How Sweet It Is

Easter Sunday brought us eggs, treats, and sunshine. Glorious, beautiful, warm sunshine. For a moment there, it seemed spring had sprung.

In the spirit of Easter and resurrection, the flowers I have been staring out of the ground for the last few weeks have finally surfaced. Tulips, hyacinths, daffodils, and crocuses are peaking from the dirt. Like us, they must be pleased to feel the warmth of the sun after all that snow. I haven’t had the heart to tell them more snow showers are predicted for the middle of the coming week. I too, am in denial.

After we returned from a few hours in Rhinelander to pack up more boxes, the three of us dug a few lawn chairs out of the basement and carried them around to the sunniest spot in the garden, just off the garage. Ryan and I basked in the sun, sipped from our cocktails, and watched Lola ride around on her bicycle all afternoon.

We ended the day down by the lake. Warming up by the side of the impromptu bonfire Ryan and Lola built, we watched the sun set on the lake and the stars come out. A little James Taylor in the background topped it off. Several geese joined us while dozens more flew in overhead, loudly announcing their return to Lake Lucerne.

It was an absolutely perfect day.

Growing Pains

With every birthday comes a doctor's visit. Last Thursday Lola and I visited with her pediatrician for her four year old check up. She was so excited, she had been asking me all week when we were going to the doctor.

The visit went fine, for the most part. She is growing as she should and everything functions as it should. No surprise there. It ended with the final round of her vaccinations. When I told her she was going to get some shots, she enthusiastically asked if she was going to get a band aid? Why, of course!

Two nurses came in to administer the vaccinations, four in all. While I held Lola's elbows, they stereo poked her. Lola sat up when she felt the first pokes but held it together. But the last one, the MMR, was a mean one. That one really hurt. Poor girl. Not even the toy stethoscope the nurse gave her when it was over could console her. When I asked her if she was mad, she answered: "No. I am sad."

Lola and I both have a dental appointment next week. She is also very much looking forward to that visit but she did check with me first if the dentist was going to poke her too. I told her no, he will not. She sighed with relief and proceeded to tell me she never wants to go to the doctor again, she prefers the dentist. I wonder how long it will stay that way...

A Gentle Reminder

When I dropped Lola off at daycare this morning, her teacher and I talked about her not quite so festive birthday party this Saturday. Miss A. told me it was the start of Spring Break and lots of people were going out of town. I did not know that. My bad for poor planning. It is still no excuse for not calling, though.

One of the no-show mothers overheard us and explained why her daughter wasn't able to make the party. "It would have been nice to know that so I could have prepared Lola for no-one showing up," I shot back and gave her a dirty look. "Oh," she replied. Filled with resentment I walked out of the daycare, got in my car and left.

A few minutes later at the traffic lights, I pulled up behind a car with LVG NRGY on her license plate. I am assuming the driver was a she, I don't think many men up here are prone to driving around with Loving Energy written on their cars. It made me smile. I took a deep breath and all my anger flowed right out of me.

The universe was talking to me again. Thanks for the reminder.

The Finishing Touch



Every moving box should have a bow on top



A Mother's Heartbreak

Lola's birthday party was today. For the first time she invited her own friends to celebrate turning four with. I wanted to do the Waldorf thing and invite the same number of friends as her age, four. Turns out I was wrong. The total number of the party should have been four, according to Rudolf Steiner. Lola on the other hand, invited all of her friends.

In the end it didn't matter because only one friend showed up.

Lola was disappointed, of course, but I am downright heartbroken. And angry. I am very upset with the mothers of three of her friends (one mother had called and canceled because they were going out of town for a family visit). How can they do this to a little girl? Just this morning we ran into one of her friends and her mother at the Y. That mom had called to let me know both she and her daughter were coming, sending me into a frenzy to purchase some adult snacks in addition to the toddler stuff. And then she doesn't show or call.

I just don't understand. Nor do I know what to do about it. I will most likely end up ignoring it. But truth be told, I would really like to give these people a piece of my mind. Ryan is ready to take the day off and wait for them outside Lola's daycare. I'll tell you one thing. I feel a lot less sad about leaving Rhinelander and sending Lola to yet another daycare/preschool.

And if anyone wants to come over this week, we have plenty of cake, snacks, beverages, and homemade party favors left over. If you don't mind lending a hand because we are in the midst of moving...

A Taste Of Summer

Ryan is visiting with his parents in Arizona at the moment, enjoying some lovely summer weather. We spoke earlier today and I told him it is cold here. The wind is blowing hard, I am waiting for the power to go out, and tomorrow we are expecting three to five inches of snow. That made him happy. I'll bet. Just last week it was the other way around. I was basking in the Arizona sunshine while he was stuck in winter.

I was in Arizona for the annual National Indian Gaming Association's Conference and Trade Show. This was my second time and it was better than last year. I met some old and new business contacts, watched my old boss win a Harley Davidson, and participated in some very interesting workshops. But most of all, I enjoyed the weather.

Walking in Phoenix in the warm evening breeze reminded me of my vacations in Spain during my high school and college years. Pasty white skin, dolled up for an evening on the town, we would wander the streets of Blanes or Malgrat de Mar and enjoy the warm weather and the local charm. The Arizona locals complained it was cold outside one morning, a lovely 70 degrees, forcing me to pipe in and tell them they don't know what cold outside is.

Downtown Phoenix is a strange mix of old and new. Of European architecture, Latino architecture, and modern office and hotel buildings, rising above everything else. The vivid pink and red flowers and fresh green trees brighten up the drab colored buildings. The strawberries taste sweeter in Arizona, I found. The cars are nicer, classier, and cleaner. Phoenix is a very clean city. Surprisingly so because I had a very hard time finding a trash can on the streets.

One afternoon I stopped in to visit St. Mary's Basilica, Phoenix' oldest Catholic church just passed the Convention Center. It was a quiet and peaceful haven. The large cross facing the modest front doors was dressed in purple for Lent. Inside it was cool but not cold. Only one other visitor was sitting in the pews, silently praying. The stained glass windows were beautiful, as was the colorful dome. When I went to light a candle, a surprise awaited me. No doubt as a result of local fire code, I could not actually light a candle but had to push a button to ignite a small flickering electric light. Ah, progress...

Nomads

We're back in Crandon. Again. Living with my in-laws. Again. This time it was not the lack of employment opportunities that chased us away. No, we have left our house in Rhinelander because of mold. Dangerous levels of mold.

A couple of months ago, our basement flooded as the result of a burst pipe. Our landlady V. has not exactly been on top of fixing things, to put it mildly. The waterpark was handled quickly enough, but restoring things to the way they were has taken almost two months. We would call her every now and again, to let her know the carpet was still a mess, the base boards were still missing, and mold was starting to form.

Then the family room started to stink. To the point where you would hold your breath when you walked through it. We decided to do a little mold test. And sure enough, we hit a jackpot. When we informed our landlady, she told Ryan she was sending over some friends to assess the situation. As it turned out, her friend was a former health inspector and as soon as he walked in the door, he cried out: "This place reeks of mold! You have to leave, this is dangerous."

And so we did. Well, I didn't do anything, I was living it up in Phoenix while all this went down. Ryan's parents kindly instructed their plumber to de-winterize their house and offered it to us. Ryan packed up Lola, Sandman, and a few other necessities and off to Crandon they went. In the meantime landlady V. called her contractor again and requested he finally finish up. When we returned to the house on Saturday, the guest room carpet had been cleaned and the family room smelled nice again. The base boards are still missing.

Now it could be just me, but fighting mold with a steam cleaner does not make a lot of sense to me. Moisture and warmth? Ideal growing conditions for mold. And that nice smell? Emptying a bottle of Fabreze could have accomplished that. We ran another mold test, in the family room this time, to be sure things had been handled properly. And until we were certain it was safe to live there again, we were staying put in Crandon.

When I spoke to V. to let her know of our plans she told me her friend felt he had exaggerated the smell. It wasn't really mold, it was probably just the dirty carpet in the guest room. Really? At that moment she lost all credibility with me. And when our little test kit started showing signs of life, we decided to move.

Where to? We don't know yet. What I do know is that I am really tired of moving. Really tired. I have far too much crap to be a proper nomad.

Four!

Happy birthday to my beautiful, funny, charming, mischievous, smart, outgoing, cool, imaginative, creative, and loving daughter. This day is a very special day. Because this is the day you were given to me to care for. You are, and always will be, my favorite little person in the whole wide world! Even though you told me you're officially a big girl now.

I love you Lola, with all of my heart!

Three For Three

When I traveled to Palm Springs two months ago, the Midwest was hit by the Storm of the Century, shutting down the region entirely. And while Lola and I were enjoying glorious spring weather in Holland recently, the Northwoods were treated to a whopping fifteen inches of snow.

In a few hours I leave for Phoenix where the temperature is a balmy 85 degrees. True to form, I leave Wisconsin looking like a winter wonderland once again. My fellow team members have requested I do not leave the state anymore.

Snapshots From The Homeland: Old Friends

Snapshots From The Homeland: At Last

Snapshots From The Homeland: Spring

Snapshots From The Homeland: Colorful

Snapshots From The Homeland: Typical

No More White Stuff

We decided we needed more color around the house, we are done with the white stuff up here. But since spring colors are nowhere to be found yet, we went ahead and made our own with water and a few drops of food coloring. Much better!

Snow Casualty II

We met another neighbor yesterday, the one that lives on the corner of the street. Like us, he owns a Chevrolet, albeit a much bigger one. It was snowing and very slippery when we met. Just as he turned up the street, we came driving down. We did our best to avoid each other but our cars did not oblige. Ryan and I came to a full stop on the stop sign.

No humans were hurt, only cars. And of course the stop sign/street sign. The big Chevy barely has a scratch on it. The smaller one, Big Blue, was taken by car ambulance to the nearest collision center. Our little Aveo was no match for the other car. She is scratched along the entire driver's side, the steering wheel no longer works, and her front tires are both facing inwards.

Poor Big Blue. And poor us. I am officially done with winter weather!

Trespassers Will Be Shot

Back when Scotland was just a stone throw away, I used to do quite a bit of hiking in the high and lowlands. Scottish law demands that owners of private land allow hikers the right of way. A lovely piece of legislature, opening up the entire Scottish countryside to all who wish to enjoy it. Hikers in turn are expected to keep up their end by staying on the path, picking up after themselves, and not disturbing nature and live stock. This practice is not known in the UP, Michigan's Upper Peninsula. The Yoopers do not allow you the right of way, they shoot you instead.

We left Rhinelander early Saturday morning for an impromptu visit to the Keweenaw Peninsula in the UP, just over a three hour drive from the Northwoods. It is still winter up there with several feet of snow. Ryan has traveled there a few times this season, to go skiing with his brother at Mount Bohemia. He wanted to show us this beautiful place on Lake Superior, look at some land, and putz around on snow shoes. And I was hoping to see a moose.

We picked Mount Houghton as our snow shoeing destination. We purchased a topographical map of the area, programmed the coordinates into Penelope - our GPS, and scouted the best place to park Big Blue and commence our hike. About a hundred yards into our ascent we stumbled upon a house. It was clear it was occupied for the weekend but no one was there when we approached. We quickly walked around the house and continued on our way. Ryan was very uncomfortable with this, but I did not see what the big deal was.

On our way down, we noticed a car parked by the house and decided not to barge through the yard but instead give it a wide berth. While we did not speak a word, it is impossible to be stealthy on snow shoes. Snow may fall quietly and muffle all sounds, it makes an amazing amount of noise when you walk on it. Whoever was staying at the house obviously noticed us creeping about. The next thing we heard was a semi-automatic rifle being emptied into the air.

We ran as fast as we could, which wasn't fast at all. The gun-toting Yooper got in his car and followed us. When he caught up to us, he stopped. We were in the woods, about thirty feet to his right. We ducked, feeling awfully silly because in no way were we reducing our visibility by crouching down. He did not get out of his car but drove on and stopped next to Big Blue, parked at the end of the road.

I had left a note on the dashboard with what we were doing, where we were going, and at what time we left, in case something happened to us. We stood at the top of the hill watching the man circle our car. He must have read the note, seen Lola's car seat, and decided we were not a threat. He got back in his car and drove off. We quickly made our way down, took off our gear, and left.

We were more shocked than scared, to tell you the truth. Other than this incident, which reads more frightening than it was, our weekend was wonderful. The countryside was lovely, the snow abundant, and the weather glorious. We even got a little sun burnt. But sadly, no moose.

Pyjama Party

Lola woke me up in the middle of the night crying for her mommy. I found her in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet. My happiness about her waking up to go potty (it's still hit and miss with lots of laundry around here) quickly subsided when I felt her warm body and heard her cough. She was burning with fever and obviously sick. I tucked her back in and snuggled for a little bit. Just before I went back to my own bed, I told her she would not be going to school the next day. She perked up. "Are we going to make party hats?"

She has been begging me to make party hats for days now. I have no idea why or where this burning desire came from. But what else is there to do when you're spending an unexpected day at home? Party hats it is. We taped some construction paper sheets together and cut out a circle large enough for a hat. Lola went to town embellishing the hat with glitter hearts, left over from Valentine's Day. Of course one was not enough, we had to make five.

While Lola was clearly feeling better by the minute, my health rapidly deteriorated. When it was time for her nap, I decided to take one too, rather than enjoying some free time. She slept until three, I woke up around dinner time. Ryan had come home in the meantime and spent the afternoon entertaining his daughter and looking after his wife.

I am feeling much better now and tomorrow will be business as usual. I will go to work as planned and Lola will go back to school. But at least we got the party hat project out of the way.

Proof

A ring around the moon is said to be the bearer of bad weather. Last weekend I learned that is true.

It was white knuckle driving, coming back from Oshkosh. We didn't get much snow up north, and it's almost all gone again. I don't like this in between phase we're in. Either give me some good winter weather with lots of snow or go away altogether and make way for spring.

Make up your mind, winter!

The Sound Of Silence

When I was growing up, I always listened to music. I woke up to it, I fell asleep to it, I made my homework to it, you name it. I did not like the sound of silence at all. I always needed something going on in the background to help me concentrate. Those days are over. Now I can really appreciate complete stillness around me from time to time.

Unfortunately it is hardly ever quiet at my house. Even when I am home by myself, there is still so much noise. When the fireplace is burning, a fan starts up after a few minutes to distribute the heat. Since we have fourteen feet high ceilings and no ceiling fan, we use a regular fan to move the warm air around and heat up the room a little faster. Our projector TV has a built in fan and the computer has one too. All those fans drive me nuts sometimes.

However, the noisy fans are nothing compared to what we came home to last Sunday after spending the weekend with friends in Oshkosh. While we were gone the insurance company sent over a guy to deal with the flooded basement. He ripped up the carpet, took off the base boards, drilled holes in the walls to pump hot air into, and installed seven industrial fans and dehumidifiers. And they are LOUD, I tell you.

He is coming back tomorrow to restore everything back to normal. I cannot wait. Oh, to listen to the sound of silence once again.

Indoor Waterpark

It’s been in the high forties and low fifties here lately. The snow is starting to melt away, meaning things are getting messy. The once white snow along the side of the road is now an ugly grayish brown. The spots of grass that are popping up look a little worse for wear. The creatures are coming out of the woods. Twice this week I have had to hit the breaks for suicidal squirrels. The thaw won’t last long. The forecast for the weekend shows dropping temperatures and more snow to cover up all that mud and chase us back inside.

In the meantime, the thaw is an awesome way to find out if your plumbing suffered any damage from the deep freeze of the last few months. Not the main waterline, we would have known that a long time ago. I am talking about the little pipe that connects to the outside faucet. When I turned off the lights in the living room last night, I heard a strange noise coming from the entryway. I followed the noise to the back of the coat closet to find large quantities of water spewing from the wall.

After running back to the living room to grab a flash light and my husband, we discovered the water was not actually coming out of the wall, but from a burst pipe hidden by two Styrofoam boards. We turned off the valve and took in the damage. Not too bad at first sight. Our coats were hanging high and dry and most of the other stuff in the closet was packed in plastic bins. The only object at risk was the vacuum cleaner.

The coat closet connects to the guest room closet and it was easier to grab the vacuum cleaner from that side. I walked around to the guest room and stepped right into a pool of icy cold water, over an inch high. It took my breath away, so cold. There was hardly any water in the closet because it had all flowed into the guest room. As I walked on the carpet, it waved due to the water underneath it. The room had turned into a giant waterbed. Just what you need when you're getting ready to turn in.

Sometimes it’s very convenient not to have furniture to fill up every room in the house. The air mattress we offer our guests floats and the Goodwill finds stored in the guest room are awaiting restoration anyway. The plumber has deemed us a ‘non emergency’ and will not show up for another week. I just hope our landlord can find someone to clean up the water in the meantime.

Or we could pump in some more water, open the downstairs windows and create our own indoor ice skating rink. That would be fun!

Sweets For My Sweet

Sweets for my sweet, sugar for my honey... I was singing this song all weekend long while Lola and I made Valentine's Day cards and decorated shipping tags with potato stamped hearts and red and purple glitter. She is not willing to part with the cards she made so there is no point in running to your mailbox in anticipation. Nothing from Lola this year, sorry.

The shipping tags were for the little bags of sweets she was giving out to her friends and teachers at school. Twenty in all. Centering the potato on the tags was a bit tricky and she gladly handed that task off to her mother, as well as adding the little drops of glue. But the glitter job is all hers. She was not going to let me have any fun with that. Her forehead crinkled in concentration, she very carefully tapped the glitter from the shakers over a big plate and then shook off the excess.

The tags turned out beautifully. She was so proud of her work, we made a few extra for her to keep. As for the content, I missed the memo requesting parents not to hand out any candy and filled them with just that. Luckily Ryan caught it in time and I was able to correct my rookie mistake. First thing Monday morning, I was back at the kitchen table, emptying out the artificially sugared chocolate and gummy hearts into a large jar and replacing them with naturally sugared blueberries, strawberries, and clementines.

Sweets for my sweet, sugar for my honey... I cannot get it out of my head!

Toddler Talk IV

Having a three year old is like having a talking dog. It is just funny. (Heard on the Bob & Tom Show one morning on the radio). I agree, it is.

"I used to be a grandma but now I'm a mom. I was short like a grandma, but then I grew bigger and now I'm a mom. And when I get even bigger, I am going to be a big sister!"

Lola: "I would like to fly an airplane."
Me: "Well, when you get bigger, you could learn how."
Lola: "But I would miss you!"
Me: "But you would come back to me, after you're done flying."
Lola, softly: "But I don't know how to find my home."

Lola: "Remember? When you were a little baby, and I was your mom? Remember?"
Me: "Ummm..."

Lola: "I'm going to draw a picture of papa."
Me: "That's a great idea, he'll love that."
Lola: "But I am not going to give him a pagina." (That is not a typo.)
Me: "Of course not. Boys don't have vaginas."
Lola: "Oh. No, I mean a penis. I don't like penises."

Making Valentines

An afternoon of old-fashioned potato stamping

Bigfoot

Two days before I left for Palm Springs, we joined my brother and sister-in-law and my nieces for a short trip to Granite Peak, a ski area a few miles outside of Wausau. It is a fun little ski hill, just over an hour away from Rhinelander. A perfect place for Lola to learn how to ski.

Although she was more excited about the hotel's indoor water park, she was also looking forward to playing in the snow. Like all toddlers, she caught on pretty quick once she got used to having really big feet all of a sudden and figured out how to balance herself by leaning forward. We had her strapped in a harness so she couldn't get away from us.

The second day we enrolled her in a toddler ski class for two hours. She is now a pro. She can make turns, pizza slices, and duck feet. That's really all one needs to know to successfully conquer the slopes. And she loved the ski lifts. Mama not so much once she found out they didn't have safety bars! It didn't bother Lola one bit, but I hung on for dear life.

I could not believe it. I still can't. In this overprotective country where I am scolded for not forcing my child to wear a helmet when she is riding her tricycle, that same child is allowed to dangle thirty feet above ground on a skinny bench with nothing in place to prevent her from falling off. And nobody bats an eye.

Despite this shortcoming, we are returning at the end of the month for some more fun in the snow. No water park this time though. Lola will be disappointed, I'm sure.