Nothing Gold

Levi's Big Adventure

2011-03-07T16:52:00.002-05:00

Levi takes the bus home from school every day except Wednesday, when he has gymnastics after school. Adah and I meet him at the bus stop and walk him the 2 blocks home. Last Wednesday he forgot to go to gymnastics. He got on the bus instead. When he got off the bus, no one was there to meet him. He decided to walk home alone. It's not far, but he had to cross 2 busy streets. He was very angry with me for forgetting him. (I know this from conversations we've had). When he got home he entered the code in the box to get into our building, rode the elevator up to our floor and our front door was unlocked (thank heavens!). He went in and looked in every room. No one was home. At that point he remembered that he was supposed to be at gymnastics and started crying. He realized I was at school waiting to pick him up. He thought hard about what he ought to do. He decided to look for the neighbor we know and ask her to drive him. He guessed and knocked on the wrong door. No one was home. He went back to our house. He looked around to see if Schuyler or I had left our phones. No luck. He thought about using our land line phone, but he doesn't know our numbers. Finally, he went to the computer. My gmail was open. Levi chatted with Schuyler. This is what they said:

me: :'(

Schuyler: what?

OMG.

I'm freaking out here.

me: that was me levi

Schuyler: Why are you at home?

me: yes

Schuyler: Did you have gymnastics today?

me: yes

Schuyler: Is mom at home?

me: no

Schuyler: WHAT?

me: i took the bus

Schuyler: ok

hold on

mom is coming home

are u okay

me: yes

Schuyler: can you answer the regular phone?

Schuyler called me and I rushed home. He called Levi and reassured him. All in all it wasn't a big deal. Levi handled it well. He wants to quit gymnastics though. We've programmed Schuyler's cell number into our land line phone. Levi probably needs to memorize both our numbers. I'm starting to understand why people let their children have cell phones.

Oh for an Idyllic Childhood

2011-01-24T13:52:00.005-05:00

I took Adah to toddler story time at the Westover library today. She loved it. Poor Adah doesn't get to go to nearly as many toddler activities as her brother did at her age. And he was never actually very interested. He was always one of the ones running off down the aisles instead of listening to the story. Adah wouldn't take her coat off or stand up for any songs, but she sat in my lap, clutching my thumbs for dear life, completely enrapt. She would get a huge grin and clap as hard as she could while still holding on to my thumbs. I really need to take her to more of those things.

This particular library branch is out in the McKinley neighborhood, where we considered living when we were moving down here. The neighborhood is much different than our current one. For one example the crowd at the library was about half moms and dads (okay moms and dad) and half nannies. At our library it would be nearly all nannies. For what we currently pay in rent we could get an actual house there, with a backyard. We actually drove past a house we considered renting. It would be walking distance to that library. Also to the Lost Dog Cafe, which is awesome. There are sidewalks and trees and parks and room to ride bikes. I had to think really really hard about how AWESOME Levi's school is in order to not have a mild panic attack.

I worry so much that we are ruining our children's childhoods by making them live here in an apartment with no yard, not much good in the way of walkable parks and a bunch of neighbors that hate kids. I love Levi's school and I can only hope with all my being that it's worth it.

Germy germs at Target

2011-01-21T14:39:00.003-05:00

Adah and I went to Target yesterday. We used to go there a lot but we don't as much anymore because of the whole Minnesota Forward thing. We wanted to check if their toys had gone to 90% off. They hadn't. We also needed to get some sandpaper for Levi's pinewood derby car. Adah and I had some fun wandering around checking out what was on sale. Adah helped push the cart.

I got a tiny electric screwdriver on clearance. Maybe this is embarrassing to admit, but we haven't had a working drill/screwdriver thing for awhile. We occasionally wish we did. The one I bought is pink. I don't really understand why they decided to start making pink tools. Did someone say, "You know, women aren't buying a lot of tools. Maybe they would if the tools were cuter," and the other people said, "Yes! Great idea! Make them pink! Women love things that are pink!"

They don't even support breast cancer research. They're just pink.

After wandering around some more and making a few more random selections we went to check out. I walked up to an open cashier. She said, "how are you today?" with a big sigh and forehead sweep. I said, "I'm pretty good. Are you doing okay?"

She told me that she thought she had the flu. I was sympathetic but also rather disgusted. I smiled and tried to help her out but I couldn't help shrinking away from her and hoping she didn't touch my stuff too much. Then she tried to give Adah a high-five. Come on! If she doesn't have the sense to keep her germy hands away from babies, what are the chances she thinks to wash them often while she's sick? Luckily Adah is terrified of strangers and turned away in a huff at the offer. It's the first time I've been glad she did that. I can understand that this woman doesn't make very much money and probably can't afford to stay home even if her manager would let her. I'm not mad at her (ok, I am, but only for trying to high-five my child not for coming in to work). I am mad at Target. They need to have some kind of procedure in place. There's got to be an easier, less public, job this very ill woman could be doing until she gets better. Cashier is the 2nd worst job they could have her working. The restaurant would be worse. But they have a ton of jobs she could be doing. They really didn't need to have her dealing directly with customers.

Maybe I shouldn't be shopping at a store that doesn't treat its employees well in the first place. But that would put some responsibility on me. Hmmm.

Think I can restart this blogging thing?

2011-01-05T16:55:00.002-05:00

I'm going to try to start writing on my blog this year. It's not a resolution, I don't really do that. I just want everyone to start blogging again, so I'm gonna try too.

I was supervising Levi's homework yesterday. He was doing a math sheet, which is something he enjoys. The sheet was about fractions. One of the questions was, "would you rather share a candy bar with one other person or two other people?"

He had written 'two'. Knowing that that was the wrong answer I prepared to talk to him about it until I read the answer to the follow up 'explain why' question. He had written, "I like to hang out."

So he may not know more math than me, but he looks to be shaping up to be a better person than I. I'm very much cool with that.

Placebo for sale?

2010-01-26T12:55:00.004-05:00

Last night Levi woke up saying his knee hurt. He can be a little dramatic when it comes to pain and he thrashed around and moaned and couldn't go back to sleep. Schuyler rubbed his leg and tried to get him to relax, but he was having a lot of trouble going back to sleep. Then we gave him some Tylenol and he fell asleep within 2 minutes. Way sooner than the Tylenol could have begun to work. So I'm wondering, can you buy sugar pills? Some kind of safe placebo to give your kids? It seems like that would come in handy. I guess I should go find out if the internet knows.

Edit: okay after doing a bit of research on the subject I am forced to conclude that I am a terrible mother for considering it. I would be teaching my child that he should always take a pill for every minor ailment and also that he can't trust me to tell him the truth. Whoops.

A Story that Probably has a Moral

2010-01-06T14:12:00.003-05:00

Once upon a time there was a baby girl that wanted to stay up all night and party. She went to bed with Mommy and Daddy at around 10. Daddy went right to sleep, like usual. Usually Baby snuggles and nurses and goes to sleep with Mommy shortly after. That night she nursed and snuggled and played and nursed and snuggled and played and would not go to sleep. At around 12:30 Daddy woke up and noticed that Mommy's head was about to explode. He picked up Baby and went in the next room. Mommy went right to sleep. After about 45 minutes Mommy woke up and went to grab Baby and tell Daddy to go back to sleep. Baby finally went to sleep too. In the morning Daddy told Mommy to stay in bed and he got the older child ready for school and waited for the carpool and was late to work. The moral of this story might be 'Don't have babies'. But I think it's 'Sleep is the very best possible gift you can give' or 'Daddy is awesome'.

A Strange Coincidence?

2009-08-27T10:44:00.002-05:00

I have an interesting story to tell, but it has the word period in it a lot. Just a warning, in case that bothers you.

On Monday my mom started her period. This is unusual because she hasn't had one for 6 months or so (menopause). My sister Leah has an IUD and doesn't get periods, but she started one on Monday as well. My sister Claire also started hers on Monday, which is not really weird by itself. My sister Mary, who is 13 started her very first period on Monday. None of these women live together. None of them even live in the same city.

Schuyler says he is forced to think it is just a very strange coincidence. ( this even though he scoffs at making your data fit your assumptions :) )

I think it is something else, but I don't know what. Ideas?

Happy Anniversary, Schuyler. I love you!

2009-08-26T12:23:00.015-05:00

Homecoming

Graduation (high school)

The Beach (duh!)

Oh yeah, today is Peter's birthday too!

It's hard to find pictures together after we had kids. All the pictures are of the kids or maybe one or the other of us and one of the kids. Hmm... I still feel like we're romantic and all that. It's been 9 years and we're still one of those annoying couples that does everything together. Maybe we just don't like to look at ourselves as much as we did then. Looking back over the years Schuyler has gotten better and better looking, while I've sort of gone the opposite direction. Not really fair, but I've grown some good kids, so probably worth it. And our kids are a big part of our relationship now. Here's a recent picture of the whole family:

I really love that dude.

We are enjoying it!

2009-06-13T10:45:00.003-05:00

Cloth diapering is kind of fun. We've really been liking it. There are so many cute styles too. Adah has grown out of the 3 extra small diapers we bought her. They are bumGenius all in ones. Most of the diapers we bought are one size - designed to fit from birth through potty training with some fancy snapwork. But she was so little that they didn't fit her well so we bought the three small ones as a treat for us. They were so cute! Here's a pic:

But she has grown out of those, and we're thinking of using cloth while we're out in Washington state for a 9 days so we'll probably need to buy a couple more diapers. I want to try the new Grobaby diapers. They look pretty cool. They have a reusable shell and snap in inserts, so you don't need to wash the whole thing everytime she wets, you just change the insert. Cool. And I like the colors.

What idiot invented summer vacation?

2009-06-12T14:04:00.003-05:00

Did you ever have one of those days where your oldest kept slamming doors and threatening to hit you and even locked himself in the bathroom to avoid a time out and your baby keeps crying until you give in and let her have a nap in her carseat and your house is so messy that if CPS saw it they'd take your kids away and you don't have anyone you can really call for support, but writing a blog post about it helps a little?

Small Blessings

2009-06-10T14:35:00.001-05:00

Levi is playing outside with the neighbor girl, Adah is asleep and I am eating a popsicle. Thank God for moments like this!

Adah's Birth Story

2009-06-01T14:51:00.001-05:00

I'd like to share my labor story here. You might want to hear it, and I might want to read it later. Watch out, I think it'll be long and perhaps boring. And maybe gross. Here goes:

On Friday, March 20 I had a regular appointment with one of the three midwives I had been seeing. My due date was either the 23rd or the 25th depending on where you looked in my chart. They were pretty much going with the 23rd. That date was calculated from my last period. The other was calculated from her size at my first ultrasound. It always worries me how set in stone that date is. Especially when they ask me the date of my last period and I say, "uh, I think it was around...". Then that date is all important and inflexible. I meant to fudge it by a couple of days this time, but I forgot to.

Anyway all had been going well up until this appointment. I was really tired because we'd driven to the airport the night before to pick up my mother-in-law rather late and the appointment was rather early. The nurse took my blood pressure and it was high. She waited a few minutes and took it again. It was still high. When Danette, the midwife, came in she did the regular stuff and then took it again. It was still high. My cervix had not started dilating so it was not favorable for induction. I didn't have protein in my urine or any other symptoms of preeclampsia, but it's not something to mess with. It's the number one cause of maternal death. So she ordered a non stress test, which consists of me sitting still with a fetal monitor on to see how the baby is doing. At first she wasn't doing anything and Danette was worried and called the hospital about me coming over to be induced, but they gave me some food and the baby woke up and starting moving. She seemed to be doing fine, so Danette told me to stay on bed rest over the weekend and come in on Monday. She also told me to buy a blood pressure monitor and check it at home, and call if it got too high.

I laid on my side pretty much all weekend, and my blood pressure was fine. On Monday, Schuyler went with me to my appointment just in case, but we expected everything to be normal and them to say it was probably just caused by me being so tired. Nope, my blood pressure was high at the office even though it had been fine that morning at home. I saw Kathy, the other midwife. She said the since I was at my due date, and now dilated one cm, I should go to the hospital right away and start the induction process. She stripped my membranes, which hurt, but I was really hoping it would work and I would not need Pitocin in the morning. It was about 1pm and she said if we went straight to the hospital (which was across the street) I could get a Misoprostol pill at 2pm and then a second at 6pm and a third at 10pm and get a sleeping pill then so that I could get some sleep before they started Pitocin at 6am. She said that sometimes the Misoprostol pill works on it's own and that is what I was hoping for.

We went to the hospital right then, but it took them a long time to get me checked in and I didn't get my first pill until after 3pm. Schuyler hung out with me a little then went home to get our stuff and to tell Levi and Judy (my mother-in-law) what was up. He asked Levi if he wanted to come to the hospital to visit me, and Levi started crying. He was worried that he would have to watch the birth and Schuyler was able to convince him that I wouldn't have the baby while he was there. So they all came to visit. Levi seemed really uncomfortable and stressed out while he was there. Poor kid. I shouldn't have let him watch that one episode of A Baby Story.

On the way to the hospital we were discussing names for the baby and we were both pretty sure that her name would be Ivy. It's such a cute name.

I met a lot of different labor and delivery nurses while I was at the hospital. They seem to come in two types. One group, which is the majority, acts as though their most important job is to take care of the patients. And they are mostly really good at it. They made me feel more comfortable and able. The second, much smaller group, acts as though their most important job is to enforce the rules. They made me feel like a naughty child, which made me feel much less capable of giving birth. I really appreciate those good nurses, they made all the difference.

One all important rule at this hospital was NO FOOD. No liquids either, only ice chips for laboring mothers. I had asked my midwife about this at my very first visit. She gave me permission to eat whatever I wanted. But my midwife wasn't at the hospital with me most of the time, and the nurses were quite strict on this. I wasn't in labor the first night, so I was allowed to eat, but I was told MANY times that I could have absolutely nothing to eat after midnight. This seems crazy to me. I was being induced. I would wake up hungry and not in labor yet and not be allowed to eat. How was I supposed to have the energy to have a baby? And I drink a lot of water normally. Ice chips are not enough. One nurse even stopped Schuyler from going to get food for me that night and made him wait while she checked my chart to see if it was allowed. She couldn't just take our word for it that we knew I wasn't actually in labor yet. I'm still angry about that. She made me feel so small.

Anyway, Schuyler and I mostly just hung out that night. We watched a movie and played a little cribbage. I talked to Stacy on the phone and she was very encouraging. They brought me my third pill rather late at night (12 or so I think) and I asked if I could have half a sleeping pill rather than the whole thing because they affect me strongly. She said she would go check and she actually had to call and wake up my midwife to ask her. I feel kind of bad about that. Schuyler stayed with me that night.

They woke me up at 6am and reminded me not to eat or drink anything. I agreed and then just cheated when they weren't in the room. I didn't want to argue with them. I brought an outfit to wear rather than a hospital gown. When I told the nurse that, her response was "Is this your first baby?" I told her that it wasn't and that I knew my clothes would get ruined and she said that was fine then. But when they started the IV they told me that once they started it, I wouldn't be able to get my shirt off, so I wore the gown with my skirt under it. That worked out great because I could walk around without showing off my butt. I got lots of compliments on it from the nurses.

I hate IVs. It took them three tries to get it and those spots were sore for a couple of days. Not as sore as other parts of my body though :) Danette came in later that morning and told the nurses I was allowed to eat (yay!) They seemed fine with it then, they really were nice, I guess they just didn't want to get in trouble. The hospital was really busy that day (I had the last available room, it had no window). So, I didn't see much of Danette and the nurses that came in were always different. Even when there wasn't a shift change, I'd get a lot of different women coming in covering for my nurse. They mostly came in for a few minutes to look at the fetal moniter and increase my pitocin. Sometimes they asked about my pain level first and sometimes they just increased it and left. Schuyler and I were mostly alone the whole time. He was wonderful and very supportive.

Before the contractions really started hurting we hung out and watched another movie. The intensity increased pretty steadily. I was kind of groggy from the sleeping pill and I wanted to see if I could sleep a little. Danette came in and checked me. It was a little before noon. I'm having a hard time remembering, but I think I was 3 or 4 cm dilated. She said we should break my water and things would go more quickly. I said I would like to see if I could take a nap first and she said that was fine and she would come back in a bit. So I slept in bits and pieces for awhile, sleeping in between contractions and waking up during them. They were getting more and more painful and after awhile I couldn't lay in bed during them anymore. So I got up and sat on a labor ball. I did fine like that for awhile, rocking my hips during contractions. After that they were too strong to sit during, so I sat on the ball between and stood up with Schuyler's support during. They kept coming in and increasing my pitocin during all this. The contractions were getting worse and I thought about getting in the tub, but I was kind of waiting for Danette to come back first in case she wanted to break my water, but she was with someone else who was having a baby. I wanted some distraction so we went for a walk around the hall. I had a remote fetal monitor and my IV was wheeled. We walked around the halls a few times, stopping to sort of dance during contractions. I was pretty much the only patient out there, but I was grateful for my skirt.
After awhile I couldn't handle that anymore and we went back to the room and I asked the nurse if I could go ahead and get in the bath. She started the water for me and said she would come back and help me in. I had a swimsuit top so I put that on and got in without waiting for her to come back. The monitor worked alright in the tub, but someone kept having to come adjust it because it was cutting out. They would come in, adjust it and leave. Or increase my pitocin and then leave. They were very busy and bustling. They didn't offer much in the way of support, but that was okay because Schuyler was very calm and reassuring and supportive. The contractions had become very painful, but the water helped some. I cried a little and so did Schuyler, but mostly I concentrated on relaxing for the short time in between them. At one point I halfheartedly asked about an epidural and Schuyler asked if I was sure. I just didn't respond and he let it go. (Ahead of time I had instructed him that if I wanted one, he should remind me that I would also need a catheter. I had both with Levi, and I hate catheters. And that if I still wanted one he should go make sure I got one). I was in a lot of pain and I hoped I was in transition and I was worried that I wasn't actually that far in because I wasn't shaking much and with Levi I shook like a leaf. At that point a wonderful nurse named Laura came in and actually talked to me. She asked how I was and said some very encouraging things about how great I was doing. And she decreased my pitocin. Danette came in almost at the same time and Laura said, "I think you should check her, she sounds like she's transitioning." So Danette said she'd check me in the bath. I thought that if I wasn't in transition I would probably die. She checked me and I was 9cm. So they said I should get out of the bath and the three of them helped me get out. They helped me into a gown and got me on the bed. There were two other women in the room then, but I don't remember them at all. One was getting things ready for birthing and was there to whisk away dirty things and bring clean things, and one was getting things ready for a baby. I had Laura on one side with her head right by mine saying encouraging things and Schuyler on the other side also saying encouraging things. They were both amazing. Danette was wonderful too. She kept saying, "Listen to your body and push when you're ready". They called me Marguerite at first, but Schuyler told them to call me Maggie and they did. That was nice. My first push was tentative because it hurt like hell and I was afraid. Danette said, "Maggie, we need to get the baby out. Her heart rate is dropping." She saw that that really freaked me out, and then she said, "That's normal, don't worry. She's fine, but you need to push." So I relaxed a little but was more determined and pushed much harder. I don't know how many pushes it was. It seemed like hundreds, but could have been as little as 5. Giving birth hurts a lot. In between pushes I chanted 'baby,baby,baby' like a mantra. They encouraged me in that. During pushes I was rather loud. You wouldn't really call it screaming, since that's high pitched. It was more like roaring. They gave me a mirror to watch. Then her head was out. The shoulders were next and they were hard too. And then she was out. Then held her up and she was beautiful. I'm crying as I write this. She looked so solid and lovely and somehow graceful and one of the first things I thought was, "Ivy is not that girl's name." She seemed too dignified or something. They gave her to me and I put her to the breast and she nursed like a champ. Both sides. Everyone was very impressed. They said they usually shoot for 5 minutes right at first but she just kept chugging away. Schuyler cut the cord. They weighed her and all the nurses in the room shot out guesses. No one guessed under 7 and a half. She was only 6# 13oz. But she looked so solid and healthy that she seemed bigger.
I birthed the placenta. It's funny because you do still have to push to get the placenta out and at the time it seems so easy because it is so much easier than the baby, but I bet if you had to do it all by itself you would think it was really hard.
Danette checked me for tears. My perineum was fine, but I had a couple of tears inside from the baby's shoulders. One needed stitched.
In between being infatuated with my new baby and grateful to Laura and Danette and Schuyler, I kept thinking, "holy shit, that was hard, labor is really freaking difficult".
Laura told me that it was only 20 minutes from the time she got there until the baby was born. I didn't believe her. I thought it was at least an hour, maybe 2. But we checked our playlist to see which songs we had been on and she was about right. She was born during a string quartet version of a Radiohead song.
Everybody was so happy and friendly during that time right after she was born. I wanted to hug and kiss Laura and Danette, they were so wonderful. Laura had been called in away from her baby because they were so busy and she said this was a wonderful way to start her shift, coming in and delivering a baby right away. She was friendly and bubbly. She said, "it happened so fast, we didn't even get time to bond" I wanted to say, "I felt like we bonded. I want you to stay and hold my hand," but I just smiled.
They said that there weren't any postpartem rooms left, that I would be staying there in the labor and delivery ward and I was glad because then I would have Laura be my nurse for awhile. But a room opened up and they moved me. I wanted to tell Laura how great she was, but she was rather cheerful and talkative so I didn't get to say much to either her or Danette other than "thank you".
After that things were pretty run of the mill. Adah didn't sleep real well in her bassinet and she was not allowed to sleep with me. I let her sleep with me some and I would wake up when anyone came in and pretend that I was not asleep. Levi and Judy visited us right away and Levi was happy and excited and jumped all over everything and drove Schuyler a little crazy. Malissa and Cory came by and brought us taco bell. I ate hospital food and it wasn't great. I discovered that I could send Schuyler to the store cupboard and he could bring me things like ice cream and that was better. The nurses were mostly very sweet and concerned with my recovery. I made no calls the first day. I made Schuyler call everyone. When he was talking to his sister, who is pregnant with her first, I almost said, "tell her to get the epidural," but I didn't. I'm mostly glad I did it without pain relief. I recovered faster and I think those first moments were better. I told Schuyler that I didn't feel any kind of empowerment from it, but I do feel proud of myself and that's something. Also, in those first few days, the pain and difficulty were still fresh in my mind, so whenever something was hard, like painful breastfeeding, or not being able to sit, or just being tired, I kept thinking, "this is so much easier than giving birth" and that actually helped.
We decided to name her Adah because the name just fit her. We knew right away, but we had to decide whether it should be Ada or Adah. It just seemed better with the h. More down to earth or something. Then we had to decide on a middle name. It was between Pascale and Marlene. Marlene is my grandma's name and I liked that it would make the name less fancy. St. Lawrence is a little overbearing sometimes. But Pascale seemed to fit better and that's what we chose. Adah Pascale St. Lawrence born at 3:38pm March 24, 2009. My daughter.

Stains

2009-05-13T13:25:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I grabbed a clean shirt and put it on only to notice that it had a big breast milk stain right where one would expect such a stain to be. I can't wear a shirt with a breast milk stain, which is actually kind of surprising because I wear stained clothes all the time. Spit-up stains, food stains, even baby poop stains, don't really bother me. There is something extra embarrassing about breast milk stains. It's kind of like period stains. Then I started wondering why these particularly feminine stains are so embarrassing, almost shameful. It reminded me of how people seem to think discussing male parts is hilarious good fun, but if you say the word cervix in mixed company people will look at you like you're describing vivisection. So my feminist hackles were slightly raised, but I still didn't want to wear the shirt. So I put on my triathlon shirt, and that made me feel a little better.

In other news, here is a picture of me with the kids. (I like saying 'the kids' now that I have two.) I believe there is a little spit-up on my shirt.

I did it!

2009-04-03T15:21:00.001-05:00

Adah is 10 days old today and I was on my own. Levi made it to school with food in his stomach and his teeth brushed and I picked him up on time. I even took a shower! Go me!

I love my boy

2009-03-10T13:38:00.002-05:00

Today, Levi came up to me, lifted up my shirt and gave my giant belly a huge hug. He looked so sweet. I said to him, "When Daddy gets home we should have him take a picture of you hugging my belly."
He said, "Why?"
I said, "So I can remember it forever. This baby will be here really soon."
He got a huge smile on his face and then said, "Yeah! And then we can take a picture of a rock monster being shot off a catapult!"

What's in a Name?

2009-02-13T18:01:00.002-05:00

Choosing a name for a baby seems like such a huge responsibility. She's going to be called that forever. Our favorite names change pretty much every week. Right now, though, I really love the name Ivy. Schuyler likes it too. The problem is that Levi and Ivy sounds pretty cutesy and precious. It's kind of Levi backwards, without the L. That's a major deal breaker for Schuyler, but I'm not sure. Also disturbing is the look of this trend. We don't want to end up with a really popular and trendy name. So what do you think, keeping in mind that we don't really like cutesy, precious things?

Fuzzibunz giveaway

2009-02-13T16:07:00.001-05:00

I stumbled across a blog called Annie's Home and she is holding a giveaway for a one size fuzzibunz. Here's the giveaway. I'm so excited about this cloth diapering adventure.

A pretty day

2009-02-06T16:20:00.002-05:00

So today is one of those sunny days that has everyone smiling and commenting to each other on how nice it is. Levi played outside after school with his friends for 45 minutes. It was warm and nice for playing. Here's the thing, though. The high today was 31. I guess you just get used to it.

I'm getting so excited!

2009-02-03T17:13:00.003-05:00

This baby keeps getting closer and closer. Just 7 more weeks, and the time is really flying. I am really getting excited.

I'm planning on cloth diapering this time and I am really excited about it. I'm kind of getting obsessed with all the adorable options there are. It's way different than it was when my mom did it. If anyone that reads this does it, I'd love your advice.

I've been entering giveaways to try and win some fancy cloth diapers. So far no luck, I'm going to have to buy what I can.

The cloth diaper whisperer has giveaways every week and I really really want to win this week. Here's the link to their giveaway.

Piece of Me is giving away some Fuzzi Bunz. Here's the link to their giveaway.

Cloth baby planet is giving away a tiny tush diaper. Here's the link to their giveaway.

Yeah, I get extra entries for blogging about the giveaways, but I am really excited about this whole cloth diapering adventure in general, and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

What do you think?

2008-11-25T14:10:00.002-05:00

Is it okay to let a 5 year old have a nonalcoholic beer if he asks for one?

What if he's having trouble keeping anything down and you can't get him to drink enough water? Then is it okay?

It's largely water, right? and has some calories, right? right? Oh man, I'm a terrible mother.

On Having a Girl

2008-11-15T15:34:00.002-05:00

I'm thrilled to be having a girl, because now I will have a complete collection, but there are a lot of issues that come with having a girl, and I'm getting a little freaked out.
When I was pregnant with Levi, I was worried about having a boy, because I didn't know anything about boys. I was a girl at one time, so I had some understanding of that. Now, it's the opposite. I feel good about raising Levi. I don't know how to raise a girl.
I was at a birthday party for two of Levi's friends from school (twins, a boy and a girl) recently. They were turning 6. I watched them open their presents, sort of, it was a little chaotic. But every time the little girl opened a barbie or a bratz doll, I felt panicky. I wanted to put my arms around my stomach and run off and live in the woods. The little boy didn't open anything I might consider offensive, no guns or violent toys. No muscley gi joes. He got cars and building toys.
I was looking at a toy catalog recently. The boy pages had toys that I thought looked really fun. A lot of them were sciency. The girl pages had fairies and flowers and dolls and play pots and pans. Everything was pink. I realize I can buy things for a girl in the "boy" pages, but wtf is this about? This is 2008. Aren't our daughters supposed to be empowered and taught to be smart and independent, like our sons? Do we really think these toy choices don't matter?
I was at a halloween party that included several 12 year old girls. Two of them had costumes that were rather obscene. When I was that age, I would have had to go to a store called something like "Lover's Package" to buy a costume like that. And they certainly didn't come in child's sizes. I thought things were supposed to be getting better for women/girls.
I remember looking for clothes for Levi and thinking that they made tons of cute clothes for girls, but boys clothes were boring. Recently I looked at baby girl clothes and everything was pink, pink, pink, pink. And sparkly. Do I have to dress my daughter that way before she even has a say? I have no problem giving in to princess wear when she's older, but really? as an infant?

I'm getting ready for having a girl by reading books about raising girls, because that's what I do. I read. I've read lots of books about raising boys.

Aside: The only book about raising boys that I would really really recommend is Raising Cain: Protecting the Emotional Life of Boys by Dan Kindlon and Michael Thompson. I would recommend that everyone read it, not just the parents of boys. The main reason that it is so much better than the others is that it deals with individuals rather than averages. It is not about the inherent differences between boys and girls, because those are often not true on an individual basis. It is more about the unique experience that boys have in our culture. One of the other books actually said (paraphrase), "Boys don't hear as well as girls, so make sure you talk loudly to your son." Seriously? Just because the average girl has slightly better hearing than the average boy does not mean one has to shout when talking to a male person. This book doesn't generally pull that crap.

I find that sometimes the books about boys and the books about girls seem to be contradictory. The book about boys will say things like 'school favors girls and shortchanges boys', then go on to explain why this is true. The book about girls will say 'school favors boys and shortchanges girls' and then go on the explain why this is true. I think they're both right. Our schools shortchange both boys and girls in different ways. I think it's important to be aware of those ways and to keep the dialogue going about it. In no way does it have to be about boys against girls or helping one group at the expense of the other. Both sexes should be able to have a healthy school experience and I don't think that those two healthy experiences need to be separate or are in any way mutually exclusive.

I started reading Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls by Mary Pipher. It is more about teenage girls, but it is a classic and I had to read it. I'm only about a quarter into it, but it is very well written. I would recommend it so far. Like the book about boys above, it is more about the experience that girls in our culture share than about differences between average girls and average boys. But it was published in 1994. I wonder if things are worse now or better. There are some major differences. The internet, for one. And halloween costumes, for sure.
One thing that particularly interests me about the book, is that while she says that things are different "now" from "when we were kids", the book was published when I was in 8th or 9th grade. So I can directly compare and contrast my experience with the experiences of the girls in her book. Sex and drugs and alcohol were not really present in my middle school the way that they are for her girls, but the harassment was there to a lesser extent. I was teased and harassed for developing breasts early, but not grabbed. Alcohol and sex were a bigger deal in my high school, but not necessarily for everyone. But I want to be careful not to generalize the level of temptation I felt even to include the rest of my class. Because teenagers are extremely self centered and I doubt I paid much attention to what other people were going through. One thing the book mentioned is that sometimes this transition can be hardest for smart girls. I think that was true for me. As a child I was proud of being smart and doing well in school. I quickly learned to hide that in middle school. As I entered 9th grade, I was smart enough to realize that I was going to be judged largely on my looks, and smart enough to realize that that was stupid, but not mature enough to sort that out and stand on my own. So I struggled with it. One example: in 10th grade, at 5 foot 3 and half or so, I weighed about 130. That's a BMI of 23. Normal. I decided to get skinny. I lost 25 lbs in a short amount of time. I was underweight on the BMI scale, but not dangerously so. I got a lot of compliments from my adult relatives about the weight I'd lost and how good I looked. I was thrilled, of course, but I was also sort of a feminist and in the back of my mind I was appalled that the adults weren't more worried about my self image. I was on antidepressants in high school and regularly saw a psychiatrist. I was polite and agreeable with her. I didn't really open up. I told her I was fine. She asked me every week whether I had a boyfriend. She seemed concerned when the answer was no. She said things like, "you're so pretty, you should have no problems getting a boyfriend". I didn't really care whether I had a boyfriend. I saw that she was trying to make me feel good about myself, I thought it was stupid, I went along with it to be nice. I said thank you. I got out of there as quick as I could.
I'd been through health and sex ed and various girl power education. I'd learned to be careful about eating disorders and that girls can be as smart as boys and that looks didn't matter as much as what was inside. But I was smart enough to see too that a lot of that was bullshit. That even the adults that spewed that rhetoric were judging me by my looks. How is someone who is not a well adjusted adult supposed to deal with that kind of juxtaposition? How are they supposed to learn to respect themselves? I did learn eventually, over time, and I suppose I'm still learning.
I really really don't want my little baby girl to go through all that, but I know she's going to have to and that there is only so much that I can do to protect her. I'm terrified.

On the Election

2008-11-07T19:51:00.003-05:00

I'm absolutely thrilled about the results of this election. Not because I believe that Obama is some kind of messiah that will magically fix everything that's wrong with this country. I don't think that. I don't even think he'll do everything he said he will, no politician does. I have several reasons though for being thrilled about these results.

For one, he's black. I've heard a lot of people say this election was not and is not about race. Some of them seem offended even at the celebration of our first black president. I think that's silly. Of course it's about race. The fact that he's black is not why he won, or why he deserved to win, or why I voted for him. But it's huge for this country. We cannot be so quick to forget our history. Our recent history even. The fact that we elected a black man to lead us is amazing and wonderful. It's a gigantic milestone in our history. Parents of black children can really honestly tell their kids that they can be whatever they want to in this country. They can look up to this man and believe it. I feel so proud of our country because of it. I really honestly doubted that our country would be able to elect a black president. I'm proud that people were able to see through attacks on his background and vote for him because they thought he was the best candidate. I hope that even those who voted for McCain can celebrate this moment in our history.

I voted for Obama because I tended to agree with more of his policies and opinions than with McCain's, and because I respected his campaign tactics more, and because I would be terrified at the prospect of Sarah Palin becoming president, but those are not the reasons I'm feeling proud and excited.

I'm excited about the prospect of an Obama presidency. I think he's a great man. (to be clear though, I think McCain is a great man too, or was at one time, but he made it hard to continue to respect him) I'm being careful not to expect too much out of Obama. I know that he's a politician. As Schuyler puts it, I'm "cautiously optimistic". But after all we've gone through with the last administration, I'm really ready for some actual change and I think that most of America is as well. Beyond being a great man, Obama seems like a really good man, and a thoughtful man, and that means a lot to me too. I have a lot of hope that even if I don't agree with him on everything (see the FISA bill and war with Iran), Obama will be making decisions from the heart, based on what he thinks is right for this country, and after giving it a lot of careful thought. Maybe I'm being naive about that, but I've got a good feeling about it.

Everything's Coming Up Roses

2008-11-07T19:42:00.002-05:00

(I mean that to be a really good thing, but I suppose it would be annoying if you'd planted vegetables.)

Anyway, a lot of things seem to be going right and I'm feeling extremely happy. Liz got a job (congratulations btw!), we elected our first black president, I'm having a little girl and I found out today that my friend Heather is pregnant. She had one failed round of IVF and this was her last chance. Also my mom has what she calls "a real grown up job" and is finally making enough to actually live on. And my sister was able to move to Seattle. I think I'm going to be able to say that 2008 was a good year.

The downside to feeling so happy though, is that I'm not enjoying my favorite music as much. Wilco and The National are what I'd been listening to a lot. They're still great, but the lyrics just don't give me that full heart feeling they do when I'm feeling sad, yet hopeful like I'm used to feeling. That's okay. It's prolly worth it.

Baby on the Way

2008-09-11T13:19:00.002-05:00

I'm pregnant! I had my 12 week appointment today and heard a little heartbeat. Everything looks good and I'm relieved and excited. Levi is very excited too. He told me, "now I love you as much as I love Daddy, because you're pregnant". I guess that's nice. He likes to 'give my belly loves' as he calls it. That really is nice.

I Was Worried that He Would Break my Heart, But I Didn't Think it'd be this Soon

2008-07-09T22:41:00.002-05:00

So the FISA bill passed and Obama voted yes on it. That makes me cry a little. I guess my hopes were just too high.

I can think of three reasons he might've had for voting yes.

1. He didn't want people to say that he's weak on terror. He thought that that was the most electable response. It's all part of the game. It's okay to sacrifice a principle or two in order to get elected.

2. He gets a lot of money from the telecom companies.

3. He really believed that voting yes was the right thing to do. He is a big believer in the power of compromise. Everything in his statement is honest and sincere. He thinks that this is the best thing for our country right now.

I am having a really hard time believing that number 3 could be true. I wish I could believe it. Some of the reasons that I can't include: my feelings on the subject, Obama's own past statements on the subject, the votes of Hilary Clinton and others against it, and the biggest: there is no way that he could actually believe that, had this bill failed, the Republicans would've simply let FISA expire and stopped all wiretapping. His statement says that he thought that this compromise would be better than having no wiretapping. Seriously? He thinks that would've happened if the bill failed? I can't buy that.

So, for now I'm simply hoping to God that number 2 has NOTHING to do with it and resigning myself to number 1. I must've known it on some level, but I'm still saddened to learn that he's nothing more than another politician. The only change that will be effected should he win the presidency is the change it's reasonable to expect when an average politician takes over from an evil one. I'm teaching myself to harden my heart, to be more cynical and more disillusioned. Having illusions is a bad thing, right?

What would you do?

2008-07-08T09:22:00.002-05:00

I have a small dilemma that is completely insignificant in the scope of things. But maybe you can help me. My friend's daughter is turning eight this weekend and we are going to her birthday party. I don't know what to buy for her present. If you ask either her or her mother what she wants, it's "Bratz and Webkinz", and only "Bratz and Webkinz". I object heartily to Bratz. I find them extremely offensive. As for Webkinz, I don't find them offensive, only a little stupid. And I really don't understand the point of owning more than one, when their real appeal is not the animal, but the login that comes with it. And she already has 4 or something. On the other hand, I also don't approve of judging other people's parenting decisions or trying to parent for them. I think that's misguided at best.
But, maybe not wanting to buy something that I don't like isn't quite the same as disapproving of a parent buying it. (Which I try to avoid mostly by not thinking about it. That works pretty well). Also, isn't making the child happy on her birthday more important than my silly scruples? I don't really mind being the boring one that always buys books and board games for the kids, but I wonder if my priorities are wrong here. Anyways, assuming that you felt the same as I do (and it's okay if you don't irl), and assuming that anyone still reads this, what would you do?

A Dream

2008-05-23T10:41:00.002-05:00

I had a dream last night about angels. Is that the same as an angel appearing to me in a dream? Anyway, I dreamed that an angel told me that the earth is going through a dark period right now what with climate change and natural disasters and war and such. He told me that when these dark periods happen most of the angels stop coming to earth because they'd rather just avoid it when things are bad. But he said not to worry, because those angels never did much anyway. He said that there are some selfless angels that like hard work and love to help and make a difference in spite of how much sadness they'll be exposed to and that they will always come when times are bad.

I guess that's comforting.

A Pledge

2008-04-08T15:54:00.003-05:00

In an effort not to be so wasteful of resources, I've decided not to buy new clothes for myself anymore. I will only buy used. There are plenty of good used clothes available, so there's not a good reason why I should keep buying new stuff. Of course, not being as cool as I'd like to be, I'm making quite a few exceptions. These include:
undergarments and socks
bridesmaids dresses
stuff bought while mystery shopping
things that I have a need for (like warm gloves etc) that I've made an effort to find used but been unsuccessful.

Maybe I'll save enough money that when I do need to buy something that's new, I'll be able to afford to buy it from a more environmentally responsible company.

On another note, I need to share a conversation I overheard among the other preschool moms because I'm not a good enough person to keep my indignation to myself.
One of the moms recently traded in her Suburban for an Explorer and was sad to have to switch to such a small car. The other mom, who has one child and drives a huge Lincoln Navigator said, "They just don't make a car big enough for when you have kids. Once you get the kid and the dog and the groceries in it, that thing is full."
This is a mom that I like, and her son is Levi's friend, and I feel bad, but c'mon! Seriously? She has the third-stupidest huge wasteful car made, how much groceries does she buy at a time? And why does she take the dog to the grocery store?
I guess it's a cultural difference between here and where I wish I lived. I should try not to be judgemental of other cultures.

What lovely weather we have here

2008-03-24T12:59:00.002-05:00

Just for fun, here's a comparison of the weather forecasts (from weather.com) for tomorrow in the places Schuyler and I have lived together:

1. Yakima, WA: Some sun in the morning with increasing clouds in the afternoon. High 51F. Winds WSW at 10 to 20mph.

2. Seattle, WA: Rain showers in the morning will evolve into a more steady rain in the afternoon. High 49F. Winds south at 10 to 20mph. Chance of rain 70%.

3. Moses Lake, WA: Mostly cloudy skies. High 52F. Winds SW at 10 to 15mph.

4. Washington DC: Generally Sunny. High near 55F. NNW winds shifting to S at 10 to 15mph.

5. Shelby Township, MI: Windy. Snow during the morning will give way to a mixture of rain and snow during the afternoon. High around 40F. Winds SSW at 25 to 35 miles per hour. Chance of precip. 80%. Snow accumulating 1 to 3 inches. Winds could occasionally gust over 40 mph.

What the heck, Michigan? Why does your weather have to be so bad? Washington is further north than you, so that's not a good excuse.

Evil is Being Done in Our Names

2008-02-07T13:04:00.000-05:00

I was thinking of coming here and telling you how Schuyler and I shoveled snow for a combined 4 hours this morning and that I still have an hour or so of shoveling to do and how I hate Michigan. Then I sat down at the computer, clicked a bookmark for reddit and saw this picture. I changed my mind about what to write here, once I stopped sobbing. This is our fault. All of us. What are we doing to stop this? This is wrong. And we are doing nothing about it. It is all happening in our names and we let it. We are terrified that our kids might be exposed to lead tainted toys or that they might be kidnapped if we let them walk home from school. Meanwhile someone else's kids are being killed because of our presence in their country. A majority of Americans are against the war, but a majority of Americans are not voting for candidates that will end the war. Why the hell not? If you voted for (or are planning on voting for) McCain, Romney, Huckabee or even Clinton, please reexamine your priorities. Why did you cast that vote, and is it really worth it? On top of voting for an anti-war candidate, I feel like we should do more. I guess we should protest and make sure that they know we want it to stop, but that doesn't feel like enough. If it was our kids dying, we'd have a revolution, I don't think that's what we should do now, but when? At what point does it become appropriate? Is there something in between?

If you're angry or offended by what I've written, go ahead and let it out in the comments. Don't hold back. I can take it. I want to hear it.

Life's Not Fair

2008-01-30T14:55:00.000-05:00

I read this article today and it made me really depressed. People in Haiti are making cookies out of mud because they can't afford food on $2 a day any more. God, that makes me feel like crap. Here I am, on a freaking diet because I'm one of those fat americans people are always talking about. Sitting in my warm house at my computer wishing I could afford one of those iRobot Scooba things that mop the floor so that I don't have to do it. And, what makes it even stupider is that I have credit cards, so if I really wanted to, I could buy 50 of those stupid floor cleaners. And I don't even think Haiti is one of those countries you hear about that we try to help but the corrupt government keeps the aid from getting to the people. There might be more food in my trash can right now than one of those people will eat today. That just really fucking sucks.

I'm sorry about the expletive, but I think it was appropriate here.

My Vote

2008-01-25T16:05:00.000-05:00

I voted in the Michigan primary on January 15. Michigan has an open primary, where one need not register under a party and one can vote in either the Republican or the Democratic primary, but not both. The Democratic National Comittee decided not to count Michigan because Michigan broke rules by scheduling the primary too early. So, I decided to vote in the Republican primary. This video from last night's debate sums up, in a nutshell, why I voted for Ron Paul.

Bah Humbug

2007-12-07T14:31:00.000-05:00

In an attempt to buy less meaningless crap this Christmas I'm been browsing some fair trade and human rights-type websites for my Christmas shopping. While I realize that the point of this is not to make me feel good, man does it make me feel crappy. Would I really rather buy this jewelry for a relative than the things they offer as alternatives like High efficiency stoves for Darfur refugees or help for cyclone victims in Bangladesh? Seriously? What the hell is wrong with me?

Sometimes it's hard to be a mom

2007-11-30T12:45:00.000-05:00

Levi is going to school in the afternoons now and he absolutely loves it. He loves being with the other kids and learning lots of new things. He is obsessed with the planets now. He loves to tell me all about them including which ones are gaseous. He likes to name them all in order. Including Pluto. We tried to tell him that Pluto isn't a planet, but he doesn't believe us. He learned it at school, so how could it be wrong? This worries me a little. I'm not worried that he'll grow up forever believing that Pluto is a planet, but I'm worried at how impressionable he is and how little I really know about what he's learning at school. I've made the decision to trust the school with my child, and I still think it's a good decision, but it has me worried. I hardly know his teacher at all. As kids move up through the grades, it's not like we interview their new teachers every year to make sure that their philosophies mesh with ours or that they will be good matches with our children. We all know that a really good teacher can make a difference for the rest of a child's life, but would a really bad teacher make that kind of difference too? Especially early on when kids are just getting to know school and deciding if they like it and if they are good at it? It does worry me. For now I'll watch him closely and try not to worry while he's happy and liking school. As time goes on we'll try to strike a balance between instilling a healthy mistrust of authority while still teaching him to be respectful. This whole school business is worrying and confusing.

In other news, Levi had an accident last night while we were sleeping. I got him up and took off his wet clothes and took him into the bathroom. He was so upset. He sobbed and asked, "Why did this happen?" He didn't seem to be looking for an answer, really. I comforted him and put dry clothes on him and put him in bed. My heart broke a little as I wondered how many more times in his life he'll ask that question.

On Politics

2007-11-07T16:01:00.000-05:00

I've tried several of those sites that ask you questions about your political opinions and then tell you which candidates match you best. I like this one best. It lets you choose undecided and assign a priority level to things. Plus it has more of the basic questions. And not the sound bite type questions.

Can you guess who it gave me though?

1. Dennis Kucinich (90.48% match)
2. Mike Gravel (88.1% match)
3. Ron Paul (72.62% match)

I had almost no match with Mitt Romney or Guiliani so that's comforting.
All three of my candidates are considered to be loonies I think. I guess my political views are not mainstream. I doubt I will get a chance to cast a vote for one of them.

I'm fairly interested in Ron Paul. He seems to have a big internet following but also seems to be being largely ignored in the mainstream media. I disagree with a lot of the things he says, but I think I might vote for him anyway given the chance. (not that I will be given the chance). I sort of think that things I disagree with would be worth it to get us not only out of Iraq, but get our military out of the rest of the world and stop our Imperialism. It also seems that we are descending into some sort of fascist police state and he seems wholly able to derail that. I'm also sick of overly pragmatic politicians like Hillary that don't seem as if they even have real opinions. They say what they think we want to hear. Ron Paul is really standing by what he says. And he seems to have given it a lot of real thought. What thinkest thou?

I Made It

2007-10-09T12:24:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm 28 now. I made it past 27. I didn't die like Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Robert Johnson, Kurt Cobain, Brian Jones, Louis Chauvin and Ron McKernan. Hmm.

It's Starting

2007-09-19T13:06:00.000-05:00

Levi came home from school with a fat envelope the other day and he didn't know what it was. I opened it up when we got home and found out that he's supposed to be selling stuff. Already?! He's not even 4 yet. I'm pretty annoyed. The thing he's selling is the 2008 Entertainment book. If that sounds like something you want, you can order one online and support his school. Go to www.fundraising.entertainment.com/support and use seller # 192070. That's about all the selling I'm willing to do.

Will

2007-09-11T12:10:00.001-05:00

I can't help this week but think of William Stavlund a lot. And if I could stop, I don't think I would. Remebering is a good thing. I think of him fairly often still. Sometimes I remember him with a pang when I see some little reminder. Like a Haberman feeder in an oral therapy catalogue. Sometimes I remember him fondly when I look at his sister. Often I remember him when I think about the way he changed my life. The life and death of that little boy changed me for good. I mean for good in both senses. It's going to be hard to explain. I think some people will be able to relate and some won't. Before Will died, nearly everything made sense. My world was obviously not perfect, but it was orderly. There was pattern and sense in it. It was neat. But it wasn't real. It was as if I was looking at a picture of the world. Much of it was beautiful, some of it was not, but it was ordered. The beautiful things were at the front and the ugly things were kept neatly in their places. When Will died, that picture was ripped beyond repair. I realized how unreal it was. The ugly things weren't, and had never been, neatly contained. That was hard at first. But when I finally picked myself up off the floor, I noticed something else. The beauty of the world was much better in real life than it had been in that picture. I had to be able to see the ugliness too, but the beauty that was there was astounding. And the first beautiful thing I was able to see when the picture was destroyed after Will's death, was his life. His life brought out beauty all around. It brought out good things in me. It brought out good things in people all around. There was astounding beauty in that and in the love and support I saw for his family, both before and after his death. There still continues to be beauty in that. I miss his parents and sister so much it makes my eyes water, but it is so beautiful to see the people still around them still supporting and loving them.
I continue to look at the world in a more real way. I haven't attempted to repair that picture, and it has made all the difference. There are some bad things happening in my family right now. Not with Schuyler and Levi, but with other parts of my family. This kind of thing has happened before, and it was much harder then. It was as if my carefully constructed world was falling apart. It was eventually mostly healed and I put my world back to together. It's different this time. I don't have that carefully constructed world. The world just is and I can see that more clearly now. It still hurts just as much. I don't want anyone to think that I have become emotionally dead or anything like that. It just doesn't reel me as much. I thank Will for that. I will continue to remember him for good.

Cities and Suburbanites

2007-06-16T14:36:00.000-05:00

A city has a soul, an essence, a personality. This is something that suburbanites don't seem to understand. The suburbs have no soul, unless it is a pale shadow of the city they build themselves around. DC has a dark essence of greed and power and ambition and classism, but also passion and idealism and inclusiveness and a blending of world cultures. The sides are constantly at odds but sometimes come together and blend in the middle. Young people move there hoping to change the world and get sucked into the political machine. But sometimes they still do change the world. Sometimes they don't lose their idealism. However difficult it is to put up with the dark sides of a city's soul, it is so much better than no soul at all. Even small towns have something. A personality. Even if it's common and not particularly interesting, it's there. I can understand that. I can understand wanting to live in those places that are safe and common and home, even if I would rather not. But I'm not sure I'll ever understand the appeal of the suburbs.
When a suburbanite asks me if I like it here, I usually say a number of things, one of which is something along the lines of "I don't really like the suburbs in general" or "I'm not really a suburbanite". Unless they are a city transplant, themselves, a poor soul who moved with a job or thought that it was their parental duty to be smothered in perfect domesticity, I usually lose them. They say "oh, so you're more of a big city person, huh?" and they seem to feel uncomfortable. Maybe they are picturing me going to operas and sophisticated parties and they feel small and unglamorous. Or maybe they are picturing me going to clubs and getting mugged at 3 in the morning and they are feeling smug. They think that I'm attracted to the city for the excitement and noise and lots of other people around. They don't understand that what I did in the city was pretty much the same as what I do here. There are of course advantages and disadvantages in what the city offers. The food is better and there is more culture, but the traffic is bad and parking is scarce. Those kinds of things are not the reason that I miss the city or why living in the suburbs makes me even more grumpy and cynical. It's the complete lack of personality. What is there to bond over? Everyone stays in their own homes and cars, tries with a large percentage of their energies to impress each other with their homes and their yards and their cars. And they complain that they don't know their neighbors and that their kids don't have the chance to wander about like they did and meet other kids. The crazy thing to me is that they are not different than me. They hate it here too. They hate having to keep their lawns impossibly green. They hate having to dress up to pick up the kids from school. They hate how deep in debt they are to afford the big house and nice cars. They want community. But they're stuck in their patterns of impressing one another and they don't have that unified city personality to bond over. They don't realize that there are other choices and other ways of life.
I don't know, I seem to be ranting, but it's a little soul crushing.

Due Date

2007-06-06T13:33:00.000-05:00

June 10 was supposed to be the day that our miscarried baby was due. That day is rapidly approaching. I don't know how I'll feel on that day, but I'm afraid of it. It gives me that feeling that I would get in school when a paper was due soon and I'd had months to work on it and I should be almost finished but I haven't even started. I'm dreading the day. I don't even know if I'll be sad. I don't know what I'm afraid of. It's kind of unconscious, or superconscious or something. I don't really feel sad about the miscarriage usually now. Schuyler does sometimes. Sometimes when I look at Levi and think about what a perfect age he is to have a new baby sister or brother that makes me a little sad. He asks me sometimes, "Mommy, why is your belly big?" I have to tell him "there's no babies in there, sweetie, it's just extra fat." Which is slightly damaging to my self esteem, but I know that he's just hoping we'll have a baby and he'd probably say that even if I had a flat stomach. He's going to be so old now if we ever have another child. But, I just need to remind myself, like I do with many other things, that this is who we are. This is what our family is. In the end, the pictures I have in my mind about what we ought to be come from tv and books and just aren't important. We are good parents and a happy family. I'm not June Cleaver and I don't want to be. Not really.

Back Online

2007-05-15T20:21:00.000-05:00

We got our internet connection going at our new house tonight and I'm doing some furious catching up on blogs and old emails. Maybe at some point I'll write something here. No promises.

Places and People

2007-03-22T14:17:00.000-05:00

I haven't blogged in a long time, and I feel bad, but what do I say? I miss you? duh. That's the understatement of the year. I really miss you. You keep showing up in my dreams. I had a dream the other night that Schuyler and Mick and I were hanging out at some bar talking. I had a dream last night that I was at some family reunion with my aunts and uncles and Mike and Stacy showed up and I flipped out. I was so happy to see them that I cried and screamed and stuff. I was in Seattle with Levi this past week for my dad's 50th birthday and part of me thought that I was going to be going home to DC at the end of it. I was really excited to see Schuyler when we got back, but it didn't feel right going home to Michigan.
Michigan is not too bad, it's really fine. The summers are supposed to be nice. People that are from here think it's the best place in the entire world. I guess it has that in common with Seattle. But really, c'mon, there is no comparison. I guess they haven't been to Seattle. I love it there. I always feel a sense of homecoming when I go there. I love how green everything is and how friendly the people are. And by the end of a week there, I start to smell like fish from eating so much of it. It does seem to be changing a little. Getting a little fussier and more pretentious. I hope that stops. Of course that could be because I spent the week in Kirkland. But, despite Seattle being the best place in the world, I'd rather be in DC. When it comes down to it, you can always visit the beautiful places. I'd rather live in Texas or South Carolina or Moses Lake with the Common Table Folks than in San Francisco, Portland or Seattle without them.

Release Date

2007-02-01T09:55:00.000-05:00

July 21st, 2007!

Christmas Vacation

2007-01-23T16:24:00.000-05:00

One of the things I really appreciate about my friends here in the area is that it's okay to be sad around them. Why is it so hard for most people to be around sad people? It's like they think that one is actually doing something wrong by being sad. I didn't even realize how good I had it here until we went home for Christmas.
When we were with my dad in Seattle my sister Rachel was really sad. Her mom had just died and it was Christmas time. Of course she was sad. But my dad was acting really weird about it. He was trying so hard to cheer her up. He lost both his parents pretty young, how could he not understand? I guess she is his baby, and it's hard for him to see her so sad, but it was hard to watch him try to cheer her up and to see how that was kind of hurting her.
At Schuyler's parents house, his brother had sent a cute photo book saying something along the lines of "2006 was a great year, here are some things that happened...". Schuyler said something like, "2006 was a pretty crappy year for us". You should have heard the shocked silence in the room. It was almost as if he'd said, "I don't really think God has been good to us". His sister finally asked, "why?" incredulously. Schuyler responded with "Well... it's mostly been the last 3 or 4 months. Our good friends' baby died, we had a miscarriage and Maggie's stepmom just died this week." They just said, "Oh", were quiet for a little while and then changed the subject. The Christmas thank you card that his mom sent, said, "I hope that you can see God's blessings in your lives in 2007". I know she means it and loves us, but still. Sometimes things are bad. Why isn't that okay to admit?
Then, the day after Christmas, we were at a gathering of my extended family. At these gatherings, everyone is cheerful and only really talks about the good things going on in their lives. That's kind of natural, as we only see each other every so often, but it was tiring for me. I wasn't feeling cheerful and was sick of talking about how interesting it is to live in our nation's capitol. My cousin's wife was pregnant, my aunt's first grandchild, and everyone was excited about that. I know it's stupid and selfish, but I felt really fat (I've gained some weight recently) and not pregnant. My aunt asked me if we were planning on having more soon and I said I didn't know. I hadn't slept well the night before and all of this just made me go hide in the bathroom and cry a little. My mom found me and asked what was wrong. I tried to explain and she said, "You shouldn't be sad, sweety, you're going to have babies." I got mad and tried to explain some more including about missing my friends, because it's okay to be sad with them. She said that I really need to find some happier friends to hang out that won't be bringing me down. I gave up trying to explain and just said that I was tired so she started going on about depression and how I "come by it naturally" etc. I let her chalk it all up to depression, which is something she understands and can therefore not get too worried about, because she wasn't interested in understanding, or even in just being with me while I'm sad. She just wanted to make it better.

What is the deal with that? Why is it so common? Sadness and difficult periods are fairly universal, why do people act like they are unacceptable? Or only unacceptable to acknowledge?

To be fair, not everyone back home was like that. My sister Leah and my oldest friend, Jennifer were great. Being with them was a bit of a relief in what was a tiring 10 days.
But I would like to thank all my friends here for being so awesome. It's really hard to find a friend that you can be sad with and I seem to have many of those here. Thanks.

Sad News

2006-12-21T12:45:00.000-05:00

It feels weird to post this right after my last post, but my dad just called me to tell me that my stepmom died today. She and my dad were divorced. He was pretty upset. It's strange for me because I didn't like her much, but of course it's sad. I really feel sad for my little sister Rachel who's mother she was. Rachel is 20. I also hope that my dad doesn't blame himself. I think he might. It's got to be very confusing for him. He's hated her for so long, but she is the mother of his youngest daughter. He cares about her more than anything. I don't know. It's all very sad and confusing. They aren't religious, but I'm sure my dad and sister could use your prayers if you get a chance.

We have a title!!!!!!!

2006-12-21T12:20:00.000-05:00

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Note: any spoilers of books whose movies have not been released yet will be deleted from the comments.

Another doctor

2006-12-15T13:57:00.000-05:00

This week Levi added yet another doctor to the list. This one was a pediatric urologist. Fortunately the appointment was short and the doctor basically just told us that everything is fine. Last Wednesday night, Levi woke up several times crying that his penis hurt. When I changed his diaper in the morning it was mostly dry. He was crying a lot and not peeing much at all. He did pee a little, but it just kind of leaked out. I called his pediatrician and got him an appointment with a resident for that afternoon. I thought it was a urinary tract infection. Schuyler thought Levi's bladder was in danger of bursting at any moment. It turns out that we both overreacted. But that day, while I was trying to comfort Levi and wait to take him to the doctor, I was so angry. Surprisingly angry. I am not an angry person and I don't usually get mad about these kinds of things. But I just thought, "What the hell? Doesn't this boy have enough problems? He has trouble eating and pooping already and now he's going to have trouble peeing too? That is just not fair." It seems silly now that nothing is wrong. I took him to Georgetown and he saw the resident. The resident said, "Well, it's really unusual for little boys to have UTIs, but chronic constipation and not being circumcised are risk factors so I'll just prescribe an antibiotic and you can go home. Let me check with Dr. Burke first." So he left and Dr. Burke came in and said, "No, it's not a UTI, if he had one he would have a fever and be vomiting." Wow, that's good to know. Given how we already reacted, I'm not sure we could've handled vomiting and fever. So she told us that it was just a localized infection in his penis and that we should treat it with neosporin. But she was worried about the fact that his foreskin had not retracted. And the opening seemed narrow to her. She said that they used to do something if it had not retracted by age 2, but now they just let it go and it will eventually retract on it's own. But, she likes to make small mountains out of molehills and said given the infection we may want to at least have it retracted and maybe have him circumcised. She made the appointment with the urologist. We managed to get a urine sample out him (no easy feat) and then went home. We went to the urologist prepared to argue against intervention as much as we could. But he was very kind and laid back and he told us that Levi's foreskin and opening are perfectly normal and we don't need to do anything. He said that sometimes it doesn't retract until puberty. He said that the pain was not even an infection, just an irritation. If it happens again, we don't even need to see the doctor. Neosporin again and a warm bath should take care of it. So, a fair amount of worry over nothing much. I'm glad that's the way it turned out. I hope Levi doesn't find this post when he's in high school.

More crap about my feelings

2006-11-21T15:57:00.000-05:00

I have a hard time talking about how I feel. I guess it just feels self-indulgent or something. But I think that my friends do want to know how I feel, so I'll just try to be honest and straightforward and not try to sound good.
I am feeling worlds better this week than I was last week. Last week was really hard for me. I don't think I handled it very well. It didn't feel like mourning so much as depression. I just wanted to lay on the floor and not ever get up. It was an unhealthy self-centered kind of sadness. Sometimes I felt like nobody cared about me and I cried about that. Sometimes I felt like people were too nice to me and I cried about that. I said that I felt lonely, and that's true, but it doesn't quite describe the feeling I had. I was desperate for affection. I just wanted someone to hug me and let me cry. A friend who found out about the miscarriage and how I was feeling from reading my blog called me and just said she loved me and cried. That was perfect. It helped. A family member sent a package with healing candle and "seeds of hope" for planting and a nice note. That helped too. A friend sent a long email. That helped too. My husband gave me lots of attention over the weekend and we cried together. That helped too. A friend who felt bad for not saying something last week called and talked to me. That helped too. Some friends came over yesterday and brought me a cake (my favorite kind) and just hung out. That helped too. I haven't gotten over the miscarriage, but I feel pretty normal most of the time and the sadness that hits me sometimes feels a lot healthier and somehow more productive. I'm ready to light those healing candles soon and the attachment says this:

Light of my Heart

I light this candle in celebration
For all I know you would have been.

I look into the light, feel the brighness
Of your spirit and the spark touches my heart.

I am filled with the aroma, a tangible reminder
Of the depth of my love for you.

As I extinguish the flame, the smoke rises
Giving flight to some small part of my pain.

Your precious light will remain burning
In my heart forevermore.

The package of seeds says this:

Seeds of Hope Blessing

I sow these seeds in remembrance of you.
As I tuck them into the soil,
I plant my hope for the future
while I bury my dreams
of holding you in my arms.
I entrust you to the loving care of the Earth Mother.
As you are received with open arms,
May your transition be peaceful
and calm.
May your spirit be warmed by the sun
May the rains wash away your worries and cares
And may the winds carry you
safely on your journey.
I now surrender you to soar
with the angels.
My spirit will heal but you will
remain in my heart forevermore.

Obviously that is slightly cheesy and there are parts that are questionable. But I'm touched by the thoughts and lighting the candles feels like something tangible to do. Parts of these make me cry (especially while I bury my dreams of holding you in my arms.) but that crying feels so much better than the crying I did last week. It feels almost good. Not good in the sense of crying out of happiness but good in that it feels honest and somehow productive.

Don't Cry, Sweetie

2006-11-16T11:13:00.000-05:00

Levi has been saying that to me a lot. It's really cute and it usually works. I have a lot of questions and other crap in my head right now and maybe if I write some of them here, they will leave me alone.
I want to know exactly what the baby (should I call it a baby? An embryo?) was like when it died. But I don't know exactly how old it was. Somewhere between 6 and 9 weeks gestation. Here's what WebMD says about those ages:

Week 6: The embryo is starting to look like a tadpole. It's about 0.08 inches to 0.16 inches -- the size of a BB pellet -- from the top of the head to buttocks. (This crown-to-rump length is used more often than crown-to-heel length because the baby's legs are most often bent and hard to measure). The eyes and limb buds also are forming. A heartbeat can sometimes be detected by an ultrasound around now. This is also an extremely important time in the development of your baby, since between 17 and 56 days the embryo is most susceptible to factors that can interfere with its normal growth.

Week 7: Your embryo makes great strides in size this week, growing to between 0.44 inches and 0.52 inches from crown to rump by the end of the week, or about the size of a small raspberry. Leg buds are starting to look like short fins, and hands and feet have a digital plate where fingers and toes will develop. The heart and lungs are becoming more developed, as are the eyes and nostrils, intestines and appendix. By now the brain and spinal cord are growing from the neural tube.

Week 8: Your embryo, now about in its sixth week of development, is about the size of a grape -- 0.56 to 0.8 inches from crown to rump. Eyelid folds and ears are forming and even the tip of the nose is visible. The arms have grown longer and bend at the elbows. Places where fingers and toes eventually will grow are becoming notched.

Week 9: The embryo measures about 0.9 inches to 1.2 inches from crown to rump, or the size of a strawberry. The arms and legs are longer, and the fingers might be a little swollen where the touch pads are forming. The head is more erect and neck is more developed. Your baby now moves its body and limbs, and this movement can be visible during an ultrasound, but you won't be able to feel it yet.

The age I use according to my cycle was not the same as the age according to the size, but that's probably because it was not growing properly. Also there is a week wherein it could have died at any time.

Was it a boy or a girl?

Does an around 7 week gestation embryo have a soul?
If no, when does it get one?
If yes, well what about sperm and eggs that don't connect properly and grow a little but never really live, do they have one?

Sometimes I think about the heartbeat I saw on a sonogram and about the blob of tissue I flushed down the toilet and kind of miss it. Sometimes I think about the full grown baby we were expecting to have and won't and feel disappointed. I just came to the realization yesterday that they are the same person. I don't know why that's so hard.

Sometimes I think about how common this is and how much worse things people go through and I wonder, am I overreacting?

Sometimes I read online about ceremonies people have for miscarried babies (even first trimester!) and 18 month grieving processes and I wonder, am I underreacting? Am I not honoring this baby (?) enough?

Should I have tried to catch the blob? Is it bad that the baby (?) went down the toilet?

Sometimes I look at my belly and think, "poor little baby, I'm sorry I couldn't take better care of you" and then I realize that my uterus is empty and the baby (?) is in the sewers.

What if the baby (?) came out alive and died in the toilet?

The doctor and everybody and the articles all say, "it's not your fault and it's nothing you did" but if they know that for sure than how come women who threaten miscarriage are put on bed rest and no sex etc. And why are there so many studies about things that increase the risk of miscarriage? (ie tooth decay or smoking)?

What if the thing that was wrong with it was something small and my body is overly picky?

I've been nursing for so long and now I'm not nursing or pregnant and I feel strangely useless. People keep asking how I'm feeling physically, which is sweet, but I feel better, physically, then I have in years, which is weird. I want to feel crappy and useful.

My friends and family have been great. I have a lot of support. A lot of people have asked me if there's anything they can do, and there really isn't. But, I feel really lonely for some reason. So if you'd like to do something, feel free to email, or call (although I'm terrible on the phone, so it might seem like I don't want to talk, but I just don't know what to say on the phone) or even visit if you don't mind the drive and the mess.

A Better Survey

2006-10-24T10:44:00.000-05:00

1. What is worse: Going to your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite steak only underneath the steak is a scabby band-aid. Or?

Yeah, yeah, So I Married and Axe Murderer is cool, I get it.

2. Do you like me?

Yes

3. What percent of all paper clips that you come in contact with do you unfold?

Hmm, maybe 10 or so.

4. What are your five favorite movies? (Legally Blonde does not count)

Il Ladro di Bambini.
What Women Want.
Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion.
Guys and Dolls.
Silence of the Lambs. (But don't make me watch it right now)

5. Have you ever left a pair of underwear in the forest?

No

6. If zombies were real, would you be afraid of them?

I'm already afraid of them.

7. How many Cold Cut Combos could you eat in a day?

Probably just 1 or 2. Or less, depending on how many days in a row it was.

8. How many times have you lost your keys in an article of clothing you are wearing?

Hmm, I don't remember doing that, but that doesn't mean I haven't, many times.

9. Do you like almonds?

Yes, but not almond flavoring.

10. Does God exist?

Yes.

11. Is there something better than pie?

Yes.

12. What were/are the economic, social, and political consequences of Marbury vs. Madison?

Something about judicial review.

13. Age?

27.

14. Sex?

F.

15. Location?

Washington DC.

16. In your opinion, is there always room for one more?

Yes.

17. What do you need more of?

Hmm, right now floss and overnight diapers.

18. How do you feel when you are stuck in traffic and a motorcycle drives by between the lanes?

It used to bother me and then I realized I was really just jealous and I let it go.

19. Do you want a Cadillac Escalade?

Hell, no!

20. What are your feelings regarding 25cent hot dog night?

Hell, yes!

21. How often do you take public transportation?

Once per month or so. Sometimes a lot more.

22. When you were 16 did you find Monty Python hilarious? Do you find them hilarious now?

Yes, and not as much anymore.

23. Which is scarier: 1) As you are being put under anesthesia for a big, hairy operation, you find out that Mo, Larry, and Curly are assisting -or- 2) You are locked in a room and are forced to watch an endless loop of the same episode of Gilligan's Island

Am I locked in without my 3 year old? Can I take a nap on the floor? Awesome, I choose that one!

24. What is the biggest risk you are facing at this very moment?

My back starting to hurt from sitting in front of the computer. (or scarier, I risk not paying my son enough attention while I fill out this survey.)

25. Can you ever have too much money?

Probably, yes, but hopefully I would have the self-awareness to give it all away then.

26. Black and Blue or Black and Tan?

Black and Tan.

27. Have you ever kissed a boy on the lips?

Yes.

28. Have you ever kissed a girl on the lips?

Does my mom count?

29. If they made the movie of your life, what would the title of the movie be?

Probably something cheesy I didn't choose. For marketing purposes.

30. How many camels fit on the head of a pin?

One.

31. Who do you like better ... Ben or Jerry?

They are both awesome.

32. How many chapters will your book have?

A book I write? Probaly just a few and it would never get finished.

33. What is your favorite color?

Red.

34. What is the air speed velocity of an unladen swallow?

Yeah, yeah, The Holy Grail is cool, I get it.

35. How long do you have to drive continually before you start going insane?

Not long. A couple of hours. But it depends on whether a child is screaming in the back seat.

36. Boxers or Briefs?

For men? Boxers. Or boxer briefs.

37. What is the most important meal of the day?

I think dinner. It takes the most work, so if it isn't as important, what a waste.

38. Are you a Toys (backwards)R Us Kid?

You know, I was up until the point that my son got old enough to ask for things. Now that place is scarier than zombies.

39. snow skiing: a great sport, or the greatest sport?

I'd like to try it some day.

40. can you lick your elbow?

No.

41. did you just try to lick your elbow or did you already know that it is physically impossible to do that?

Tried it.

42. Will you be in my punk band?

Yes!

43. Even if my punk band is named POLE-DANCING HEMATOMA?

Okay.

44. Is Crisco OK?

Iffy.

45. How many times per minute must you remind yourself, "I am not my job"?

A lot.

46. Is M. Night Shmalayan lame?

I guess that's what people are saying. I don't really keep up on these things. I would still be impressed if I saw him at a restaurant.

47. Were you hugged enough?

Maybe.

48. Are you hugged enough?

Yes.

49. ARE YOU EVER GOING TO BE HUGGED ENOUGH?

Yes.

50. Why don't you own a gas mask? Seriously.

Are you trying to freak me out? It's working a little. Why do I live in this city anyway?

51. The Unitatis Redintegratio document of the Catholic Church's Second Vatican Council is desperately important because...

Something about Ecumenism.

52. Eminem or not?

Not.

53. If you're a white person, and you don't listen to much hip-hop, and yet you like the Beastie Boys, what the hell is wrong with you? Don't you realize that the Beastie Boys ARE ELVIS?

I don't really like the Beastie Boys. Sorry.

54. Are you trying to perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect? If not, whatever else could you possibly be doing with your life that is so important it could keep you from trying to be perfect as your Father is perfect?

Yes, trying but not doing all that well. Perhaps I should be trying harder.

55. How many minutes "ahead" or "behind" is your watch set for?

I don't know. I assume it's right on, but I don't think any of the clocks in my house say the same thing, and I don't know what the real time is.

56. Where have you been?

Momming.

57. Name?

Marguerite.

58. How far away from your home town do you live and how far away would you like to live?

I live all the way across the country. I would like to live across a mountain range.

59. In your opinion, is expensive champagne really better than cheap champagne?

Yes. I would say that $15 champagne is more that 3 times better than $5 champagne. Worth it. $100 champagne is maybe only 5-10 times better than $5 champage. Not worth it.

60. How sad would you be if you ran over a cat?

Probably pretty sad, but it would depend on who's cat it was and how sad he or she was.

61. If you were a parasite, would you rather spend your gestational stage in the innards of a cow or the innards of a caterpillar?

Probably caterpillar, there would be more movement and excitement.

62. How high does your volume knob go?

Not all that high.

63. Totally rad, totally rockin, or totally sick?

I don't think I really say any of those, unfortunately.

64. What do you know about the Hood of death from Psalm 23?

It's okay He's got my back or something like that.

65. Have you ever followed an exercise regimen to strengthen your core? (include responses to all five W's in your answer)

I'm sure I have and no, I don't want to answer in that form. Ha!

66. If the only kinds of candy left on the planet were m and ms (original), reeses pieces, and skittles, which variety would be most likely to survive the ensuing struggle for survival?

M and M's. Duh.

67. Top three power ballads?

Sweet Child O' Mine.
Um, that's the only one I can think of that I really like. Maybe November Rain or Lady? Silent Lucidity?

68. Explain the statement "God is good." Support your position.

Um, you're making me nervous. I don't like being put on the spot. God is good. I can't explain because it often makes no sense to me, but I believe it anyway.

69. You must be world champion at something. What is it?

Oh man, uh, pole vault?

70. What is the first pop, rock, or rap song you choreographed dance moves to? What was your signature move?

Move This by Technotronic. Or maybe Giving Him Something He Can Feel by En Vogue. I'm having trouble keeping the timeline straight. I don't remember any moves, but there's a video somewhere...

71. If you're in a relationship, and you and your significant other could redistribute your combined existing weight between the two of you (the girl could give 10 pounds to the guy, or vice versa, of any amount), what do you mutually decide to do?

Um Hubby says he'd take some. I'm cool with that. But maybe we should just be happy with our bodies the way they are and stop obsessing about weight, hmm?

72. House, or Gray's Anatomy?

I have never seen either. I am slightly ashamed and also slightly proud.

73. Antz, or A Bug's Life?

A Bug's Life.

74. Paris Hilton, or Nicole Richie?

Uh, I think you know.

75. Toward, or towards?

I think I like toward better but am more likely to say towards.

76. Loving and losing, or never loving at all?

I have to choose which I prefer? Loving and losing. But don't say that to me if it happens.

77. Coffee, or tea?

Right now? Tea.

78. Or me?

Yes.

79. Why the hell do people ever waste money on weddings?

To celebrate and declare their love in front of their friends and party it up.

List Tuesday - Interesting things I learned/read over the past week

2006-10-03T13:28:00.000-05:00

1. Mona Lisa had recently given birth when she was painted, and maybe that was why she was smiling so.

2. Check this out.

3. There are 100 foot earwigs in Germany!

4. Frogs actually will jump out of gradually heated water.

5. 90% of plane crashes have survivors and there are things you can do to help you survive.

6. Candy Corn has been made with the same recipe since 1900 by the Jelly Belly candy co.

7. Roughly the same number of people die each year from breast cancer and traffic fatalities.

And of course I am interested in the torture bill. I don't know what to say about it. Schuyler and I had the following conversation:
Me: It makes me really sad that our country allows torture.
Schuyler: Me too.
Me: What can we do about it, write to our congressman?
Schuyler: We don't have a congressman.
Me: Crap.

Will

2006-09-16T10:02:00.000-05:00

The last time that I was at the Stavlunds' house before Will died, as I was leaving, Mike said to me, "Have you not held Will yet?"
I said, "No, I still haven't".
He said, "The next time you come, we will make sure you get to hold him."
I said, "I'd love that."
I never got to hold Will.
I can't make sense out of Will's death in any shape, but I am so thankful for his life and that I got to meet him. To look into his eyes was to know that there was just so much there. It's hard to describe those eyes. "Deep" just doesn't seem to cut it, but they were certainly that. He seemed to take in everything around him to a degree that I've never seen before, in baby, child or adult. You couldn't be sure exactly what he was thinking when he looked at you, but you could be sure it would be insightful.
There was so much love around Will. People from all around the country and beyond loved him before he was even born. So many people followed his story and gave thanks and cried and laughed and prayed together. He created a new community based on love and prayer. I've made new friends based on our mutual interest in this little boy and his family.
In the wake of his death, these things will not dissolve. The great amount of love that came into being around him will not go away. The connections forged will not be dissolved. Will did more to make the world a better place in his four months than most adults do in their entire lives. The hole that his death leaves in our hearts and lives is a testament to how big he was and how much he did for us.

On Snuggling

2006-09-07T14:53:00.000-05:00

My sister-in-law and my two little nieces were staying with Levi and me this weekend while Schuyler was in Germany. We kept pretty busy and had a lot of fun. At one point, both of my nieces climbed up to sit in my lap. I was snuggling with them and thinking that it would be nice to have a girl at some point. But then I started thinking about why that was. I do, after all, enjoy snuggling with Levi as much as I would with a daughter. He is a great snuggler. But then I realized that girls can snuggle with their moms all along, at any age. I can still snuggle with my mom if I want. I may not have snuggled much with her during my adolescent years, but the opportunity was there and I still did enjoy hugs and would occasionally snuggle up to her to watch a movie together. Boys can't snuggle with their moms (or their dads) past a certain age. So, once Levi is 10 or 12 or something, I won't be able to snuggle with him. I can give him hugs, sure, but we can't be cozy and watch tv or read a book together. And he won't be able to do that with dad either. The really sad thing is that once he reaches the no cuddling with mom age, he won't have anyone to snuggle with until he starts dating. And that will be different and awkward. He won't be able to be really cozy with anyone until he has a long-term relationship with someone. That could be a really really long time with no snuggling. How is that fair? Poor little boy.
And then, at another time, Levi's cousin got to wear a pretty dress and Levi came up to me and said, "Mommy, I need to wear a pretty dress."
It breaks my heart to have to tell him that he can't do something because he's a boy. He's just figuring out the differences between boys and girls and I have to introduce negative ideas to the equation. And it's sad to me that he can't be pretty. I remember that feeling as a little girl of being sooo pretty. When I got into my mom's makeup or brushed my hair or wore a frilly dress, I felt like a fairy princess. I can see the desire for that same feeling in my son, buy I can't encourage it. It is so unfair. He put some lipgloss and his cheek and said, "mommy, I'm really pretty". I told him that, yes, he was very pretty, but it makes me sad that I (or society for me) will have to kill that impulse and that desire to be soooo pretty. I still experience that feeling sometimes and like to occasionally get all dressed up and pretty. I wonder to what extent men still feel that. Is it completely squashed by the time they are adults? Is it there subconsciously? Can they feel that way in a manly way still when they put on a tux, etc?

Free stuff?

2006-08-28T13:37:00.000-05:00

I found this. Obviously, it is hate-filled, but I was wondering what you think about the idea presented, from an ethical standpoint. It doesn't feel right to me, but I'm not sure it's exactly wrong. They are offering the stuff for free. I don't think I would feel great about taking a free DVD of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but maybe if I got that and A Parent’s Guide to Preventing Homosexuality, it would be okay. I do feel a morbid interest in seeing what that book says.

On How to Talk to People

2006-08-16T10:55:00.000-05:00

He entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today." So he hurried down and was happy to welcome him. All who saw it began to grumble and said, "He has gone to be the guest of one who is a sinner." Zacchaeus stood there and said to the Lord, "Look, half of my possessions, Lord, I will give to the poor; and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I will pay back four times as much." Then Jesus said to him, "Today salvation has come to this house, because he too is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost.
Luke 19:1-10

From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, "God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you." But he turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."
Matthew 16:21-23

Hmm, clearly we are to talk differently to friends and strangers. Jesus didn't lead with "Repent sinner" when talking to Zacchaeus, asking him to dinner instead, but he certainly pulled no punches with Peter. A lot of christians today seem to have it backwards, no?
My problem, though, is not that I need to deal more kindly and gracefully with sinning strangers, but that I need to deal with them at all. I don't have dinner with tax collecters. It's easy to ignore lines like "For the Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost" and focus on feeding the poor and other very important, but not complete, parts of Jesus' ministry. If I am to be a good disciple of Christ, oughtn't I to try to further what he came to do? I see very few people actually doing this in the way that Jesus would seem to want, that is, in the way he did it. There seems to be this divide between people like me who don't like to assume that we know more than others, that don't want to try to make people change, and people who are out there with signs and asking strangers right out, "Is Jesus your personal Savior?" I want to be one of those rare people who seek out the lost and eat with them. Who try to 'save' them from their lives by bringing nothing more or less than love.
About the passage from Matthew, about how we are to speak to our friends, I'm not sure what I think. I would ask my friends to call me out when they see me acting in an unchristian way, but I'm not sure how I would take something as bold as "get behind me satan". I also do not want to talk to my friends that way (not that they need it, but of course everone needs it at some point). I remind myself that I am not Jesus and do not have the authority he has to speak that way. I wonder if Peter would have accepted it differently coming from someone else, but then I have to remind myself that I don't know how Peter accepted it. How do I know he didn't think to himself, "Man that Jesus can be annoying"? I don't have a conclusion. Any thoughts?

Congratulations

2006-08-07T21:08:00.000-05:00

My little sister graduated with her Masters degree from the University of Portland on Friday. I'm so proud of her and I wish I could've been there. Congratulations, Leah.

She is the tall, blonde one.

A Journey

2006-07-29T14:55:00.000-05:00

I used to walk around holding Jesus' hand. I would walk proud and confident, knowing that I had Him with me. I didn't really look at Him, or talk to Him directly, but I felt pretty good that He was always with me. I never had to long to be closer to Him. Then one day, a few months ago, or maybe more, I looked down and I noticed that I wasn't holding His hand at all. I was holding my own hand. I had been holding my own hand all along. I looked around for Jesus and He was nowhere to be seen. As soon as I began wondering how to find Him, I noticed that I had a map in my hand. He had given it to me and I'd had it all along, tucked away in my pocket, not bothering me. This map showed me exactly how to get to Him, there was nothing complicated about it. I sat down and studied it for awhile. I felt that if I really memorized the map, then I would be close to Jesus. I memorized it backward and forward including which streets were abbreviated st and which were spelled out. I practiced out loud. I was quite good and proud of myself. I thought about how wonderful it was that He had given me this map and how close to Him it made me feel, when I realized that I didn't feel closer to Him at all. I had no idea what to do. I came up to a person on the street and said to her, "I've memorized this entire map, and yet I've gone nowhere."
She looked at me funny and said, "memorizing it doesn't help, you have to follow it."
Realizing what an idiot I'd been, I slapped myself on the forehead and began to follow the map toward where Jesus was. It was longer than I thought, I hadn't realzied I'd gotten so far away from Him. I think the map may have gotten bigger while I was busy trying to memorize it. Sometimes, while I was following it, I would think of a brilliant shortcut, but whenever I followed these, I was led through brambles and overrun roads and always ended up having to go back the way I'd come and follow the map more faithfully. Sometimes I didn't believe it all. I said, "I'm sure the map doesn't mean that I ought to turn here". I always turned out to be wrong about that too. It was often slow going, because I would run across random bits of falderal that I had to stop and pick up. At one point my pockets were so full that I could only walk very slowly. I saw a quarter on the ground and stopped to pick it up and add it to my pocket. That added weight made it so that I couldn't walk at all. I stood there, looking at the map and wondering what I ought to do. I still had quite a ways to go, but I really couldn't move. I couldn't put the quarter back, because, what if I needed it? I agonized about the importance of that one quarter. I looked down at the map. The words Take off your pants appeared and then disappeared. Without stopping to think about how ridiculous it was, I took them off and kept walking in my underwear. It was amazing. I was going so much faster now. I even broke into a run. I followed the map exactly and came to the last street. I stopped and looked up. There, right across the street was Jesus. The deepest longing of my heart was to be near Him. There was nothing complicated about crossing the street. I knew exactly how, and it would not be difficult at all. It was what I wanted more than anything. But I just stood there. I looked at Him and He held out His arms to me. I turned around and ran to hide behind a tree. Now I'm sitting behind that tree. I'm not sure if Jesus is still there with His arms out or if He is walking away.

Mmmm

2006-07-20T13:31:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I just really get homesick. Mmmm.

In insufficient memory

2006-06-26T20:50:00.000-05:00

Today I got an email from my dad about a memorial website created for my uncle Chuck. I don't really recommend that you look at it, but if you like following links, here it is. My uncle died last January (2005) and this site was created by his girlfriend, Cheryl. Looking over it made me think about his death and his life and his memorial service. This post won't be a memorial to him, so much as a testament to how stupid I can be. The memories I have of Uncle Chuck from when I was a child are few. I remember him not coming to many family gatherings. I remember other family members making comments such as, "If we'd said there would be pictures taken, Chuck would have come." I remember him being handsome, tanned, tatooed, and very L.A. I knew that he wanted to be an actor. I remember meeting Cheryl and hearing comments about how she wasn't as young as his normal girlfriends and about how she made a lot of money and some hints as to what that might mean. I remember when he decided to call himself Chas. I formed in my mind a judgemental picture of Uncle Chuck as one of those shallow L.A. actor wannabees. I found out a few years ago that he had cancer. It made me sad, because I don't like anyone to have cancer. I made a concerned face whenever my dad talked about it. Uncle Chuck called me after Levi was born (not many relatives - especially of that generation - did). I listened to him talk about how important family is. I agreed in the right places. I thought to myself, listen to this man, he always lived so selfishly and frivously and now he's dying and he thinks he can lecture me about this stuff, well I am way ahead of him. I didn't go to visit him. When he died, I was sad because death is hard and it is hard when someone you once knew is gone forever, no matter what you think of him. Schuyler and Levi and I didn't make it to the funeral in L.A. on such short notice, but we did go to his burial and what was being called his 'celebration of life', because that's what family does. We rode on two sailboats out in the ocean and scattered his ashes there. I learned many things that day. I learned that Cheryl is a wonderful woman who really really cared about Uncle Chuck. I learned that my dad really misses his brother. I learned that Uncle Chuck and Cheryl went to church regularly. I learned that Uncle Chuck loved sailing and made his living sailing boats from where rich people bought them in Mexico to where rich people lived in L.A. I learned that Uncle Chuck had some really interesting, funny and kind friends. I learned that judging people is really stupid and that I was phenomonally mistaken and that it was too late. After the party, his friends were gathered at the hotel drinking beers and telling stories about him. He was a great guy. My dad said something to me about how ridiculous it was that he didn't know any of these stories about his brother, and how stupid it is that we never make time to get to know our family members until it is too late. We will put our lives on hold and spend a lot of money to go to funerals, when it makes so much more sense to put our energy into getting to know the people we love now.

97 pound weakling

2006-06-14T10:57:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I took Levi to the pool. That little boy is quite nervous in the water. He likes to sit on the steps and play with a boat. If I take him out into the water, he holds on fairly tight and asks to go back. So, I was sitting there, watching him play with his boat and looking around at some of the other kids his age. They were jumping around and splashing and kicking. Their parents had to grab them regularly to keep them from drowning themselves. And then, I had a flash forward about 2 years. He's 4 and taking swimming lessons and he's the small, skinny pale kid afraid to get his face wet (there's always one, right?). The exasperated instructor pretty much ends up leaving him to me and teaching the braver kids to kick and blow bubbles. This scared and worried me until I thought even further down the line and realized that when he is a grown man it will not matter one bit that he was a small, skinny, cautious child. And I realized that even I, who consider myself above that, expect boys to be strong and brave to some degree, and that is not fair.

Internet Reading

2006-06-14T10:47:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I start to get burnt our on reading serious and thought-provoking things online. My reading time is seriously limited and sometimes I just skip straight to reading something frivolous. Imagine my surprise when my frivolous reading made me cry a little. I'm touched fairly easily these days and I know I'm a dork for reading it in the first place, but I think even you may be inspired by this.

A sign

2006-06-01T17:09:00.001-05:00

Today, I was driving somewhere and I saw a sign at a church that said:

An unborn baby is a beloved child of God.
Need help? Call 703-820-7111.

It just struck me that that is a very simple, loving, nonpolitical way to put it. Do you agree?

PS - abortion is a very sensitive topic, please keep comments kind.

a sad world

2006-05-27T14:03:00.000-05:00

Warning: the following post contains references to me crying. If this makes you uncomfortable don't read it. Please do not assume that you understand more about the crying than I do, please do not lecture me and please do not tell me not to cry. If someone else leaves an unsensitive comment please do not feel the need to stand up for me. I can take care of myself. I am a big girl.

Note: I am not saying, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." Please feel free to disagree with anything I say and to post accordingly. Please feel free to take me to task if I am rude. But, do not be a child about it and do not treat me like a child.

Note: Do not assume that you know exactly to whom I am referring. You may be wrong. Consider it general advice.

On to the post:

I walked to the grocery store today with Levi in the stroller because we just needed a few things - such as milk. While I was walking down one of the aisles an elderly black woman started mumbling to me as old people often will. She pointed to some graham crackers and said, "I better not get those since they're not on sale." I nodded, a little confused. She looked at me and said, "those nabisco crackers go on sale sometimes, I can get some them, I'd better not buy them now. We have to watch out for ourselves, don't we?" I nodded sympathetically, even though I am lucky enough not to have to 'watch out for myself' in that way. She than said, "prices have been getting so high lately, we have to watch out." I said, "yes" or some such thing and nodded some more. She started to walk away and mumbled, "It's getting hard just to make it." That comment broke my heart. I started crying right there in the grocery aisle. No one stopped, this is DC after all. But, to look at that hunched over old woman, to know how much she must of gone through already in her life, and to know that she is now just barely getting by is heartbreaking. If I assume that she is 86 (probably pretty close, she may have been older), then she was born in 1920. That means that Brown vs the Board of Education was not decided until she was 34. The civil rights act was not passed until she was 44, and the voting rights act was not passed until she was 45. It is hard to imagine what she's seen and put up with in her life. How is it fair that she can't even buy graham crackers in her old age. I wanted to help her so badly, but didn't want to belittle or embarrass her. I followed her a little, hoping to see an opportunity to slip her some cash or pay for her groceries without embarrassing her. I was in line behind her and she dropped something. I said, "I'll get it," and she forcefully said, "no, I can do it." Then she slowly bent down and picked it up. She wasn't the type to want help, so I really didn't know what to do. In the end, I did nothing to help her. She bought two cuts of meat and two bags of frozen vegetables and walked slowly with her one bag out to wait for the bus that goes to Anacostia. I don't know how far she rode that bus, but it's quite likely that she has no grocery store anywhere near her home. I really really wish that I could do something for her, other than cry and pray and know that there are many many like her.

question

2006-05-26T14:30:00.000-05:00

I wrote a post today that is not about, but references, a post I deleted and the comments on it. It may or may not be offensive to some. Should I post it?

Ist Grade Story

2006-05-24T18:12:00.000-05:00

So this is the week for stories from the 1st grade. I'm a bit late, so sue me. I don't really remember much from the first or second grade for some reason. Kidnergarten is pretty clear as is 3rd grade, so I'm not sure what happened to those years. I do have one interesting memory though, that I think might be from the first grade. We went on a field trip to the central washington state fair. My mom came along as did some other parent chaperones. My mom met this man there. I'm pretty sure that his name was James's Dad (pronounce both s's). He was married and had at least one child, who was in my class. Anyway, he fell madly in love with my mom. He would come to our house every night and bang on the door and cry for a couple of hours and leave presents. We would bring the tv into the bedroom, turn off the lights and pretend that we weren't home. My sister (two years younger than me) and I loved the presents he would leave on the doorstep and thought that he must be pretty nice. We would listen to him cry and say, "Mommy, why are you being so mean to James's Dad?" His wife came to my mom's work and threatened her. I'm not sure how, but eventually he went away.

On Being Nice

2006-05-14T21:54:00.000-05:00

So we talked about lifestyle giving at church today. We talked about examining the way we look at other people and the things we can do to help them. I missed a lot of it, but I've been thinking about it all week and trying to see what changes I need to make. A friend made an observation that involved seeing a homeless man as the child he once was and how Jesus must see him, and how we can strive to do that with strangers. So, I was sitting on the Metro by myself and looked around and did just that. It was really cool. Instead of the snide comments I usually make to myself in my head ("that guy thinks he's hot stuff" or "whoa is that skirt short, how old does she think she is?"), I simply looked at them as people, and I wondered what made them smile and what their worries and insecurities were. It was really refreshing.
Then, another day, something else happened to make me think further on this. I was driving down Mass ave and I noticed one of those jerk drivers that zoom around changing lanes in my rear-view mirror. He zoomed up behind me, my lane slowed down, and he zoomed into the right lane. A little further on, I saw him, stuck behind a parked car with his blinker on, trying to get back into my lane. I said, "ha ha, serves him right", and drove on without letting him in. Now, normally, I let people in when they have on their blinkers and need to get in. But, I didn't do it because I thought this guy was a jerk. Which made me think, ought we to be nice only to people who are nice? That doesn't seem right. I should have let the jerk in.

Memory Lane Monday

2006-05-08T18:08:00.000-05:00

So I guess we're telling stories about kindergarten today. The thing I remember most about kindergarten is my best friend Patty. She was really poor and all the kids made fun of her and I used to come home crying about it. We were kind of poor too. Sometimes we had a house to rent and sometimes the three of us (me, mom, sister) lived in a room at my grandma's house. I didn't realize at the time that we were poor, but my mom has told me since that she came very close to going on welfare many times because she couldn't feed us, but something always happened to help her get through. I guess going on welfare would make her feel like she'd failed at her life away from my dad. I remember not having shoes in the summer. Anyway, don't feel sorry for me, because I was perfectly happy and unaware that we were poor. Nobody made fun of me about it. But my friend Patty had ratty, dirty clothes and everyone made fun of her so much. Sometimes she would stay the night at our house and we would lay in bed and sing 'you are my sunshine' before we went to sleep. One time I won a big ribbon for something, I don't remember what, and she really liked it so I gave it to her.

Also, the bus driver really liked me. He got everyone a Christmas card, and he bought me a full sized greeting card and a pack of gum. I was the only one that got that and I thought it was pretty cool, but I think it really freaked my mom out.

Also, I was some kind of genius in kidnergarten. I have my standardized test scores and got 99th percentile in every subject. I was at fourth grade reading level. I don't know what happened after that. I've just gotten successively dumber every year. That year I got to be in a special after school program for smart kids, but all I can remember from it is learning 'Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do' and eating a giant sandwich.

Also, I really loved the assistant teacher, Kindra. I was one of her favorites too. I always remembered her, but hadn't talked to her for years. Then, when we were making our wedding guest list, it turned out she was related to Schuyler and we got to invite her to the wedding.

Why?

2006-05-02T16:58:00.000-05:00

Can anyone tell me why it is that once one finally gets past the age where all ones friends, no matter how thin they are, complain that they're fat, one reaches the age where all ones friends, no matter how clean their houses are, complain about what a mess said houses are?

Happy Birthday, Jennifer!

2006-04-27T12:52:00.000-05:00

Here's wishing the best of birthdays to the best of friends. I love you.

Who likes underwear?

2006-04-24T21:21:00.000-05:00

I got a chain letter in the mail today. I kind of hate chain letters, but my sister sent it to me and my other sister sent it to her, so I feel like I kind of have to send it on. The letter claims to not be a chain letter, but only for fun. It's a panty exchange. I send a pair of panties (new with tags on) to number 1 on the list (sister Claire) then send the letter to 6 people and get 36 pairs of panties in the mail!! (exclamation points not mine) It would actually be pretty disturbing to get 36 pairs of panties in the mail. I do laundry once a week, and I don't even think I have room for 36 pairs of panties. I think I'd have to buy a new dresser. Some sort of panty dresser. At least it spells out that they are to be new, so I know my sisters haven't gotten into something kinky.
Anyway, I don't want to send out this letter to my friends, because I want them to still be my friends, but I feel kind of bad letting it drop, because I love my sisters.
So, any of my readers want to jump in front of the chain letter bus? Volunteer to receive a chain letter from me and to send a pair of panties to my sister Leah? You can make them as wierd as you like, she deserves some sort of payback. Then, feel free to let it drop. I really don't need 36 pairs of panties sent to me. Or, if you are excited about getting a plethora of panties in the mail, by all means, send it on.

Sometimes I really love my neighborhood

2006-04-18T14:51:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I was pushing Levi on the swings at the playground across the street. There was a 7-year-old girl on one of the swings and we had a nice conversation. She asked me where I was from and I told her I lived across the street. I asked her where she was from and she said, "Russia". I couldn't tell - she had very little accent. She told me that they had moved here not too long ago and lived near the Russian embassy and that she went to Russian school. She is in the second grade for American school and the first grade for Russian school. She asked me if I am trying to learn any languages. I told her that I am not. She told me that she is trying to learn Spanish and French, but that she is not that good at it. I told her, but you already know Russian and English, two languages is pretty good. She said, "I know Russian, but my English isn't very good, I still need to work on it a lot."
It was pretty humbling, but it a good way. I don't need to be smarter than a seven-year-old, and I'm excited that Levi is exposed to such people, and such a diverse group of international cultures as he is, simply by playing at the playground.

Levi was almost called...

2006-04-11T16:26:00.000-05:00

There has been a lot of talk about baby names lately and it's been making me think about how hard that process was and how many potentials we went through before we landed on Levi (1 day after he was born). I really love the name Levi now and think it fits him well, but I don't even think it was a forerunner until the day we decided. Anyway, when we were pregnant, we made a list of some names we liked and had our friends and family vote on it. Today, I found one of the pieces of paper with the list on it. How fun. We distributed the same list on different pieces of paper to different people. This particular one was voted on by Aunt Leah, Uncle Peter, Swennie, D, Marisa, Trevor and Cate. Here are the names we liked and how many votes they got (just from these people, since it's the only paper I found):
Aiden (6)
Alden (2)
Alexander (0)
Antony (1)
Baily (2)
Benjamin (1)
Caelan (1)
Daniel (0)
Dorian (0)
Eagan (2)
Elliot (4)
Ephraim (2)
Graham (2)
Grant (1)
Hadley (1)
Harrison (1)
Hayden (2)
Ian (2)
James (2)
Jonah (1)
Judah (0)
Kieran (2)
Lachlan (2)
Levi (1)
Marcus (3)
Max (1)
Milo (2)
Oliver (1)
Oscar (3)

As I got to the end of the list here I realized that this list was made at a point when we had only gotten to the O's in the baby name book, so there were a few more on subsequent lists. The ones that come to mind now are Rueben and Welton. Some of the favorites before we decided on Levi were Harrison and Milo. The one person that voted for Levi was Trevor. The 6 people that voted for Aiden were everone but Trevor. Also, it's interesting that the name we chose happened to be one of the 4 tribes of Isreal that are included on this list. Rueben was later included as well, I guess we just like those tribe names. Zebulun was never included.

Maybe the greatest thing ever

2006-03-31T20:07:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, a really really cool thing happened. Groceries were delivered right to my door! It was everything it was cracked up to be. I'm pretty sure that I will be a regular customer. If only I could get past the feeling that I'm lazy and/or being tricked in some way. But, let me tell you more about it.
I got a coupon in the mail for $20 off of my first order from Peapod by Giant. Their delivery fee is $6.95 on orders over $100 and $9.95 on orders over $50. So, what the hell, why not? First let me describe my normal trips to the grocery store:
1) Find a time to get Levi out of the house when he is well rested and has something in his belly.
2) Go to the store and promise him 'a quarter' when we're finished (some random crap out of the quarter machine).
3) Wrestle and/or cajole him into the cart.
4) Distract him somehow while putting items into my cart (whole foods-bread samples, safeway-coupon machines, giant-??)
5) Talk and play games while standing in line.
6) Try and pay while keeping him sitting down and not playing with the credit card machine.
7) Get a quarter.
8) At the car, sort the groceries as I put them in the trunk so that those that need to go in right away are near the front.
9) Get Levi buckled in and go home. At home, before we get out, give him lecture about how I will be carrying bags and I need him to walk nicely home rather than run off in an opposite direction.
10) Get Levi out and set him on the sidewalk.
11) Chase after him as he runs off laughing.
12) Grab the groceries that need to go in.
13) Carry the bags a short distance, set them down go after Levi, repeat until we make it the 75 or so yards from the car to the door.
14) Give Levi a little talk about how I'm sorry I had to drag him by the arm, but I meant it when I told him to walk home now.
15) Give him a hug and put away the groceries.
16) Get the rest of the bags when Schuyler gets home and he can stay inside with Levi.

Okay, so that's not really so bad, no store meltdowns etc. most of the time, but I still would rather avoid it. So, I pretty much jumped at the chance when I got my coupon. I shopped online in short bursts over a whole day. That way I could remember something and go put it in my cart instead of on a list. When I had a longer stretch of time I browsed the sale section. They had everything I was looking for except chocolate Pediasure, taco sauce and YoBaby drinkable whole milk yogurt. The regular Giant doesn't carry the latter. I suggested the Pediasure on their product request thing.
The prices were comparable to Giant's in store prices, and the sales were pretty good, although I don't think they are the same sales as the store. Here are a few of the sale prices I got for example:
Perdue boneless skinless chicken breast - $2.75/lb
Crispix cereal - $2
Whole grain Wheat Thins - $1.50
Here are a few regular price things I bought:
Kashi Good Friends cereal - $3.69
Ken's Steak House ranch dressing - $2.99
Colgate toothpaste - $2.59
So, that seems about right, doesn't it?
Anyway, the online shopping experience was quite pleasant, and they'll keep my list, which might make it faster the next time. So, I chose a delivery time of 11am-1pm (they have two hour windows all day from 6am to 9:30pm, and you get $1 off if you choose a wider window because you'll be home all day), and waited for my food to arrive. The guy got here at about 11:30. He brought the bags all the way in and asked if I wanted them in the kitchen. He was extremely friendly and explained everything to me very well. He said they wanted me to be happy and blah blah blah about if I wasn't satisfied with any thing. Very good customer service I would say. Two of the things I ordered were unavailable, and as I had picked the 'no substitutions' option they just took them off of the order and said I could get a rain check on the sale prices. It didn't really bother me as the Giant store I go to always has a lot of stuff out of stock. You can choose to have them substitute a comparable item, but I was afraid of getting sweetened peanut butter or regular coke. So I did without a couple of unimportant things.
Also, one hidden cost - tip for the driver. I wasn't sure how much to tip, the only advice I could find online was 'tip is optional - use your discretion'. I gave him $4 because that's what I had. I guess I would've given him a fiver if I had it. Is that being cheap?
Anyway, overall I thought it was pretty great. I got more coupons for $5 off of each of my next four orders, so I think I'll take advantage. If any of my friends wants to use the service, they have a refer a friend thing where you get $15 off and I get $10 off, so let me know. Or you may be able to use the same $20 code I used, I'm not sure.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs

2006-03-27T22:57:00.000-05:00

So my 17 year old sister Claire and 15 year old brother Peter are coming to stay with us for a week on Saturday. It should be a lot of fun. Here's the thing though: Claire loves the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and they are going to be at the 9:30 club next Monday (week from today). Schuyler will be out of town. I'm pretty sure that Levi won't go to sleep at a sitter's house, and I don't really want him up that late. I also am not really comfortable with Peter and Claire going alone. So, my question: Are there any fans of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs or of music in general or of going out that would like to go to the concert on us? It should be fun, and I would appreciate some general supervision of the sibs. They are good kids, but they are from a small town and would probably even appreciate the escort.

Dilemma

2006-03-24T15:07:00.000-05:00

So, for the lenten season, I've been trying to cut down on the amount of money I spend on luxuries and unnecessaries, like eating out. Then, I've been putting the saved amount into a jar at church for a family that needs it. That info will help explain my little dilemma at the grocery store today. I was in the dairy aisle, about to buy eggs. The regular large eggs were $1 for a dozen. The organic large eggs were $4.79 for a dozen. I stood there for several minutes trying to decide which to buy. If I were to buy the regular eggs, I could add $3.79 to the jar. That's kind of a lot, and those amounts really start to add up over a week. On the other hand, I know how badly chickens are treated at some egg farms. And organic is better for the environment. But maybe the basic needs of people should be more important than the needs of chickens. But perhaps that is being short sighted, perhaps I should worry more about preserving the earth for many future people than the transitory needs of people now. Hmm....
I ended up buying the regular eggs. What would you have done?

Levi is growing!

2006-03-20T14:58:00.000-05:00

Which means that he needs new clothes. We put away all of 12-18 month size clothes this weekend because they are too small. This is really wonderful news for us. He's growing! I went shopping (alone) for him today and bought him the things that he needs. This is actually the first time ever that I've gone clothes shopping for him because he needs clothes. He'd been wearing the clothes he'd gotten when he was born and later gifts he'd gotten. I'd bought a few things over time, but only because they were cute and on sale, not because he really needed them. Except for shoes, we have needed new shoes. Anyway, it is pretty great. Also, shopping without him is awesome. I can look through racks and walk between stores quickly and just get things done. Also, I'd forgotten what it is like to stand in line and just stand in line.

I Rock!

2006-03-19T00:00:00.000-05:00

I love March Madness! I'm tearing it up in ESPN's tournament challenge. I got 7 out of 8 games right today, including the Wichita State over Tennessee upset. As of tonight, I rank 4005 out of more than 2 million. Is that awesome, or what? 99.9th percentile, baby. Here's the proof:
(The winning bracket is called 'What The???')

What to do?

2006-03-17T22:48:00.000-05:00

Observation:
Folks around these parts pay absolutely no attention to flashing school zone signs. Whenever I drive past Sidwell Friends school on Wisconsin at about 3, the sign that says 'School Zone Speed Limit 15 When Flashing' is flashing, but everyone keeps on driving 40. The speed limit is 30, I think.

Question:
What should I do in this situation? Should I...
a)Drive 15 and ignore the honking and gestures this creates?
b)Drive just fast enough to avoid being honked at (about 25)?
c)When in Rome...?

I usually end up doing (b), and trying to be extra vigilant for small dashing pedestrians. I'm then going quite a bit slower than the other cars, but still fast enough to do serious damage should I hit a child. Although, to be honest, I'm not sure I've ever seen any of the students near the road. It is Sidwell Friends after all. Those kids are too rich to walk anywhere. They all have their moms or chauffeurs pick them up in those weird Mercedes SUV's. But still, one may wander out to the road, and I wouldn't want to hit it, even with my small car. Anyways, what do you do in this situation? Or, if it's not like this in your neighborhood, what do you think I should do?

Ash Wednesday

2006-03-01T20:02:00.000-05:00

Dust you are, and to dust you will return.

On a Quiet Voice

2006-02-25T22:07:00.000-05:00

I noticed recently that my son has quite a quiet little voice. He doesn't seem shy and his speaking is fine for his age, but his voice is very soft. He doesn't need to speak loudly at home because it is just he and I and I listen fairly closely to what he says, but it's noticable when we are in loud places and he's trying to talk to me. I know that he gets this feature from me and it bothers me a little. A quiet voice has not generally been a good thing for me. People often just don't listen. They will look at me as if they are listening, and then completely ignore what I say. I'm not sure if they dismiss what I say or if they don't hear me and are too polite to say, "what?" Sometimes when I'm speaking to a group people will simply turn away from me and start speaking to someone else while I'm in mid-sentence. I promise that I'm not paranoid about this, my hubby notices it too. He's the one in the group that keeps listening so that I'm not talking to myself. I'll play it off and finish what I'm saying to just him, even though it's something he already knows. Sometimes it bothers him more than it bothers me. Some people do it hardly ever and some people do it almost always. If you aren't Schuyler or Leah, you've probably done it at some point or other. But don't worry, everybody that reads this blog (that I know of) falls under the hardly ever category. Anyway, all that to say that I don't want Levi to run into this problem. I have the feeling that it would be much worse for a man. I don't want him to be ignored and dismissed. I wonder if there is anything I can do to encourage him to speak more loudly.

Read it!

2006-02-23T15:27:00.000-05:00

Read this post and then read Zechariah. Or the other way round, but read them both.

My Personality Thingy

2006-02-16T18:24:00.000-05:00

So I'm going to do this fun personality thingie that other people are doing because it sounds fun and I'm desperately seeking reassurance that you like me. Only kidding! But I am doing it, so if you know me, and I'm assuming you do because you're here, follow this link and choose some adjectives to describe me. I promise not to be offended if you choose sensible.

A Late Resolution

2006-02-16T17:04:00.000-05:00

I have officially given up diet soda. I've always known it was probably bad for me and I shouldn't drink it, but I've recently decided that there is too much cancer in my family history for me to be putting that much aspartame into my system. I will now get my caffeine from tea. I actually don't put that much stock in research studies as presented by the media, but it seems pretty logical that diet coke is bad for you and tea is good. So, since I wrote it here, it's official and I can't turn back.

Every Job I've Ever Had

2006-02-14T16:15:00.000-05:00

Okay, so this might be boring to read after the brickman's, because our lives have pretty much gone down the same path since high school, but I may as well jump on the bandwagon, right?
My sister Claire was born when I was 9. Following her were Peter, George, and Mary. So I babysat fairly constantly from about age 10 to 18. Occasionally for money.
At age 16, starting in summer, I worked at Mr. C's pizza. I started washing dishes (yuck) and worked up to cashier. I generally didn't get breaks for lunch, but I filled up on handfulls of pepperoni and croutons, so that was okay. Unlike the brickmeister, I continued working during the school year and saved up to buy my own tv. We still have it in our living room.
I held that job simultaneously for awhile with an after school job at an ear, nose, throat doctor's office. That job paid $5.25 instead of $5, so I kept it longer, actually until I left for college.
My freshman year of college, I lived off financial aid and scholarships and never got a job. It was pretty sweet.
That summer I worked with my now hubby at the cherry processing plant. I worked there for three summers. I had one of the worst jobs there. Schuyler would dump the cherries with his forklift and I would spread them all out with my hands so that the bins could be stacked. The cherries used for maraschinos are generally pretty gross and squishy, so I got pretty filthy and wet doing this. I was the 'spreader'. I endured a lot of jokes about how I was spreading for Schuyler. One time a live bat flew out of the cherries I was spreading. When the cherries were dumped and spread, I joined the others, putting on lids and stapling plastic to them. The staplers were these huge ones that you swung down and hit hard on the lids. If you got a finger, it was like hitting your finger with a hammer that has staples sticking out of it. One time my sister stapled her glove to her hand and was too embarrassed to say anything so she just kept working. Tough girl.
When cherry season was over I worked as an associate at JC Penney and learned that you can be really dumb and still have a career in management.
The next school year, I aced a class called 'Dinosaurs' and got a job at the Burke Natural History Museum in the vertebrate paleontology department. The vertebrate paleontologist would give me afossil, telling me the age and genus or species. I'd write a number on it, look up the family, order etc, and list it in the computer before putting it in storage. It was way more fun than it sounds, although it could get lonely down there in the basement by myself. Here's a picture of me at Dinosaur Day 2001, teaching kids about fossils.

Then that summer back to the cherry job, then get married then back to school and the museum job. Back to the cherry job again and then back to school. I didn't have a job again senior year, but I felt pretty busy anyway.
After college, I didn't get a job, but hubby did. We traveled with the company for awhile and then settled in Moses Lake. I never did have a real job there, although I did attempt to sell Discovery Toys products. I didn't make much money, but I got a lot of cool toys.
Anyway, now my full time job involves helping a toddler to grow into a good and healthy person. I could wax eloquent about how wonderful my job is and about how horrible it is, but I'm sure you've heard all that before.

A Brain Tester

2006-01-31T15:23:00.000-05:00

Maybe you've already seen this, but I think it's fun.

So, a deaf, mute man walks into a general store to buy a toothbrush. Through pointing and pantomiming teeth brushing, he gets his point across and the transaction is completed.

If a blind man were to walk into the store next, how would he convey to the clerk that he wants to buy a pair of sunglasses?

I'll put the answer in a comment, come up with your answer before you check.

How did I get here?

2006-01-29T21:36:00.000-05:00

Does anyone else feel like a huge imposter sometimes? Or, not so much an imposter as a child playing at being a grown-up? Sometimes it feels as though I've been plucked up from making mud pies and playing smurfs, and plopped down into having a child and being expected to raise him and cook and clean and recycle and keep appointments and care about the government and be responsible and I wonder how it is possible that anyone expects me to do these things well. I don't mean to complain about the number of things I have to do, I realize that everyone else has as much or more to worry about than I do. It's only that they seem so much more qualified than I, the 9 year old, am.

A Humorous if Inappropriate Story

2006-01-10T14:58:00.000-05:00

This post will contain a funny bedroom story (or living room, I guess for those of us who have children in our beds;) ). It may be embarrassing and/or innapropriate. If you are of the mind that people ought to keep such things to themselves, stop reading now. Otherwise, read on and feel free to tease the brickman later.
So my husband and I were, um, canoodling on the couch. He stood up and was, er, removing his clothes. At a very opportune time he stepped on one of Levi's toys which said in a high-pitched singsong voice, "So-o Big". I couldn't stop laughing for an amount of time that was not strictly convenient.

Let's Just Do It Already

2006-01-04T17:48:00.000-05:00

There have been a lot of conversations among us about cohousing. About how we should someday get a house together and wouldn't that be cool. Well, I'd like to actually talk about doing it soon. I'd like to guage who's actually interested and if you are thinking along the same lines as me. I'm not thinking about building a huge commune type building with church and gym and theater etc. I'd like to go in with whoever is interested and buy a house that already exists and is perhaps not perfect, but that we can make work. I think making it work will be a great part of the experience. So, if you'd like to eventually cohouse, but are thinking along the lines of "well, we'll need this and that that we have at home now," maybe you should hold off for now. If you would like to join me and just go ahead and jump in let me know. Maybe we can start meeting and talking about where we'd like to be, what we can afford, how much space we'll need, and when we'd like to move.
Ideally, I'd prefer to be in a neighborhood that is older and not extremely safe or white. I'd like to be in the district. I am open to discussion on both of these points.
Practically, I'm thinking that we could list our homes for sale in about June (for those of us who'd want to sell), and buy something sometime during the summer. We may be able to get more for our homes in the summer and there will probably be more on the market for buying.
I'm not sure how it works legally, but we may be able to set up the home as a coop. We'd have to talk to someone who knows about these things. I don't know if we'd cosign on one mortgage or get separate ones.
I know my thoughts here are a little disjointed (I'm tired), but I think you probably get the idea. So let me know what you think and here are a few links to start thinking about. (Not that we would buy one of these, just so we can start to see what might be available in different areas).

house 1
house 2
house 3
house 4

A Happy Ending

2006-01-01T17:45:00.000-05:00

Thank you so much for your prayers. Cadence Noelle was born on Wednesday by scheduled C-section. A healthy 6 lb 6 oz baby girl. She is doing well and in the same room with mom. She is beautiful with a full head of dark hair. Mom is doing well too, although they couldn't give her much for pain because it makes her sick. So, the first day was rough, but she is a tough cookie and she is doing well now.

Another prayer request

2005-12-23T21:40:00.000-05:00

So I know everyone has been receiving lots of prayer requests lately and that it's hard to consistently pray for someone that you don't know, but if you have an extra minute, say a little extra prayer for my friend.
Here's the story:
My best friend Jenny from the block, I mean Jennifer from Yakima is pregnant with her third child. She was advised to wait three years before getting pregnant, but, well, sometimes it just happens. Her first baby was born at 31.5 weeks and is all caught up at almost 5 years old. With her second she went into labor earlier than that even. They stopped it, but she was on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy. Now, she is at 34 weeks, which is great. But, this week she went into labor and they were able to stop it. The thing is that she is dilated 3 cm and 100% effaced and her bag of waters is bulging. The baby is also breech, which means that if her water breaks, the cord will be pinched and the baby will get no oxygen. So, she is stuck in the hospital over christmas so that if her water breaks they can do an emergency C-section. If the baby changes position, she can go home. There's no real danger at this point (the baby was given steroids for lung development earlier when a test at 31 weeks showed that she could go into labor at any time), but it is hard to lay in a hospital bed all day when you feel fine, especially during the holidays.

On a Cute Christmas Song?

2005-12-08T18:31:00.000-05:00

Okay, so you know that christmas song by the Kinks - Father Christmas? Well I've always thought that song was funny and pretty silly, but today I was listening to it and I thought it was really sad. Maybe it was only because I didn't get a nap today, but here are the lyrics with italics for the sadder parts:

When I was small I believed in santa claus
Though I knew it was my dad
And I would hang up my stocking at christmas
Open my presents and I’d be glad

But the last time I played father christmas
I stood outside a department store
A gang of kids came over and mugged me
And knocked my reindeer to the floor

They said:
Father christmas, give us some money
Don’t mess around with those silly toys.
We’ll beat you up if you don’t hand it over
We want your bread so don’t make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys

Don’t give my brother a steve austin outfit
Don’t give my sister a cuddly toy
We don’t want a jigsaw or monopoly money
We only want the real mccoy

Father christmas, give us some money
We’ll beat you up if you make us annoyed
Father christmas, give us some money
Don’t mess around with those silly toys

But give my daddy a job ’cause he needs one
He’s got lots of mouths to feed
But if you’ve got one, I’ll have a machine gun
So I can scare all the kids down the street

Father christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
We’ll beat you up if you don’t hand it over
Give all the toys to the little rich boys

Have yourself a merry merry christmas
Have yourself a good time
But remember the kids who got nothin’
While you’re drinkin’ down your wine

Father christmas, give us some money
We got no time for your silly toys
We’ll beat you up if you don’t hand it over
We want your bread, so don’t make us annoyed
Give all the toys to the little rich boys

Poetry Thursday

2005-12-08T15:01:00.000-05:00

I have several poems to post today. You may read them all together or one at a time, or both.

A Psalm of Life
'Life that shall send
A challenge to its end
And when it comes, say, 'Welcome, friend.'

What the heart of the young man said to the psalmist

I
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

II
Life is real--Life is earnest--
And the grave is not its goal:
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

III
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destin'd end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

IV
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

V
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

VI
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act-—act in the glorious Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

VII
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

VIII
Footprints, that, perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecke'd brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

IX
Let us then be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Mother to Son

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—-
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

-Langston Hughes

The Hollow Men

Mistuh Kurtz--he dead.
A penny for the Old Guy

I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

-T. S. Eliot

Just Wondering

2005-12-08T13:34:00.000-05:00

So I was thinking about how they always say that newborns can recognize their mothers by their smell, and how a blanket that smells like mom will be comforting to them. This made me wonder, at what age to we lose this ability? I don't think that I would be able to identify Schuyler or Levi by smell if I had to. So, does Levi still have this? When he snuggle up to me at night, in his sleep, does he know it's me by my smell, or does he just assume it's me because it's always me when he wakes up? Then I was thinking that maybe we do still have this ability, we just wouldn't trust it. Maybe I could identify a blanket that smelled like Levi or Schuyler out of a bunch of blankets, if only I could trust that sense instead of using my brain too much. Hmm, I wonder....

In case you were wondering where the heck this came from, well, you have to think about something when you are home with a toddler all day.

On a crappy small town

2005-12-07T16:43:00.000-05:00

So Levi and I went to visit our relatives in Washington State this last week. It was so wonderful to see them all and we wish that we could live closer - just not too close. The day after we arrived in Seattle, we were driving from Southcenter up to Kirkland (yes, the costco brand is named after it) and I felt like I was home. Everything was so beautiful and the people were just so friendly and the drivers (too many of them, I admit) were so courteous. It really made me want to move back. Then, the next day, we went over the mountains to Yakima. Almost as soon as we entered the palm springs of washington, I felt like I was being suffocated. Do all small towns emit this vibe, or is it just the ones like Yakima? The ones where payday loan centers outnumber bookstores at least 10 to 1, where they finally make the national news because of a jailbreak, where half the population is hispanic and there are still bars where one will get kicked out for speaking spanish, where having the national anthem sung in spanish at the fairgrounds on the 4th of July creates a big stink, where everyone seems to be sickeningly conservative and will vote down anything that will help the city, including schools, if it might cost them any money. I have dear, dear friends who choose to live there in that hellhole. What makes them stay? Do they love their families more than I love mine? How can being so near to so many loved ones, who I have missed so much, cause so many negative feelings for me? Whatever happened to nostalgia for a simpler way of life? The suffocating feelings hit me a lot stronger than they usually do. Perhaps it was because Schuyler was not with me and I was staying with his parents. Even visiting my family was somewhat hard without Schuyler. I guess it made me feel like less of a grownup, like I was still subject to their rule, the way I was in high school. So maybe it wasn't Yakima, maybe it was my state of mind and my negative high school experiences or some combination thereof. Also, technically my in-laws do not live in Yakima. They live in Selah, the "safe" suburb of Yakima which is not any better. It is basically Yakima with less hispanic and native american heritage and more jacked-up pickup trucks.

Christmas?

2005-12-01T00:46:00.000-05:00

I would like to start by saying that I don't have a problem with secular Christmas festivities. I love Santa and always put up a tree. Sometimes, however, it just goes too far. Tonight on tv I saw Santa crooning some song in front of lots of glitter, while the Rockettes danced behind him in skimpy outfits and high heels and I couldn't help but think, "Come on, what does this have to do with Christmas?"

Poetry Thursday

2005-11-17T16:27:00.000-05:00

In Blackwater Woods

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.

~ Mary Oliver ~

A crazy invitation

2005-11-11T17:03:00.000-05:00

So, my partner in parenting will be going to Germany for a conference in a couple of weeks. I'm excited for him and wish him all kinds of fun etc, etc, but I was not looking forward to a week alone with my adorable toddler. So, Levi and I are going to Washington state for the week (29th to 5th) to visit family and other fun things. Anyone want to go with me? The tickets are running about $215 right now. You could come alone or with the whole family. I know that it's a crazy question and everyone is really busy and important, but if anyone's feeling like being spontaneous....

A favorite

2005-11-10T18:07:00.000-05:00

You've probably already figured out that Frost is one of my favorites. Here is a poem that I love. I love the line, "home is the place where, when you have to go there they have to take you in." If you have time, read the whole thing.

The Death of the Hired Man
Robert Frost

Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table
Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,
She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage
To meet him in the doorway with the news
And put him on his guard. "Silas is back."
She pushed him outward with her through the door
And shut it after her. "Be kind," she said.
She took the market things from Warren's arms
And set them on the porch, then drew him down
To sit beside her on the wooden steps.

"When was I ever anything but kind to him?
But I'll not have the fellow back," he said.
"I told him so last haying, didn't I?
'If he left then,' I said, 'that ended it.'
What good is he? Who else will harbour him
At his age for the little he can do?
What help he is there's no depending on.
Off he goes always when I need him most.
'He thinks he ought to earn a little pay,
Enough at least to buy tobacco with,
So he won't have to beg and be beholden.'
'All right,' I say, 'I can't afford to pay
Any fixed wages, though I wish I could.'
'Someone else can.' 'Then someone else will have to.'
I shouldn't mind his bettering himself
If that was what it was. You can be certain,
When he begins like that, there's someone at him
Trying to coax him off with pocket-money,--
In haying time, when any help is scarce.
In winter he comes back to us. I'm done."

"Sh! not so loud: he'll hear you," Mary said.

"I want him to: he'll have to soon or late."

"He's worn out. He's asleep beside the stove.
When I came up from Rowe's I found him here,
Huddled against the barn-door fast asleep,
A miserable sight, and frightening, too--
You needn't smile--I didn't recognise him--
I wasn't looking for him--and he's changed.
Wait till you see."

"Where did you say he'd been?"

"He didn't say. I dragged him to the house,
And gave him tea and tried to make him smoke.
I tried to make him talk about his travels.
Nothing would do: he just kept nodding off."

"What did he say? Did he say anything?"

"But little."

"Anything? Mary, confess
He said he'd come to ditch the meadow for me."

"Warren!"

"But did he? I just want to know."

"Of course he did. What would you have him say?
Surely you wouldn't grudge the poor old man
Some humble way to save his self-respect.
He added, if you really care to know,
He meant to clear the upper pasture, too.
That sounds like something you have heard before?
Warren, I wish you could have heard the way
He jumbled everything. I stopped to look
Two or three times--he made me feel so queer--
To see if he was talking in his sleep.
He ran on Harold Wilson--you remember--
The boy you had in haying four years since.
He's finished school, and teaching in his college.
Silas declares you'll have to get him back.
He says they two will make a team for work:
Between them they will lay this farm as smooth!
The way he mixed that in with other things.
He thinks young Wilson a likely lad, though daft
On education--you know how they fought
All through July under the blazing sun,
Silas up on the cart to build the load,
Harold along beside to pitch it on."

"Yes, I took care to keep well out of earshot."

"Well, those days trouble Silas like a dream.
You wouldn't think they would. How some things linger!
Harold's young college boy's assurance piqued him.
After so many years he still keeps finding
Good arguments he sees he might have used.
I sympathise. I know just how it feels
To think of the right thing to say too late.
Harold's associated in his mind with Latin.
He asked me what I thought of Harold's saying
He studied Latin like the violin
Because he liked it--that an argument!
He said he couldn't make the boy believe
He could find water with a hazel prong--
Which showed how much good school had ever done him.
He wanted to go over that. But most of all
He thinks if he could have another chance
To teach him how to build a load of hay----"

"I know, that's Silas' one accomplishment.
He bundles every forkful in its place,
And tags and numbers it for future reference,
So he can find and easily dislodge it
In the unloading. Silas does that well.
He takes it out in bunches like big birds' nests.
You never see him standing on the hay
He's trying to lift, straining to lift himself."

"He thinks if he could teach him that, he'd be
some good perhaps to someone in the world.
He hates to see a boy the fool of books.
Poor Silas, so concerned for other folk,
And nothing to look backward to with pride,
And nothing to look forward to with hope,
So now and never any different."

Part of a moon was falling down the west,
Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills.
Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw
And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand
Among the harp-like morning-glory strings,
Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves,
As if she played unheard the tenderness
That wrought on him beside her in the night.
"Warren," she said, "he has come home to die:
You needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time."

"Home," he mocked gently.

"Yes, what else but home?
It all depends on what you mean by home.
Of course he's nothing to us, any more
Than was the hound that came a stranger to us
Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail."

"Home is the place where, when you have to go there,
They have to take you in."

"I should have called it
Something you somehow haven't to deserve."

Warren leaned out and took a step or two,
Picked up a little stick, and brought it back
And broke it in his hand and tossed it by.
"Silas has better claim on us you think
Than on his brother? Thirteen little miles
As the road winds would bring him to his door.
Silas has walked that far no doubt to-day.
Why didn't he go there? His brother's rich,
A somebody--director in the bank."

"He never told us that."

"We know it though."

"I think his brother ought to help, of course.
I'll see to that if there is need. He ought of right
To take him in, and might be willing to--
He may be better than appearances.
But have some pity on Silas. Do you think
If he'd had any pride in claiming kin
Or anything he looked for from his brother,
He'd keep so still about him all this time?"

"I wonder what's between them."

"I can tell you.
Silas is what he is--we wouldn't mind him--
But just the kind that kinsfolk can't abide.
He never did a thing so very bad.
He don't know why he isn't quite as good
As anyone. He won't be made ashamed
To please his brother, worthless though he is."

"I can't think Si ever hurt anyone."

"No, but he hurt my heart the way he lay
And rolled his old head on that sharp-edged chair-back.
He wouldn't let me put him on the lounge.
You must go in and see what you can do.
I made the bed up for him there to-night.
You'll be surprised at him--how much he's broken.
His working days are done; I'm sure of it."

"I'd not be in a hurry to say that."

"I haven't been. Go, look, see for yourself.
But, Warren, please remember how it is:
He's come to help you ditch the meadow.
He has a plan. You mustn't laugh at him.
He may not speak of it, and then he may.
I'll sit and see if that small sailing cloud
Will hit or miss the moon."

It hit the moon.
Then there were three there, making a dim row,
The moon, the little silver cloud, and she.

Warren returned--too soon, it seemed to her,
Slipped to her side, caught up her hand and waited.

"Warren," she questioned.

"Dead," was all he answered.

A Classic

2005-11-03T15:55:00.000-05:00

Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar, Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.

For Halloween

2005-10-27T16:32:00.000-05:00

The Raven
Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!