First Grader

"So what happened to Pluto?" she asked, as I was putting her to bed. She was talking about the planet, not the dog. No idea where the question came from, but I answered it the best of my knowledge. Lola likes school. She is starting to read. She read to me this evening, instead of I to her.

I am so proud of her, as I suffer through every other word being sounded out.

Mind The Gap

Flying Solo

As I looked out my kitchen window yesterday, I noticed a baby bird in the grass, under the big ole’ pine tree in our backyard. It appeared to have fallen out of its nest. While I looked on, its parents, a pair of common grackles, flew in and fed it. Then mama bird, or papa bird, moved back a few feet and called out. The baby bird hopped up in response, flapping its little wings. I watched in amazement at this family effort to teach the fledgling the basics of flight.

The baby grackle wasn’t the only one unfolding its wings yesterday. Earlier this week Lola announced out of the blue that she wanted her training wheels removed from her bike. She was ready to ride without them. Dressed in full-on protective gear, we set out to teach our girl how to ride. She didn’t realize it, but she caught on within seconds. Turning her bike was a little tricky though, and our little perfectionist was ready to quit when she didn’t get it right on her first try.

I remember my first bike ride. It was my sixth birthday and when I entered the living room there was a shiny red bicycle waiting for me. A friend taught me how to ride it that same day. She held on to my saddle for a minute or two and then let go. That was all there was to it. I can still picture the look of surprise on my mother’s face when I raced by. I had told Lola about this a few weeks ago, and I suspect that’s where her desire came from. But her experience wasn’t as rewarding as she thought it would be.

“I thought dad would hold on for two minutes and then it would be perfect,” she said to me, tears rolling down her cheeks.



Poor kid, blessed with her parents’ perfectionist genes. I don’t know why her first solo ride disappointed her so much she wanted to give up; it looked just about perfect to me. With a little prodding she was willing to get back on her bike and give a few more tries. And lo and behold, she did it. Racing up and down the street, she gave us a big grin. We still have to work a little bit on her right turn, but she mastered the basics yesterday.

When we returned to the house, I walked into the backyard to see how the baby grackle was getting along. He was nowhere to be found. I guess he mastered the basics, too.

Animal Planet LIVE

It’s Memorial Day weekend and we have all gathered at my parents-in-law’s house. The long, snowy winter has added some extra inches to the water level in the lake but it’s still a long way off from what it once was.

As usual Lola and her cousin L. were hunting for frogs down by the water. Despite the very loud croaking we hear at night, there were not that many frogs to be found yet, just dozens of ticks.

At long last the girls came back with one frog, a lovely green specimen.



What they also found was a garter snake. It was a decent sized one, about three feet long. After it was admired by all, the girls took their temporary pets around the house while the adults remained behind on the back deck to relax a little, enjoy the sun, and watch Ryan and his brother put the dock in the water.

Queue blood-curdling scream. The adults jumped up as one and ran to the front of the house, trying not to scrape their bare feet on the gravel path, fully expecting to find massive amounts of blood. Fortunately none of the children were injured. The same could not be said for the frog, however.

It seems the snake and the frog met, and the snake did not play nice.

It took the snake about ten minutes to devour the frog in its entirety. After recovering from her initial shock and horror, it was she who let out the ear-piercing scream, Lola returned to the scene of the carnage, curious and fascinated although still very upset.



“Thanks for the free lunch. See ya..!” And off it went, full belly and all, back into the woods.

Summer Evening At The Ball Park

Yesterday was the Rangers’ first baseball game of the season and they played well. Sadly they lost. But Miss Lola got a hit without having to use the tee. Proud parents of course, but the slugger herself was not impressed.

“I have done it before.”

Must be her number. It was hot, the mosquitoes were atrocious, but the smell of brats on the grill and the crack of the bat hitting the ball made for a perfect summer evening.

The Rookie

She was reluctant at first when I asked her if she wanted to sign up for summer baseball here in town. But then one day she hit the ball just right during t-ball in gym class. That felt so good, she wanted more. There are not enough kids to form a t-ball team but she was welcome to join the coach pitch team. And so she did.

She is the youngest by far, throws like a girl, and is easily distracted (“What’s that on my shoe?”) but she’s doing it. She did not let that baseball that hit her square in the forehead on day one deter her either. Good girl!

Bad Mother

Lola’s room is a small one and there really isn’t enough room for everything we put in there. She is usually very good about keeping her room tidy but once friends come over to play and everything gets pulled out from the shelves, it’s hard to get it all under control again. It is simply too much for her and things steadily get worse.

Several attempts have been made to organize her room. Once she and I started that task together and I asked her to go through the great big basket with stuffed animals and get rid of the ones she doesn’t play with. Naturally, every single stuffed toy suddenly became a favorite. Watching Lola go through her collection deciding which one to do away with was like watching “Sophie’s Choice.” Gut wrenching.

About two weeks ago, Ryan and Lola went on their customary father - daughter date and I seized the opportunity to take charge of her room. Hardening my heart, I was resolved to recycle a few more toys than the childhood toys of her parents which were the only ones she had been willing to give up. Ruthlessly I went through her basket and the shelves of her room. Three garbage bags later I resurfaced.

We put up more shelves, organized everything in shiny new purple baskets, and rearranged the furniture. You can actually see the floor of her room again. I also went through all of her drawers and purged her summer clothes and the outfits she had outgrown. Walking into her room now is like a breath of fresh air. Lola loves it and has not once asked for any of the toys I got rid of.

Until last night.

Ryan has gone bow hunting with his dad and as always when he is gone, the girls have a Girls Night. This means that Lola moves into my bedroom and we watch a movie together before we go to sleep. Since I have a bigger bed, there is more room for her stuffed friends, and she usually brings a few more than the two or three that share her bed.

“Mom,” I heard her say when she was getting ready for bed. “Have you seen that white bear that I have?”

I knew exactly which bear she meant. It had not made the cut. Not wanting to confess to that right away, I pretended not to know which bear she was talking about. She showed me a three inch version of the bear I had thrown away and told me she was looking for its mother.

Oh no. I had orphaned a baby bear.

I fessed up to possibly, maybe giving its mother away (not true, I threw it away) and suggested Lola could be the little bear’s mom from now on. Big tears rolled from Lola’s eyes as she hiccupped that the little bear could not sleep without its mother. My daughter is very good when it comes to drama. I felt horrible.

So, anyone have a white bear to spare? I know a good home for it.

Catching Up: First Day Of School

Hard to tell who was more excited: the kindergartner or her mother?

Woman At Work

So I have been a bit of a slacker lately but only on the blogs, I promise. In fact, I have been hard at work for the past two months. It started with various projects for my husband’s employer that I was usually able to do from home. Slowly it progressed to a near full time job. And since the first of this month I happily commute to the UP every day. I do a little marketing, a little project management, and whatever else comes my way. It’s fun. Lola is back in day care and lovin’ it.

Of course, something’s gotta give, and that’s the blogs. I participated in my very first craft fair and was reasonably successful at it. (It was cold that day, though. It even snowed a little bit.) I try to keep a clean house and am reasonably successful at that, too. We purchased a dishwasher to assist with household tasks. It sits in our garage, patiently waiting to be installed. We want to tile the kitchen floor first. Makes sense, doesn’t it? And so I wait patiently as well.

Summer is officially over. It is full on fall here. I have seen some gorgeous colors come by on my commute but the rain and wind of the last few days have blown most leaves off their branches. We spent a couple of lovely weekends camping up in the UP on the Keweenaw Peninsula. We putzed around looking for property to realize our B&B dream on. We tried one on for size and squatted on the land for a night. Nice spot with a perfect view of Mount Bohemia.

Lola is back in school, a true kindergartner. She is learning to read and write. It’s fun hearing her sound out letters and watching her write them. She can almost count to a hundred now. No more skipping the number seventeen, and getting confused at twenty. Just like that, it clicked. She has been getting into a little bit of trouble every now and then, mostly for talking too much. But she genuinely seems to be enjoying school. She had enrolled in dance again and goes to girl scouts every other Monday.

That’s pretty much it, I think. You’re all caught up. I will try to upload some pictures this weekend to accompany the aforementioned events. But I am also working on Lola’s Halloween costume (she will be a mermaid this year), sewing a custom order for a client, and getting my Etsy shop ready for the upcoming holidays. So I can’t make any promises.

Musketeer Concerns

"Mother!" (She calls me 'mother' these days. I don't like it but I have decided to pick my battles.)

"Mother. This is a serious question. What if I'm a musketeer and I have two horses. How do I get to town?"

"That is easy," I tell her. "You ride on one horse and you tether the other one to the horse you're riding on.

"I don't want to be a musketeer anymore," she answers me. "It's too hard. What if I cut myself with my sword?"

That seems like a legitimate concern.

"That is why you practice. Most things are hard at the beginning. Do you think being an artist, a farmer, and a biologist (her other chosen professions) is easy?"

"My friends will laugh at me. I'll be the silliest musketeer ever!"

I set her on my lap, my silly musketeer with the serious concerns, and we snuggle for awhile. I tell her she has time to think about it. All the time in the world.

Da Bears Still Suck

“Hey Lola. Why don’t you whisper ‘Da Bears Still Suck’ in Wenzel’s ear?”
 
(For those of you not in the know, Wenzel is the drummer and the last remaining original member of the Happy Schnapps Combo, a local Wisconsin polka and party ensemble who sing in glorious Wisconsinese. Also, da bears in question are the Chicago Bears, a local football team from south of the Wisconsin border.)



“No, really. It’s okay. He’s not going to bite you.”

“Would you like me to say it instead?”

“Psst…, Wenzel, my daughter thinks da bears still suck.”

“High five, sister!” 

Karmic Payback

When I was ten years old, we moved to The Hague, into a large town house where my sister and I each had our own room. I don't recall ever adorning my door with anything, but I know my sister did. She always had a poster hanging on her door.

I remember this so clearly because I used to rip her posters when I was angry at her. Not full on tearing and trashing, I didn't have the guts to do that, but tiny little tears along the edges of the poster. Just to make a point, albeit a very sad and pathetic one.

Fast forward three decades. I walked into my craft room yesterday where I have a project laid out that I am currently working on. It consists of six felt squares with appliques. Some squares are cut from craft felt and some from hand died, rather expensive, imported all the way from Holland, one hundred percent wool felt.

In one of the cheaper felt squares I noticed a few small cuts along the edge. I was pretty sure the felt was whole when I cut my squares. I suspected Lola or her friend B. accidentally cut the felt when they were cutting up some paper.

I was wrong. As it turns out it was not an accident. My daughter fessed up to cutting the felt on purpose. She was "just so mad" at me. Not that she knew why she was mad, she just remembered she was. And to make her point, she cut my felt. Like her mother, she did not have the guts to really go for it and cut the good stuff, so she went for the cheap felt instead. A wise choice.

Naturally she was reprimanded for this little stunt and threatened with eternal banishment from the craft room (a fate worse than death in our house) if she ever pulled something like this again. But I had a very hard time actually being angry with her.

As I was talking with her, I was chewing the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress a smile. I could not believe she did the exact same thing I did as a child. And all the while I could hear my sister laughing in the back of my head.

Karma is a b*tch. So is payback.

Lights, Sirens, Action!

What do you do when you need to get to school in a hurry? You take the firetruck, of course! That is exactly what Lola did today.



The ride to school in a firetruck was the most coveted prize in the raffle held at Lola's school during the Community Day in March. And what do you know? My daughter was the lucky girl who won it! This morning she claimed her prize. At 8 o'clock she reported to the fire department here in town, along with a parent. Ryan was the one to accompany her on this awesome trip. A boy's dream come true! (I don't think it really was his dream but we're going with it anyway.)

When they arrived at school, the entire Elementary School was gathered outside waiting for them. Lola was greeted like a rock star by her classmates.  Applause, cheers, and hugs all around. It was so cool!

A school bus is so last year...

All the little boys and girls admired the firetruck. The Chief was happy to tell everyone all about it.

A big Thank You to the Fire Department for this unforgettable ride!

And to top if off, mom got to hitch a ride in the firetruck back to town. No sirens for me, though.