And So It Goes

Sometimes I wonder...

2012-02-16T22:15:00.001-06:00

...does she say to herself, What's the most inconvenient place I can possibly put my play kitchen? Here, between the kitchen and the front room? While Mom is trying to get lunch on the table and going back and forth? Yep, that will work.

Oh wait, there's still a way into the front room if Mom goes all the way down the hall and through the other doorway....

Yep, that will work.

The Highlight of My Days

2012-02-16T22:09:00.000-06:00

Farewell to Winja

2012-01-27T23:43:00.002-06:00

For the better part of a year now, Scout hasn't been able to say her own name. She knows a lot of obscure words, but Virginia wasn't one of them. Instead, she briefly called herself "Nina," which eventually morphed into "Winja." She's been Winja all through the delightful phase of referring to herself in the third person. "What's Winja doing?" "Winja is reading." "Winja is playing with dolly." "Winja is sad."

Winja narrates her life a little more than most, I think. This is probably my fault because I believed all those books that said to develop language by talking to my child about all the things I was doing. I suppose this practice may have contributed to her abundant language, but it has almost definitely also led her to believe that whatever one is thinking should be announced to the world. We hear all her inner conflicts, "no, don't kick mommy," and everything she's contemplating, "play with dolly," and have the opportunity to stop bad ideas before they turn into unfortunate action, "grab Thomas." Of course she's now moved on to pronouns and refers to herself as you (because everyone else calls her "you"). And most recently, she's gotten a fairly solid mastery of I, me and mine. Winja, however, remained the name she called herself.

Then, a few weeks ago, I heard her carefully sounding out "Vir-gin-ia." Well, at least we knew she could say it. Then she repeated it a few times, as if to show that she could. Unlike most of her developments, I didn't really applaud or celebrate this one. I liked Winja. It's endearing and easy to pronounce and works well enough. Nevertheless, I've noticed her calling herself Winja less and less. She almost exclusively refers to herself as Virginia now. And it makes me sad that my little girl is growing out of things. At long last, she's grown out of not being able to say her own name. Some things she'll grow out of and I won't miss, like diapers. But this one I'll miss. Like the tiny onesies I was so sad to tuck away every few months as she grew out of being a baby, I'm sad to let go of her self-appointed nickname and be back to plain old Virginia.

There are certain outfits that remind me of certain stages, like the clothes she wore the summer she crawled everywhere. Winja, I think, will always remind me of Scout learning to run, loving to jump, beginning to sing songs in somewhat recognizable tones, developing a vivid imagination, moving into a bigger bed and becoming a big sister.

A few weeks before Thomas was born, Scout and I spent an afternoon out in the courtyard in front of our apartment building. She and I went up and down the hill and crunched through the fall leaves. We pretended a round cement block was a birthday cake, then we ran around and around the circle. After a while, I sat down in the grass and watched her practice going up and down the stairs without help. Someday she'll be confident enough to always go up and down the stairs without holding my hand. And when I'm carrying groceries and a baby, I won't mind. But I also try to remember that she won't always be so willing to take my hand and need me, even if it is just a little.It was a wonderful afternoon of relaxing and enjoying my daughter just exactly where she was.

As I watched her, I reflected on how far she's come. When I watch her prancing around and doing her funny little walks, I remember how long it took her to crawl and how hard she worked to be able to walk. I love to watch her run, even if it means she runs away from me sometimes. I'm never sad that she runs because for such a long time she wanted to run so much and couldn't. Now, at last, she runs around and around the living room and, even though she's been doing it for months, it makes us both rejoice.

Some of the best parenting advice I think I've ever received is to enjoy the stage your child is in and not spend all your time wishing for the next development. I do try not to pass too much time pining for the next stage, even when she wants it even more than I do. Conversely, I guess I shouldn't spend too much time mourning how little and cute she used to be and the fun things she used to do. I've tried to live in these moments and enjoy her discovering life in so many ways. And I know exciting things are yet to come with new developments that will be just as celebrated. I must confess, though, that I will always look fondly back on Winja and may sometimes, just for a minute, wish that I could have her back.

Loving Big Sister

2012-01-27T22:03:00.000-06:00

Despite the fact that Scout still seems to think Thomas lives at the hospital and will go back there someday, she does her best to keep him happy. She sings him songs when he's sad and lets me know whenever she thinks he might want his binky.

The other day I decided to hang a few toys from his car seat handle. Scout liked the idea and decided to bring him more. By the time I was able to convince her that he had enough toys, I could barely see him underneath the pile of toys she had given him.

Switch

2012-01-17T22:52:00.000-06:00

Scout informs me that she is growing little and Tommy is growing big. When she is little, she says, she will sit in his swing and sleep in his bassinet. And, of course, she's already making use of his carseat and binky. Thus far, all parties have upehld their obligations.

One of my children was laying in bed crying loudly at 3:15 this morning, but not the one you'd expect (he was eating peacefully).

One of my children had a blowout this morning that necessitated the replacement of every item of clothing the child was wearing except the socks, but not the one you'd expect (he kept his inside his diaper).

One of my children cried, squirmed and complained loudly while being changed for and put to bed tonight, but not the one you'd expect (he spent the time calmly sitting in his swing looking around and smiling).

One of my children yells at the camera and produces weird expressions when I try to take pictures, but not the one you'd expect (he looks calm and cute and smiles like a champ).

As for Tommy, he is growing faster than we can believe. We actually had to break out the next size of clothes before he reached the supposed age of those clothes. That's never happened in our house before. He'll be getting new, larger ear molds for his hearing aids tomorrow.

We're now taking bets on which of our children will surrender the binky first. My money is on Tommy.

Thomas, Gunn and Tommy Gunn

2012-01-17T22:12:00.000-06:00

Another Idea

2011-12-28T16:28:00.002-06:00

Virginia's new plan to become an only child again:
"Put Thomas away, back inside Mommy's tummy!"

No thanks.

Blue-eyed Boy

2011-12-22T15:03:00.000-06:00

Be Jealous

2011-12-22T14:56:00.000-06:00

Today we've had not one,

but TWO excavators digging up our courtyard.

Scout has been watching them from the comfort of her very own couch all morning. There's even a skid steer out of the frame.

This may be the happiest day of her life.

Distractions

2011-12-11T18:08:00.000-06:00

I don't always get as much done as I'd like to these days. I don't even do a great job of taking pictures of my kids. This baby is just so easy to admire that I get busy enjoying him and forget to take out my camera. Today, I thought I'd let you share in the distraction.

We'll start with baby feet. Irresistible.

Then there are the friendly faces he puts on to let me know that it's really not time to sleep at all (these are particularly prevalent around 3:00 a.m.).

And even when he is asleep, there's plenty to love. He'll start to whine, so I pick him up to feed him and he cuddles right up and goes back to sleep. It's hard to want to disturb this.

Baby ear hair. At no other time in life is hair on the ears attractive, gotta live it up while he can.

Finally, there are the clothes. I know most people prefer dressing girls. However, I enjoy the color palette of boy clothes much more. Boys are especially fun when you find mint-condition baby sized penny loafers at the thrift store.

On the Proper Place for Siblings

2011-12-09T15:42:00.000-06:00

Every time we drive past the hospital where Thomas was born, Virginia points it out as "where Thomas lives." I've tried to explain that he lives with us now. It hasn't quite sunk in.

I've always suspected that, while she does like Thomas, she wishes his parents would come pick him up so she can have her parents all to herself again. My suspicions were confirmed today.

Scout had an appointment at the Children's Hospital for a hearing test and I told her we'd be going to the hospital today. At first, she seemed to think she'd be getting yet another baby brother. She wasn't exactly thrilled. Nope, I cleared that one up fairly easily. After that, when I said we were going to the hospital, she would excitedly add, "with Thomas." I figured it was sweet that she wanted her little brother to come along. Not so. When it came time to put on her coat she informed me that we were on the way to the hospital to take Thomas back.

Sorry kiddo, not today.

Tummy Time

2011-12-01T19:45:00.000-06:00

What's good for the goose is good for the gander, right?

Expressions

2011-12-01T19:43:00.000-06:00

Surprised

Skeptical

Peaceful

Unimpressed

Bored

Perturbed

Sick

I'm really not sure but it had to be documented.

Tired

Relaxed

Unexpected

2011-11-23T19:39:00.001-06:00

Today we took Thomas to be fitted for hearing aids. They will be blue. Yes, hearing aids come in blue, and a variety of other fun colors, and you can put stickers on them. I went for blue for several reasons. As James pointed out, they will be easier to find if dropped. They might also help people resolve the ever-present "which gender is this infant?" dilemma. He may enjoy having something besides taupe. But, possibly most significantly, it's my way of embracing the situation. I don't want the hearing aids to feel like something to be ashamed of, something he should try to hide or something that makes him inferior. They may make him different, but don't we all have something unique? Mostly, I hope Thomas's hearing loss won't define him. It will be just one aspect of the many that will make up our wonderful boy. And yes, he is already wonderful, very very sweet and rather a good sleeper.

Thomas did not pass his newborn hearing screen. The nurses wouldn't say that he "failed," just that he "referred," meaning they referred us to the audiology department at the children's hospital for another test because, honestly, after nine months submerged in liquid, it's a miracle anyone comes out without fluid behind their eardrums. Thomas, however, did not have fluid in his inner ears. After a few trips to the hospital and several more hours of tests, we learned that he has a mild hearing loss. Although he can hear many things, particularly at close range, his hearing is such that he may have a speech impediment or learning delays without the help of a hearing aid. Of course we want our son to have as much opportunity for success as possible, so he is getting hearing aids.

People's response thus far has typically been to say "I'm sorry." I think that's a normal and fine response, but for some reason I bristle at it. I guess it's because I'm not sorry, mostly because I don't look at the situation that way. We already have one imperfect child (aren't they all?), so it's not too upsetting to get another. When I think about it I feel a little overwhelmed, a little scared, but primarily I feel profoundly grateful.

I'm grateful that we caught the impairment so early. I'm grateful for the technology that allows newborns' hearing to be tested so comprehensively. I'm grateful for the technology that will help him hear more like the average person. Twenty-five years ago, that technology wasn't available to all children. I am grateful that Thomas is in a home with parents who will do all we can to love him, get him the necessary help and do what is necessary to maximize on his ability to communicate. And, having spent several weeks not knowing the extent of his impairment and reading about cochlear implants, sign language, and severe hearing loss; I'm profoundly grateful that the impairment is only mild. When you've been worrying about severe, mild is a wonderful place to be. I am grateful for the profound sense of peace I feel about it all and that I know our little boy is going to be just fine.

Because we are at the beginning of what, I suspect, will be a very long journey, we were handed an extremely thick notebook of resources at our appointment today. It may weigh as much as Thomas. Nevertheless, I know we are in good hands because this is what we found in the front of the notebook. It expresses perfectly how I have felt.

Welcome to Holland

by Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe hte experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this...

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases is Italian. It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack you bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stweardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.

So youy must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around....and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy...and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever ,ever go away...because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But...if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things...about Holland.

Basil for Scout

2011-11-11T14:33:00.000-06:00

You've read Blueberries for Sal? It's a favorite of ours these days. In September, we got to do a somewhat similar task. Instead of collecting blueberries, however, we were picking basil.

Instead of Blueberry Hill, we were at Vermont Valley Community Farm, from whence comes our weekly CSA box in the summer.

There was plenty of wandering off by herself, though no inadvertent following of bears. And, of course, just like Sal, Scout plopped herself in the middle of a patch of basil to fill her bag.

Too bad basil doesn't quite make a keplink, kerplank, kerplunk like blueberries in a pail. Daddy was typically close at hand, doing the real work in terms of basil picking.

At seven month pregnant, Mom was mostly relegated to chasing down the wandering Scout and taking pictures.

The discovery of a fuzzy caterpillar on one of the basil leaves was probably the most exciting part of the day. Helping Scout not inadvertently smash said caterpillar was the most challenging.

And now we have plenty of tasty basil and pesto stored up for the long, cold winter.

When is a Camping Trip Not a Camping Trip?

2011-11-11T14:18:00.000-06:00

Early this summer, we bought a tent. It was on sale, we wanted to camp, and it is big enough for our expanding family, even taking a pack n' play into account. Once the tent was bought, we set a date to camp. It was really the only weekend that would work for us, so we set it in stone. Our friends invited us over that night, but we turned them down. The weekend was set aside for camping. Period.

We also figured going by ourselves once would be a good warm up for the upcoming ward camping trip. This way we could always come home if it got to be two or three in the morning and no one was sleeping. We picked a spot not too far from home, planned our meals, packed our car and were ready to go.

Upon arrival we found that camping in Wisconsin is not quite camping in Utah and Arizona. Some of the spots felt more like a nicely groomed park than a campground.

And they looked out over fields, which isn't exactly rustic or wild.

Still, it was much more wilderness-ish than Madison. And we weren't going to complain about the playground equipment that was a quick favorite of the youngest member of our family.

So, we found the most wooded spot we could and set up our tent. Scout loved the tent. We mostly wanted her to build good associations with "camping", so the trip was going well.

We built a fire and threw in our tinfoil dinners.

It was then that the problem came. Truthfully, the problem wasn't really unexpected. I had looked at the weather forecast Thursday and noticed that Friday night called for thunderstorms. Seventy percent chance. The rest of the week was completely clear, but of course Friday it was supposed to storm. We'd kept an eye on things all day Friday, with no hope in sight. Still, we decided to risk it.

Just as James really got the fire going, it started pouring. The other two families at the campsite packed up and left. Scout and I hung out in the tent (good thing she loved the tent so much, eh?).

When the rain let up, we decided to seize the day and roast marshmallows for s'mores while the dinner was cooking. It seemed prudent to make dessert between downpours, make hay while the sun shines, if you will.

James makes wonderful s'mores. He melts the chocolate on the grill just a bit and roasts the marshmallows to perfection. Scout was a little unsure at first, but in the end she liked them.

James was extremely enthusiastic about what he labeled possibly the best s'more of his life.

Virginia was really more interested in playing in her camping chair.

And drinking the punch, most of which ended up spilled down the front of her clothes.

As we were finishing our (delicious) dinner, it started raining again. And we started to worry. After all, it's not a great idea to hang out in the tallest trees around during a thunderstorm, particularly if they're sitting on top of the tallest hill around and you live in tornado territory. So, we called it a good try, packed everything up and headed home before the sun set.

At least Virginia had fun and thinks "camping" is great. Someday we'll see how she does with sleeping in a tent. But apparently it won't be this year. James ended up at a conference in Germany the weekend of the ward campout, and I just wasn't feeling brave enough to do it alone. So, camping will have to wait until next year. We've decided that it just wasn't meant to be this time. Why else would we have been scared off the hill (can't really be called a mountain) by a thunderstorm only to return home? And, of course, as we drove back to Madison, the clouds parted and it didn't rain another drop all night.

Captured!

2011-11-10T19:03:00.001-06:00

Well, I've made more attempts at photographic representations of my latest offspring. Here are the results:

He is, of course, more cooperative when sucking on something.

But these two aren't bad, except for the weird lower lip sucking in the first one.

I can make most of the separate pieces look right, though it's difficult to get them all looking right together.

Here's what he looks like most of the time (asleep).

He only looks like this a little bit, mostly when his diaper or clothes are being changed.

And this one, I think, is my favorite.

The Second Time Around

2011-11-01T23:31:00.000-05:00

(This is the story of my labor, so if you don't want to know, don't read it--you can safely look at the pics at the end and move on with life.)

The contractions started earlier this time, Friday night. Thirty-six weeks and six days, just one day shy of "full-term." Unfortunately, contractions only came when I was lying down trying to sleep. As soon as I'd get up to time them, they went away. Still, I spent most of the night getting work done, washing dishes (because I just couldn't come home from the hospital to a pile of dirty dishes--aren't you proud, Mom?) and thinking that maybe this time they would stick and it would be labor. Nope. Sometime around six I gave it up and decided to get what rest I could, sleeping most of the morning.

I was pretty exhausted, but we really wanted to take one last trip to the Farmer's Market so we did that. And, of course, we couldn't skip our dear friend Alex's birthday party. So, we went bowling. Yep, bowling. All week long people kept asking me if I could. I didn't see why not. I mean, my balance wasn't great and neither was my score, but I don't exactly consider bowling strenuous activity. For the record, two of the people on my lane (ahem, James, ahem) were complaining of bowling aches and pains before I was.


I know, this photo is terrible, but it's the only one I have and I do think you need the visual here. It's also the latest pregnant pic I have, so it gives you an idea of my final size (let's just say, considerably larger than with Scout).

Saturday night, same routine. This time I was a little wiser. I knew the contractions weren't going to do anything for me, so I relieved whatever bodily complaint may accompany the contraction (it was a night of several trips to both the bathroom and the kitchen), and went back to sleep.

Sunday morning, I dragged myself out of bed and off to church. Of course all this contracting doesn't make for much rest, so I did take plenty of opportunity to complain of being really tired. And I may or may not have slept through the entire primary program rehearsal. It isn't my fault they gave me a seat on the back row with a very convenient wall to lean my head against. I talked with several people who had weeks of Braxton Hicks (warm-up) contractions before actual labor set in with their second children. So, I resigned myself to several more weeks of pregnancy, and made plans for nearly every day of the following week. Sitting around, clearing your schedule and waiting for a baby can make a person crazy!

Sunday afternoon we had a tour of the hospital's maternity ward. It was nice to visualize the process once again and remember how things were going to go. Plus, we got a preview of the super-deluxe suites they've installed since Scout was born. And when we told Virginia that Mommy was going to the hospital, she knew what that meant.

Sunday night, same story, more sleep. I had one really painful contraction that reminded me why labor isn't such a walk in the park. Other than that, I pretty much turned over and went back to sleep. It's important to sleep while you can, right?

Monday I went to the doctor, who gave me the standard spiel (I could check you, but it wouldn't tell us anything, but if you want me to I will). I opted to save myself the personal intrusion. After that I went in to work for most of the day (a delivery was supposed to come in to the office, though it never did). Monday night, more contractions.

Tuesday was life as usual, working, playing with Scout, etc. I have several hours of work meetings on Tuesday afternoon, so I ate my lunch and sat down for the usual line-up. I chose the exercise ball for my desk chair since I'd spent most of Monday in a really uncomfortable office chair and wasn't liking chairs generally at this point.

My last meeting (with my boss) ended just before 3pm. We'd talked through several things that I was going to get done before having the baby. However, when I stood up from the meeting, my water broke. It always seems to happen when I'm really in the mindset of having several weeks yet to go. So I was genuinely quite surprised. I was also a little relieved, as I'd wondered how I would know when I was really in labor if my water didn't break again like it did with Virginia. Apparently my body functions in a rather particular way. My water breaks long before labor really gets going and my children are born at approximately 37.5 weeks. In terms of gestational age, Thomas was born a day earlier than Scout.

So, I told James, gave my boss the fun news, and called my mom so she could start looking a plane tickets. A brief period of total chaos then followed. Having resigned myself to waiting several more weeks, I had nothing packed. I'd written a birth plan, which was nicely saved on my computer but not printed out. I had to dig out the hospital registration I'd procrastinated sending in and fill that out. James went to our storage room to get a suitcase and started hauling up all the baby furniture he could find--the bassinet, the bouncer, the swing. Meanwhile, Virginia was running around trying to tell everyone what to do and not knowing quite how to react to the obvious frenzy going on around her. Amidst all of this, of course, we had to put childcare plans into play. And, most randomly, James's distant relative called for some family history information. She wanted to know whether we'd had any more children since she lasted checked in with us. We told her to call back tomorrow for an update.

After about an hour, I thought I probably ought to call the doctor (I hear they appreciate that kind of thing). I still wasn't having any pain and, in fact, the contractions had stopped entirely. She said I could wait up to four hours before showing up at the hospital. So, we made plans to have dinner together before departing. However, I realized that I wasn't supposed to eat anything, so I changed my mind on dinner participation. I was actually hungry, but after last time, I have no desire to eat while in labor ever again. Scout knew we were going somewhere in the car and she desperately wanted to come, so we decided to drop me at the hospital (which just had to be calmer than home) and have James bring Scout back home, give her dinner, and get everything else together.

When I walked in, I'm sure the person at the desk thought I was crazy. First, I was alone (who labors alone?) and second I clearly wasn't in any pain. Nevertheless, they believed me on the water breaking story (unlike last time) and even let me skip triage (why create more laundry?). I changed into a hospital gown, broke out my iPod, and settled in for what I hoped would be a nice nap before things got started. By this time, it was approximately 6pm and I figured I was in for a long night. I was a little concerned about my energy level, so I figured a nap was the best thing for me.

My nurse came in before too long and started monitoring me. Everything was fine and I was only feeling every fourth or fifth contraction. As it turns out, the nurse had no other patients (apparently lots of people had babies that day, but they all finished shortly before I got there). James got there about 6:30 and we settled in. I wanted to start walking and moving more now that James had arrived and I could safely progress. Somewhere around then, the nurse decided to check me and I was at a 5. Halfway done!

Around 7:00, my doctor came by. She had told me she'd be along in a few hours since she had another patient in labor as well. She wanted to check whether she could go home and put her son to bed before I would deliver. I felt great, so I confidently told her to take her time. Anyway, my doctor wasn't present at Virginia's delivery, so I'm none too attached to having a certain person catch the baby. So, the doctor headed home and the nurse promised to call if my demeanor changed before she got back. Once she left, I got up and started walking around the room. I was having almost continual contractions, though they weren't too bad. The nice thing about contractions (as opposed to appendicitis) is that the pain comes, and more importantly goes, in waves. You can also move around to make them less painful, which I appreciate. If you can just breathe for thirty seconds and keep moving, it subsides.

At 7:30, things settled down a bit and the nurse checked me again. Seven centimeters. I couldn't really remember, but apparently two centimeters in an hour is fast (or so said James). At this point, the nurse decided to call the doctor. She also said I couldn't get in the bathtub if I wanted the doctor there for my delivery. Moreover, the squatting bar was right out until the doctor walked through the door. So, I kept walking, and leaning, and rocking on the ball, and all those lovely things that help, but not really enough.

I think it was around 8:00 that the doctor came back (I wasn't really focused on the clock). She said it was now or never on the medication. I decided to try to bear one more contraction. And from there she kept telling me to do one more and one more. Sadly, they don't let you decide to have medication in the middle of a contraction. It's not really that sad, and I understand why they do it, but that doesn't mean I have to love it.

The next thirty minutes of this story are painful and ugly and I don't particularly care to relive them. So we'll just say that I finally made it to 10 centimeters (that's when they let you start pushing) at 8:25pm. And Thomas was born at 8:29. I could not believe it when they told me to feel his head already. He was screaming before his feet were even out, but he calmed down well once I got to hold him.

Lots of people have asked why his hands are purple. It's normal for new babies and results from the body switching over from relying on the umbilical cord to total independence. The extremities don't get priority when the heart is working on closing off valves and making the whole circulation thing happen.

I'm still quite amazed that things went so quickly. In fact, the nurses warned me to come in with a little more haste next time, lest I have a baby at home. When my water broke, I thought for certain that I'd be up all night and his birthday would be October 19. Not so. Not that I'm complaining. I also think it's cool that his birthday, 10-18-11 and my birthday, 01-11-81, have all the same numbers just in a different order. It's not as cool as being born on 11-11-11, but it's pretty nifty to me anyway.


Here we are together. I think this picture was actually taken before the last one because his hands aren't purple yet.

See? He's pretty much only happy when I'm holding him. Okay, that's not true, but he is much happier when being held close, even now.

So, the official information, for those interested, is:

Thomas Gunn McKay

Born: Tuesday, October 18, 2011 at 8:29 p.m.

Weight: 6 lbs. 13 oz.

Length: 18 inches

Here's a nice family picture for you.

Scout is adjusting fairly well to having a brother. She was very excited to come see him at the hospital and spent a lot of time talking about the baby coming out of mommy's tummy. Of course it's a big adjustment, but that's to be expected. One of my nurses in the hospital told me two is the worst age at which to add a new sibling. Great advice when it's too late for me to do anything about it, huh? I do think we nearly blew Scout's mind the day we explained that I am her mommy AND Tommy Gunn's mommy, but she's doing better with that now. She doesn't like sharing my time and attention, but at least she understands it.

She likes to pat him on the head and on the knee and foot whenever she wakes up. It's very sweet. Today she decided it would be a good idea to pick him up. Fortunately, she announces everything she's about to do before she does it, so I was able to relieve her of that notion before anything bad happened.

I think this is the closest she has come to giving him a kiss.

While we're mentioning Scout, for those of you interested in comparisons, she was born one day later in my pregnancy. She was half an inch long and weigh 2 oz more. And her labor lasted quite a bit longer, 10.5 hours with 45 minutes of pushing. Not that I'm complaining. The other woman my doctor had at the hospital had been there since the night before, and I still delivered before her. I don't know how those women do it!

And now, the thing you really want, gratuitous pictures of our little Tommy Gunn, because I can.

If you don't know, Tommy is named after our fathers. We think it's a good, strong name and hope he won't hate the nickname too much. Guys tend to think it's awesome, women tend to think we're crazy. Go figure.

All bundled up in his bed. This bed has been used by both of our children and a few friends' babies as well.

Getting inspected by the big sister.

Having a nap with Dad.

His fist time in real clothes. We won't say how many days old he was at this point. We've both had a lot of all-day pajama days since he was born.

With his Monga, who helped us all survive his first week at home. She's been gone more than 48 hours now and we've managed to avoid disaster thus far.

Looking a little more like himself rather than just a squishy, generic newborn.

These I took yesterday. I'm not overly enamored with any of them, but they give you an idea of what he looks like at two weeks. I have yet to truly "capture" Thomas, so I have to share my attempts.

So, after two weeks, we're all doing quite well, especially Thomas. He's up to 7 lbs. 4 oz. today, which is the 14th percentile. I guess that's good considering he wasn't supposed to be born until Saturday. His head circumference is in the 14th percentile as well, so it's really just his length that is off in 45th percentile land. He's already grown two and a half inches. I'm happy that I won't need to birth a bigger baby this weekend. Okay, let's be honest, I'm mostly just happy that I won't be birthing any babies at all! Nighttime feedings may be rough, but sleeping on my stomach is pretty great.

Recent Conversations That Don't Make Me Feel Better

2011-09-20T21:43:00.004-05:00

With my fetus

Fetus: I'm hungry mother, I really am.
Me: Oh Tommy, we've just had our dinner.
Fetus: But I'm hungry just the same mother. I so hungry I could eat a...a whole elephant!
Me: I think we did that yesterday.

(if you don't get the reference, watch this video)

With my computer

Me: It will no longer be necessary for you to show me pictures of Papa John's Pizza every time I log in to Facebook.
Computer: But you can have any large for just $11.
Me: I know.
Computer: Any large. Any number of toppings.
Me: I know.
Computer: And you do already have an account with them. I know. In fact, you've already taken advantage of this offer a few times. I know that too.
Me: I know you know. Nevertheless, it's hard enough for me not to order pizza every other day without you throwing it in my face.
Computer: But look at all this cheese!
Me: Fine. [typing www.papajohns.com]

With my doctor

Dr: Have you been measuring big?
Me: I'm not sure.
Dr: You're big now.
Me: Okay.
Dr: Are we sure there's just one in there?
Me: There better be.

Oh, What do you do in the Summertime?

2011-07-31T15:05:00.009-05:00

Oh, what do you do in the summertime,

when all the world is green?

Do you fish in a stream,

or lazily dream on the banks as the clouds go by?

Is that what you do?

So do I!

Oh, what do you do in the summertime,
when all the world is green?
Do you swim in a pool,

to keep yourself cool,

or swing in a tree up high?

Is that what you do?

So do I!

Oh, what do you do in the summertime,

when all the world is green?

Do you sit in the shade,

or drink lemonades,

or count all the stars in the sky?

Is that what you do?

So do I!

"I working"

2011-07-03T23:07:00.000-05:00

Swinging With Bumpa

2011-07-03T23:05:00.000-05:00

In Other Words, I Like It

2011-06-05T20:46:00.002-05:00

People keep asking me how the new job is going. I think this about sums it up:

Early Friday evening, I was pondering how much work to do and how much to leave for Saturday. Someone wisely reminded me this week that there will always be something in my inbox, so I shouldn't try to have everything done all the time. The "to-do" list will always have something left on it. Of course, that doesn't mean my list wasn't really long. Starting a new job usually means having too much to do for a while.

I decided instead of looking at how much I had left that I could do, I would count the number of hours I'd put in during the week. I couldn't really quit without my 40 hours, right? Excepting the 12 hours I'd spent finishing up the LSAT class I was still teaching, I arrived at 37.5. So really, I ought to put in 2.5 more hours between Friday and Saturday. Totally doable.

But then, I realized that this included 7 hours of work on Monday. And Monday was supposed to be a holiday. How, I wondered, would I ever have enough time to do all of my work in a regular week when I didn't have that "bonus" day to put in extra hours? Then I realized that Monday was a holiday. Meaning I didn't have to work it. Meaning I only had to work 32 hours this week. Meaning I was already over by 5.5 hours.

Of course the beauty of salaried work is that you still just do it, no matter how many hours it is. And I still did several hours of work Friday night. But I also felt just fine about the amount of work I'd done, no matter how long the to-do list remained.

It's Official...

2011-06-05T20:44:00.001-05:00

...my baby has turned into a little girl.

When did that happen?

Day 49: Hopes, Dreams and Plans for the Next 365 Days

2011-05-27T19:58:00.002-05:00

1 - Finish this 50 days of getting to know me! (I know, you all wish it would end too. Well, it will, soon.)

2 - Survive

3 - Be happy - I hope this one happens at least once a day, but I think that's up to me.

4 - Have a baby - This one is slated for early November.

5 - Re-organize my bedroom - It's been worse, but it could be better.

6 - Organize the sun room into a functional space instead of a storage bin.

7 - Get my new job down from "overwhelming" to "engaging" or at least just "challenging" - I hope this one doesn't take the whole year, but with only five days under my belt it's hard to tell.

8 - Go to the doctor as little as possible - I know this one conflicts with #4, but I've been to the doctor a LOT this year. I'm ready for a nice, long bout of good health.

Day 48: A Photo of You Right Now

2011-05-15T14:31:00.000-05:00

We're going to go with a photo of me one week ago, enjoying Mothers' Day.

As to what I look like right now, I'll give you a mental picture. Glasses on (which are approximately 12 years old, so already not exactly good looking), one eye a little red and watery, the other eye absolutely red and extremely watery. That eye is typically shut, though, so really I look more like a pirate than a drug addict. Runny nose, headache, pajamas, still a bit out of it from the Benadryl I took sometime in the middle of the night. Yay pollen!

See? Aren't you glad you got a picture from last week?

Day 47: Birthday Wish List

2011-05-07T20:21:00.002-05:00

This one probably just isn't going to work for me. I got the one thing I've wanted for years for my birthday this year. And I absolutely love it. I even got what I wanted for Mother's Day; my bathroom, kitchen and living room are clean and I only had to clean one of them. So now, there's not much I really wish for. I mean, I wish I had more energy. I wish I didn't have so many allergies. But those things just aren't going to happen until everything dies again. And I don't want that.

Of course I could always name off nebulous things like peace on Earth, health for my family, cheaper gas and a live-in maid and cook and that sort of thing. But then, don't we all want those things? So I'm probably just not going to submit a Birthday Wish List. Besides, it seems a little premature to start requesting. My birthday is, after all, more than eight months away. Who knows what I'll want then? Probably just more sleep.

Day 46: Photos of Personal Things in Your Life (pets, family, house, etc.)

2011-05-06T06:25:00.000-05:00

I feel like I post about this stuff pretty frequently. But, here's something you don't see every day. This is what I see when I wake up in the morning:

I love all the lines from the door frames, the molding and the windows. It makes me glad to live here. But maybe you actually have to be laying in my bed to appreciate it fully.

Day 45: A Letter to Yourself a Year Ago

2011-05-03T10:53:00.001-05:00

Dear Melanie:
This year won't be a great one; I wish I could prepare you. Your friends will suffer hearbreaking losses, your health will be less than ideal, your vacations will all turn out much worse than expected. The Spring you're loving so much will not be back for a very long time. There won't be enough time, energy or money for all you'd like to do. There will always be too much or too little work. Family will feel very far away. It's going to be a long year.

Fortunately, I can't tell you all of that. You'll just have to experience it. And if you were caught up in what a long year it's going to be, you might miss all the things you'll enjoy. So go ahead and be optimistic. You will lose all that weight. Scout will learn to walk, if not as soon as you'd like. Your friends will still be wonderful and some of them will have good news to share. As with anything difficult, you will learn and grow. There will be beautiful days and beautiful moments and a lot of smiles amid the tears. So, enjoy those and tell yourself you're having a good year. It might help convince me that I've had one too.

All my best,
Melanie

Favorite Moments of the Past Few Days

2011-05-02T21:02:00.002-05:00

Saturday: Standing in our garden, watching the trees blow in the wind and the clouds roll in thinking I could stay here all day.

Sunday: Watching Virginia get SO excited to see her various relatives on Skype. "I hear Papa...It's his tummy! Papa's tummy!" Then, when we lost the connection with Bumpa and Nonna and, though she'd been rather disinterested at that point, when they came back online not thirty seconds later she was as excited to see them as if it had been a week. "It's NOOOOnna! It's BUMPA!!" Apparently it's more exciting to greet grandparents than actually have a conversation with them.

Today: After a long day, I decided to make myself some brownies. As soon as I started blending the wet ingredients with the dry, I could smell the chocolate goodness that was on its way. And I thought to myself, yep, this was the right decision.

Please excuse me, I have to go eat brownies now.

Day 44: Something That Fascinates You and Why

2011-05-02T20:25:00.003-05:00

I am always amazed by Spring. Despite my allergies, I love it. I love the renewal of life and the reminder that even under frozen feet of snow, little seeds of life are hanging out, waiting to spring up and come alive again. I love the hope it brings that, no matter how dead and cold things may seem, there will be Spring. I think I love Spring the most right about February, when it feels really far away.

It reminds me of a favorite quotation of mine:
"Then, when it seems we will never smile again, life comes back." Mark M. Baldwin

Day 43: A Photo of Your Favorite Place in the World

2011-04-18T06:56:00.003-05:00

It's not so much the view of for me

It's the view from San Vigilio's Hill in Bergamo.

Scout's thoughts on...

2011-04-17T21:40:00.000-05:00

Her name

Virginia now refers to herself as "Scout." If you ask her name, that's her response. However, she also calls herself "Winja." I think yesterday I heard her say something like "Virwinja." I guess I should stop calling her Winja. But she responds to it so well.

How Best to Help Mom Clean the Fridge

Her father's profession

Scout has long enjoyed singing "The Wheels on the Bus." Since visiting her Nonna at Christmas, her favorite verse has been the driver saying "move on back." She has a book called "My Car" about Sam, who loves is car and works as a bus driver.

She also loves to stand on the couch and look out the window whenever people leave our apartment. She especially loves watching her dad because he waves back and blows kisses. I've told her that he's going to work and I've told her that he has to catch the bus.

She seems to have combined the two. When James left yesterday, she said, "Daddy go work; drive bus." Well, at least she thinks her dad's job is cool.

The person most worthy of her attention

Potty Training

Virginia has been very interested in all things bathroom related lately, so I went ahead and bought her a little toilet. I have no expectations that she will actually give up diapers anytime soon, but I though I'd maximize on the potty excitement. When we got home, she got out the "froggy potty" and sat on it for about twenty minutes, in the middle of the living room. She produced nothing. I moved it into the bathroom, where she absolutely refuses to go anywhere near it. Whenever I ask her if she wants to use it (she starts squatting and we both know what's coming), she says no. However, she will put her dolls on it. And she occasionally hauls the potty out into the middle of the living room rug and stands in it. Good thing she never did produce anything the one time I got her to take off her diaper and sit on it.

What's important in books
Scout has long known the names of most of her books. However, I also typically read off the author because it gives me something to say as we flip through the title page. So now, she rattles off an author whenever we read a book. The problem? She seems to think Kevin Henkes wrote every book we have.

What one does while sitting on the toilet

Where she ought to sit in the car

"driver"

How to help Mom make breakfast

She eats the dry ingredients, by the handful.

Day 42: A Bad Habit You Have

2011-04-17T20:55:00.000-05:00

Procrastinating

(obviously)

Day 41: Whatever Tickles Your Fancy

2011-04-13T14:18:00.003-05:00

We saw this truck one day while driving down the interstate. It's actually a hospital laundry service. However, I just love the message. How many things do we buy cheap, knowing they won't last, just to throw them away and replace them in a few weeks, months or years? Why aren't things made to last anymore? They're not even made to be repaired. Most things are made to be replaced. I realize this provides more opportunity for corporations to make money selling us junk. I do not, however, see why we as consumers put up with it. In fact, we plan for it. I want my clothes to last more than one year. I want to be using the same pots and pans I got for my wedding when my daughter got married (my mom is). I hate throwing away a whole printer/fax/copier just because one tiny piece isn't working anymore and it's impossible to fix. I do not think it's really necessary that in the nearly five years we've been married we've had to buy a new waffle iron, a new blender, a new microwave and a new toaster. I know being "green" is very trendy right now. And I think that's all fine and good. However, I wonder whether we'd have to worry so much about how biodegradable things are if we didn't throw so much away? People also recycle a lot, which I don't buy into at all. I know an environmental engineer who says it's environmentally neutral. And even if it isn't, is it really better to recycle than to simply reduce or reuse? Why have we forgotten those other two important Rs? I think we could buy less, use less, reuse more and keep using a whole lot of things if we'd only go for quality rather than low price. Maybe it's because I'm not a huge shopper, but I try to think about things long term. I'd rather pay more now than come back next year and buy it again. Sadly, I think I'm in the minority, so it's growing increasingly difficult to find anything made to last at all.

Day 40: A Deceased Person You Wish You Could Talk To

2011-03-31T22:13:00.003-05:00

I have four. My grandparents. And I'd want to bring Scout along, so she could know them too.

My Dad's dad died when I was eight. I remember the day it happened and I remember visiting him in the hospital a few days earlier. But I don't remember a lot about him. Mostly I remember that he always called me Princess. And his hair was half black and half white. It was pretty cool. I'd like to talk to him and get to know him better.

My Dad's mom died when I was eighteen. So I really was just becoming an adult when it happened. I think I was only beginning to appreciate how much she cared about me and how much I cared about her. I've often thought of her and felt her close. I think the best description I can give of her is that she was a good person. A very good person. She was very real and never stopped trying to be better. Still, I would love to know what wisdom she would pass on now that I'm no longer a child and I might absorb more of it.

My Mom's mom died when I was twenty-five. By great fortune, I was in town from Virginia and visited her the day before she passed away. My brother says all women in the family are destined to become just like her, so I guess I should be able to tell myself what she would say. But I'd like to hear it from her. And I'd like to tell her she doesn't have to worry so much. She did a good job, and we're all going to be okay.

My Mom's dad died two years ago. I'm sad he never met Virginia because he so loved to hold babies and rock them to sleep. But I am happy that he's with Grandma now. He loved her so. I think James loves me the way that Grandpa loved Grandma, and I'm glad that my children will have that kind of relationship to witness. He was such a positive person. Every time I play the piano, I think of him and wish he were there to listen. He would listen for hours and I don't know that anyone ever enjoyed it as much as he did. But then, he just enjoyed life.

I come from good people. I wish I could tell them that I miss them and how much I appreciate them.

Day 39: Zodiac Sign and Do You Think it Fits Your Personality?

2011-02-28T14:10:00.002-06:00

Well...it's a good thing I watch The Daily Show, or I might have gotten this one wrong. I've always believed myself to be a Capricorn, but some people now say I'm actually a Sagittarius. I'm not certain it really makes much difference to me.

Having read both descriptions, I'm going to say I'm a little of each. And, in truth, there's probably a good deal of every sign in me, as I suspect there is in each of us. I do think I'm more of an introvert (capricorn) than extrovert (sagittarius). However, that comes from knowing absolutely that I'm an INFJ (yep, me and Gandhi). And that's a whole other discussion entirely. So we won't go there...today.

Below are descriptions of my two signs. I'll let you decide which fits me best.

Capricorn:

Capricorns are very ambitious people, they always have something they are pursuing and they want their lives to be fulfilled and important. Capricorns are extremely patient and will wait a long time for something they want, when the opportunity arises, they will plan their steps carefully to others, they might appear hesitant but this is not true, they know that there is only one chance to succeed and they are filing together their information to take the proper steps to accomplish their goal with flying colors, not just second rate. Capricorns have a very active mind and strong powers of concentration. Capricorns like being in control of their surroundings and everyone in their life. Capricorns are very cautious but this only to survey the situation before leaping in, they will never make a hasty jump in. They accept change but introduce it slowly so they can get used to it and incorporate it into their life. Capricorns tend to see life in black or white, definitive's only. There are no gray areas for these are areas that are not understood and this makes Capricorn feel uncomfortable. They tend to be in control in a romantic relationship that way they are never vulnerable to another person.

Sagittarius:

Sagittarius is the sign of the zodiac mainly concerned with philosophy, higher education and global thinking. It is ruled by Jupiter, the planet of expansion, benevolence and luck/fortune. Individuals who have a strong Sagittarian influence are typically interested in expanding their horizons through traveling abroad, learning foreign languages, or immersing themselves in unique cultures. These individuals thrive on higher education; once they find a subject(s) they’re passionate about, they will search relentlessly for more answers and more information to build on what they know. They are also fond of ethics, as it appeals to their philosophical nature and is a subject that is so contextually dependent that they’re skilled at being flexible in applying sound philosophical observations to complex situations.

Because Sagittarius is a mutable sign, they are generally very adaptable philosophically because they seek to understand the world from a higher perspective and are perspicacious in finding higher meanings through their varied encounters. They tend to be optimistic and have a great capacity for faith, as it is this good-natured faith that usually plays into their fortunate endeavors. They are not usually known for their reliability (unless they also have a significant Capricorn influence) because their attentions have a tendency to be scattered.

Sagittarius is a fire sign, which imparts a fiery enthusiasm that shows through their (blunt) sincerity, honest convictions, and drive for independence. They enjoy adventures and are partial to the great outdoors.

Day 38: A Photo of Your Parents

2011-02-27T20:16:00.004-06:00

I have a very specific picture I want to post. However, I can't seem to find it at the moment. And I'm already a day late. So, due to a shocking lack of pictures of my parents together, I will give you a few individual pics.

This photo, for me, IS my dad. We're on a backpacking trip, he's wearing that sweatshirt that he always wears, and he's taking amazing photos.
This is one of my favorite photos that I've ever taken (sun spots notwithstanding).

Here, again, is dad. We're on the side of the road in Grand Teton National Park. Virginia needs to be burped. And he's far better at it than anyone else.
So here we are in the mountains again, where a Grandpa is always a good thing to have.

Here's Dad at Christmas, enjoying his Santa hat, enjoying his Boy Scout present, and sporting the pjs that match everyone else's.
This particular year, we didn't explicitly coordinate, we just all showed up wearing the pjs from the year before.

Here's Mom being a grandma, one of her favorite things. The location of the picture is also very important. I took this photo shortly after Memorial Day. When I was little, we ALWAYS went to the cemetery on Memorial Day with my mom's mom. And now, whenever I can, I still go.
As you can see, we have begun to initiate Virginia into this very important Hock women ritual (yes, W4 begins to realize her destiny).

Mom being a grandma again, this time at the Farmer's Market in Madison.

This one is from a wonderful week my mom and I spent together right after Scout was born. James had a conference in Germany, so Mom came into town.
It was a time of feeling greatly connected to my progenitors and posterity. It's hard to explain what a great experience it was to learn how to be a mother from my mother, with my daughter right there. We missed James, but it was a wonderful week (the parts I haven't blocked out due to sleep deprivation anyway).

And now...surprise! I had an epiphany and found my favorite picture after all. I didn't take this one, but here are my parents.

Day 37: A Song You Like to Dance To

2011-02-25T08:52:00.002-06:00

Lately, this could probably be any number of Kindermusik and other children's songs. However, if we're going with songs I prefer, rather than simply songs I frequently dance to, the selection is different. Here are a few I can't resist dancing to. I was going to give you YouTube links, but couldn't find good ones. Then Virginia started insisting that we listen to her music again =D.

I Just Can't Get Enough - Depeche Mode
Save the Last Dance For Me - Michael Buble
Ob La Di Ob La Da - The Beatles
S.O.S. - Abba
Vogue - Madonna
The Middle - Jimmy Eat World

Day 36: Some Hobbies of Yours

2011-02-22T19:37:00.003-06:00

reading

cooking

eating (nicely supported by the cooking hobby)

exercise (necessitated by the eating hobby)

Day 35: A Letter to an Ex

2011-02-21T19:09:00.002-06:00

Dear Tom:
I still remember the first time I saw you. You were hard to miss, with your imposing figure crammed into a chair designed for a high school student. We were in class together all summer, institute once a week, and I learned a little about you. Your head was shaved and had a huge scar. My mom informed me that was from the tumor you'd had removed. Everything looked good now; you were on the mend. You lived at your parents' house while recovering from the cancer. But you had a real job, something with computers I think. You were divorced, one very cute son and an ex-wife who sort of went off the deep end. No matter. And I learned that, despite your intimidating physique, you were absolutely kind and sweet and just a very gentle soul.

You must have liked me then, though I didn't notice. I was so caught up in so many things. Sorry I flirted with someone else on that long drive to the ward camp out. Really, I didn't know until the drive was almost over. Then the pieces came together and I could tell. You were interested and I wasn't. Sad, but very true.

Fall came and I moved off to school, returning frequently, but also growing increasingly entangled with someone else altogether. He could hardly have been more different from you. He was loud and confident, exciting, cosmopolitan, in absolute possession of my affections and not all that interested in having them. It wasn't that I didn't like you, just that I couldn't see past him. How hard it must have been for you to see me run after someone who cared so little! I suppose that, though I was destroyed by it, you rejoiced when he summarily ended our tumultuous relationship. It took you just a few days to ask me out. And so, because I wanted to go to the concert and I think everyone deserves a chance, I said yes.

You brought me a rose. That's never happened before. You took me for a walk after the concert. I love walks. And soon thereafter, you took me for another long walk, followed by dinner. You wanted to go out again; I wanted more time. My heart was still broken and I just wasn't ready to try again. I needed more space. You took me to a play; I wore a scarf that was my Christmas present from my ex. I wasn't ready to move on yet. After another really nice date, we talked. I explained that I couldn't be close to anyone at that point. You thought it was you. How it broke my heart trying to explain that I thought you were wonderful (if not quite my ideal) and the problem truly was ALL me. No matter, you said, take your time. "I would wait forever just to hold your hand." No pressure.

Valentine's Day was that week. Poor timing, I guess. You left a card at my door, reminding me that you would wait as long as it took. I was certain it would take forever, perhaps longer.

Another month passed and you called again. This time the proposed date was to my favorite musical. Why do guys I'm not interested in always plan the best dates? I had to say no. I could not bring myself to take advantage of your affection. And I couldn't lie to you. I was still too sad to love anyone. And I wasn't ready to believe that the things you saw to love in me were true. I was so certain that if you really knew me you would only be disappointed. So you see, I did care. I cared too much to crush your illusion and let you see that you were after a rather flawed dating reject. Of course you didn't see any of that, but I just couldn't believe you. And I couldn't take the risk that I was right, and once disillusioned you would leave me alone again.

We talked often and you tried to talk me out of going to law school. More importantly, you tried to talk me out of going away to law school. There was always a chance I would stay, but it never was a very good one.

Easter came, and you called me again. This time you just wanted to talk. So we went for another walk and I listened. The tumor was back and it didn't look good. I don't remember what I said or how we parted. It seemed so surreal.

Even as you were sick and perhaps never to recover, I couldn't give you what you wanted. I wanted you to keep the dream girl you had imagined rather than getting the imperfect girl you thought was her. What's more, as much as I enjoyed your friendship, I was not interested in anything more. I tried to feel something more, I truly did. I felt you deserved it. But, some things just aren't meant to be. After that, our interactions were limited. We were certainly friends, but you never asked for anything more again.

I remember the summer day when someone came for me at church and told me you were very sick. You'd asked to see me. So I went to your house and sat by your bed. I watched the leaves in the trees outside your window and we talked about death. You were so at peace. It's hard to know what to say at such a time. I wanted to give you comfort, so I held your hand and did my best. You got better for a while, but we all knew the end was coming. Part of me wished then that I'd played the part of devoted girlfriend for a few months. But I'm not a good liar, and you deserved the truth. You deserve someone who loves you the way you loved me. That person just wasn't me.

As the summer wore on I prepared for law school and you prepared for other things. My life was just beginning and yours was at its end. I understand that so much more now than I did then. I visited you several times, including the day I moved away. You couldn't talk anymore, but I sat by your bed and held your hand. After my plane landed in Virginia, I learned that you had died. We both started our new lives the same day.

I'm so sorry I couldn't love you, at least not in the way you wanted. But I am grateful for your affection. As I met and fell in love with my husband, I often thought of you. He reminded me of you in several very good ways. Because of knowing you, I was better able to love him. And, in part because of you, I even managed to believe it when he said he was in love with me.

Tom, I never have anything but warm thoughts of you. I sometimes wish we could talk, so I could tell you how grateful I am for having known you. I hope you're happy, wherever you are. I know you must miss your son. And I hope you don't miss me. You've already had your fair share of sadness.

With warmest regard,
Melanie

Why So Many Midwesterners Winter in Arizona: A Photographic Essay

2011-02-09T20:01:00.000-06:00

*This picture was taken before last week's blizzard. This bike is now buried up to the handlebars.

Grab Bag

2011-02-09T19:54:00.000-06:00

1- I love Rachmaninoff. Hearing Variations on a Theme of Paganini makes my life better every time. No really, every time. Once I saw it performed live from the best seat in the house. I savored every note. I love Rachmaninoff.

2- I will soon return to my 50 days (or, in this case, many more) of me. I am now "officially" done with my appendectomy recovery, my infected incision has healed, and most of the effects of the allergic reaction to the antibiotics have faded.

This photo doesn't do it justice. And honestly, the rash wasn't even close to the worst part. Anyway, I've got the next entry in progress. It's coming, really.

3- Virginia is branching out on her favorite activity. New locations...

...and new reading material.

4 - A photo for Geoff: The slavery has begun.

(May she always be this excited about washing the dishes.)

Lazy Morning

2011-01-28T13:00:00.002-06:00

Scout and I were having one of those mornings where we didn't feel like accomplishing much. So we didn't. It was the kind of morning where you decide to take off your footie pajamas then run around in a onesie for a while, just because Mommy is letting you.

After a while, we decided the day looked promisingly warm (relatively speaking anyway), so we got all bundled up and went outside.

As you can see, I got camera happy before we ever even made it outside. The puffy little pants are just so adorable.

Then, we came inside and Scout once again decided that pants are not for her. So, she took them off. You've really got to maximize on these opportunities for exhibitionism. Good thing for her that I'm a sucker for toddlers running around with bare little legs. I think they're adorable.

Scout was feeling quite natural in front of the camera today, so I was able to get a lot of expressions that are what we typically see, including (of course) the ones where she's obviously mid-sentence. I think my favorites are the top left and top center.

So we took some pictures, played with the sheep (which normally lives in the crib, so a good day for special privileges), danced to some music, ate graham crackers, put the pants back on and went down for an early nap.

A good morning.

Day 34: Your Favorite Quote

2011-01-27T19:34:00.001-06:00

"Oh, the comfort -- the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person -- having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away."

Dinah Maria Craik

Day 33: What You're Craving Right Now

2011-01-26T22:36:00.002-06:00

Day 32: A Photo You Took

2011-01-25T22:08:00.000-06:00

I took this one at the Bolz Conservatory last week. It was really nice to get in some green.

Day 31: Whatever Tickles Your Fancy

2011-01-24T20:41:00.002-06:00

This last week a long-anticipated but much dreaded event occurred. One of my absolute favorite blogs in the world has come to an end. If you haven't read it yet, you really should. Start from the beginning. In tribute to this pseudo-icon of Mormon culture I must simply say:

Dear TAMN,
I loved you. I loved to hate you. I laughed with you, but mostly at you. Some days, I swear I met you. Many days, I deliberately chose not to be you, if only to preserve self-respect. And every once in a while, if only for a few minutes, I most definitely was you. Thanks for all the laughs, for enriching our cultural dialogue and for making us all a little more self-aware.

Cheers,
Me

Day 30: The Friendliest Person You Knew for Only One Day

2011-01-23T15:09:00.004-06:00

I've tried really hard to think of someone who fits this description. And I can't. I suppose there's no one I've known such a short time who has left much of an impression. So instead, I'm going to share (yet another*) mission story about someone I really didn't know at all. He wasn't exactly friendly, but he was helpful and I was definitely grateful he was there. Mom, you probably shouldn't read this story.

First a little background. As I've mentioned before, my last companion was quite beautiful and not so great at Italian. She was brand new, so I'm sure things improved after I left. Because she was at the beginning of her mission and I was at the end of mine, she was a bit naive and I was a bit cynical. Plus, I've got that aforementioned mean streak that makes shutting people down come so naturally. So when the creepy men came along, as they did almost every day, I was in charge of telling them where to go and how to get there.

As missionaries in Verona, we rode the bus everywhere. One night, we finished an appointment just after nine and headed to the nearby piazza where a bus would shortly come to take us home. There was a major bus interchange near our apartment, from which we could walk home in a few minutes. The piazza was quite dark and there was a young man waiting near the stop. He kept his distance from us and avoided eye contact, so we didn't talk to him. My lovely companion had picked up a rather persistent admirer at the same stop a few weeks earlier, so I was a little wary of men traveling by themselves at night. So there we were, my companion trying to decode the bus schedule, me waiting on the sidewalk a few yards away to be sure we flagged down any bus that might pass, and the other guy, waiting and keeping his distance.

After a few minutes, another man approached from across the street. He was Romanian and rather drunk. Likely due to his inebriation, he didn't even notice my beautiful companion and came straight up to me. He started mumbling and pointing telling me something about a drink. Eventually, the mumbling developed into, "There's a drink in that bar over there." Of course he wanted me to come get a drink with him. I ignored him and prayed that my beautiful companion would stay put. He was quite insistent about the drink and the bar, so I finally told him to go back into the bar and get himself the drink. About the time my companion walked over to see whether I was speaking with a potential contact, the other man at the bus stop turned and looked our way. Upon catching sight of my lovely companion, my new drunk friend was really interested and became even more adamant about the drink in the bar. Sadly, I had to inform him that she didn't speak Italian (especially not slurred Italian with a thick Romanian accent), so he'd have to keep conversing with me.

As his insistence escalated, a bus appeared out of the night and I politely informed him that we needed to get on it. He boarded as well, as did the other man. Near the middle of the bus, there were two single seats open, one behind the other. We sat in them and I turned sideways so I could keep an eye on my companion behind me. The young man from the bus stop took a seat near the back. The drunk man stood next to us, still trying to somehow charm us with his inebriation. I tried ignoring him again. He pulled out his cell phone and told me he wanted our number. As he got louder and louder and closer and closer to my face, I noticed the man from the bus stop watching our one-sided conversation very closely.

It's interesting to note that, while the bus wasn't crowded, the seats were all full. But no one said anything, most people just staring mutely into their laps or out the window into the night. The one exception was the man from the bus stop, who continued to watch intently.

At this point, I started wondering how best to get out of the situation. We had only encountered such persistence once before, and that was with a smooth, sober man in a crowded piazza in the middle of the day. Late at night on a bus was less ideal for warding off would-be wooers, especially drunk ones. I considered the options. The bus line does end, eventually. Once we'd been through every stop, in theory he would have to get off. However, that would potentially leave us far from home in a remote neighborhood alone with a bus driver and this burly drunk Romanian. Although we could stay on the bus, it would sit at the last stop for five or ten minutes, the driver would get out to smoke, and we would be stuck. Even assuming he did eventually leave, we would have to ride the circuit all the way back home, putting us out way past curfew.

Alternatively, we could follow our original plan, getting off at our stop and heading for home. Maybe he would give up when we exited. However, men had followed us off the bus in the past. That's just fine in midday, but even major bus stops are frequently deserted at night. While not great, this option was the most likely to get us home on time. So, I decided to take it. As we approached our stop, my companion and I stood up to leave. The Romanian announced that he too was getting off here. Fortunately, the young man who had been watching us intently moved toward the exit at the back of the bus. At least we would have a potential ally once we got off.

Then, as the bus pulled to a stop, the solution came to me. Thanking heaven that we both spoke English, if not Italian, I instructed my companion to stay on the bus. The doors opened and I beckoned for our friend to get off. "This is your stop, right?" I asked. What could he do? He was too drunk to come up with a good excuse, so he had to get off. Once he did, I saw the young man from the back of the bus walk over toward him, looking around for us. As the doors closed, he saw that we had stayed on the bus, our eyes met and I hope he understood that we were grateful for his help. He nodded to me, acknowledging that we were safe, and the bus pulled away.

My companion and I exited at the next stop, half a block away. Thanks to those wonderful Roman city walls, there was no way our ardent admirer could see us. We went home a different way, home not more than two minutes later than we might otherwise have been.

Having a brand new companion is, in many ways, like being a mother. I think I felt most like a mom when trying to help protect her from creepy men. I was happy to help, but it's kind of lonely when you're the only one who knows where you're going or how to communicate with people. I was grateful, that night, for someone else in the world who was worried for our welfare. As President Kimball said, "God does watch over us and does notice us, but it usually through someone else that he meets our needs." No angels necessary when a concerned Italian will do.

*Sorry about all the mission stories. I guess that's when everything interesting happened to me. More likely, it's just a very condensed period of meeting new people and having new experiences. So there are lots of stories to tell. And I want these recorded somewhere for when I've forgotten them. Truly, this is a selfish pursuit.

Day 29: Favorite Color

2011-01-17T20:01:00.002-06:00

I have issues with this one. I've almost always had issues with this one. Why this obsession with favorites? Why must I rank the colors? Can't I choose a favorite a color scheme instead? Must I choose just one? I don't agree with telling our children they should have a favorite color, a best friend, a favorite food. Variety is good and enjoying one thing does not have to come at the detriment of another!

On top of my aversion to playing favorites generally, I think too much can be read into a favorite color. Or, at least, I thought so when I was little. Red? So cliche. Pink? Even more cliche. Blue? That's a boy color! Brown? Boring. Black? What is wrong with you? The options were so limited. Moreover, it really depends on what you're going to do with the color. The colors I want to wear, eat and look at are all quite different. I like red accessories, black clothes, green grass, brown fabric, white milk, purple carpet, yellow flowers, and orange vegetables.

I once tutored a little boy who told me his favorite color was white. Then you can color it whatever color you like. Perhaps I should stick with his answer.

Day 28: Favorite Places to Shop

2011-01-16T20:45:00.000-06:00

bookstores
anywhere that sells housewares

Day 27: A Talent of Yours

2011-01-15T20:26:00.003-06:00

I love to cook. It supports my eating habit nicely. In particular, I love to bake. I'm really developing the non-baking aspect of cooking these days though, since baking tends inevitably to lead to carbohydrate overload. Over the past two years, I have even begun straying from the recipes and doing a little experimentation. Don't get too excited, "experimentation" here means "substituting whole wheat flour for white," "not measuring the amount of fresh basil I add to the pasta" and "not adding quite as much butter as the recipe calls for." It's nothing too brave or innovative. But I did downright invent some combinations over the summer when we had vegetables coming out our ears. And they were delicious, if I do say so myself.

My cooking habit has recently received a major boost. This is primarily due to the fact that James's eating habit also gains most of its support from my love of cooking. As part of a fabulous surprise birthday party, which I should probably blog about later once I've collected pictures from those who had cameras, James and many others fulfilled a longtime dream of my baking heart.

I now have one of these sitting on my coffee table:

I'm not exactly sure where I'm going to put it yet. It is, after all, a full 16 inches tall. But I'll find it a home, even if I have to oust the microwave. For the time being, however, I'm very happy keeping it where it is. Sometimes I just like to look up at it and admire its shiny redness. It makes me smile every time because (1) my husband knew just what I wanted, (2) he surprised me with it, (3) I don't have to knead anymore, and (4) it's so pretty!

Day 26: Favorite Books

2011-01-14T11:25:00.002-06:00

The Little House on the Prairie series by Laura Ingalls Wilder (especially These Happy Golden Years)
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty White
The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
The Little House by Virginia Lee Burton
But Not the Hippopotamus by Sandra Boynton
The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis
Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
The Lorax by Dr. Suess
Persuasion by Jane Austen

Day 25: Someone You Judged by Their First Impression

2011-01-13T22:57:00.003-06:00

I'm going to assume the prompt means to ask for someone I misjudged. And who's to say that I'm wrong? While that could describe the vast majority of people I've met, including many many of my closest friends, I'll share just one.

The first thing I remember noticing about Sorella Bellows was her running. And running. And running. And running. At the MTC we had gym time for something like 45 minutes every day. Because we spent an average of 10 hours per day sitting in a classroom, gym time was essential to our sanity. My district, and most of our branch, played volleyball whenever we could get a court. Otherwise, we sat around and watched the Elders play soccer. (It was summer, so we desperately wanted to be outside. But we didn't really want to play contact sports with 19 year-old boys--yes, Elders, you may have thought some of the sisters were hot, but we mostly just thought you were...in need of some time to grow up.) Anyway, this one sister, who was also going to Italy, would always run around the soccer fields. For the entire hour.

My companion and I decided to run once. We made it around the field approximately one time. And while we were running that one lap, she passed us. It wouldn't really surprise me if she passed us twice. I asked her how many laps she had run. She just laughed and said, "I try not to count." Don't you just hate those people? I mean, I like to exercise (although I may not have loved it nearly as much then), but people who just run and don't even want to know how far they've gone? There must be something wrong with these people. So, basically all I knew about Sorella Bellows was that she ran a LOT. And once I got to Italy, she would be in my mission. I think we may have had some limited interaction during class break, but it didn't help my impression. She was sweet. Really sweet. A little too sweet, you know? And just really nice. Always smiling and so...sweet.

Now, I can be a nice person, compassionate even. But if I had to boil my entire personality down to one word, that word would be sardonic. (Here, I've looked that one up for you: sardonic--adj.--characterized by bitter or scornful derision; mocking; cynical; sneering.) In other words, I wasn't too excited about Sorella Bellows. And I didn't believe she was really all that nice.

Fast forward ten months. My mission, we find, is just past half over. Am I doing a good job? I'm not sure. Since arriving in Italy, I've been in three cities. The most recent of those is Brescia, referred to by some as the armpit of the mission. My companion is about to go home, meaning I will receive my sixth companion in as many transfers. That's a lot of change, particularly for someone like me who takes a long time to get to know people. I've had some ups and downs with these six companions. Some were great, some barely spoke to me. I hadn't gotten a letter from home in a month. We weren't having much success with teaching. I was pretty worn down. I definitely wanted to be there, but I was unsure whether I was doing any good.

And then came the transfer call, telling me who would be my next companion: Sorella Bellows. I'd had several ideal companions picked out. She wasn't one of them. I just knew I would be miserable. We would have nothing in common and it would be another miserable companionship. After all, my meanest companion had spent our six weeks together telling me all about how wonderful Sorella Bellows (who'd been there just before me) was. I was a miserable replacement. And now, Sorella Bellows was coming with all her sweet superiority to make me even more wretched. God was certainly punishing me for my sardonic ways.

To make matter worse, between the transfer call and the dreaded arrival, I received an unwelcome email from home. My brother, who had promised at Mother's Day that he would NOT be getting married before I came home was engaged. I actually burst out crying in the middle of the internet cafe. The Elders were very concerned. I was upset enough to think about going home. I grudgingly taught a lesson on faith that evening, having none but desiring to believe anyway.

And then she came. I spent the entire bus ride home apologizing. I can only remember one of the reasons. Amidst packing for home, my companion and I hadn't had time to clean. Sorella Bellows insisted that she wanted to help me clean the apartment. And she meant it. She told me to stop apologizing. And she meant it. And so I did. I found that she was nice, and kind, and sweet really, but not in the way that I'd thought. Best of all, she didn't particularly enjoy the mean companion either. Within three days, we would kneel down for companionship prayers and decide an hour later that if we were going to talk instead of praying, we should at least give our knees a break and sit on the bed until we were actually ready to pray.

We found people to teach. But even when interested people were scarce, we still had a wonderful time looking for more. We rode our bikes all over Brescia, discovering beautiful scenes and wonderful people. We even went running, early in the morning when the streets are quiet and smell like fresh bread.

As our transfer together neared its end, I begged the mission president to let me stay in Brescia just six more weeks. So he did. He even let us go to the opera in Verona together. Sorella Bellows was completely willing to get behind my dream of seeing the opera and understanding it.

I think it was from her that I truly learned about charity and what it means. I learned volumes about compassion. I learned what it is to love someone with no reservations, no guile and no fear, just pure love.

There was a heat wave the summer we were companions, with temperatures over 104 degrees (we got very tan). I guess it should have been miserable with just one fan between us. But we biked around, sweated a LOT and had a wonderful time. I'm not a summer person, but I think I'll always consider that the best summer of my life. Even now, whenever I run I think of Sorella Bellows, and I think part of the reason I enjoy running is because of how much I love her. It reminds me of her, and brings me peace.

December is a Long, Dark Month

2010-12-30T10:55:00.003-06:00

I feel it appropriate to note that I am sorry for my recent absence from the blogosphere (Is that really a word? Spell Check doesn't seem to think so), and I do intend to return to blogging in the near future. This December has been an exceptionally hectic month, above and beyond the usual Holiday frenzy. It has been filled with shopping, packing, traveling and a whole lot of illness (colds, stomach flu and most recently appendicitis). So, fear not! As soon as I return to mere over-the-counter pain meds and am awake more than I'm asleep in any given 24-hour period, I shall return to my regular inconsistent bouts of blogging.

Day 24: Time to Face Morph

2010-12-07T06:36:00.001-06:00

We don't have a Mac. I wish we did. But, apparently you need a Mac to Face Morph (or at least that's what I hear; I'm not really certain I know what it is). I Googled Face Morph, and got a whole lot of sites for using your photo to see what your children will look like. Most paired me with a celebrity, some allowed me to upload James's photo as well. We opted to use a blend likely to happen in this lifetime (that is, James and me) and see how it compares to our real life genetic meld. The result was so like a brunette version of JonBenet Ramsey that I was rather disturbed and deleted it.

So, here it is, folks. You take James and me, put us together, and this (for better or worse) is your outcome:

Knows how to distinguish high from low.

Does not know how to distinguish her own clothes from those of others.Can get her leg into the pants on her own. Now if only she could get the leg into the correct side of the pants....

Maybe not the absolute top of the genetic pile, but we'll keep her!

Day 23: Share One of You Favorite Tunes

2010-12-06T12:18:00.002-06:00

There are SO many to choose from. This category is possibly worse than the movies. Here are a few:
Ingrid Michaelson - You and I
Alannis Morissette - That I Would Be Good
Mormon Tabernacle Choir - Homeward Bound (the long story of why I love this song is below) and Take Time to Be Holy
The Beatles - Life Goes On
Billy Joel - almost anything
Rachmaninoff - almost anything but especially Variations on a Theme of Paganini (here's one of them, 18 is the most well known) and his second Piano Concerto
Verdi - Nessun Dorma

Shortly after we moved to Madison, I got to feeling homesick. So, as was my daily custom at the time, I decided to call my mom, who answered her phone (miracle of miracles) and she told me she was listening to my song. I didn’t know I had a song. She played part of it for me, but I’d never heard it before. Then she read me the words of the chorus and said it describes me. She doesn’t even know what it’s called because she just calls it “Melanie’s Song.” Of course, I had to look it up and read the lyrics. Then I cried. Then I downloaded it. And I still cry every time I hear it. It really does fit me. These are the words:

In the quiet misty morning when the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing and the sky is clear and red.
When the summer’s ceased its gleaming,
When the corn is past its prime,
When adventure’s lost its meaning,
I’ll be homeward bound in time.

Bind me not to the pasture, chain me not to the plow.
Set me free to find my calling and I’ll return to you somehow.

If you find it’s me you're missing, if you’re hoping I’ll return.
To your thoughts I’ll soon be list’ning, and in the road I’ll stop and turn.
Then the wind will set me racing as my journey nears its end.
And the path I’ll be retracing when I’m homeward bound again.

Bind me not to the pasture, chain me not to the plow.
Set me free to find my calling and I’ll return to you somehow.

In the quiet misty morning when the moon has gone to bed,
When the sparrows stop their singing,
I’ll be homeward bound again.

I guess I’ve always had to go off on my own way and find out what it was I needed to do. I’ve always been independent, known where I was, and been determined to get wherever I was going. My mom loves to tell stories of me being lost as a small child. Whenever she would find me, she would tell me how worried she had been. And I would always reply, “don’t worry Mom, I wasn’t lost! I knew where I was.” Little comfort for a mother, but it made perfect sense to my little mind. I was only lost if I didn’t know how to get back where I came from or how to get where I was going. I was a little quick to lose sight of other people’s interest in where I might be.

And now I’ve wandered away again. But I still only feel lost when I lose sight of where I came from or where I’m going. I was excited to move away to college, two hours from home. Mom told me that when she dropped me off for my first week of college, she cried as I walked away from the car. I was just excited about what lay ahead. I did cry when I came home for my first visit a mere ten days later.

My emotions were similar when I left on my mission to Italy. It seemed like everyone at the MTC was crying, except me. I was just excited to finally be leaving on my mission and beginning my great adventure. After a few weeks within the confines of the MTC, it finally set in that I wasn’t going to see my family for eighteen months. And then I really missed them. I think perhaps I couldn’t leave them if I didn’t look ahead to what I was gaining. But I do always have to leave. There’s just something about me that always has to go and do. I tried to explain it to my mom once. It wasn’t that I wanted to leave my family or my home, I just had to go and see the world. I wasn’t trying to get away from anything, but I had to go.

I came home for a while after my mission, but that was hard on both me and my parents. When I left again, it was to Virginia. Somehow I had no fear, even though I’d never been there and did not know a soul. I still can’t believe I did it, but I had to go. As my parents drove me to the airport, my mom said again how sad she was that I was leaving. She said she thought I’d never be back. And I guess I never will, at least not to stay. But I never thought much about what I was leaving behind, only what I was gaining. And however many times I fly home for a visit and leave again, it’s always hard to go. But I just know that I have to go.

I love to be home. One of my favorite things in the world is Sunday dinner with my family, where we all just sit around the table and talk long after we’ve finished eating. I love to be with my family and in a familiar comfortable place. Nothing will ever be home in quite the way my mom and dad’s house is. And as much as I always leave, I will just as surely always come back. I depend upon that home being there for me, however far I may wander.

And my mom probably doesn’t realize that she is one of the ways I get my bearings. I’ll call her for a pep talk, or just a regular talk. I can remember several bad days when I’ve called her and just cried on the phone. She has no idea at all, but I just sit there and cry and listen to her tell me about whatever. I just need to hear her voice and have a piece of home.

This last move, to Madison, was the hardest ever. For the first time I had no reason to go, and I really didn’t want to. But, for very different reasons, I knew I had to go. This time the ties of my husband were pulling me away. So I got in the car and drove away. But for the first year I called home nearly every day, and I depended on my next visit coming. I longed to be there more than I can express. And I still often long to be nearer my family, even though I have found a wonderful home here. In some strange way, even though I'm always leaving, I'm simultaneously longing for home.

I depend upon my visits home, and upon my cell phone to keep me connected. And I still talk about living near family, because I can’t let go of the possibility yet. It’s hard to admit that I will probably never live close to my family again, to accept that reality that my mother articulated years ago. Now that I have a daugther, I’m even more sad that I will be so far from my family. I don’t know why I feel such a need to go off crusading around the world (as my mom calls it), but I do. I have to pursue the adventures that, I hope, will make my family proud and allow me to improve the world. But just as surely, I have to check in and go home as often as possible. I need my crusades, but not any more than I need my home.

Day 22: A Photo That Makes You Happy

2010-12-05T12:26:00.001-06:00

Day 21: Your Favorite Television Program

2010-12-04T19:45:00.002-06:00

Law & Order

I'm a person of limited interests. I don't actually like SVU much, just the original, but I still think this is hilarious, so I'll share.

Day 20: A Letter to Someone Who Has Changed Your Life

2010-12-01T12:39:00.002-06:00

Dear Sir,

When I was a missionary in Verona, you happened into my life. It was pure chance, really. My beautiful companion, who really couldn't speak much Italian but smiled at everyone, met you on a bus. This was not uncommon. She seemed to have conversations with men of questionable intentions several times a day. I was continually explaining to men that we were essentially nuns, that she and I were always together and that if they tried to call her, I would inevitably answer the phone. But you were different. She told me you wanted to talk with us, and you really did. So we got off the bus at Porto Vescovo, we sat on a bench, and we talked.

We told you about God and how much he loves each of us. You told us about coming to Italy from Romania seeking a better life. You had come to Verona with a woman, but she recently took everything you owned, kicked you out and called you some not very nice things. So there you were, stuck in Verona without a friend in the city or a dime in your pocket. Our usual work was to see to the spiritual welfare of the people we met. We dealt very little in temporal needs. But without food or shelter, it's hard to worry about spiritual things. It's hard to do much of anything besides worry about surviving tomorrow. What you needed at that time was not God, though you found it interesting enough. You needed a job. None were available; this we had heard from everyone. I think you also needed someone to listen and someone to be sympathetic. You needed someone to understand that your circumstances were not entirely of your creation. And so we listened.

As we spoke, you told us of your brother in Torino, several hours away. He had a job for you, but you would have to get to Torino that week. You had a whole new life waiting, if only you could get there. And so, in the end, you asked us for train fare. It wasn't a whole lot, but it was enough that we didn't have the money on us. We explained that we're not allowed to give people money, though we would like to help. We offered to teach you more about God in the meantime, and you said you'd be happy to hear. But it was clear that what you really needed was the 23 Euros to get you to Torino. We exchanged phone numbers and parted ways. And I kept thinking.

I thought about your life and your story. I thought about Jesus and his life and his counsel. And I hoped and prayed that 23 Euros would never be the difference between hopelessness and a new life for me. I also prayed that you would somehow get the money. Unfortunately, everyone you knew was as poor as you and could barely buy food, let along loan someone 23 Euros.

Near our apartment there was a monastery where Franciscan Monks served breakfast to those in need every morning. At night the monks would lay out mattresses in front of their gates and we always passed men sleeping there, often smelling strongly of boxed wine and the need for a shower. But they had nowhere to go and no way to keep warm. As the crowd was gathering for breakfast the next morning, I looked out my window and thought I saw you in the line. I picked up our phone, watched you answer and asked you to meet us at the train station at three that afternoon. I could not bring myself to be the reason your hope slipped away. I felt it would not have been consistent with the name on my tag.

When we met at the station, I used my personal money for a ticket to Torino. All you had in the world was slung over your shoulder in a duffel bag. I doubt it took you fifteen minutes to gather your possessions and you were ready to go right then. We shook hands and you insisted that you would find a way to pay me back. I pointed to my tag and said you could always find a church with that name, and pay back whoever you found there. More than restitution, however, I hoped that someday, when your temporal needs were less, you would find that church and, knowing that those inside it were good people, be able to see to your spiritual poverty as well. I still think about you and hope that your life has changed for good.

While I can't remember your name anymore, I often think of you, particularly when I see men whose lives have not been what they hoped. I remember how much you needed someone to listen, someone to understand a little, and someone to give a little help to make such a great difference for you. More than a benefactor, you needed a friend. I hope I was and will continue to be that friend.

With regard,
Melanie

Day 19: Whatever Tickles Your Fancy

2010-11-30T22:33:00.005-06:00

As our annual holiday travel approaches, I've been pondering a question of Constitutional import. The Fourth Amendment guarantees freedom from unreasonable search. There is a lot on the news lately about airport body scanners and rather invasive pat-downs if the body scan is refused. On the one hand, I'm not sure I mind the body scanner all that much. I don't like to fly, but I really don't want to plummet to the ground. On the other hand, the alternative search doesn't sound too nice. More importantly, at what point am I going to have to submit to a full cavity search before I can get on an airplane? As someone who doesn't love flying anyway, I may just opt to drive at that point. So here's what I'm wondering: Is this a reasonable search?

I wouldn't just let the police do such a search. They would need a good reason. Is the fact that I want to fly a good enough reason? Maybe so. Of course I'd be subjected to much worse if I were arrested, but is getting on a plane suspicious enough activity to be treated like a criminal? Perhaps it would help me to know that several would-be terrorists have been caught or deterred by the scans. Instead, it seems like terrorists just keep devising ways around our security innovations. Perhaps it's time to say we'll do our best but we just don't want to give up any more civil liberties? How much must we give up in order to obtain peace of mind?

I'm not sure. I think I still don't find the body scan all that unreasonable. And, from what I've heard, I'm willing to do quite a lot to avoid the pat down.

New Uses for Old Items

2010-11-30T22:20:00.003-06:00

A storage ottoman becomes a great hiding place.
A colander makes a great hat.
Mom's purse becomes a favorite toy.
What would have been a duck costume had Scout not grown so much before Halloween becomes a two-headed monster.
She was still pretty cute, even if she was too tall to put on the duck head.

Day 18: Set or Share a Goal

2010-11-28T09:37:00.002-06:00

...or three.

1. A goal I just accomplished: goodbye law school weight (been working on this one since Memorial Day, finally dumped the last 1.5 lbs last week--before Thanksgiving, we're not going to talk about after)

2. Short term goal: finish my cross stitch by Wednesday (this shouldn't actually count as short term, since I've been working on it for a decade, but I'm REALLY close)

3. Longer term goal: finish reading the Book of Mormon by the end of the year (just under four chapters a day--maybe I'll go read now)

Day 17: A Photo That Makes You Sad

2010-11-26T20:21:00.004-06:00

Day 16: Provide Pictures of Five Celebrity Crushes

2010-11-25T05:16:00.002-06:00

I'm having trouble coming up with five. So, we'll go with five former celebrity crushes. Yes, some of these are ridiculous, but still true.

I once watched Strictly Ballroom ten times in the span of a week. Nope, not exaggerating. I think I have the how memorized.
As Legolas. And only as Legolas. Okay, maybe a little bit in Pirates of the Caribbean, but once he paraded out in that ridiculous hat at the end, it was all over.
Yep, I joined the craze. Then I saw him in The Man in the Iron Mask. And the craze ended.Two words: Will Scarlet
Took all of my friends to see Never Been Kissed. Rented every movie he was ever in (and he wasn't the star, let me tell you what). I really liked him.

Honorable Mention: Hugh Jackman, Val Kilmer, Bill Pullman (saw While You Were Sleeping in the theatre six times), Tom Cruise (back before he was crazy, and mostly because my husband looks like him so it seems he should get a mention) and Patrick Stewart

Day 15: A Letter to Someone You Would Like to Meet

2010-11-24T18:10:00.003-06:00

Dear Justice Thurgood Marshall:
You are one of my heroes. I admire what you accomplished, but I also admire that you worked so hard to accomplish it and that you kept trying, despite failure. For me, it is as important that you represented young, penniless men accused of heinous crimes because of their skin color, and lost, as it is that you argued Brown v. Board of Education and won. I would ask about those days when you lost. How did you continue? What did you learn? What would you change?

I would ask about your life on the Supreme Court. What was it like to be the first? What great weight of responsibility you must have felt. Did you feel triumph at the changes you were able to effect or tragedy at those that remained the same despite their injustice? How did you feel the day you dissented to Wilbert Evans' sentence of death through a denied writ? Every time a death penalty case came before the Court, whether the Court agreed to hear it or not, you dissented, never giving up hope nor surrendering your position. Do you think it will ever be abolished? I suppose that has no bearing on your position. Popular or not, you held to your ideals.

Once I met a lawyer named Joseph McCarthy (no, not that Joseph McCarthy) who defended indigent criminals. He talked of the tragedy of being caught up in the system at all. Once someone needs a defense lawyer, guilty or not, we've all lost and there is no winning for anyone. He had such dignity and poise defending a client who wanted him fired. I was fascinated to learn that earlier in life he had helped prosecute wrongful convictions. Perhaps that is why he seemed tired and sad, though still eloquent, determined and dedicated to his work. Our brief encounter changed my approach to my profession. I imagine speaking with you would be equally illuminating and life altering.

Today I decided to read your biography. I'm not really a reader of biographies, but I think yours will be worth it. It will not, I expect, replace the conversation I would like to have, but it will have to do.

Best regards,
Melanie McKay, Esq.

Day 14: A Song From Your Childhood

2010-11-23T19:51:00.003-06:00

I've been trying to come up with one for days. It's not much, but here's what I remember:
The Candyman Can - I think this one stuck with me because I did NOT understand it.
Catch a Wave (Beach Boys) - Really, the whole album. We loved Surfin' Safari too.
Copa Cabana (Barry Manilow) - We loved this record so much it was shattered one day in a small altercation between me and one of my siblings.
I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of My Hair (South Pacific) - I always pictured a little man running around on this woman's scalp. The idiomatic meaning was completely lost on my young mind.

Thoughts on Parenting: Be Careful What You Wish For

2010-11-21T19:18:00.002-06:00

Things I never thought I'd hear myself say as a parent:
"I'm glad she likes books, but I wish she would play with her toys more."
"Aren't you tired of reading?"

I just put Virginia to bed. She took Goodnight Moon to bed with her. I'm pretty sure she's still in there turning the pages, even though there's only a night light to see by. It's doesn't much matter; we've read it so many times that she probably has the pictures memorized anyway. I know it's common for kids to stay up late reading in bed. I just didn't think it would begin at eighteen months.

Day 13: A Better Portrait

2010-11-20T20:12:00.000-06:00

Day 12: Self-Portrait

2010-11-20T20:03:00.000-06:00

Day 11: Share Your Favorite Recipe(s)

2010-11-18T18:59:00.002-06:00

I have a lot of favorite recipes. Some of my current favorite sources for them are:
The Best 30-Minute Recipe Books (by America's Test Kitchen)
The America's Test Kitchen Family Baking Book
The New American Plate by the American Institute for Cancer Research
The Garden Fresh Vegetable Cookbook by Andrea Chesman

And just because I feel like I ought to include at least one recipe, here's something I've been loving lately. You may not be familiar with kohlrabi, but you should become familiar. It's wonderful stuff, especially braised. And it's good for you. And once you have the skin off, it's pretty easy to make. So, when you go looking for it at the grocery store, this is what you want to find:
Braised Kohlrabi
from The New American Plate Cookbook
serves 4

1 tsp olive oil
1 1/2 lbs kohlrabi, peeled and cut into 1/4 in. strips
1 1/2 cups fat-free, reduced sodium chicken or vegetable broth
Fresh ground black pepper
Freshly squeezed lemon juice (optional)

In a medium nonstick skillet, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the kohlrabi and saute for 5 minutes to coat with oil and begin the cooking process. Add the broth, bring to a boil, cover, and reduce heat to low. Cook for 15 to 20 minutes, until the kohlrabi is tender. The cover may be removed during the last 5 minutes. Season to taste with pepper. Sprinkle with a few drops of fresh lemon juice, if desired. Drain off the broth and serve.

Day 10: A Letter to Someone Who Hurt You

2010-11-16T18:48:00.002-06:00

Dear Hollywood,

I'm just going to come out and say it. You ruined me! Okay, maybe not ruined exactly. But you sure did hurt my chances at a regular old romance. Your portrayal of love, romance and dating, well, it just doesn't match reality. Not much at all. And, you see, I spent a lot of my young life watching your romantic comedies, reading your books (okay, maybe that wasn't you exactly, Holly, but it was certainly a relative of yours). And from this media, I got a completely skewed idea of what I ought to be looking for and how this dating thing happens in real life.

It took me a lot of years to get things figured out, with no help from you. Because you never told me the truth. You never told me that, in actuality, he probably WAS that into me, but media had so corrupted my idea of love that I was never able to recognize his feelings, my feelings, or what may actually have been (but fortunately wasn't) the best opportunity I was going to get in this lifetime. Here are just a few of the lies you told me instead:

Lie #1- If you take long walks in beautiful places, the man you love is sure to come along and kiss you (see Pride & Prejudice, the Keira Knightly Version).

Reality: I took a lot of long, lonely walks in some lovely places. Not once did I encounter the love of my life, or even my current crush. If I didn't invite him along, he never showed up. Not even once. And I took a lot of long walks.

Lie #2- Men are inescapably attracted to intelligent women (see Pride & Prejudice, any version, and Ever After).

Reality: Men are almost inescapably intimidated by intelligent women.

Lie #3 - Pursuing famous or semi-famous perfect strangers is a great idea; he's likely to pick yours out of the pile and be your soul mate (see Sleepless in Seattle, Under the Tuscan Sun and Win a Date With Tad Hamilton).

Reality: Whether the celebrity you adore is married or unmarried has almost no bearing on the likelihood that he will ever date and/or marry you. He won't. Unless you're Katie Holmes. You're not (and that's a good thing).

Lie #4: Repeatedly insulting and rejecting men makes them ever more in love with you. You can reject them a lot of times, and they will keep coming back, waiting for your love (see Hitch, I Hate Valentine's Day and Anne of Green Gables--the movie, I haven't made it through the books, so I can't really say).

Reality: I had a roommate who adored these books and lived by this credo. She was very single. Guys would actually leave when she came into the room just to avoid the hostility.

Lie #5: If a guy likes you, he will do absolutely all the work. You need never encourage him, reciprocate or even realize what he is doing. It's okay inadvertently to be a little rude sometimes. He'll still drive fifty miles in a blizzard for you (see Little House on the Prairie).

Reality: You have to encourage them. A lot. I've read the book about twenty times (literally). It's a great story. But I really do think it ruined my approach to dating and relationships for at least several years. It's not the 1800's anymore. So I'll say it again, you have to encourage them.

Lie #6 Your boyfriend/husband should be able to read your mind, not because it's his superpower but because he can just intuit what you're thinking and what you want (see Twilight).

Reality: Men actually do want to be able to do this. They can't. If you don't tell them what you want, you're very unlikely to get it. If you don't tell them why you're mad, or that you're mad, they won't know. If you don't ask him to take out the trash, it's probably not going to happen.

Lie #7 All males are attracted to clumsy, complaining girls with no personality, no self-confidence and no interests whatsoever especially if they're new in town. The more clumsy and insecure the girl is, the more amazing the guy who will seek her out (see Twilight, The Wedding Date and My Big Fat Greek Wedding).

Reality: If there's nothing interesting about you, people probably won't find you very interesting. And, consequently, guys won't be interested in dating you. Even more importantly, the single most consistent quality that guys find attractive: confidence. It's true, from the mouth of an unquestionably hot male friend.

Lie #8: If the person you're in love with was ever in love with someone who died, they're probably still actually in love with that person and you're just a stand-in (see A Walk to Remember, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Titanic and probably a lot of other movies that aren't coming to mind right now).

Reality: Wouldn't that be sad?

Lie #9: If you have a random crush on some hot guy and never ever even talk to him, he and his even hotter brother are likely to propose to you (see While You Were Sleeping and Win a Date With Tad Hamilton).

Reality: If you never talk to him, he'll never have a chance to fall in love with you. So get out there and take a risk. What's the worst that can happen? If he rejects you, then you still won't be together. And you'll be no worse off than you are now.

Lie #10 - Spending enough time with a person of the opposite gender will inevitably lead you to fall in love, even, nay especially, if you hate each other in the beginning. Taking an arduous journey together increases the likelihood of realization that this is, in fact, your soul mate (see Win a Date With Tad Hamilton, Two Weeks' Notice, The Proposal, Leap Year, Stardust, Romancing the Stone, Chasing Liberty and Letters to Juliet and All About Steve and probably some others that aren't coming to mind).

Lie #10b: Your best platonic friend is really in love with you, whether he knows it or not. There is, in reality, no such thing as a platonic relationship (see Valentine's Day, Some Kind of Wonderful, He's Just Not That Into You,Post Grad, When Harry Met Sally and Keeping the Faith).

Reality: I tried this one out. Several times over. Sometimes for a long time. Some things aren't meant to be, some people don't find other people attractive. Some people just want to be friends. You can spend all the time together you want, but if the person is annoying in the beginning, they're usually still annoying months later.

Lie #11: The person you're in love with is probably, in reality, completely shallow and a real jerk, but someone who really is completely amazing and much better than the loser you're with is just around the corner so just keep waiting for that perfect person to come along (see The Wedding Singer, Enchanted, Serendipity, While You Were Sleeping, Stardust, Leap Year and Letters to Juliet, 500 Days of Summer).

Reality: Nobody's perfect, even you.

Now, Holly, I'm not going to pretend that I didn't enjoy a lot of these books and movies. They're funny, heartwarming and, in many cases, just perfect for making me feel good and sappy. But they are not a good guide for navigating the dating world. It's complex enough without you skewing the perception of millions of young, impressionable girls. So from now on, when you're assigning a genre to these movies, would you please just label them FANTASY? Life's not like it is in the movies. Really.

Cheers,
Melanie

Day 9: A List of Blogs You Read

2010-11-13T21:32:00.002-06:00

Well, you can look at the blogs I read any old time you like, since they're pretty much all listed to the right. So I thought I'd give a list of my bookmarks instead. I depend upon them entirely, so perhaps that is more insightful. At the very least, it's more useless information.

Church
E-Mail (Gmail, Yahoo!, AOL)
Blogs
News (NYT, BBC, Local News)
Financial (banks, insurance, loans)
Cooking (Allrecipes.com, Cooks Illustrated, Homemade Baby Food)
Facebook
Madison Public Library
NOAA
Wikipedia
City of Madison
Kaplan
IMDB
GHC (my doctor)
CSA (MACSAC and Vermont Valley Community Farm)
Pandora Radio
Eagle Heights Community Gardens
Wisconsin State Law Library
Isthmus Parents
Recipes I want to try, articles I want to read, etc.

Day 8: A Photo of You Taken Recently

2010-11-12T22:23:00.000-06:00

Day 7: A YouTube Video You Find Funny

2010-11-11T09:25:00.000-06:00

Day 6: A List of What You Ate Today

2010-11-09T23:20:00.002-06:00

orange juice
pancakes with maple syrup
milk
vitamin
whole wheat bunny crackers
kale and sausage pasta with tomatoes
pear
masaman nur with rice
water
rice krispie treat
oatmeal craisin cookie
pumpkin bread
Stephen's Dark Chocolate Cocoa

Day 5: A Letter to Your Crush*

2010-11-09T11:45:00.005-06:00

Dear Joe:
Sorry I was so obsessed with you for so long. It seems like if you ask a girl to dance once, you shouldn't be subjected to a year of her staring you down all the time. But then, that's the sort of risk you run in junior high. In the end, I'm glad we became friends, and just friends. The only thing we had in common was that one dance anyway. I probably loved the song we danced to every bit as much as I thought I loved you.
All the best,
Melanie

Dear Greg:
I'm so glad I summoned all of my courage and asked you on a date. It was truly an empowering experience. You were very nice to go with me. And just as nice about not ever reciprocating my devotion. But I will always remember you as the one I did something about. And for that I'm glad.
All the best,
Melanie

Dear Dustin:
When we met, I was a mere freshman and you were a newly returned missionary. And you were older than my brother. I'd never gone out with anyone older than my brother before. I'm pretty sure 75 percent of the girls on our floor were in love with you. Possibly more. And I was one of those girls. But they were my friends, so I couldn't just go pursuing you. And I was a lowly freshman, so I certainly didn't have the confidence to come after you anyway. So, instead, for months you would flirt with me and I would flirt with you. But all the other girls would flirt with you too, and I never did like competing. And I didn't want to hurt my friends. And, after all, you never did ask me out. And that just doesn't make a girl feel wanted.

Then the year ended, we all moved home, and you only called me once all summer. Was it a date we had? I guess now I know it was, but I didn't know then. And when we all moved back to school, there I was the only girl in the building who knew you. No competition. And you came to see me, but you never told me you were coming so I was never home. And you gave me rides home on the weekends, but you never took me anywhere else, so I figured you were just being nice. And you called me once for a date, but I couldn't go. Then you called back and asked my best friend to go instead. That just doesn't make a girl feel wanted. So I waited for you to call again, but you never did.

All year, I kept waiting. You wanted me to edit your papers, but while I was editing them you flirted with my roommates. That just doesn't make a girl feel wanted. So, maybe I never put myself out there enough, but neither did you. And after two years of angst, you moved on. While I was waiting for my mission call, you got engaged. And I have to admit that I cried and I wondered. But I also think that by then we had drifted into two very different people, and it's a good thing we're living very different lives now.

I guess it might have worked, but you'd have had to take me on a date to find out.
All the best,
Melanie

Dear Doug:
We sure had a lot of fun together, didn't we? Maybe you're the reason I did so much better in physics in college than High School. It was a lot more fun to study the second time around. I have to admit that I was shocked when you started flirting shamelessly on that long car ride back to Logan. After all, my roommate was completely in love with you. But you probably didn't know that, and she wasn't there. Thank you for supporting me as I prepared and left on my mission. I guess I never knew whether you wanted me to stay or not, but the important thing is that I wanted to go more than anything else. And I was nothing but happy to receive your announcement during my first transfer in Italy.
All the best,
Melanie

Dear Chase:
You were irresistible. Too bad a lot of other girls couldn't resist you either. Too bad you were more concerned with dating three Ashleys than dating anyone seriously. But what a dancer! I'm glad your missionary came home and you married her. You were probably too much of a cowboy for me, and I wasn't enough of a cowboy's wife.
All the best,
Melanie

Dear Tristan:
Knowing you was certainly exciting. But I never did know whether I could trust you completely. And that's not a great foundation for a long term relationship, is it? So it's probably better that things didn't work out between us. I hope you'll find someone who you need desperately as you never did need me. Some things just aren't meant to be.
All the best,
Melanie

Dear Mike:
You never were very good to me, or very good for me. At least your stay in my heart was a brief one.
All the best,
Melanie

*with thanks to Alannis Morissette for inspiring this interpretation of the assignment.

Day 4: A History of Melanie

2010-11-08T17:16:00.010-06:00

Today is supposed to be a picture of me taken over 10 years ago. And I have a few of those. But I thought it might be more fun to see how I got from there to here. So, for your pleasure (or mine; this all makes me feel a bit narcissistic, but I'm going for it anyway), here is what I looked like over the past decade and a few that are even older.

Last year I spent a lot of time being a mom and teaching prospective lawyers how to do better on the LSAT.

Before that, I grew a baby. This picture is exactly 18 mos. old today. Glad I'm not doing that again tomorrow!

Random pilgrimage to North Carolina to see the still unfinished Luten Bridge, subject of a landmark contracts case. My friend Lindsay and I thought it was an appropriate activity for the week before law school graduation.

I spent this summer working for a Public Defender's Office outside Washington, DC. And we spent nearly every weekend running around the District, enjoying all the great free stuff. This is me among the Supremes. I may be leaning on Potter Stewart, but I've got Thurgood Marshall on my right hand and I'll be naming my second son after him (if I can convince James, that is).

Here I am all dressed up for Law School Prom (also called Barrister's Ball). James and I decided to go at the last minute, and my fabulous visiting teachers scrounged me up about twenty dresses to wear. Here's the winner.

Newly arrived in Virginia for law school, here I am with Stonewall Jackson. He was buried just down the road from my house. I also regularly passed Robert E. Lee's place of rest on my way through campus.
Here I am at a mission reunion. I don't seem to have taken many pictures in the year and a half between my mission and law school. Erica and I were companions in Verona where we would frequently wonder whether we could, at last, just be whelmed.
And here I am in Verona, just about time to go home (I wasn't as happy about it as I look).

New missionary in Bergamo with one of my favorite English students, Beiley.

This is me on top of the world, or the continent anyway. I'm the one in the green sweatshirt, and we're at the summit of Mt. Whitney. You don't want a closer up picture than this; we hadn't seen showers in five days.

My sophomore roommates, in our bowling attire.

My other life as an airplane pilot.

My other life as a...nevermind.

And now, ten years ago...Actually, I think the former picture was the ten year shot. This is eleven. Freshman Melanie and my roommate Jess, dressed up as long lost twins writing to the same missionary.Just before High School graduation.

Sometime in Junior High I think.

Not sure how old I was here, but it's definitely more than ten years ago. How about that hair? And my brother's glasses, which I think are now back in style.

I had a rather awkward phase from first grade until...well, I'll let you decide. But it definitely wasn't over at this point. And I couldn't find any baby pictures so you'll just have to take my word for it that I was an adorable baby.

Day 3: My Favorite Movies

2010-11-06T19:31:00.002-05:00

This has always been an extremely difficult question for me. It's a little hard to get going, but much harder to stop. Here are a few I'm thinking of today:

"I'm not arguing that with you..."

I didn't love this one the first time I saw it. But I like it more every time I watch it. Ang Lee is amazing, the music is wonderful and it's just sumptuous and I love it. And Emma Thompson is good, but too old. "Thank you for pointing that out, my dear."

Nothing gets me in the Holiday Spirit like watching White Christmas. But then, I've already told you that.

I believe I saw this one in the theatre six times. It's wonderful. My family will sit around the dinner table quoting it.
"These mashed potatoes are so creamy."

When I have a project to do that doesn't require full concentration (tying a quilt, anyone?), this is the movie I turn on. But it's nicely divided into six pieces, in case I only have fifty minutes. And every piece is wonderful. And it's true to Austen.
Truly one of the greatest movies of all time. They do not make movies like this anymore.

If you haven't seen a Hitchcock, you haven't truly been thrilled, just frightened. They don't make movies like this anymore either.

And I should probably stop there. But I could go on. Oh, could I go on. Philadelphia Story, Vertigo, Wit, Breakfast at Tiffany's, Singing in the Rain, My Fair Lady...and here come the musicals. Must stop now.

Day 2: My Day

2010-11-06T10:01:00.003-05:00

Got home a little late last night, so here's the day:

5:45 Virginia woke up. James got up and put her back to sleep.

7:15 Virginia woke up again. James got up and I kept sleeping.

8:15 (I know, but this almost never happens.) I finally got out of bed, took a shower and got ready to face the day.

9:00 I got Virginia changed, dressed and packed for a morning of fun.

10:00 Madison Children's Museum!! Tish and her boys met us there.

10:45 Madison Public Library! Virignia tried to climb into the fountain to see the frog statue. Who wants to play with boats, trains and trucks when there's a frog spitting water?

12:00 Home for lunch. Leftover pasta and Colcannon. Yum!

1:00 Nap for Virginia. While she napped, I made good progress in the book I'm supposed to be reading for the Book Club I'm hosting next week.

2:30 Virignia woke up. We built a train, read books, played with balls, sang, danced, ate snacks and I read about a page and a half of the aforementioned book.

4:45 I started dinner. Virginia was not pleased with this development, so James had to emerge from the office and remind her how fabulous her toys are for a few minutes.

5:45 Dinner on the table just as Alex, our guest, showed up. Perfect! We broke out the Thanksgiving tablecloth Mom found on clearance last year. I was feeling festive!

6:45 I changed for the opera. The dinner guest actually came so we could go to the opera together. Her husband works for Madison Opera and gets comp tickets. I think he's one of the best people to know in Madison, but maybe not for the same reason as Madison Magazine.

7:15 Left for the Overture Center. The parking ramp was full, so it took a long time to park.

7:40 We arrived in pick our favorite wedding cake (the opera was The Marriage of Figaro, so there was a cake competition in the lobby), greet Alex's husband Brian and avoid some people we did not want to see.

7:55 The usher was not very nice about us having only a general idea where we were going, but we made it to our fabulous seats. The woman next to me seemed to have a cough, so my opera experience was rather aromatic. Ah well, as the opera said, il perdono no merta chi agli altri non da.

8:00 Because this was opening night of Madison Opera's 50th Anniversary season, the Lt. Governor gave a little spiel at the beginning, and even gave Brian a little shout out.

9:30 Enjoyed some celtic art and met up with friends during intermission.

11:00 All agreed that the opera was hilarious, very entertaining and well cast. Alex went to the after-party to eat the wedding cake, and the rest of us headed home.

11:20 Got home, read scriptures, talked to James, got ready for bed and fell asleep.

All About Me, in Fifty Days or More

2010-11-04T21:27:00.002-05:00

For the past several weeks, my friend Sheena has been blogging fifty days of fun facts about her, and other random stuff. Since I've been enjoying reading her posts, and they'll soon be coming to an end, I've decided to prolong the fun by doing my own fifty posts. I'm not sure all of these will be completely applicable in my life, but we'll work with them. So, just to heighten your anticipation, here's what you can look forward to:

Day 1: Introduce yourself
Day 2: A bulleted list of everything that happened in your day
Day 3: Your favorite movie
Day 4: A photo of you taken over 10 years ago
Day 5: A letter to your crush
Day 6: A list of what you ate today
Day 7: A youtube video you find funny
Day 8: A photo of you taken recently
Day 9: List some of your favorite blogs
Day 10: A letter to a person who has caused you pain
Day 11: Share your favorite recipe(s)
Day 12: Self portrait
Day 13: Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 14: A song from your childhood
Day 15: A letter to someone you wish you could meet
Day 16: Provide pictures of 5 celebrity crushes
Day 17: A photo that makes you sad
Day 18: Set or share a goal
Day 19: Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 20: A letter to someone that changed your life
Day 21: Your favorite television program
Day 22: A photo that makes you happy
Day 23: Share one of your favorite tunes
Day 24: Time to face morph
Day 25: Someone you judged by their first impression
Day 26: Favorite books
Day 27: A talent of yours
Day 28: Favorite places to shop
Day 29: Your favorite color
Day 30: The friendliest person you knew for only 1 day
Day 31: Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 32: A photo you took
Day 33: What you're craving right now
Day 34: Your favorite quote
Day 35: A letter to an ex
Day 36: Some hobbies of yours
Day 37: A song that you like to dance to
Day 38: A photo of your parents
Day 39: Zodiac sign and do you think it fits your personality
Day 40: A deceased person you wish you could talk to
Day 41: Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 42: A bad habit you have
Day 43: A picture of your favorite place in the world
Day 44: Something that fascinates you and why
Day 45: A letter to yourself a year ago
Day 46: Photos of personal things in your life (pets, family, house, etc)
Day 47: Birthday wish list
Day 48: A photo of you right now
Day 49: Hopes, dreams, and plans for the next 365 days
Day 50: A letter to your reflection in the mirror

And so, the introduction. Let's be honest, if you read my blog it's very likely that you already know me. Nevertheless, here it comes. I'm not actually very good at this sort of thing, so we'll just see what comes out.

I am a lawyer, a mother (just one, nearly 18 mos. old), a Christian (in all the good sense of the word, I hope), a wife and a reader.

I love poetry, music (especially Rachmaninoff), chocolate, cooking, seasons that aren't summer, walks, Italy, trees, books, thought provoking conversation and movies.

I do not like watermelon, meeting new people, going without sleep or food, paisley, flying, shoes that aren't Chacos (yes, I know this contradicts with my hatred of summer, but it's still true), making decisions and family law.

I like to listen more than to talk. I like to go to the opera more than the movies. I joined Facebook just so I could keep playing Scrabble with my law school friends.

And that is me.

Clever Girl

2010-11-03T20:39:00.007-05:00

Virginia is in a major mimicking phase right now. If you speak clearly, she will frequently repeat back the last word you say (provided it has two or fewer syllables). Aside from picking up a lot of new words, her desire to be more like mom and dad has had some entertaining effects.
Whenever she can get her hands on my cell phone, she puts it up to her ear and wanders around for five to fifteen minutes saying "hello" into it. I try not to talk on the phone while she's around unless it's really necessary. She helps with this goal by reaching for the phone and crying whenever I do need to call someone.

She also loves to use whatever we're using and wear our stuff.

I am always carrying bags around with me. I have a library bag, a church bag, a Relief Society bag, a diaper bag, a purse, a work bag and then miscellaneous bags for whatever else I need to haul around. It's convenient for keeping track of my various roles. Virginia's favorite of my bags is my purse, which she loves to empty and refill. She also flings it over her shoulder and struts around the apartment. But anytime a bag is accessible, she'll put some treasures in and carry them around. She also likes to admire others' bags, and help empty them.

If I'm using the laptop, she comes over and shuts it then throws up her hands and says "all done." In the event that her closing attempts are stopped, she just goes for the power button. She knows where it is and she knows exactly what it does.

Virginia does not like to be left at home if someone is going out. She picks up on the signals really well. If James or I put on our shoes, she immediately asks to be picked up. And she does not want to be put down. She has become very cuddly of late and is very good at using this to her advantage. If you're about to put her down, she lays her head on your shoulder and gives you a big hug. If we put on a sweater or jacket, she starts asking for her coat so she can come along. If I pick up my bag or start packing my diaper bag, she starts a chorus of "go, go, go."
It's quite entertaining when all three of us are going somewhere. She can't quite figure out which parent is leaving so she doesn't know who to cuddle/manipulate. Of course we're just trying to get ready to leave so James will put on his shoes, then she'll want him to hold her, then I pick my bag, so she wants me, so once I take her James gets his keys and wallet, so of course she wants to go back to him. I've learned it's best not to try to do anything on a tight schedule if you have a toddler. It just makes everyone happier.
In truth, Virginia just likes coats. She finds comfort in them, apparently. One day something upset her and the only thing she wanted was to wear her coats. Three of them. You can't tell but she's actually wearing another coat underneath the purple one in this photo. And it was about 83 degrees that day.
Virginia also likes to take our keys. One day James gave her his keys and she wandered off somewhere in the apartment. She came back without them and we searched high and low to no avail. About a month later, I was doing dishes and she walked over with the keys in her hand. She proudly showed me her treasure. "Keys," she said. We went and woke Daddy up to give him the surprise. And we still have no idea where she stashed them for all that time.

Okay, that picture had nothing to do with stealing keys. But it does show two of Scout's favorite activities (bathing and wistfully gazing into the bathtub). And sometimes she hides things in the tub. This week it was library books. Not good.

Announcement

2010-10-07T21:54:00.000-05:00

At the ripe old age of 16 months 28 days, Virginia McKay, who loves to sit on the floor and read her books and never take any unecessary risks, has finally learned to walk.

She's been taking independent steps for a month now, but not standing or walking really. Tonight something clicked. Suddenly, she was pivoting, she was walking toward a destination, and she was pausing every three or four steps to clap and cheer for herself. At long last, she gets it. And she knows she gets it. And we're all pretty ecstatic. Friends were invited to come watch, grandparents were called, videos were shot (though they refuse to load so you can't watch them), plans were made for the children at story time to finally stop patting her on the head and treating her like an infant. Now I just have to hope she'll still have it figured out tomorrow morning.

Ships Passing in the Night

2010-10-01T10:38:00.001-05:00

Yesterday

I got up at 7:15.
Virginia got up at 7:30.
She ate breakfast and took a bath.
James got up at 9:30, at which point I jumped in the shower.
As soon as I finished, Virginia and I headed off to story time.
Immediately after story time, we went to the airport to pick up our friend Vaneesa, who came home to spend the day with us.
We got home at 11:40 five minutes after James left for campus.
We ate a quick lunch, I put Virginia down for a nap, then went to take our other friends Alex and Brian to the airport.
On the way home, I stopped at the library and picked up West Side Story, which Vaneesa and I have been trying to watch for months. Really, I wanted to take a nap, but who has time for that? Instead, we watched the movie and I prepared my lesson for work.
Virginia woke up at 2:15.
The movie ended at 4:00.
Virginia and I then went to pick up our CSA box while Vaneesa took a nap on the couch. Lucky.
Vaneesa's ride home arrived as we got home, at 4:35.
James called about 4:40 to say he was on the way home, I didn't get to the phone fast enough to answer and he didn't answer when I called back.
James arrived home at 4:55 and took Virginia outside to play with bubbles.
In the thirty seconds that we were both inside, we realized that dinner would have to be frozen pizza; I didn't have time to make anything else.
I threw the pizza in the oven, quickly changed my clothes, ate some leftovers, and left for work at 5:15.
I was in a meeting from 5:30-6:30, tutoring from 6:30-8:00 and a meeting again from 8:00-8:40.
James called as I was walking out of work to see when I'd be home. Since we hadn't talked all day, we chatted on the phone while I drove home.
I parked in the alley and he walked out as I walked in. He was off to play basketball.
I went to bed around 10:30. He got home sometime after 11:00.

It's a good thing not every day is like this, or we might have to pass each other messages through Virginia.

Virginia Lately

2010-09-23T20:58:00.011-05:00

It's hard to learn to use a spoon. Perhaps not as hard as eating yogurt with your fingers. But Scout tries both regularly, just to be sure.

Looking at herself in the mirror remains one of her favorite pastimes. She does not always have pants on her head for these sessions of self-adoration.

She loves bathing and reading. Now, thanks to the duckie tub, she gets a little of both.

She spends a good deal of her time hanging out with this adorable boy...

...and his adorable brother. They both walk, and with a good dosage of peer pressure, Scout will try it too.

She loves to push things around, her stroller here.

Usually, these days, she's pushing a little walker. It's given us both a lot of independence.

She still loves playing in the dirt.

We recently took a little road trip out to our CSA farm and picked a LOT of basil. Scout thought it was great fun.

And this is just a typical day at our house. Virginia makes her way into the bathroom whenever the door is open, trying to get someone to give her a bath, or let her participate in theirs.

When she does have to get dressed, she loves to put hats on. And her diaper is usually sticking out the back of her pants.

She still loves to read.

Many happy hours are spent pulling books off the coffee table and reading them.

She's getting better with the spoon (and still working on growing more teeth).

Another favorite pastime, staring out of this window.

She is occasionally distracted by the pile of toys next to her perch on the couch.
Always the poser.

Celebrating

2010-09-05T19:33:00.000-05:00

I like the fall
The mist and all
I like the night owl’s lonely call
And wailing sound
Of wind around

I like the gray
November day
And dead, bare boughs that coldly sway
Against my pane
I like the rain

I like to sit
And laugh at it
And tend my cozy fire a bit
I like the fall

I didn't write this poem, Dixie Willson did. But a friend recently introduced me to it, and I love it. It was exactly what I needed to cheer me up on a miserable, hot August day. No, I am not a summer person. So now that things have turned cooler, I'm welcoming Autumn and the opportunity to enjoy more beautiful leaves (it's not that fallish yet; the trees are changing, but the picture above is from last year). Bring on the fall!!
The mist and all

Healthy Observations

2010-09-02T22:45:00.003-05:00

This summer, for various reasons, I've been trying to be more healthy. First, my good friend Bethany invited me to participate in a competition with weekly challenges to improve our health. Second, the size of our garden plot quadrupled this year, so we had a lot more vegetables to eat. And third, back in the pre-Spring when we hadn't eaten anything fresh in months, fresh veggies sounded like something we couldn't get enough of. So, because our fabulously "progressive" health insurance gives us up to $200 toward buying a CSA share, we opted to split a weekly produce share with some friends. Thus, for the past few months, veggies have been making their way into our house like summer will never come again. And we've been eating, and storing, them as quickly as we can.

Although The Great Produce Plethora of 2010 will continue for another month or two, the healthiness challenge is ending tomorrow. So, I thought I'd share some of the things I've learned.

1. I don't love bread nearly as much as I thought I did. I still like it, but I don't need it.

2. I do love chocolate every bit as much as I thought I did. Possibly more.

3. Most cookbooks use vegetables as minor ingredients but aren't great at recipes that give you the vegetable as part of a somewhat nutritious side dish where you really get to enjoy the flavor of the vegetable. However, if you can find them, the cookbooks that do this are great.

4. Lettuce goes out of season. Who knew? In the middle of summer when it's really hot, it's too hot for lettuce. Of course you can still buy it in the store, but then you can buy tomatoes in January too.

5. All Bran tastes like cardboard. Cliche, but true.

6. Flax seed tastes worse.

7. All Bran and flax seed make excellent ingredients in delicious breakfast bread products that completely disguise their otherwise undesirable flavors. I do love whole grains, but it seems I enjoy them more collectively than individually.

8. 64oz. of water isn't that much. You can even drink it on a Sunday night after you finish fasting. Have a bathroom handy.

9. 96 oz. of water is a lot to drink in a day and takes concerted effort. Not to be attempted on a day when you have to fly somewhere.

10. Strength training is not that bad. I don't know why I always avoided it before, but I actually enjoy it in some forms. I will no longer neglect this aspect of exercise.

11. If you don't do any abdominal workouts for two weeks, no matter how great your abs were before, your abs are pretty much going to be gone at the end of those two weeks. And when you resume the ab workouts, you will be sore.

12. It's a lot harder to keep my healthy habits in line when I haven't had enough sleep. It takes energy to talk myself into making healthy decisions.

13. I can get almost as much pleasure from thinking about the food I want as I get from actually eating it. Okay, I already knew this one. But it's a great little trick.

14. The second (or tenth) bite of ice cream doesn't taste any better than the first. It's important to take time to enjoy it, and when you've had enough, save some to enjoy another day.

15. The difference between runners (them) and joggers (me) is that they pass me.

16. It's a lot easier to run three miles at the beach than in Phoenix (elevation friends, elevation).

17. There are a lot of things you can do with vegetables that put their nutritional value in question. But fennel really is a lot yummier if you braise it in butter.

18. Yoga is addicting.

19. No matter what the scale says, having a baby has permanently altered my shape. We suspected this to be true and it has been confirmed. Or maybe being old altered my body? After all, the pre-baby clothes fit just fine, but the pre-law school clothes, less so.

20. You can freeze tomatoes. Just wash them and freeze them. The little ones turn out like marbles and the big ones are like billiard balls. It's actually kind of cool.

21. As it turns out, you can have too many fresh vegetables, but that doesn't mean we won't do exactly the same thing next summer. Because which ones would we want to do without?

Things that make you go, huh?

2010-07-06T06:06:00.000-05:00

At a certain parking garage in Madison, there is an elevator* for people with wheelchairs, strollers and other stair-prohibitive situations to get to ground level. It's great to be so handicap accessible, right?

EXCEPT they've hidden the elevator behind this extremely heavy metal door. Sure, there's a nice handicap-friendly handle on the door, but the door still weighs about fifty pounds and closes rather abrubtly the second you stop pushing on it. I have enough trouble with my able body and my stroller. I cannot imagine an eighty-year-old wheelchair-bound grandma holding that door open for herself while she wheels through to the elevator, even if her wheelchair is battery powered. So yes, this elevator is completely accessible to all disabled people who are also body builders. Everyone else will just have to take the stairs.

*I should say that this particular elevator is well worth the effort, if you can get to it. It has glass walls so you can look out on the city as you go up and down. Scout loves the windows, and I love admiring the courthouse that looks more like an acquarium-casino hybrid that anything government related. It's a lovely view.

Assistant Gardener

2010-07-01T22:28:00.006-05:00

Warning! Proud Mommy Post

2010-07-01T21:46:00.007-05:00

The past several weeks have been full of excitement for Scout. She has acquired a lot of new skills and had some new experiences.

With it being Father's Day, Virginia had to decide what to get for her Dad. She inspected this shirt thoroughly to see whether it required replacement.

No luck, it was still in fine shape. Of course, that was only until James wore it to a conference the next day, with an uncapped pen in his pocket. So the new shirt gift idea was a go after all.

Virginia got to swing for the first time. Overall, she liked it.

She is now pulling herself up on things.

mostly me

She has started eating things that are bigger than bite size.

We are still working on not shoving an entire pancake into your mouth at the same time.

This picture is here because I think it's cute.

And this is the last pointless picture with no justifiably relevant caption. But look at that smile!

And actually, if you look closely enough at the smile, you can see the new top tooth sticking out, so there is a point after all.

She has started crawling, at last!!

This is what we call the "army crawl" or "leopard crawl," depending on who you ask.

Some say it's just "scooting," but we pretty much ignore them. Deliberate forward motion is good enough to be crawling in my book!

And just because we were on the scooting/crawling border, she is now doing a full, up-on-all-fours crawl.

Life is full of simple joys.

Thoughts on Constant Parenting

2010-06-27T21:50:00.002-05:00

This afternoon I had to take a little trip to the bathroom. I even took a book with me, silly me! I left the door a little ajar because I had a feeling Virginia would want to come be near me, as is often the case. As predicted, she promptly showed up, proudly pushing the door open and crawling right on in.

Scout is currently fascinated by doors. She loves to push them open and closed. So, she busied herself with the usual swinging back and forth of the bathroom door. Then she got a little excited and swung the door right into her face, whacking herself in the mouth right where her new teeth are emerging. Needless to say, drama ensued.

There was screaming, there were tears. I coached her to crawl over close enough that I could pick her up and put her on my lap for a few minutes to give her some comfort. She told me all about how awful it had been and how that mean door whacked her right in the face. I tried to be as sympathetic as possible.

Finally, she calmed down and began spinning the toilet paper on its holder. I could see that it would all be on the floor shortly if she didn't find other entertainment. So, I pulled a few soap samples from the basket on the back to the toilet, showed her how nicely they rattle, and put her and them back on the floor to play while I finished my business.

At this point, I started thinking about a friend who was recently asked whether becoming a parent isn't really a selfish decision. And I'd been philosophically pondering this question for several days. But now, with my daughter trying to pull her soap from the edge of the bathtub, I just had to laugh. Anyone who thinks parenting is selfish has no idea what parenting is all about. Whatever it started out as, it very quickly becomes a major commitment and a lifelong lesson in service unlike any other.

There are a lot of jobs that are very demanding. But most of them don't follow you into the bathroom. Even if a crisis happens while you're in there, it usually just has to wait a minute or two until your personal business is taken care of. Parenting is its own special kind of work with no bathroom breaks, no sick days and very little shift work.

How Scout Plays Peek-a-Boo

2010-06-27T21:43:00.002-05:00

This is hiding

Notice how the corners of the cloth are pulled down?

And this is peeking

Notice that the corners are now up.

After all, if she actually covered her eyes, she might miss seeing your wonder where she's gone, and that would be no fun.

Now that we have a one-year-old

2010-06-27T21:13:00.005-05:00

Some things are still the same (every book must come off the shelf).

Some things are messier.

And life involves a lot more posing.

Especially when she's gotten into something and spread it all over the floor.

I wonder where she gets it from?
And, my personal favorite. Her hair is long enough for some great pigtails (and a fauxhawk, but I didn't take a picture of that).

At Least I Got What I Wanted

2010-06-09T18:39:00.003-05:00

Because nobody has a complaint department anymore...

Around 4:40 this afternoon, our modem stopped working. This came as only a mild surprise since at about 4:15 Scout was holding it in her hands, eating it like a sandwich, and then slammed it into the floor. In addition to the aforementioned interaction with our one-year-old, we knew it was a modem problem because the modem is typically alight with various flashing and steady green lights. Now, only the power light was on, and it was red. Not a good sign.

So, we called our internet service provider, who also provides the modem. And just because I know you're wondering, that provider is AT&T. We don't use them because we like them. We use them because they are the only carrier who will give us ESPN 360, and James loves College Football. But I digress....

James graciously took the first turn on the phone, spent ten minutes giving the automated system as much information as possible and finally got to speak with a real person. This person said that the red light means the modem is shot, the modem (which is only a few months old) is no longer under warranty, and we must buy a new modem. He puts James on hold for about five minutes, then comes back with a phone number to call to order a new modem. We're not thrilled about the money, but we need our internet more than our $50.

So James calls the new number and speaks with a nice woman in Texas who says that she can't help us. He must call another number, which she gives him. Bear in mind that every one of these phone calls involves the same ten minute automated system maze navigation before you can speak with anyone. He calls the new number and learns that whoever this is has closed for the day. They're only open until 6:00 Eastern and it's now 5:20 in Wisconsin (we've been at it about 35 minutes).

My turn. I call the original number again. I've been through this little maze a number of times and I know that if you just start pushing buttons at random, you get on the fast track to a customer service representative and the person you'll talk to is more likely to know what they're talking about. So, I push my random buttons and speak with a guy named Renee who concurs that the modem is shot and says I'll need to order a new one. Oh, and he's sorry for the inconvenience of having to call so many different numbers. So Renee checks his little computer (two minutes on hold), which tells him that whatever customer service place is supposed to service us will be open for another half hour. So he's going to transfer me to them. At 5:34, I start holding. At 5:57, I stop holding. Either every customer in Madison is calling them with a problem or they're not actually open anymore. And I'd rather complain to a person than be on hold anyway, right? Possibly my favorite thing about being on hold with AT&T is that they keep telling you help is available online. If I'd just long onto att.com, they could probably solve my problem faster, which would be great if my problem weren't the fact that the internet isn't working.

So, being the tenacious sort, I call in again. This time I'm more patient, go through the slower maze, answering more automated questions. Whoever I speak with this time also says that I need a new modem. And he apologizes for the inconvenience of me having been on hold so long. It seems like he might have some other direction for me, but he suddenly disappears entirely. I have been hung up on.

Not to be defeated so easily, I call one more time. It should be noted that at this point James has left and Virginia has grown bored with the books I'm trying to use to entertain her and is
now pushing random buttons on my computer. The screen display was upside down by the time she was done. Great. Anyway, on this call I once again push 0 a bunch of times and, after surrendering minimal information, I speak with a very nice woman who, of course, apologizes for the inconvenience of...well, she couldn't actually put all of what had happened to me/us in words. But she tried valiantly, and I politely tried not to laugh. This time I told her that I needed a new modem. I figured yet another diagnosis would just waste time. She still checked and concurred that, yep, the red power light means you need a new modem. Then, wonder of wonders, she said something helpful! If you want a new modem really quickly, you can just go to an AT&T store and buy one. Tonight even. She gives me the addresses and phone numbers of three such stores in Madison. And if they don't have a modem, Best Buy will. There's hope! With a little luck, we can be blissfully back online tonight! I call the store, and they don't even close until 8pm.

I start to call James to give him the good news, but Virginia has a little meltdown and needs to be put to bed for any further progress on the modem problem will be permitted. That's fine, they're open until 8. To bed she goes, and I call James to tell him where the store is. As we're finishing our conversation, I glance at the modem and notice that there are green lights now. In fact, the power light is green. The ethernet light is green. And only the DSL light is red. I do the standard fix of unplugging everything, waiting fifteen seconds, then plugging it all back in. The lights flash, they flash some more, and suddenly, they're all green! I open up my laptop, get the screen display turned right side up again, and open up Mozilla. Low and behold, the internet is fine. Everything is fine. For no apparent reason, the modem has returned from the dead.

It is now 6:35 p.m. And while I am a little chagrined that two irretrievable hours of my life have been donated to customer service calls, I am also feeling a little grateful that I never did get to speak with anyone who would take my credit card number and send me a new modem. Because it probably would have taken at least two hours to convince them they wanted to let me send it back for a refund.

For Whatever it's Worth

2010-05-21T14:06:00.005-05:00

For some reason, even though I read a lot of books, I haven't blogged about them. I do love to read and have had time to read a lot more lately than at other periods of my life (unless you count prepping cases for class as reading). It's a lot of fun and certainly an indulgence for me. My books of choice tend to be novels, and I venture into non-fiction rather infrequently. One of the reasons for that is that I don't usually finish non-fiction books. They tend to be redundant. So, once I've gotten the gist, I often get bored and move on to something with a plot.

However, I have recently happened onto several non-fiction books that I greatly enjoyed. I enjoyed them so much, in fact, that I recommend them to you, if you are looking for something to read. They are, in my opinion, worth the time. And I guess that's a lot, coming from me, because I'm not afraid to put books down if I'm not enjoying them. I do it with some frequency (even to novels). Life is too short, and my to-read list is WAY too long. And now, thanks to me, your to-read list can be even longer.

How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie
I was recently at the library looking for books to help me in a communication workshop I sort of fell into teaching, and there sat this book. It's the classic, right? The original book on how to be a good salesman. I checked it out on a whim, thinking it would be funny to flip through as a basic reference. Instead, however, I ended up reading almost all of the "how to win friends" part and basing my entire presentation off of this book. It's very good. It draws you right in, is very entertaining, and isn't full of tricks or slimy recommendations on how to manipulate people. In fact, if I had to sum it all up, I might say that its most important recommendation is to be sincere. And I think Carnegie's advice is excellent. Great book with great advice on dealing with people. I have to give two caveats though. First, I actually only read the "how to win friends part," so I'm not exactly certain how his advice is on influencing people. And second, I think the book would be better titled "how to win acquaintances who think you're a great person." Forming true friendships requires more sharing of yourself and just a deeper relationship than Carnegie leads you through. This book can help you gain a lot of potential friends, but I think the next step is up to you (or some other book).

The End of Overeating: Taking Control of the Insatiable American Appetite by David Kessler
On that same fateful trip to the library, I noticed this book on the "new" shelf and picked it up on even more of a whim. And, to be honest, when I picked it up and for the first half of the book, I thought it was about something a little different. It's a great book for anyone who has ever wondered why you can't eat just two or three potato chips and then move on. Or why every time you drive past Krispy Kreme, you really really really want to go in and get a doughnut, or twelve. If you've never felt that way, you might not like it so much. But it's a fascinating read. It's written by the former head of the FDA and is very insightful into our psychology as well as the food industry. It will change the way you think about food. It may also cause you to think twice about anything you eat that is prepared or processed (not because those things are bad, necessarily, but just because he explains more about them). I will say that the abundant descriptions of tantalizing food in this book succeeded in making me hungry more than once. So don't read it just before you go grocery shopping.

Freakonomics by Steven D. Leavitt and Stephen J. Dubner
Okay, in all fairness, I listened to this one on CD while driving around town. I've discovered that I spend a lot of hours driving around town. And now that I'm spending those hours listening to books, I talk to my mom on the phone quite a bit less. Oops. Anyway, I've always meant to read this, since I majored in economics and have heard it's interesting. Indeed it is, though random and somewhat pointless, well not pointless so much as lacking in overall message (kind of like this sentence). However, the chapter on the futility of being an over-worried parent came on a day when I really needed it, and the bit about incentives is extremely insightful and applicable to many situations in life. It was nice to flex a part of my brain that hasn't had as much to do for the past few years, and there are many great anecdotes, including a summary of a book I read and enjoyed last year (Gang Leader for a Day*). If you like random statistics or interesting trivia, this is a great book for you.

*I recommend this one too. Good insight into what gang life is really like and the true face of poverty. And I think it's funny to discover that these two authors are friends. I mean, look at the complete titles of their books. It's clear that either their minds or the minds of their publishers (or is that publisher?) function in pretty much the same way. And while we're on THAT subject, who decided that all book jackets should be white? I had to laugh when I put down The End of Overeating, with its white cover, and noticed a nearly identical jacket on the next book I picked up, Eat, Pray, Love (I'm only halfway through and the jury is still out on this one, but let's just say that had a good friend not recommended it very highly I would probably have put it back on the shelf by now).

Time Flies When You're Having Fun!

2010-05-13T22:05:00.007-05:00

My how quickly a year goes by. I can hardly believe the changes this past year brought.

Our tiny baby is growing in to a little girl, from a helpless bundle of joy to an almost standing, always squirming bundle of smiles. This post is full of collages, but it truly is quite a feat to distill an entire year of parenthood into just one manageable blog post (not that I won't try).

We've had a wonderful year of family time.

I know families come in all shapes and sizes, but it is fun to feel like a stereotypical family, hanging out together. And the more time we spend together, the more we seem to enjoy it.

A year of trying to capture everything cute and/or funny.

Composing this post has made me realize the ridiculous volume of photos we've taken this year. But it has also brought back a lot of fun memories, like Virginia clapping for herself the day she ripped all my magazines apart, learning to hold a spoon, and discovering that the tupperware drawer is just the right height.

A year of mutual admiration.

And self-admiration. Virginia's favorite thing in the world, next to her books, is mirrors. A book with a mirror in it is pure nirvana. Needless to say, she was pretty thrilled about both going to the bean and sitting in front of the three panel mirror at the store. That was so exciting I took a video of her bliss (I'm so dedicated to my still photography that it's actually the only time I've ever videoed anything--had to figure how to make the camera do it first).

A year of sharing our joy with family and friends.

These are pictures of Virginia's baby blessing, the day Scout and Atticus finally got together, and Scout with her great-grandmothers (including the original Virginia).

A year of sleep, sometimes more than others.

You'll notice these pictures stop when she's about four months old. She stopped sleeping wherever and through whatever, but I still miss when she would lay on my knees and just sleep there.

A year of food, in many forms and locations.

From bottles and tubes to spoons and hands, everywhere from the side of the road to the Cheesecake Factory.

A year of reading.

We've made a lot of progress here too. The pictures are in color, some of the pages are made of paper rather than cardboard, and she's even willing to read some Eric Carle books (though not all of them and not always). Our little Scout remains a discerning reader. She has favorites, and shoves everything else aside. But sometimes, when she thinks I'm not watching, she pulls out the new material to give it a look and perhaps approve it for future read-alouds.

What a wonderful year of cuddling and kissing and loving and learning. Oh how we love our baby girl!

Virginia's Birthday: A Story of Celebration

2010-05-13T14:17:00.016-05:00

A certain member of our family recently turned one. To commemorate the occasion, in addition to a rather sappy, reminiscent post (which is on its way) we share with you an account of how she celebrated, in mostly pictures, with only a few words--just the way the birthday girl prefers her stories.

In anticipation of presents, Virginia tried out her "surprised" face for her father.

She put on a party dress, so everyone would know it was her special day.

The presents started to pile up.

So she started trying to figure out how to get them open.

That was confusing, so we moved on to the important stuff....

The food!

Yep, she was pretty excited, because at this point all she'd seen was the usual vegetables in her little orange bowl.

What? You interrupted my vegetables for this?!

Oh wait, there's fire.

Ooh, fire.

Really not sure about this part.

It feels...squishy.

Okay...I'll try it.

Nope, don't like it. Not even if you cut it in pieces.

But she did get frosting all over that hand she's running through her hair.

And now, it's all over her hair.

Mom, please stop trying to feed me this strange chocolate stuff. I just don't think I like it.

Wait!

Is that...a camera...?

Better act excited!

Notice the only place there is no cake, inside her mouth.

Yah! Cake!!!!

One bath later...a very calm, dignified birthday celebration continues.

Thoughts on Prepared Parenting

2010-05-11T18:41:00.002-05:00

Upon becoming parents,you want to have three sheets for your baby's crib. Why, you ask? One plus a backup should be fine, right? Wrong. After two weeks without "incident," you may decide that you might as well go ahead and change the crib sheet for the sake of being sanitary. And it will inevitably be on that day that an incident will occur (sometimes within minutes of the sanitary change), necessitating another clean sheet. This is to say nothing of the days with multiple "incidents." You ALWAYS want to have a clean sheet available.

These are the days I'm glad many pairs of pajamas come with more than one set of bottoms. If you enjoy doing laundry, parenthood may be just the thing for you.

Family Outing

2010-05-11T14:25:00.005-05:00

One lovely afternoon, we decided to take a little family outing to Olbrich Botanical Gardens, one of Madison's wonderful, affordable attractions. We had a relaxing afternoon, strolling through the gardens, though I was surprised that life didn't seem to be in bloom quite as abundantly in the gardens as elsewhere in Madison. Nevertheless, we enjoyed ourselves, and James and Virginia were very patient with my need to photograph everything.

The birds were out.

The plants were beautiful.

Predictably, Scout was not content with a merely visual experience.
And, of course, I had to capture more images of the Thai Pavillion

For your viewing enjoyment

2010-04-19T13:34:00.004-05:00