With only a few days left until Christmas I remarked to my father just last night that it was quite possible Isabelle's head might just explode right of off her shoulders from all of the excitement contained therein. The child has been something akin to a loaded stick of dynamite for the entire month of December, her little body a time bomb, bursting with enough positive energy, joy, enthusiasm, and Christmas mania to power a small city.
I have often thought if people who are sad around this time of year or live alone could just "rent" a kid for a couple of hours to remind them what a thrill it is this time of year before the big fat man arrives, then no one would be depressed. For instance, I just returned from my grocery shopping today armed with carrots, as my daughter requested, for after visiting with Santa at her school last week, she informed me the reindeer could not possibly eat anything else. Why you ask? "Because Mom, Santa said that candy and sugar will make the reindeer do loop-de-loops with the sleigh." (this said with a very serious and solemn face). So, this house will be leaving carrots out for the reindeer this year.
As another pocket on the advent calendar is opened, I try to remind myself not to let the days just slip by unnoticed, to not get lost in the business of wrapping and baking and rushing that comes with the holidays. All too soon this Christmas will be behind me and Isabelle will be another year older. Although, if Isabelle is like me at all, old St. Nick will always be magical to her, regardless of how grown-up she becomes. Merry Christmas everyone.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, October 11, 2010
Painting
My fall days have a certain rhythm and color to them. Blaze red is the dominant hue, fitting for fall, but for me the color of September and October because it is the shade of my kitchen cabinets in our camp, and I am in the process of finishing them. The base cabinets are installed and done, the countertop is ordered. The upper cabinets are scattered on the floor of my garage... six doors on saw horses, shiny with their third and final coat of semi-gloss Blaze red, the cabinet boxes sprawled around them like wounded soldiers, covered in their primer coat which is, funnily enough, pink. Next for them will come sanding, vacuuming, and three coats of red. And still, six more small doors, wait stacked in a corner as yet, untouched.
When Isabelle is in school I am there, brush in hand, radio perhaps playing in the background, watching the paint flow from the brush, back and forth in smooth motions, witnessing how the doors change from rough wood to something sleek and glossy. I like how the wood grain still shows through, letting you know that you can dress it up, but it is still going to be what it always was. Something solid to hold onto. Something that lasts like a memory. Hopefully, like our camp will be for our family.
I do not know what it is about painting, but it has always possessed a zen-like quality for me, even now when I am getting heartily sick of it, after painting all of the rooms, interior doors, and even a set of closet doors for camp this summer, it still quiets my mind. Perhaps because it is simple... at the end I look around and I see what I have accomplished. There is satisfaction in seeing what your hands have done. Perhaps because so much in this world is not black and white, done or not done. I relish the fact that in this instance I have an achievable goal, and even more wonderful, I know what the final product, the outcome, will be. So, I seek my solace in painting when all life's what if's and everything I cannot control become too much. For now, I will narrow my focus to painting the most beautiful blaze red upper kitchen cabinets anyone has even seen.
When Isabelle is in school I am there, brush in hand, radio perhaps playing in the background, watching the paint flow from the brush, back and forth in smooth motions, witnessing how the doors change from rough wood to something sleek and glossy. I like how the wood grain still shows through, letting you know that you can dress it up, but it is still going to be what it always was. Something solid to hold onto. Something that lasts like a memory. Hopefully, like our camp will be for our family.
I do not know what it is about painting, but it has always possessed a zen-like quality for me, even now when I am getting heartily sick of it, after painting all of the rooms, interior doors, and even a set of closet doors for camp this summer, it still quiets my mind. Perhaps because it is simple... at the end I look around and I see what I have accomplished. There is satisfaction in seeing what your hands have done. Perhaps because so much in this world is not black and white, done or not done. I relish the fact that in this instance I have an achievable goal, and even more wonderful, I know what the final product, the outcome, will be. So, I seek my solace in painting when all life's what if's and everything I cannot control become too much. For now, I will narrow my focus to painting the most beautiful blaze red upper kitchen cabinets anyone has even seen.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
The Train
There are train tracks that run not too far from our house and down the hill (what the entire local population calls the Bluff, for it is, actually, just that, which stretches all along the shore of Lake Michigan) from our little neighborhood. At the bottom of the Bluff is the rail yard where sometimes in the summer, when the windows are open you can hear the train cars clang together. Train whistles are common and, because of this often go unnoticed, even in the early morning hours, for as with anything you adjust to your surroundings.
Which is how I always know when I am more agitated or stressed or worried. I start hearing the train that comes through sometime during the 6:00 a.m. hour. Even when the windows are closed against the sudden chill of fall air, the sound pierces my slumber. The engineer has to blow his whistle at the one road crossing to warn any potential cars, and I swear he gives a shorter blast then typical on account of the early hour (as if apologetic to all of us still abed) and the very light traffic the road receives, but I awaken all the same.
Yet my mind is also like a freight train these days (heck, all summer) in keeping with our pace as we work on finishing the interior of our camp, attempting to stay afloat with all the day to day minutiae of running a household, and now with Isabelle starting kindergarten. My emotions have run the gamut that all parents do .... happy, proud, and a maybe a tiny bit sad to know one phase is over, but mostly anxious.... anxious because it is in my nature to worry and because I want her to above all be happy and content and to do well ..... what EVERY parent wants for his or her own child.
But we get on many new trains during the course of our lives so, we climbed on board our new one this week and Isabelle went off to elementary school and had a fantastic first day as we told her she would despite her own jitters. And despite my over-active mind, and the six a.m. train whistle I keep hearing I too, am going to enjoy this ride just like I have enjoyed all the others. Sometimes you just have to get used to the sound of the wheels on the tracks.
Which is how I always know when I am more agitated or stressed or worried. I start hearing the train that comes through sometime during the 6:00 a.m. hour. Even when the windows are closed against the sudden chill of fall air, the sound pierces my slumber. The engineer has to blow his whistle at the one road crossing to warn any potential cars, and I swear he gives a shorter blast then typical on account of the early hour (as if apologetic to all of us still abed) and the very light traffic the road receives, but I awaken all the same.
Yet my mind is also like a freight train these days (heck, all summer) in keeping with our pace as we work on finishing the interior of our camp, attempting to stay afloat with all the day to day minutiae of running a household, and now with Isabelle starting kindergarten. My emotions have run the gamut that all parents do .... happy, proud, and a maybe a tiny bit sad to know one phase is over, but mostly anxious.... anxious because it is in my nature to worry and because I want her to above all be happy and content and to do well ..... what EVERY parent wants for his or her own child.
But we get on many new trains during the course of our lives so, we climbed on board our new one this week and Isabelle went off to elementary school and had a fantastic first day as we told her she would despite her own jitters. And despite my over-active mind, and the six a.m. train whistle I keep hearing I too, am going to enjoy this ride just like I have enjoyed all the others. Sometimes you just have to get used to the sound of the wheels on the tracks.
Monday, August 9, 2010
This and That and Everything Else
Whoever invented the phrase "the lazy days of summer" has not been living my summer. Is it fall yet? Holy cow! Holy Whah! (That is Yooper phraseology for you clueless types) Holy Batman! ( I just like to say that one, and I have no idea why). In a whirlwind of mowing lawns, taking Isabelle to soccer, running errands, working on camp, painting various parts of camp, visiting family, going on play dates, cleaning house, teaching Isabelle to ride a bike with no training wheels (yes, big girl now!), going to the beach, and did I mention being a slave to working on camp? It has been an INSANELY busy, chaotic,summer. Mostly in a good way, mind you.
Camp is looking fantastic. We have walls.... and they are even painted now, thanks to me. We have a bathroom floor, a toilet that works, and beautiful red interior doors that are also installed. Today we had carpet laid in the bedrooms courtesy of a good friend. I am currently painting closet doors for the large bedroom, but it has been so hot and humid I have been dreading going in the garage to do more. We have had a few gatherings out there now with family and friends, and it has been wonderful and fun and makes us more excited for the future when we truly have it up and running.
Isabelle's soccer went well, although I think she was more into picking flowers in the field then being overly aggressive and going after the ball. Although, suddenly in the last two weeks or so something seemed to click with her, and she really started participating in the games more. Skill-wise she is very good and had strong ball control for a five year old. And hard to believe but we are not far away from the start of school. I already started getting her school supplies together and am checking what she needs as far as clothes for this year. Gulp!
I have mowed some serious lawn this year and have become quite adept at wielding the machine. My next house will not have such a big hill, I can tell you that! And a riding lawn mower would be appreciated, although my legs probably look better then they have in years, so I should not complain, right? In a cruel twist of irony we have had one of the rainiest summers in many years, so the grass is growing a ridiculous amount, making the lawn mowing outings very frequent..... too bad I do not get paid, huh?
We also sat for a professional family photo last week (just the three of us as well as my parents and my brother's family). This was no small undertaking, considering the large amount of adults in my family (myself and Clay included) who strongly dislike having our photo taken, but as it was a gift to celebrate my parent's 40th wedding anniversary we "sucked it up" and figured we had better get some shots of just the three of us as well, since the likelihood of us doing this again was slim at best. Of course, the most breath-taking shots were of the children (Isabelle and my niece and nephew) running on the beach at the end of our shoot. Holding hands, with pure joy etched across their faces, the sunlight glistening off their hair, our photographer, Jake, captured them forever in a stolen moment of bliss where the world was perfect. Years from now I wonder if they will look back at those photos and recall how that memory, that moment, felt. If they will remember? I hope so. Watching them, I know we all will.
So, here is to the "lazy days" of summer, insanity and all.
Camp is looking fantastic. We have walls.... and they are even painted now, thanks to me. We have a bathroom floor, a toilet that works, and beautiful red interior doors that are also installed. Today we had carpet laid in the bedrooms courtesy of a good friend. I am currently painting closet doors for the large bedroom, but it has been so hot and humid I have been dreading going in the garage to do more. We have had a few gatherings out there now with family and friends, and it has been wonderful and fun and makes us more excited for the future when we truly have it up and running.
Isabelle's soccer went well, although I think she was more into picking flowers in the field then being overly aggressive and going after the ball. Although, suddenly in the last two weeks or so something seemed to click with her, and she really started participating in the games more. Skill-wise she is very good and had strong ball control for a five year old. And hard to believe but we are not far away from the start of school. I already started getting her school supplies together and am checking what she needs as far as clothes for this year. Gulp!
I have mowed some serious lawn this year and have become quite adept at wielding the machine. My next house will not have such a big hill, I can tell you that! And a riding lawn mower would be appreciated, although my legs probably look better then they have in years, so I should not complain, right? In a cruel twist of irony we have had one of the rainiest summers in many years, so the grass is growing a ridiculous amount, making the lawn mowing outings very frequent..... too bad I do not get paid, huh?
We also sat for a professional family photo last week (just the three of us as well as my parents and my brother's family). This was no small undertaking, considering the large amount of adults in my family (myself and Clay included) who strongly dislike having our photo taken, but as it was a gift to celebrate my parent's 40th wedding anniversary we "sucked it up" and figured we had better get some shots of just the three of us as well, since the likelihood of us doing this again was slim at best. Of course, the most breath-taking shots were of the children (Isabelle and my niece and nephew) running on the beach at the end of our shoot. Holding hands, with pure joy etched across their faces, the sunlight glistening off their hair, our photographer, Jake, captured them forever in a stolen moment of bliss where the world was perfect. Years from now I wonder if they will look back at those photos and recall how that memory, that moment, felt. If they will remember? I hope so. Watching them, I know we all will.
So, here is to the "lazy days" of summer, insanity and all.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Mama Said There Would Be Days Like This
Sometimes I think God must be up there in heaven just laughing his "you know what" off at my expense, as he watches me try to negotiate this path called motherhood. I recall begging, pleading, praying, and practically offering to sell my soul, if I could just have a child during those couple of years of trying and failing with pregnancies. So, it seems to me it must have been humorous to the big guy to be able to give us our most-spirited Isabelle and say, "You want a child so bad? Here you go! Let's see what you got!"
Not that my child is like the Devil Incarnate or something because such is not the case (and do not misundersatnd me, I would not trade her for any amount of money!) but she is definitely a kid we could all classify as .... more in the "challenging" category of child-rearing. (Either that or I truly am completely an idiot mother, perhaps a topic for another post, as on many days I feel like one). Ironically, most of the personality-traits that are driving me absolutely insane at the moment (stubbornness, strong-will, assertiveness,) will be assets as an adult. The problem lies in that they need to be paired with self-control and respect. And why is it, can please anyone tell me, that a child who has never been given anything EVER when she whines STILL continues to whine when she wants something, needs something, doesn't get her way, or in general is just not happy? Whining has not worked for five years! Does she think that now, suddenly in the midst of the fifth, I might finally break?!
But this is the life and the two sides of my five year old right now for better or worse. Example One: My darling daughter threw a mad, full-on tantrum over (wait for it) what sandals she could or could not wear on a bike ride through the neighborhood. (In case you are wondering a full tantrum these days consists of yelling, stomping feet, screaming, and lots of general unhappiness). However, pair this with the same child, who in the store shopping is a perfect angel, helping put groceries in the cart, smiling at customers, even telling one lady that she "liked her shirt" and wished they "made that shirt in kid size." As we walk away from the same woman, she whispers to me (rather loudly so the woman overhears), "Mommy, wasn't she pretty?" I answer in the affirmative, and as I turn out of the aisle, catch a glimpse of the woman grinning from ear to ear, and I know that Isabelle has just made her day.
Example Two: Isabelle has a rather explosive tantrum over putting on a new four-wheeler helmet (in front of all four grandparents, no less, and do not lose it people; the helmet is for riding WITH an adult on the four-wheeler) after which I am left questioning my parental skills. Picture red-face screaming hysterics like I am scarring the child for life because I asked her to try on a helmet and protect her skull from harm. Yet, ten minutes later she puts the helmet on of her own volition, and it is all okay. (Mind you, she NEVER would have put that helmet on if I had not forced the issue to begin with.... I have been down this road many times with my daughter. Even though I am certain I looked like some kind of evil Nazi dictator at the time!) A day later she suddenly decides it looks cool and is decorating it with her stickers. But again, pair this evil behavior with the same child, who on her field trip to Public Safety, was the only child in her class totally not shy around the police and fire fighters and according to her teachers said to one of the officers, "Thanks for keeping our world safe," and shook the officer's hand.
Yes, there you have it. On one hand, you have the tantrum-throwing, temper-flaring, cannot be reasoned with, near out of control child, who at times acts more like she is three rather then five. On the other, you have a well-spoken, polite and incredibly helpful and thoughtful child who seems to be every bit the five year old. If I did not know better I would say I had two identical twin girls or that I was in some weird version of the "Twilight Zone," but I digress.
So, what do I honestly take from Isabelle's extreme mood swings? That she is a schizophrenic? Possibly (ha, ha), but more likely she is just five, and while I am alternating between pride and exasperation, joy and frustration, laughter and tears at her antics, I try to remind myself, she too, is negotiating through her own still developing emotions, and they are a lot to handle. And part of my job is to teach her how to handle them. So, I ask God to swallow his chuckles as I fumble my way through this and grant me PATIENCE and GUIDANCE and perhaps still even more patience. Isabelle and I will both survive her childhood (I just might be in a padded room when all is said and done!).
Not that my child is like the Devil Incarnate or something because such is not the case (and do not misundersatnd me, I would not trade her for any amount of money!) but she is definitely a kid we could all classify as .... more in the "challenging" category of child-rearing. (Either that or I truly am completely an idiot mother, perhaps a topic for another post, as on many days I feel like one). Ironically, most of the personality-traits that are driving me absolutely insane at the moment (stubbornness, strong-will, assertiveness,) will be assets as an adult. The problem lies in that they need to be paired with self-control and respect. And why is it, can please anyone tell me, that a child who has never been given anything EVER when she whines STILL continues to whine when she wants something, needs something, doesn't get her way, or in general is just not happy? Whining has not worked for five years! Does she think that now, suddenly in the midst of the fifth, I might finally break?!
But this is the life and the two sides of my five year old right now for better or worse. Example One: My darling daughter threw a mad, full-on tantrum over (wait for it) what sandals she could or could not wear on a bike ride through the neighborhood. (In case you are wondering a full tantrum these days consists of yelling, stomping feet, screaming, and lots of general unhappiness). However, pair this with the same child, who in the store shopping is a perfect angel, helping put groceries in the cart, smiling at customers, even telling one lady that she "liked her shirt" and wished they "made that shirt in kid size." As we walk away from the same woman, she whispers to me (rather loudly so the woman overhears), "Mommy, wasn't she pretty?" I answer in the affirmative, and as I turn out of the aisle, catch a glimpse of the woman grinning from ear to ear, and I know that Isabelle has just made her day.
Example Two: Isabelle has a rather explosive tantrum over putting on a new four-wheeler helmet (in front of all four grandparents, no less, and do not lose it people; the helmet is for riding WITH an adult on the four-wheeler) after which I am left questioning my parental skills. Picture red-face screaming hysterics like I am scarring the child for life because I asked her to try on a helmet and protect her skull from harm. Yet, ten minutes later she puts the helmet on of her own volition, and it is all okay. (Mind you, she NEVER would have put that helmet on if I had not forced the issue to begin with.... I have been down this road many times with my daughter. Even though I am certain I looked like some kind of evil Nazi dictator at the time!) A day later she suddenly decides it looks cool and is decorating it with her stickers. But again, pair this evil behavior with the same child, who on her field trip to Public Safety, was the only child in her class totally not shy around the police and fire fighters and according to her teachers said to one of the officers, "Thanks for keeping our world safe," and shook the officer's hand.
Yes, there you have it. On one hand, you have the tantrum-throwing, temper-flaring, cannot be reasoned with, near out of control child, who at times acts more like she is three rather then five. On the other, you have a well-spoken, polite and incredibly helpful and thoughtful child who seems to be every bit the five year old. If I did not know better I would say I had two identical twin girls or that I was in some weird version of the "Twilight Zone," but I digress.
So, what do I honestly take from Isabelle's extreme mood swings? That she is a schizophrenic? Possibly (ha, ha), but more likely she is just five, and while I am alternating between pride and exasperation, joy and frustration, laughter and tears at her antics, I try to remind myself, she too, is negotiating through her own still developing emotions, and they are a lot to handle. And part of my job is to teach her how to handle them. So, I ask God to swallow his chuckles as I fumble my way through this and grant me PATIENCE and GUIDANCE and perhaps still even more patience. Isabelle and I will both survive her childhood (I just might be in a padded room when all is said and done!).
Friday, June 18, 2010
Isabelle's Party
While it may seem like it, I did not fall off the face of the earth (though it seems I am not alone in neglecting my blog, as many of my favorites have also not been updated in many weeks). No, true to form, summer mode has arrived and as I settle in, I find it difficult to spare a moment long enough to write or when I do I would quite frankly, rather be outside then on the computer. I suppose I need to revert back to carrying my journal around once more and use good old pen and paper.
Regardless, life found me last weekend hosting my first ever kids' birthday party as Isabelle officially turned five. Picture eight children invading my house in a flower/garden party theme, numerous adults, an abundance of food and gifts, and you get the idea. The weather was less then ideal but did manage to not rain us out. Therefore, we still did do our watering can game and our bug hunt outside, but we were forced to pot the marigolds I got for each child in the garage when it decided to start misting a light rain. Of course, in my mind I envisioned a sunny, glorious day with adults in lawn chairs and the kids spread out on a blanket while Isabelle opened her presents .... reality was them crammed into my too small upstairs living room. However, the flower cupcakes my mother made were adorable, the kids all seemed to have a great time and enjoyed getting to keep the watering cans, buckets, marigolds and bugs from the games they played, and despite the crazy stressing I put myself through, it all came out fine in the end.
When I tucked one exhausted daughter into bed that night she told me that she wished she could have a party just like that every day. Earlier, while zooming around on her new scooter from Grandma and Grandpa, she informed Clay that it was the "best day ever." So, I guess that sums it up for me right there. It was all worth it. After all, they are only little for so long and while some of this party craziness may seem like a hassle, it will not be long when I will be looking back on this fifth birthday with very fond memories.
Regardless, life found me last weekend hosting my first ever kids' birthday party as Isabelle officially turned five. Picture eight children invading my house in a flower/garden party theme, numerous adults, an abundance of food and gifts, and you get the idea. The weather was less then ideal but did manage to not rain us out. Therefore, we still did do our watering can game and our bug hunt outside, but we were forced to pot the marigolds I got for each child in the garage when it decided to start misting a light rain. Of course, in my mind I envisioned a sunny, glorious day with adults in lawn chairs and the kids spread out on a blanket while Isabelle opened her presents .... reality was them crammed into my too small upstairs living room. However, the flower cupcakes my mother made were adorable, the kids all seemed to have a great time and enjoyed getting to keep the watering cans, buckets, marigolds and bugs from the games they played, and despite the crazy stressing I put myself through, it all came out fine in the end.
When I tucked one exhausted daughter into bed that night she told me that she wished she could have a party just like that every day. Earlier, while zooming around on her new scooter from Grandma and Grandpa, she informed Clay that it was the "best day ever." So, I guess that sums it up for me right there. It was all worth it. After all, they are only little for so long and while some of this party craziness may seem like a hassle, it will not be long when I will be looking back on this fifth birthday with very fond memories.
Friday, May 14, 2010
On the Bright Side
So, my Red Wings did not make it out of the second round of the playoffs this year. I get a lot of ribbing from certain guys within my acquaintance because I follow the Wings so closely (which, why is that by the way? Why are guys allowed to be crazy, rabid fans but girls are looked at weird or possessed if we are?) Like I am now supposed to be in mourning because they are not vying for Lord Stanley this year. So here is a news flash for those of you who STILL do not get it:
3. I am a fan of Red Wings and hockey, not a psychopath. Therefore, I will not, A) create a sacrificial alter in hopes of pleasing the hockey Gods, B) stick Voodoo pins in a little doll made to look like San Jose's Joe Pavelski or Sid Crosby (who needs to, after all when the Pens can blow it all by themselves!? Go Habs!) or, C) need to be checked into the mental ward if the Wings do not make it into the Stanley Cup finals every year. Just like the team will gear up for next season, so too will I!
On a final hockey note I will say I hope and pray that this is not the last I have seen of my beloved Nick Lidstrom in his number 5. To all of you doubters.... we have heard it all before, over and over, like when Yzerman and Shanahan left and what happened? Oh yeah, we won another Cup.... and year after year we are in the hunt and competitive and always fun to watch, which is more then you can say for a lot of teams. Besides, on the bright side .... knowing I do not have to watch whiny Crosby hoist the Cup this year.... I will enjoy watching the finals just fine! See ya next year Wings!
1. I am not a fair-weather fan. I am a life-long fan, always have been, which means I am loyal to my team regardless of whether they are winning the Cup or are in last place. It doesn't mean I will not occasionally get down on them or criticize their decisions or how they might play, but at the end of the day they are MY team, the organization I believe is the best, and the best class of hockey players, hands down.
2. This year I did not expect them to win the Cup. Honestly, I would have been surprised. And after the horrible season they had, plagued by injuries, I was thrilled with the run they mounted after the Olympic break to push them into the playoffs.3. I am a fan of Red Wings and hockey, not a psychopath. Therefore, I will not, A) create a sacrificial alter in hopes of pleasing the hockey Gods, B) stick Voodoo pins in a little doll made to look like San Jose's Joe Pavelski or Sid Crosby (who needs to, after all when the Pens can blow it all by themselves!? Go Habs!) or, C) need to be checked into the mental ward if the Wings do not make it into the Stanley Cup finals every year. Just like the team will gear up for next season, so too will I!
On a final hockey note I will say I hope and pray that this is not the last I have seen of my beloved Nick Lidstrom in his number 5. To all of you doubters.... we have heard it all before, over and over, like when Yzerman and Shanahan left and what happened? Oh yeah, we won another Cup.... and year after year we are in the hunt and competitive and always fun to watch, which is more then you can say for a lot of teams. Besides, on the bright side .... knowing I do not have to watch whiny Crosby hoist the Cup this year.... I will enjoy watching the finals just fine! See ya next year Wings!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Bottled Lightning
I do not have a sister. There are women in my life I am especially close to and they know who they are, but I do not suppose it is the same as having a sister. I am fortunate to be blessed with two lovely sisters-in-law (and, truly, I say fortunate because I actually LIKE and love my sisters-in-law, unlike many people I know) but I got to thinking about sisters this past weekend watching my daughter and her cousin, Anya, together.
Anya is newly six and Isabelle will be five in June. Both are darkish blonde, both fair-skinned, both fine-boned and of thinner builds. Both are strong-willed, dramatic, crazy and smart. Both are like bottled lightning, bright, beautiful, and difficult to keep contained for long. My brother and I watched our daughters for three days, holding hands, dressing the same, playing together, having their hair styled the same way, kissing them goodnight in the same bedroom, and laughingly calling them the twins. At one point I saw the girls throw their arms around each others necks while Anya held out a camera in front of their faces to immortalize the moment, and I thought, yes, freeze time right here, would you? It is so near perfect.
I love that they have each other, that somehow my child and my brother's look so similar that people could mistake them for sisters. I love that somehow even though they do not get to see each other more then every few months it seems like we live next door. I do not know what the future holds for their relationship .... the lives of teenage girls are full of many emotions and lots of changes, but I hope that the bond I see forming now between the two of them will somehow continue to thrive. Maybe sisters do not have to come from the same womb after all.
Anya is newly six and Isabelle will be five in June. Both are darkish blonde, both fair-skinned, both fine-boned and of thinner builds. Both are strong-willed, dramatic, crazy and smart. Both are like bottled lightning, bright, beautiful, and difficult to keep contained for long. My brother and I watched our daughters for three days, holding hands, dressing the same, playing together, having their hair styled the same way, kissing them goodnight in the same bedroom, and laughingly calling them the twins. At one point I saw the girls throw their arms around each others necks while Anya held out a camera in front of their faces to immortalize the moment, and I thought, yes, freeze time right here, would you? It is so near perfect.
I love that they have each other, that somehow my child and my brother's look so similar that people could mistake them for sisters. I love that somehow even though they do not get to see each other more then every few months it seems like we live next door. I do not know what the future holds for their relationship .... the lives of teenage girls are full of many emotions and lots of changes, but I hope that the bond I see forming now between the two of them will somehow continue to thrive. Maybe sisters do not have to come from the same womb after all.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Hey, Hey, Hockeytown!
Just a quick note for you non-hockey people (and how is that possible by the way? I mean, seriously, what is WRONG with you?). My Red Wings managed to pull off an amazing run after the Olympic break and are back in the Playoffs yet again and will be contending for Lord Stanley. Considering their injury-prone season this was no small feat,and I am so proud.
Now we simply await the last couple of games to see who the first round opponent will be, and I will try to contain myself to some degree. For this Wings fan though, I am just happy they are in the playoffs for the 19th consecutive season (the longest run in professional sports). No Fear, No Excuses, No Mercy, No Limits! Go Wings!
Now we simply await the last couple of games to see who the first round opponent will be, and I will try to contain myself to some degree. For this Wings fan though, I am just happy they are in the playoffs for the 19th consecutive season (the longest run in professional sports). No Fear, No Excuses, No Mercy, No Limits! Go Wings!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Simple Growth
A few months back "Real Simple" magazine (the one magazine to which I hold a subscription, although I am guilty of grabbing a "People" off of the rack every now and again) asked its readers to write an essay on when they realized they were officially a grown-up. I've been pondering this question at odd moments ever since, as by most people's standards I am, indeed, an adult at this point, even if I somehow still find this surprising to myself.
But unlike, apparently, the thousands of people who wrote of specific humorous, poignant, monumental, or at the very least, telling moments, for me, nothing comes to mind as the so-called "light bulb" millisecond where I thought, "ah- ha!" I truly must be a grown-up now. The truth is somewhere in getting married and gaining a mortgage, raking the leaves and carting the groceries in from the garage, it might have happened. Or perhaps it was saying no to the door-to-door salesman, being called ma'am for the first time, scrubbing my own toilets, or cooking dinners for more then just myself. I might have grown-up during the thousandth load of laundry, in the middle of wrapping presents for an entire family Christmas after being personally responsible for all of the holiday shopping, or learning that when I am sick I am still required to be fully functional for my husband and daughter. I even suppose I could say I officially grew up when I figured out my husband and I will quite possibly never see eye to eye on certain issues, and at times we will not be each others favorite people but that this does not mean our marriage is headed for the proverbial "crap heap." I KNOW when I am old and gray he will be the one beside me, sitting on the porch of OUR camp, so I guess I must be in a grown-up relationship, right?
Honestly though I suppose the "I must be a grown-up moment" most likely occurred somewhere in the countless hours I have thus far logged being a mother. Maybe in the labor that would not end, in one of the early a.m. feedings when I somehow found myself in the glider rocker nursing Isabelle with no memory of having actually gotten out of bed to feed her. Or perhaps during, say the 12th hour of pacing the floor with a crying, screaming, will not be comforted no matter what, baby. And now I find myself in the last days of her preschool, and registering her for Kindergarten, with my nerves in knots and my heart in my throat at the thought of all that will face her in the big, scary albeit wonderful world that is school. I want her days to forever be candy and light, safe and secure with never a bad hour, a mean kid or a hurtful word said, even while recognizing the need for all experiences, including the not so great ones to become a well-rounded person. Does this make me a grown-up or just a parent?
So, no single defining moment. Life happens and I grew up. It goes on everyday. Real Simple.
But unlike, apparently, the thousands of people who wrote of specific humorous, poignant, monumental, or at the very least, telling moments, for me, nothing comes to mind as the so-called "light bulb" millisecond where I thought, "ah- ha!" I truly must be a grown-up now. The truth is somewhere in getting married and gaining a mortgage, raking the leaves and carting the groceries in from the garage, it might have happened. Or perhaps it was saying no to the door-to-door salesman, being called ma'am for the first time, scrubbing my own toilets, or cooking dinners for more then just myself. I might have grown-up during the thousandth load of laundry, in the middle of wrapping presents for an entire family Christmas after being personally responsible for all of the holiday shopping, or learning that when I am sick I am still required to be fully functional for my husband and daughter. I even suppose I could say I officially grew up when I figured out my husband and I will quite possibly never see eye to eye on certain issues, and at times we will not be each others favorite people but that this does not mean our marriage is headed for the proverbial "crap heap." I KNOW when I am old and gray he will be the one beside me, sitting on the porch of OUR camp, so I guess I must be in a grown-up relationship, right?
Honestly though I suppose the "I must be a grown-up moment" most likely occurred somewhere in the countless hours I have thus far logged being a mother. Maybe in the labor that would not end, in one of the early a.m. feedings when I somehow found myself in the glider rocker nursing Isabelle with no memory of having actually gotten out of bed to feed her. Or perhaps during, say the 12th hour of pacing the floor with a crying, screaming, will not be comforted no matter what, baby. And now I find myself in the last days of her preschool, and registering her for Kindergarten, with my nerves in knots and my heart in my throat at the thought of all that will face her in the big, scary albeit wonderful world that is school. I want her days to forever be candy and light, safe and secure with never a bad hour, a mean kid or a hurtful word said, even while recognizing the need for all experiences, including the not so great ones to become a well-rounded person. Does this make me a grown-up or just a parent?
So, no single defining moment. Life happens and I grew up. It goes on everyday. Real Simple.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Random Thoughts
Wait.... wasn't that the name of a Saturday Night Live bit some years back? "Random Thoughts" by Jim or John Handy or some such?? Nope, it was "Deep Thoughts" by Jack Handy, right? Or maybe I am just losing my mind, which is probably closer to the truth. But the truth is I am still here, just busy and ... well, feeling scattered in my thoughts with too many varying ideas to put them into some kind of coherent thought-out blog entry. So, keeping that in mind here are my little nuggets of insight/wit/idiocy that I can offer up this month:
2. Thank god for the Olympics for they provide some good television to watch. I am so tired of the same old "stuff" and now that football season is over a girl needs more sports because all I have is...
3. Hockey. No, I have not forgotten my lovely Red Wing boys, although they are having one rough season, plagued by more injuries then any team in the NHL and serious injuries mind you. With all the things that have gone wrong for them one would almost think they had some kind of voodoo curse hanging over their heads. Yet somehow they are still lingering near the all important cutoff point to make it into the NHL playoffs going into the Olympic break, and now that they are finally getting healthy, people would be wrong to count them out just yet. Remember, they have the longest running consecutive playoff appearance record of any team in professional sports. And, they have managed to stay alive basically by fielding a team from their Grand Rapids crew and with a rookie in goal. A rookie named Jimmy Howard, who in my opinion has earned the right to be THE goalie from here on out and into the playoffs. Also, watch out for Team Sweden in the Olympics everyone (lots of my Wings are Swedes!!)
4. It is possible for my daughter to never stop talking from the time we leave my garage until the time we pull into the church parking lot of her preschool. This drive typically takes me fifteen minutes, and I swear to you the child does not take more then two breaths the entire time. The other day I felt like I was caught in a giant run-on sentence set on hyper-drive and after I dropped her off I got back in the car and sat still listening to the silence and just laughing to myself. Isabelle's energy level could power small countries. It goes something like this..."Do you see the train on the bridge? I want to ride Thomas again sometime. Oh, no! Thomas is in trouble! We have to rescue him! He fell off the track. Lets push him back on, help me Mommy! PUSH! PUSH! Good, we saved him! Uh oh! Its, Maleficent! (the evil fairy in Sleeping Beauty for those of you not up to date on fairy tales.... Isabelle's favorite evil villain who is a frequent guest in her imaginary play). Drive faster, Mommy. She has a bomb! I am going to call Prince Phillip to take care of it. Phillip! Can you take care of the bomb for us? I don't have time. I have to go to school now. Look Mom, an octagon! There are lots of shapes aren't there? What shape is that sign? Look an oval! Mom, did you see that puppy? Wasn't he cute? Mom, we need to get to school on time because Miss Tracey said it is my job to hand out the sit-upons. I hope we won't be late. Look a square!" You get my point.
5. Cheese Its are the best snack food in the entire universe. Just the original red box, not reduced fat, not any jazzed up flavor, just original Cheese Its. You must always have a box on hand as well as a back up just in case the first one goes empty. It is probably in my family's DNA as my mother also seems to possess a similar desire for the cheese cracker. Get your own box!
6. Never let your husband answer a door to a salesperson. Kirby vacuum cleaners paid us a visit the other day and like an organized mob hit they swooped in on Clay, stuffed a free bottle of Spic n' Span cleaner into his hand and "Boom!" were in the door. Clay wasted the next 45 minutes of his life listening to a long sales pitch from this woman who told him the machine was only 2195, neglecting to mention, of course, that the decimal point in that price did not come after the one. It took forever for him to get rid of her. Rule number one and two to all of you husbands, always say NO and NEVER, EVER let them in the house.
7. Anyone telling me I look nice, whether it is my daughter or some guy old enough to be my grandfather, always boosts me up and makes me feel better. Does that make me fragile in my self-esteem and desperate for an affirmation on my appearance or just normal in that I like a compliment? ( I suppose if you are someone like Heidi Klum you would hear them all the time and it would mean less, right? Or is it the same for all?).
8. I want to be my cat, Mindy for a day and see what it is like to essentially sleep for almost 16 hours, eat, bathe, and get petted.
9. Get off your lazy butt and remove the snow from your car BEFORE driving down the highway. I was behind some schmuck the other day when a rather large sheet of snow dislodged from their hood and proceeded to take flight over their car and land like a two ton boulder on my windshield, temporarily blinding me, and startling the sh-- out of me, before breaking into smaller pieces and falling off of my car in a watery mess, all at 60 or so miles an hour. What if I had flipped out and swerved and caused an accident? As it was it caused Isabelle to scream and yell, "Mommy what was that?!" and I was left to try and calm my freaked out child.
10. No child will ever walk around a puddle when they have the option to splash through it as evidenced by my walk with Isabelle on Friday. Thank goodness for waterproof boots but the jeans were thoroughly soaked.
11. How cool is it that I live somewhere that I can go and watch sled dogs race? I watched the finish of the UP 200 this past Sunday, and while it was not even close to my first time it still is one of the great events to turn out for every winter here in the upper peninsula. A truly unique experience on what turned out to be a gorgeous day on the shores of Superior, reminding me yet again what a beautiful place I live in.
12. I could go on and on, but I will end for now so that I can actually post a blog entry!
1. I do not recommend making-over two rooms simultaneously. As mentioned before we moved Isabelle into her big girl bed which necessitated switching up her room and the office/guest room. This basically involved destroying my upstairs for an extended period as I had to dismantle two rooms entirely and push furniture into the only other available room up there (our bedroom) and the hallway. Picture us climbing over furniture and wending our way around objects in an effort to find our bed at night, and if you had to use the bathroom during the wee hours of the dark it was a real adventure, usually involving a few swear words and stubbed toes. Painting two rooms back to back weekends was a fair amount of work as well, although it went relatively smoothly. And of course, following the family Peterson Law of averages, Isabelle's new bed did not go together in a, shall we say, "simple fashion" with its head and foot boards, so Clay had a few temper flare-ups which added to the festivities. All in all, a little more to handle then I had anticipated, but the end results are two new rooms that do look quite good if I do say so myself.
2. Thank god for the Olympics for they provide some good television to watch. I am so tired of the same old "stuff" and now that football season is over a girl needs more sports because all I have is...
3. Hockey. No, I have not forgotten my lovely Red Wing boys, although they are having one rough season, plagued by more injuries then any team in the NHL and serious injuries mind you. With all the things that have gone wrong for them one would almost think they had some kind of voodoo curse hanging over their heads. Yet somehow they are still lingering near the all important cutoff point to make it into the NHL playoffs going into the Olympic break, and now that they are finally getting healthy, people would be wrong to count them out just yet. Remember, they have the longest running consecutive playoff appearance record of any team in professional sports. And, they have managed to stay alive basically by fielding a team from their Grand Rapids crew and with a rookie in goal. A rookie named Jimmy Howard, who in my opinion has earned the right to be THE goalie from here on out and into the playoffs. Also, watch out for Team Sweden in the Olympics everyone (lots of my Wings are Swedes!!)
4. It is possible for my daughter to never stop talking from the time we leave my garage until the time we pull into the church parking lot of her preschool. This drive typically takes me fifteen minutes, and I swear to you the child does not take more then two breaths the entire time. The other day I felt like I was caught in a giant run-on sentence set on hyper-drive and after I dropped her off I got back in the car and sat still listening to the silence and just laughing to myself. Isabelle's energy level could power small countries. It goes something like this..."Do you see the train on the bridge? I want to ride Thomas again sometime. Oh, no! Thomas is in trouble! We have to rescue him! He fell off the track. Lets push him back on, help me Mommy! PUSH! PUSH! Good, we saved him! Uh oh! Its, Maleficent! (the evil fairy in Sleeping Beauty for those of you not up to date on fairy tales.... Isabelle's favorite evil villain who is a frequent guest in her imaginary play). Drive faster, Mommy. She has a bomb! I am going to call Prince Phillip to take care of it. Phillip! Can you take care of the bomb for us? I don't have time. I have to go to school now. Look Mom, an octagon! There are lots of shapes aren't there? What shape is that sign? Look an oval! Mom, did you see that puppy? Wasn't he cute? Mom, we need to get to school on time because Miss Tracey said it is my job to hand out the sit-upons. I hope we won't be late. Look a square!" You get my point.
5. Cheese Its are the best snack food in the entire universe. Just the original red box, not reduced fat, not any jazzed up flavor, just original Cheese Its. You must always have a box on hand as well as a back up just in case the first one goes empty. It is probably in my family's DNA as my mother also seems to possess a similar desire for the cheese cracker. Get your own box!
6. Never let your husband answer a door to a salesperson. Kirby vacuum cleaners paid us a visit the other day and like an organized mob hit they swooped in on Clay, stuffed a free bottle of Spic n' Span cleaner into his hand and "Boom!" were in the door. Clay wasted the next 45 minutes of his life listening to a long sales pitch from this woman who told him the machine was only 2195, neglecting to mention, of course, that the decimal point in that price did not come after the one. It took forever for him to get rid of her. Rule number one and two to all of you husbands, always say NO and NEVER, EVER let them in the house.
7. Anyone telling me I look nice, whether it is my daughter or some guy old enough to be my grandfather, always boosts me up and makes me feel better. Does that make me fragile in my self-esteem and desperate for an affirmation on my appearance or just normal in that I like a compliment? ( I suppose if you are someone like Heidi Klum you would hear them all the time and it would mean less, right? Or is it the same for all?).
8. I want to be my cat, Mindy for a day and see what it is like to essentially sleep for almost 16 hours, eat, bathe, and get petted.
9. Get off your lazy butt and remove the snow from your car BEFORE driving down the highway. I was behind some schmuck the other day when a rather large sheet of snow dislodged from their hood and proceeded to take flight over their car and land like a two ton boulder on my windshield, temporarily blinding me, and startling the sh-- out of me, before breaking into smaller pieces and falling off of my car in a watery mess, all at 60 or so miles an hour. What if I had flipped out and swerved and caused an accident? As it was it caused Isabelle to scream and yell, "Mommy what was that?!" and I was left to try and calm my freaked out child.
10. No child will ever walk around a puddle when they have the option to splash through it as evidenced by my walk with Isabelle on Friday. Thank goodness for waterproof boots but the jeans were thoroughly soaked.
11. How cool is it that I live somewhere that I can go and watch sled dogs race? I watched the finish of the UP 200 this past Sunday, and while it was not even close to my first time it still is one of the great events to turn out for every winter here in the upper peninsula. A truly unique experience on what turned out to be a gorgeous day on the shores of Superior, reminding me yet again what a beautiful place I live in.
12. I could go on and on, but I will end for now so that I can actually post a blog entry!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Sonata
As my roller covered the last of the minty green paint I could not help but recall when I had first chosen the color for Isabelle's baby room. I was so thrilled to be planning her room ... to be making it "just so." It was bright and cheerful, and hopeful and happy, exactly how I felt... exactly what I hoped Isabelle would feel in her room. Now, here I was years later saying good-bye to it with a much more subdued shade, something called "earthy cane." Isabelle's baby room was becoming our office, and we were moving Isabelle into the larger room next door to accommodate the full bed she was getting moved into .... no more toddler bed for the big girl. Frankly, she was long overdue to be out of it and we had simply put it off in the hopes that perhaps we would sell the house before necessitating switching rooms. No such luck.
So, here I was painting over the first of many stages. I would be lying to say I did not feel a slight twinge at the thought of her growing up and leaving behind that baby room. Seeing Isabelle that first evening tucked into her "big bed," so proud of all her space and multiple pillows with room for Mindy, our cat to join her if she wanted, I realized how quickly time goes. I glanced around the space and suddenly could envision it a few more years down the road with posters on the walls, school books scattered on the floor, nail polish bottles on the dresser, and clothes draped over the foot board of the bed. What color would the walls be then?
This weekend I will paint Isabelle's new bedroom the color of her choice, a robin's egg's blue. A lovely, calm, serene color that makes you dream of summer days and sail boats on a lazy lake. The store called the color, in a rather grand fashion, "sonata." However, I kind of like the name as a sonata can be a rather complicated musical composition in that it contains three to four independent movements that vary in key, mood, and tempo .... much like my beautiful daughter herself. Each movement is like a stage, separate and yet connected in theme to the whole. Yes, the color is perfect, very Isabelle. I got to pick the first time around but from here on out it will be Isabelle's choice every time we redo her room. After all, this is her life to live, her musical composition to write, her sonata.
So, here I was painting over the first of many stages. I would be lying to say I did not feel a slight twinge at the thought of her growing up and leaving behind that baby room. Seeing Isabelle that first evening tucked into her "big bed," so proud of all her space and multiple pillows with room for Mindy, our cat to join her if she wanted, I realized how quickly time goes. I glanced around the space and suddenly could envision it a few more years down the road with posters on the walls, school books scattered on the floor, nail polish bottles on the dresser, and clothes draped over the foot board of the bed. What color would the walls be then?
This weekend I will paint Isabelle's new bedroom the color of her choice, a robin's egg's blue. A lovely, calm, serene color that makes you dream of summer days and sail boats on a lazy lake. The store called the color, in a rather grand fashion, "sonata." However, I kind of like the name as a sonata can be a rather complicated musical composition in that it contains three to four independent movements that vary in key, mood, and tempo .... much like my beautiful daughter herself. Each movement is like a stage, separate and yet connected in theme to the whole. Yes, the color is perfect, very Isabelle. I got to pick the first time around but from here on out it will be Isabelle's choice every time we redo her room. After all, this is her life to live, her musical composition to write, her sonata.
Monday, January 18, 2010
My Relationship with Chicken Little
It happens sometimes. Inevitably it will come in the night as I lie in the dark wrapped in my blankets, cocooned in the shadows of my bedroom, listening to the deep, even breaths of my husband next to me, the rare car going by on the road outside, or the familiar creaks of my house. Its, the WORRY. And it doesn't have to be any particular, specific worry, mind you. It can be any of a host of them.... from money, to health, to relationships, to the all too familiar worry of child-raising. Even worry about some of my own goals that I would still like to achieve. Goals, that as a mother, you all too often set aside for a time, to make room for your families more pressing needs.
The worry will creep its way in, form a nice solid lump in my throat and leave me wide awake for a few hours before my exhausted mind is finally able to shake it off enough to drift into some semblance of a rest. And why? By all accounts, I lead a perfectly blessed life with much to be thankful for, and I closed out 2009 thinking essentially that. And perhaps that is precisely why in the small hours of the night I get these occasional worry attacks ..... because I am waiting for the "bottom to fall out." I look around at what some families, some people go through and frankly, I harbor almost a sense of guilt for our stability and security. Ultimately our biggest worry always comes down to a loved one being harmed or getting sick, doesn't it? And it takes on a whole new level as a parent.... the worry could swallow you whole if you let it. It makes me pray all the harder for the continued health and happiness of those I love as if I might have a time limit on my luck. Ridiculous, I know, but I come from a long line of worriers, and at times I think I could raise it to an art form.
Of course, common sense (usually) prevails, and I recognize my worry won't really get me anywhere (other then to drive me a little crazy). Plus, walking through life like your own personal version of "Chicken Little" waiting for the sky to fall is no way to live either. So, I do my best to stifle that worry gene of mine, swallow my "Chicken Little" moments and remember that with every new year comes new possibilities for relationships, goals, and the myriad of other tasks we all set for ourselves. So, lets see what 2010 brings.
The worry will creep its way in, form a nice solid lump in my throat and leave me wide awake for a few hours before my exhausted mind is finally able to shake it off enough to drift into some semblance of a rest. And why? By all accounts, I lead a perfectly blessed life with much to be thankful for, and I closed out 2009 thinking essentially that. And perhaps that is precisely why in the small hours of the night I get these occasional worry attacks ..... because I am waiting for the "bottom to fall out." I look around at what some families, some people go through and frankly, I harbor almost a sense of guilt for our stability and security. Ultimately our biggest worry always comes down to a loved one being harmed or getting sick, doesn't it? And it takes on a whole new level as a parent.... the worry could swallow you whole if you let it. It makes me pray all the harder for the continued health and happiness of those I love as if I might have a time limit on my luck. Ridiculous, I know, but I come from a long line of worriers, and at times I think I could raise it to an art form.
Of course, common sense (usually) prevails, and I recognize my worry won't really get me anywhere (other then to drive me a little crazy). Plus, walking through life like your own personal version of "Chicken Little" waiting for the sky to fall is no way to live either. So, I do my best to stifle that worry gene of mine, swallow my "Chicken Little" moments and remember that with every new year comes new possibilities for relationships, goals, and the myriad of other tasks we all set for ourselves. So, lets see what 2010 brings.
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