longer than average pregnancies, each one extending longer than the last. Madeleine, as you might then guess, was the shortest of my pregnancies. She was born only five days past my due date.

I remember the day clearly. Labor began, as they often do, the afternoon of the day prior to her birth. I didn't realize that's what it was at the time, of course; I attributed the contractions to more Braxton-Hicks, or warm-up, contractions. Other mothers who have been overdue will understand this: you reach a point in your pregnancy, well after your arbitrarily designated "due date," where you just sort of give up and figure pregnancy is a condition that will plague you for a lifetime. Silly, I know, but it's how you come to think and feel.

By early evening I was finally convinced that the contractions might really be the real thing. I panicked. I called Terri, my only friend who had ever experienced labor, and asked her opinion. She offered the only advice possible from a friend sitting on the other end of a phone line over sixty miles away, "Um, it could be labor."

It was. After multiple visits to the hospital, and enduring the embarrassing ordeal of being sent home by nurses because I wasn't far enough along in my labor to be at the hospital, the irritation of Superdad falling asleep while timing my contractions and the final exciting moments of knowing that, within minutes, I was to become a mother, Madeleine was born on Thursday, August 3 at 3:39 p.m.

With Madeleine we hadn't found out the sex; we wanted to be surprised. The moments following her birth were a blur: the realization I had a daughter, a mop of thick, brown hair, hearing our families in the hallway, not ten feet from our door, chomping at the bit to meet who, for some, was a first grandchild and who, for others, was the second.

At times I feel as if the following seven years have been just as much of a blur as the moments following her birth; some moments are clear and locked away in my memory, undisturbed and perfect and others are difficult, if not impossible, to recall.

But one overriding thought exists: the past seven years have been much more beautiful, meaningful and, mostly, enjoyable, than they ever could have been without the gift of my sweet little Madeleine.

Happy birthday, Peanut!

Busy Week

Friday is Madeleine's birthday. She's having a friend party (Friday) and a family party (Saturday) this week.

My niece and nephew are here for the week as well.

I've got a lot of fun activities planned for the (five!) kids, but who knows how clean my house will be on Saturday when family descends. Or if they'll even be a birthday cake.

Needless to say, pretty sure I won't be blogging much.

Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH

I still remember reading this book as a child. It was assigned reading in sixth grade over our Christmas break. That was the year my family and I went to St. Barthélemy in the French West Indies. Beaches are, and always have been, one of my favorite reading spots. The warm sand and the hot sun are the most inviting combination to pleasurable reading that I can imagine. I felt that way when I was twelve, just as I do today, and I easily recall reading this book while hearing the ocean waves crashing just a few feet away. Mostly though, I recall loving this book.

Imagine my delight when Madeleine and Hank decided on this book for a family read. I'm not sure who looked forward to reading it the most: the kids or me, but it's safe to say we all loved it and all got swept up into the rats' lives, daring escapes and the plight of the industrious Mrs. Frisby and her sick son.

Madeleine and Hank won't remember reading Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH on the beach, feeling the hot sun while Justin directed his rat friends out of Nimh or hearing the tumbling surf as the Frisbys' cinder block home was moved, but they will recall (I hope!) lying in our living room on Major Book Nights, munching on popcorn and discussing, after the reading of the book's final pages, who the two rats left behind could have possibly been.

Welcome, Delaney!

Some dear friends of ours recently had their first baby, a sweet little girl who they named Delaney. Isn't she cute?


After Delaney was born Superdad and I gave her tired, new parents about, oh, say, 2.7 seconds by themselves after arriving home before descending to meet our new Goddaughter. She has the most smooth, soft wrinkly little baby skin, sweet little baby grunts and that perfect baby smell that keeps women around the globe reproducing.

Our kids were delighted with her too. Madeleine spent eons staring at Delaney, pleading with her soulful eyes for Delaney to ask her mom if Madeleine could hold her just once. Since Delaney can't talk yet, Superdad had to intervene for shy Madeleine.


So, yeah, the kids were really delighted with Delaney. Hank just couldn't contain his excitement...


...for Delaney's dog, Lucky.

I'm not quite sure Hank ever even gazed at Delaney or tried to listen to one baby coo (who could hear over the barking?), but he did entertain Lucky for a time. How long? Oh, just the entire time we were there. Think the boy maybe wants a dog?

Sadly for my children, at one point Delaney needed to be whisked upstairs for a diaper change. However would they entertain themselves? Don't worry, the clever little terrors soon figured out a great game: pretending Elisabeth was a newborn and giving a test run to all of Delaney's new stuff.


Elisabeth thought it was a great game. Luckily for her, so did Delaney's super-relaxed parents.

Congratulations, Mike and Tarra; Delaney is super cute and I can't wait to see her again!

Teenagers

Madeleine has a new game she and her friends have been playing. It's called "Teenagers." What does one do when playing Teenagers? Well, let me quote Madeleine, "Oh, you know, lie around, read magazines, talk... you know, teenager stuff."

Oh.

How is it that she knows about teenager stuff? The oldest child on our block isn't quite ten. Are a love of loafing and self-indulgent introspection an innate knowledge that all children, born and pre-born, just have? Is it planted there as a beacon of hope for overworked, overplayed children? A glimpse of what's to come?

To make matters worse, my little girl, not even quite seven, is starting to look older. We found the hair clip she's wearing in the pictures below on the clearance shelf at Walgreen's and Madeleine just haaaaaaaad to have it to play dress-up (a nice, little girlish activity, certainly not one for little girls getting too big; too mature).

Little did I know her vision of dress-up with this hair extension clip-on thingy was really more of a hybrid of dress-up and playing teenagers: she puts on the hair clip, meets her friends outside and proceeds to strut around the neighborhood flipping her hair behind her shoulder at carefully timed intervals.

Sigh.

Happy Campers

Superdad and I talked to the happy campers last night. I think it's now safe to say that I miss them more than they miss me.

me: So, Hank, are you having fun?

Hank: (sounds distracted) Yep.

me: What have you been doing?

Hank: I don't know. Do you want to talk to Madeleine?

Madeleine: Hi, Mom.

me: Hi, sweetie! Are you having fun?

Madeleine: Yep.

me: Well, what have you been doing?

Madeleine: I don't know.

Our conversation, though longer than my conversation with Hank, yielded about the same amount of information. It was time for Superdad to take a turn querying the distracted campers.

Superdad: Hi, Madeleine! How are you?

Madeleine response somehow necessitates giving Hank the phone.

Superdad: Hi, Hank! How are you?

The conversation then ends. Superdad is left hanging only to hear Hank yell, "I want two hot dogs" and then Superdad can tell, by hearing Hank's voice in the distance, that he has set the phone down and walked away.

Punks.

Flashback: July 22, 2004

I've been combing through old emails and digital pictures lately in an attempt to organize my laptop. Probably a futile undertaking.

In any event, I came across the following picture, which was one of my mom's favorite pictures of herself. It was taken on a memorable trip to Washington in which she was treated to a private tour of the White House by a former senior staffer.


Can't you just hear her asking,"Yes, Ms. Thomas?"

Vacation, II

We're back from our too short vacation. Well, at least three of us are, anyway.

We had a fantastic time in (drum roll, please)... Door County! Really, I don't know why we all love it so much up there. I've grown so accustomed to our fall and winter birthday trips that I've fallen in love with the gorgeous views, the relaxed atmosphere and, of course, the swimming. We never have a bad time, we always seem to be successful at leaving any stressful thoughts or problems behind us when we get there and we never seem to run out of things to do.

This trip was no exception, but the only problem was I didn't really take many (or any) pictures. I'm quite certain, however, that the reverse would have been true had I had a new Nikon D40 in hand (hint, hint).

We rode horses, visited and toured a beautiful old lighthouse, swam (or course) grilled fabulously delicious bacon cheddar burgars, played a lot of cards and board games and made trips into a couple of the sweet little towns for ice cream and window shopping.

The only downers were leaving and, even more sad, dropping Madeleine and Hank off in Green Bay for a week (!) of camping with Super Grandpa, Super Grandma (Superdad's parents) and their cousins. Superdad, Elisabeth and I will join them on Friday (hopefully early Friday; again, hint, hint!)

It's good to be home though I don't quite know what I'm going to do with myself with only Elisabeth to occupy me for the week. Any ideas?

Vacation

I'm writing this in the lobby of one of my favorite places on earth; anyone have any guess where that could be...?

Next Big Hit

Madeleine has composed a new song which, I'm sure, will soon be playing on everyone's iPods. The title? It's so Annoying to have a Little Brother (who wants to share your toys).

Yes folks, be on the lookout; it's going to be a huge hit.

Web Browsers

I switched web browsers a year or more ago per the advice of Quantum Void, and have never looked back; Mozilla Firefox has just been that much better than Explorer.

Now my neighbor, a huge Apple guy, insists that I try out Safari and is adamant that I will love it and never want for another browser (until, of course, something greater is created).

So, I'm going to give it a whirl; a test drive if you will. What will I think of it? Any input?

Independence Day, II

Happy Dependence Day, everyone!

On our agenda today is a parade, a picnic, a festival and fireworks. Oh, and rain.

Good Friends

I'm lucky. I have some really great friends. But, like all friends, they all seem to be divided into groups: neighborhood friends, school friends, church friends. And, like most groups of friends, it's most common to see the friends most often who cross our paths in our daily lives so, for me, that's usually my neighborhood friends, school friends and church friends. They're the ones I run into at school, at the grocery store or in my front yard.

But another group of friends that I don't see quite as often is another group I hold very dear: my college friends. These are the friends who stood up in my wedding, and whose weddings I stood up in. The ones who knew me when I met Superdad (and took bets how long it would be before we'd break up, I'm sure!).

I was lucky enough to have breakfast with a few of them this past Saturday.


Aren't they cute? On the left is Kristine. I met Kristine on my very first day of college, at orientation. There was a third girl there, when we met, though I can't remember her name. We ended up assigned to the same dormitory and were fast friends.

Next to Kristine is Karen. I met Karen during my freshman year also, she was roommates with another good friend who was unable to be there on Saturday, but she and I really didn't get to know each other until our junior year when a large group of us rented a house together.

To the left of of Karen is me, obviously, and next to me is Carmela. Carmela and I also met freshman year and we did not like each other. At all. In fact, I remember being dismayed that all my friends liked her so well, and I know she felt that way about me also. After a year or so we got over it though and realized we dug each other. Now I think she's terrific and I'm not quite sure why it was we spent an entire year irritated with each other.

Poor Terri (oops T, your super-secret identity is busted!), my college roommate, couldn't be there, but somehow I don't think she minded too much since she's on vacation in Arizona right now and she looks like she's having a lovely time.

And Rachel, the sixth member of our group, was also traveling, but since she doesn't have a blog I can't direct you to where exactly she was, though she should have one because she travels a lot and goes to some really interesting places. But I'm sure they both missed us immensely and were just so bummed not to be able to leave their tropical locales and race right on back to Wisconsin, don't you think?