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.

Zoltar Speaks

Do you remember Zoltar? The fortune teller from the movie Big who granted an eleven year old Tom Hanks's wish to be big? I met him the other day in San Francisco. He resides on Fisherman's Wharf and will tell you your fortune for a dollar. I asked him to read mine.

"You may be wondering if now is a good time to travel."

Indeed.

We were not supposed to go to San Francisco. The plan was to fly from Palm Springs via San Francisco to Chicago and then on to Green Bay. However, the Storm of the Century prevented that. And so we came to spend the day in an uncharacteristically sunny Golden Gate City.

After finding a place at the airport to store our luggage for the day, we took the train to down town San Francisco and started walking. We walked all the way to Fisherman's Wharf, where we purchased some comfortable shoes because our feet were starting to kill us, and admired the Golden Gate bridge and Alcatraz from afar.

Then we meandered over to China Town. It truly was meandering because while the map we were given showed a straight line from Pier 39 to Grant Street, there was this little bump called Nob Hill in the way. By the time we found China Town, our feet, our legs, and our backs were seriously protesting.

I loved China Town, in spite of the physical pain I was starting to feel. The markets and shops with little trinkets, the street decor (Chinese New Year had just started), and the mix of locals and tourists wandering the narrow streets. I bought some souvenirs for my loved ones and talked myself out of buying an authentic Chinese wok.

We ended the day at the mall. One of my companions had won some money at the casino which was burning a hole in her pocket. All I wanted to do was visit H&M. We didn't stay very long. After nine hours of walking our comfortable shoes were no longer comfortable and we took the train back to the airport.

We left San Francisco at one in the morning on the Red Eye. Thanks to Laura at the Palm Springs airport we were given seats in the extra legroom section. We returned to Green Bay at 11 AM, dead tired. A two hour drive later, I was finally home. My bed has never felt so good.

Cheese Heads Unite

Little Cheese Head

It is Super Bowl Sunday today. In a few hours the Green Bay Packers will face the Pittsburgh Steelers to decide who may call themselves Champions of the World. (My protest that to rightfully be a world champion, you should really play a sport that is practiced all over the world will once again go unheard.)

The excitement in Wisconsin is tangible. When Lola and I were just at the store, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, was wearing Packer attire. We were the only ones still in our street clothes. Not for long though. I am running a load of laundry as I type, containing my very own Packer shirt. And I purchased it myself.

That shirt has brought nothing but luck. Ryan left early this morning to drive down to his home town and watch the game with his high school buddy. They have watched nine games together this season and the Packers won every single one of them. A winning streak like that is not to be messed with. The green and gold beads I scored in Palm Springs were left behind because they have not been part of the equation. Superstition runs rampant.

Hey, whatever works. I may be a Dutch cheese head, I am still a cheese head. Go Pack Go!

Mama's Home

Lola has never given me a hard time about going to work or taking off for a few days. As long as I promised her I would come back, she was fine with me leaving. Until recently. When I left for Palm Springs she cried so hard. No matter how many times I told her I would be back in a few days, or how many hugs I gave her, she could not stop crying. Heartbreaking.

Today I left during her nap. She knew I had to go to work and asked me as I was putting her down: "Are you going to be here when I wake up?" When I told her I wasn't, she started crying. I gave her an extra big hug and promised her I would kiss her goodnight as soon as I got back. When I closed her door behind me I could hear her sniffling softly in her bed.

I came home fifteen minutes ago and walked into her room to keep my promise. She opened her eyes when she heard the door and gave me the biggest sleepy smile. The kind that makes you all warm and fuzzy inside and so happy to be a mom. We snuggled for a little bit and then I tiptoed out again. She was still smiling when I pulled the door shut. So was I.

I love coming home.

While I Was Gone

I was in sunny California for the last five days, attending a conference on Indian Gaming Marketing in the desert town of Palm Springs. It was a great conference, very educational, engaging, and fun.

While I was gone:

* The Storm of the Century raged over the Midwest, covering the region in a two feet thick blanket of snow. All air traffic came to a complete stop, extending my stay on the West Coast by 24 hours.

* The folks at XM Radio came to see the error of their ways. We are once again in good standing with them. In fact, our account now shows a mysterious $53.28 credit for future use. They even turned the radio back on after some prodding on our part because that was one detail they overlooked.

* Lola came down with a 24 hour stomach bug, giving Ryan the joy of cleaning our child and her bed three times during the night. When Lola and I talked about it yesterday, she was adamant she did not have a bug because she did not eat one. "Don't say that to me!"

* Despite the airports of both Green Bay and Dallas being shut down due to weather, the Packers made it to Texas for the upcoming Super Bowl. Everything is green and gold here in anticipation of the Big Game. Unfortunately our projector broke and I have to watch the game in the bedroom.

For your amusement, here are a few Texans struggling with Wisconsin city names:



Here's a challenge for the Wisconsinites feeling all smug after watching this: try pronouncing the name of the Washington city Puyallup. It took me almost a year before I got it right.

Tough Guys

Wisconsin men are tough. They will not let a little snow or arctic freeze get in the way of hunting, ice fishing, snowmobiling, skiing, sledding, or playing football in short sleeves. My husband can currently be found in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, skiing with this brother. Last year around this time, he took off all his clothes and jumped in a frozen Lake Lucerne. Not me, I took pictures, fully clothed.

Holland also has a long tradition of polar plunges. They are called New Year's Dives. They have become quite popular is the last decade. Hundreds, if not thousands of tough Dutch guys and girls run into the North Sea on or around January first. But when the temperature drops too far below zero degrees Celsius, those dives are canceled for fear of injuries and hypothermia.

Not in Wisconsin. This year's Polar Jump took place yesterday. And the temperature may have been sub zero, I am sure there were more than enough tough guys, and the occasional tough girl, who were willing to take the plunge.

Arctic Freeze

Another sub zero day in the Northwoods. It is gorgeous and sunny but so cold, the inside of your nose freezes the minute you venture outside and your breath is taken away.

It's a day to stay inside, play with your child, and bake cookies.

Ice castle in Eagle River

Recovering The Satellites

It wasn't too long ago I publicly sang the praise of satellite radio. How happy I was with the commercial free stations, the freedom to listen to Bruce Springsteen all day long, or songs from the seventies, or Christmas music round the clock. So happy in fact, we decided to purchase a year long subscription before our trial was even over. 

And so our troubles began. 

Ryan wrote XM Radio a check for $173.27 which was cashed on October first. We thought we were good to go. We were wrong. The payment, as it turns out, was never applied to my account and in December we received our first bill for the same amount plus $2.10 for 'invoice costs' as it was put. 

I called XM Radio's Listener Care department. A cute name but not a very realistic one because neither listen nor care are verbs one associates with this service after trying to deal with it. I have spent hours on the phone with them, trying to work things out with people who have not mastered the English language very well and could not care less about this listener. When you ask for a supervisor, you're disconnected. On my third try my call was routed to a girl that seemed to grasp my problem and she supplied me with a fax number for the billing department. I faxed over my proof of payment and hoped for the best. 

Two weeks later I received a reply: a reminder invoice with another $2.10 tacked on to cover the cost of the invoice. They must have some fancy printers there. I called Listener Care again, only to find out the fax number I was given was not an XM Radio fax number. Really? Where did I send a copy of my bank statement to? She had no idea. She gave me a different fax number, a genuine XM Radio number she assured me. The number didn't work. I tried for two days. It rang but was never picked up. 

And so I called the Listener Care department for a third time and lo and behold, I was transferred to a supervisor without being hung up on. I was given a third fax number. I felt really good about that number because it came from a supervisor this time, someone in charge. "The number you are trying to reach is not in service." Phone calls were obviously getting me nowhere and I decided to write a letter, a very polite one even. I enclosed copies of everything and again, hoped for the best. 

Two days ago I received my response. My service was scheduled for deactivation if I didn't pay immediately. Sometime today they made good on their word and cut me off. I have run out of options. It is impossible to resolve anything with a company that refuses to communicate. When I searched online for an alternative way of contacting XM Radio, I stumbled upon Consumer Affairs' website with 62 pages of complaints about this company. Most experiences, from what I have read, are similar to mine. 

I am ready to throw in the towel and write my $173.27 off as a bad investment. But I learned from Consumer Affairs that XM Radio is not done with me. I have more bills to look forward to, charging me for the six weeks of service between the end of my free trial and the day I was cut off. Plus $2.10 for the cost of the invoices no doubt. Followed by collection calls at all hours of the day, because of course I am not going to pay them. We'll see. In the meantime I am back to listening to regular radio. Not commercial free, but at least it's hassle free.

   

Toddler Talk III

I have a funny child, I could record her all day. Here are some highlights of the past months.

After Ryan told her it was our anniversary, that we had gotten married four years ago, she looked at me and exclaimed: "You got married?!?"

And later to her grandmother: "Mom got married!"

At daycare during a nature walk, outfitted with little magnifying glasses: "Connie, I think we have a mystery here..."

"I am so frustrated, I am going to turn into a monster!" And no, we have not been watching The Incredible Hulk. She was just demonstrating she learned a new word that day. Everything was frustrating to her.

There is a lot of talk about bugs going around at the moment. People are calling in sick left and right. Lola knows why: "If you eat a bug, you get sick."

"Row, row, row your boat. Gently down the stream. Mary, Mary, Mary, Mary. Like a spider's dream."

It is almost time for bed and Lola will do anything to avoid having to go to bed. We're discussing the messes in our rooms. I suggest we clean up this weekend. "How about you clean your room tomorrow and I clean my room today. But maybe you need some help with the little things. You know who could help you?" Big smile, pointing at herself. "But only if you listen to me. Do you promise to listen to me?"