Sidetracked: I am from Sheboygan

Life is a little different this week. We essentially moved out of our house on Saturday in order to have all of our hardwood floors sanded and refinished. Besides the bathrooms and Clare's bedroom, the entire house is hardwood flooring, which therefore required us to cram every bit of furniture from our master bedroom and Finny's nursery into Clare's room, with our kitchen, playroom and family room furniture being stored either in the basement or on our screened in porch. The logistics were a tad nerve wracking but my husband was awesome!

We are staying at my in-law's beach house in Charlestown, Rhode Island during the first half of the week while the work is being done, and then I am flying with the kiddos to Wisconsin on Wednesday to visit my family since we have to stay out of the house until Friday. It's always fun to stay at my in-law's beach house as it is only 40 minutes or so from our house, but it is remote enough that you feel fairly detached from reality. Definitely strange leaving from there to go to work this morning, particularly in light of the rain deluge yesterday and this morning, which left us without power from 7:15 a.m. until we left just before 8 a.m.

In any event, Wisconsin, and Sheboygan in particular, have been on my mind these past few days as I packed suitcases for our trip, which was especially difficult as spring weather is never predictable. It's cool and rainy today, but just last week we had beautiful 70 degree sunny days. The Midwest and New England are not much different in that respect. Thinking such thoughts reminds me of an essay I wrote in December 2008, as a homemade Christmas gift. It is posted below:

I AM FROM SHEBOYGAN

I am from Sheboygan. I have lived in New England for a dozen years, but I am from Sheboygan.

When I was in high school, we referred to our town as “Sheer Boredom” to highlight its lack of cosmopolitanism. In the same vein that Target is called “Tar-jay” and the Salvation Army is affectionately referred to as “Sally’s,” my hometown has now taken on the moniker “Shevegas.” I even recently heard it called “Shebagdad,” which in today’s economic climate might not be far off.

I am from Sheboygan but I am now a New Englander. I moved to Connecticut during the summer of 1996, but I do not feel I truly became a New Englander until after I married my husband Josh in June 2005, and I certainly was one after the birth of my daughter Clare in June 2007. I am a New Englander now but will always have Midwest blood running through my veins.

It is strange to think that Clare, who looks and acts so much like me at eighteen months old, will grow up a New Englander – a Rhode Islander to be more specific – rather than follow in my Midwest footsteps. She will not be worse for it, hopefully better, but most certainly different than me. I have never cracked and eaten a lobster, but Clare likely will. I did not take my first plane ride until I was 23- years old but Clare has already logged four roundtrip flights! She is très cosmopolitan!

Clare will not grow up sledding at Volrath Bowl or Kiwanis Park, except maybe when she is visiting her grandparents at Christmas. She won’t spend summers at North Beach or learn to swim in Lake Michigan, though she will likely spend some time there now and again. Instead, Clare will spend summers at East Beach in Charlestown, Rhode Island and will learn to swim in the Atlantic Ocean; she will go sledding in winter at a location I am not even familiar with yet. I won’t be reliving my childhood through Clare, instead I will be an excited observer and participant in hers.

My family will do its best to make Clare a cheese head and she’s already seen her first sausage race at Miller Park, but I know Wally will probably end up her favorite mascot (unless of course she becomes a Badger like her Mumma!)