The Ice Rink: Nearly Ready for Action

Nothing like a few negative nights to boost the freezing process... But guess what I forgot? You have to freakin' SHOVEL it!

Proud to Have Franken as a Senator

Check out these skills!

FOUR!

Happy Birthday Big!

I won't see you today because I am snowed in at work. They have basically closed the state of Wisconsin, so I, sadly, can't get home.

But I am fondly remembering four years ago this day.

This is the first year you are in school and we were notified that you could bring a little treat or something if you wanted. So, I asked you what you would like to bring to school for your birthday.

You got very excited and started to describe something. Something "round" with "spicy stuff" on top.

Nine immediately interpreted: cinnamon rolls.

"Do they have frosting on top?"

"No."

"Is it sweet?"

"Yes."

And on went our interrogation.

BioMom brought up a picture of cinnamon rolls on her computer, to which you announced that that was not, in fact, what you were talking about.

The next day, BioMom got out of you that what you were describing had purple and green on it as well.

WTF?

Then she got you to say that the item was round -- "like a ball."

Ahhhhh! Donut holes!! What kind of parents are we that our four year old son has no language for a "donut hole"!?!

The purple and green must have been for a birthday on or around the Packer/Vikings game.

So off you went today, donut holes in hand.

Happy Birthday!!!

Here are a few pictures from over the years as you have changed and grown.

3 and 0.999726027

Big turns four years old tomorrow.

JHC.

It is trite to say that our kids are opposites.

I've heard people with seven kids say that all seven are as different from each other as different can be.

But it is so true. And we love each of them so much for their own uniqueness.

He is the rule-breaker, she the law-abidin' citizen. He is the silly to her serious. He is the do-first-ask-later, she is the ask-first, probably-don't-do. He is the physical to her cerebral. He is the gas to her solid. He is the kinetic to her potential. He is the Malcom X to her Dalai Lama. He is the practical to her idealism. His memory is the elephant to her Dory (in the movie Nemo). He is the exhibitionist to her privacy. He is the Felix to her Oscar.

We won't have to worry about her taking drugs in high school, but he'll be the one wondering what his brain would feel like as an egg in a frying pan.

He will be at the University of Wisconsin-Madison studying engineering in 14 years, visiting her at the Iowa Writer's Workshop while on spring break.

And I can tell you that his differences are reverberating throughout our household.

You will be aghast to note how Christmas mornings have gone for us, for the past (literally) nine years.

Maybe you'll think we are evil parents for what I am about to say, but I hope you'll understand and forgive us, and even experience a tinge of empathy. Perhaps you would do the same given the circumstances.

Anyway.

Nine is like BioMom in her law-abiding tendencies. Theirs are not the personalities of bending rules. Once we were at a pool with very exciting looking slides for which one's height had to reach a particular line on the wall in order to qualify to ride. Nine (at that time Five) missed the mark by fractions of an inch. I told her that I would vouch for her and that, in her parent's opinions, she could feel free to go.

Rather than break the official rule, even with her parent's permission, she looked longingly at the slides the rest of the day.

So, ever since I can remember, on Christmas Nine has come into our room, possibly forgetting the fact that the tree downstairs has been, most likely, accosted with present and stockings stuffed with chocolates and other assorted goodies, but willing to, none-the-less, given our urging to wait a bit before rushing downstairs to open presents while we sleep in.

Seriously. She has waited patiently by our bed, often engrossed in this book or that, until we groggily wake, perhaps even brew a cup of joe, before heading to open her presents. . . Often after 9 a.m.!?!

We got a taste of Christmas future, however, on St. Nick's day the other day.

The kids had left their shoes out on the hearth* (I've always wanted to use that word in real life!!!) before going to bed on December 5th.

The next morning at what seemed like five a.m., I awoke to what sounded like a wrecking ball in Big's room and then a herd of buffalo running down the stairs, and then ripping of paper, and then a loud announcement for all to hear about what he found.

He seriously didn't even wait for us! He just headed down and opened the stash he found in his shoes (a Playmobile figurine was left in each of our shoes. BioMom's sister donated her old Playmobile airport and plane but with no little figurines so St. Nick thought he'd rectify the situation. Big noted that the ones that Nine and BioMom got were "girls" whereas the ones for he and I were "boys", which, indeed they were. I couldn't pass up on the cook Viking dude that was available.).

So that's our boy!

*Saint Nicholas had a reputation for secret gift-giving, such as putting coins in the shoes of those who left them out for him, and thus became the model for Santa Claus,

How To Make The Winter Bearable, Part 2

We've been experiencing a few days and nights less than 32 degrees so.... HERE WE GO!!!

The Flood: Part I.

Cousin's Great Idea

So ever since Big was born (nearly FOUR years ago!?!), Nine has been jealous.

Her perceptions consistently view him as having advantages that she doesn't have, even when the evidence points otherwise.

She always says that she wishes she weren't the oldest kid in our family, even after BioMom and I point out the pains of being the youngest (of four in both of our cases) and the advantages of not only being older but also of being the oldest.

She'll admit it. She's not ashamed of her feelings. You know how kids are so amazing that way -- taking things as they come, without judgment.

Sometimes her reactions seem almost violent. Within the first week of him being home she lashed out at me, saying that I did nothing for the family -- "Mom gave birth and I'm the big sister!!"

And my reactions to her feelings have also not always been, well, relationship-enhancing.

I find jealousy to be an ugly human reaction and have only recently have I really delved into my "inner child" so to speak and figured this out and have (finally) found some empathy for it and, consequently, for her.

So, I was talking with Cousin the other day about it something entirely different when I started to make some connections and Cousin offered her ingenious solution.

I was talking about how Nine has so much trouble just picking up after herself, and that sort of thing.

I know that all kids aren't naturally great at it, but as Big is getting older, and, seemingly, more fastidious, her left-behind messes are becoming more apparent to those of us (me) who end up following behind her and picking them up (or nagging incessantly).

Then it dawned on me: maybe she is doing that subconsciously to force us to continue to "care" for her. A way of passively remaining the youngest, by requiring that sort of attention perhaps?

Then Cousin said: Why don't you let her have a day where she gets to be treated like the youngest one?

This was seriously brilliant.

I proposed it to Nine and BioMom and now we've experienced a couple weeks of it. On Saturday, usually, Nine declares it her day. On that day I pick up after her without complaint, and do lots of things for her that I would normally kvetch about and do with great disdain and resentment (Yes... A parent who feels resentful!! You see it here, dear reader!).

On every other day, she is expected to do that stuff for herself.

This is the brilliance of the plan -- she gets to FEEL special, like she has a day off etc. but our actions don't really change much at all. The cost to me on that day is the same as it was on every other day prior to the regime change! But now, NOW, on every OTHER day, I at least have a CHANCE that she'll focus and change her behavior a bit.

Sheer, loving, behavior-enhancing brilliance.

The Lion in Lamb's Clothing

I'm always surprised when I find out that a friend is anti-gay marriage.

I think I just move through the world thinking that people believe the way I do.

Regarding gay marriage, I'm not naive. I'm not a "marriage-only" type of lesbian. I'd be fine with it simply being my civil right. I'm a strong advocate of dividing church and state, and I think that we should have civil and religious aspects to marriage anyway. Furthermore, I'm libertarian enough to let someone with strong religious beliefs that tell them that gay marriage is immoral be.

Live and let live, I say.

So in the past couple of weeks, I've been sort of blind-sighted by first a student and then a friend who told me that they are anti-gay marriage.

Well, the friend said it more respectfully than the student: "That is a conversation that you and I shouldn't have. . . "

And then she went on to tell me that she puts me in a different camp.

Which I didn't understand at all, and then didn't follow up with a question.

It's funny. As liberal and libertarian as I am, I can't really let this one go. Do they really think that I don't deserve the same rights as every other citizen?

How does one get beyond this particular difference?