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.
Monday, August 9, 2010
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.
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