How Much Does Your Dissertation Weigh?

Phew! Matthew spent some quality time at a copy shop last night, printing and copying his 250-page dissertation and carefully bringing the copies home in these cardboard boxes. Today, he delivered them to his advisor who will, in turn, deliver them to the members of his defense board. While this is a huge step toward being "done" with his PhD, there is still the ominous defense itself with just about two months in between to "study" as much as possible. And then we can bust out the big bottles of the bubbly and toast to the end of an era.

Way to go, hon. I'm so proud of you!

French Breakfast

With temps in the mid-eighties and hazy blue skies, it's far from snowy, but these mornings home from school have often felt like "snow days" and there's an itch to seize the day. When the overabundance of Wisconsin winter white stuff did cancel school, I liked to celebrate by making something a little "fancy" for breakfast: muffins, pancakes, omelets, anything other than a bowl of instant oatmeal. Today, I whipped up a batch of crepes and threw in a handful of fresh raspberries before rolling them up, squeezing a bit of lemon juice over the top and then sprinkling some Splenda as a finishing touch. Paired with a mug of pressed coffee, the radio playing "Here Comes the Sun" in the background, Natalie quietly napping and Leah creating a scene in her doll house, it was a gourmet morning.

Say it with me: Mmmmmmmmmmm...

(and, yes, I did take that photo -- boo ya!)

A Bit from the Archives

I dug up a bit of writing from probably 6 years ago. This is something I wrote during class for an assignment I call "dada writing." The prompt involves the students writing a single word apiece on the whiteboard and then spending five or six minutes writing "anything" as long as they use at least one of the volunteered words on the board. The words that stuck with me were: obituaries, tortoise, and twirl. Et Voila!

I spotted my old Toyota in the obituaries. It had been a happy tortoise of a car, slow and steady always got to where we needed to go.
I learned how to drive in that car and impressed people because it was a stick shift.
I was happy that no one else had a car like it in town. Quirky as all first cars must be, the steering wheel shuddered at any speed over fifty. I could put the pedal to the metal and, with a encouraging cheer muttered under my breath, hope to make it up a steep hill without annoying people behind me. The flat dash was home to several Beanie Babies whose fur turned rust-colored from the sun. For whatever reason, the two front seats were always covered in fake sheepskin.
I sold it for a car six years younger and with a speedometer that went up to 140. But the Toyota had taken a tumble a week ago, lost brake fluid and twirled into a ditch just outside of Cass Lake. The hood flipped off and the roof caved in, nearly killing its passengers. Sweet revenge, I thought, after all the abuse it’s taken in its life. It is survived by photos after a nice wash, and by memories of late night trips home from work with no radio.

I still think of that car every now and then, mostly of any work I put into it, the two times some jerk broke into it and stole something of pawn value, and my driving lessons with Dad. I trembled at the end of each session in the industrial park, breathing a sigh of relief as I handed the keys back to Dad. And once we were outside the safety of the empty concrete jungle, how fast anything over 30 seemed! These days, I seldom feel "the need for speed," and I always keep in mind one of Dad's famous cheesy lines: you can always afford to pay attention. Thanks, Papa!

Ahh, a wedding!

My good friend and former colleague married his long time sweetheart this weekend on a beautiful day in a beautiful setting. I attended the ceremony solo, then Matthew brought the girls up just in time for the reception. The food was tasty, rich, and artfully served on odd-shaped dishes. The cake, yellow with raspberry and almond layers and covered with a mocha frosting, is in the picture here.

I had forgotten how fun a wedding and/or the reception can be. The musicians, a guitarist and a violinist, were super good and had us snapping our fingers, singing along , and clapping at the end of every sweet song they played. The entree, a man-sized portion of gnocchi, brussel sprouts, mushrooms, and sun-dried tomatoes all drenched in a creamy butter sauce went down too easily, and they even brought Leah her own plate of breaded chicken bits that McNuggets could only dream to be. Very classy, very yummy, and very nice.

The ceremony was simple, short and sweet. Many of the sentiments shared were similar to what Matthew and I vowed at our own wedding. Thoughts such as a wedding is just a blip on the radar screen of amazing and awesome and beautiful and miraculous things in a relationship. And it takes a lot more than furtive glances and pet names to keep a marriage strong. And like the Clint Black song goes, "love isn't something that we have, it's something that we do."

Congratulations B & J! Rock on.

Find the Babies!

Fall Cleaning

Perhaps it's because I am often chair-bound (nursing) and have the time to assess the current state of our house and create mile-long to do lists, or maybe it's the chill in the air that has me planning clean-up tasks. For whatever reason, I've finally conquered the kids' room, namely the monstrous pile of toys and books and artwork that until recently ruled most of the floor space there.
Taking a tip from Super Nanny and others, I boxed up all of Leah's toys into four plastic totes. One, a smaller one, is for very special toys that Leah can play keep in her room all the time. She picked them out, with some recommendations from Mom. The other three totes will be on rotation with one tote at the foot of the bed and the other two stacked in the attic. Hopefully this will keep her room more tidy, her toys more "fresh," and our clean-up time abbreviated. She's only asked for stored toys a couple of times so far...

Leah also helped me wash dishes today. She's done this before, but this time, I whipped out the camera and snapped a cute one of my cute one.

The Return of the "Neglect-O-Matic!"

After being fished from the clutches of the attic, given a thorough cleaning to remove all the dust and debris after the re-shingling job, and found a small bit of vacant real estate in the living room, the "Neglect-O-Matic," or baby swing as it's better known, is back in business. Leah quality tested it with the courageous Henry acting as test pilot, and Mom gave it the green light for a live load.

And what does Natalie think of the sea-like ride? Izzall Good. :)

p.s. I had to go through Photobucket to rotate these puppies. Hmmm... perhaps a more "open" blog builder is in my future.

What Makes a Good Book Good

I'm right in the middle of Scott Lynch's newest installment in the Gentlemen Bastard sequence, Red Seas Under Red Skies. So far, it's a lot of fun. I know it's premature to review a novel before I've finished it, but there's enough in this so far (and including all the merits of the first book), for me to begin recommending it to others.

I consider myself a picky reader. I can't keep chewing through a book that has errors in logic or continuity, or one in which the characters are either too perfect or simply too poorly created to root for. I won't tout that I could write any better, but I do seem to know what can hold me to a book and take me for a 5-800 page ride.

Based on aspects of Lynch's book, here are some adhesive bits that keep my nose in a book:

1. A kick-ass character- Locke Lamora has charm, talent, wit, stamina, and as many weaknesses. He is balanced by Jean Tannen, and deepened by secrets that the narrator hides from us but hints to just enough to string us along.
2. A sense of time and timing. Fantasy novels, a genre this book fits into only for setting's sake in my opinion, can die from over-description in an attempt to bring the reader into the strange world with every detail at their fingertips. Lynch paints a vivid landscape, but in consumable quantities and with a plan for every detail to be used at another point in the story -- right around the time you've forgotten about it. He also moves the plot along in such a way that I can imagine (as I do throughout the novel) the book as film with clever camera work and transitions.
   
3. A fit sense of humor. I like to laugh. My favorite movies have funny/clever bits in them. Lynch's use of slang and insult within the banter of his characters reminds me of Stephen King's dialog. Matthew even looks up from his computer every once in a while when I laugh out loud at something in this book.
4. Complexity. There are so many twists in this book, baited with chapters of "reminiscence," and compounded with the knowledge that Locke always comes out on top somehow, that I feel that wonderful magic that happens with good books: I have a hard time putting it down. (I am disposed of it now, only to be writing about it.)
5. Engaging language. Lynch writes well, and not just in the aspects I've covered here, but at the chapter, paragraph and sentence level as well. When I'm by myself or just with Natalie on my lap, I sometimes read the pages out loud to hear how the words play out and how the sentence lengths wax and wane. It's not poetry on every line, and thank goodness for that, but there are some parts where I like to reread just because it was worded so cool or so effectively. Inspiring stuff.
   
6. A satisfying ending. I know I haven't finished this one yet, but I hope to have my cheeks drawn back in a smile as I absorb the last few words. Evaluating thousands of stories written by high schoolers, I am all too well versed in endings that attempt to wrap up every creative detail with a rude alarm clock in the morning, or worse, that peter off into nonsense or the ridiculous. The ending of one novel when a sequel is planned is a tricky stunt -- it's like one massive chapter end. It must make sense yet tease the reader into turning another page, staying up another hour, and grabbing another handful of something naughty to eat.

I've read that there may be a film made of The Lies of Locke Lamora. I would agree that it could make a very good film, IF done with as similar a spirit as Lynch may have had while writing it. I don't know who I'd cast as Locke; he's so dynamic in a time when so many actors play the same role. I don't know what I'd cut to make it fit into a watchable length; there's soo many good and essential parts! I don't know what theme the movie would take; the book can be defined by at least half a dozen genres. One thing I do know is that all of these elements and more make for an entertaining way to spend a few hours. Who the heck knew I would be so engrossed in a book with the Library of Congress keyword, "swindling?"

Thanks, Scott! And thanks, Mom, for recommending the first book. :)

Sights as gifts

A rarely advertised gift of having a new baby is that I get so many little moments or "sights" that few others get to experience. For instance, I took the picture here after Natalie had finished nursing and was "out for the night." Her little body is curved around mine, her chest rises and falls against my tummy, her hands, finally unclenched, twitch in REM sleep, and the side of her chubby face is squished against the pillow. Sure, anyone could have taken that photo, but she was on my lap, after nursing from me, and here she is -- content. [snapshot]

When Natalie would wake in the night for a change and some food, I would feel the usual heavy bed-magnetism that comes when forced to get out of bed at, say 4:30 in the morning. It would take a heavy sigh, a disgruntled toss of the comforter, unfolding and donning my glasses and then, finally, setting my feet to the floor and getting up. Once I picked up Natalie from the bassinet, my mood instantly changed. Now I had this warm little creature in my arms who released a big sigh when upright over my shoulder. Her cold little fist would brush my neck as her downy hair brushed against my cheek, and I instinctively kissed the crown of her head. [snapshot]

After changing her diaper in minimal light, I sat down in the glider, positioned the Boppy on my legs, and laid Natalie on her side. Before continuing our nursing protocol, Natalie and I shared a moment. Her eyes, somehow bigger and more sparkely at night, were wide open, staring at me, and there was a calmness about her that brought calm to me to too. This is a natural thing, I thought. My daughter's look and behavior calms me, and I feel less tensed, less belabored, and quite ready to nurse her. I stroke her head, cradling it entirely with my palm. [snapshot]

And when she slept very well, but still awoke at 5 in the morning, we sat in the rocker, and I nursed her. As she rhythmically suckled and swallowed, I rocked slowly and watched out the big picture window for the first perceptible light that signaled dawn. "Perceptible light," I like that. The silhouette of the neighbor's walnut tree would emerge as black over a very dark blue, then black over a lighter blue. Soon, a cardinal or robin would make the morning "official." [snapshot]

Other parents know these moments well and could share similar "snapshots" were they actual photos. I don't know how expansive my "memory card" is or how long my "batteries" will last, but these sights are more than preserved memories. They are gifts that open at every recall.

My New Job

As most of you know, I'm on a full-year maternity leave from teaching. While I usually try to make my summers feel like the break they should be, this past summer has felt especially "free" (that is, if you don't count being pregnant during one of the hottest Wisconsin summers, and giving birth to an 8 and a half pound baby).
It may be way too soon to tell, but so far, my new job, the one where I play mommy, teacher, food source, guardian, storyteller, chauffeur, etc. to my two young audience members, is going very well. Ever since we started planning for this stage, I've been nervous about what it would like, and if my days would resemble the old Calgon commercials right off the bat. In reality, an overwhelming sense of joy came over me during my very first day with the girls by myself. I had just put Leah down for her nap, and Natalie was soon to follow. I was nursing her while I was propped up in bed with the new Scott Lynch novel, and I got goosebumps thinking about how "good" and "right" it felt at that moment, and about how freaking lucky I was to be able to have that reality. I didn't get teary, but rather let a great smile stretch across my face, and, without disrupting Natalie much, I raised my arms into the air and whispered, "Yes! This Rocks!"
Special thanks to the sole breadwinner in our family right now for working his tokhes off to bring home the bacon. Thanks, hon.

A little progress in Sisterhood

We've been struggling to teach/ train/ persuade/ charm Leah into treating Natalie like the small, fragile infant she is while also trying to forge something of a bond between the sisters. It's been a bit tricky -- Leah has drawn on Natalie's head with a marker, leaned on her limbs, and conked her on the head, *mostly* unintentionally. Some of her "mothering" tendencies have also been cause for us to cringe and intervene. We pull blankets off of Natalie's face, readjust the sunscreen on the car seat, and prevent any number of things from entering poor Natalie's mouth. Still, there are signs that Leah might be learning.
This morning, for instance, Leah "read" to Natalie in the recliner. Even as she tried to readjust Natalie's head so that she was looking at the pages, Leah used a more gentle touch. It was too cute to describe, so check out the photo.

I've been crafty!

Perhaps the more exciting news is that I've actually had some time to craft -- thanks in large part to my dear hubby and my charming, semi-patient kids. Along with a couple little odds and ends, the two major projects have been creating a new medium-sized diaper bag and a little cut paper bit of "art" to hang on the wall in our bedroom.

The bag was crafted out of necessity. We're savvy enough parents not to need the gigantic bag we bought for Leah from Land's End, yet I couldn't quite squeeze all I wanted into what we called the "diaper bag mini." With six pockets and the middle, it holds wipes, diapers, two clean onesies, my wallet, phone, a pen, a little notebook, pads, something small to amuse Leah in an emergency, a burp cloth, and my nursing apron. Oh, and I even sewed in a little key ring -- I'm ever so proud of that little detail.

The cut paper project was totally inspired by Patrica Zapata's recent work. I'm not nearly as talented with a subject or an exact-o, but I like what I made. It's quite subtle against the light blue wall of our bedroom, but it sticks up from the wall just enough to get the idea when you're closer.

I know that I have some household projects that NEED to get done, so I can't let my craftiness loose entirely, but it's been a fun and productive few weeks so far! Thanks for looking.

What I did on my summer vacation

With near perfect weather, we enjoyed our long Labor Day weekend in Minnesota. Along with visits to extended family, we spent a day at the fair, took in a Twins game, and spent as much time as we could at the cabin.

At the fair, I rode the giant slide with Leah, enjoyed a bag of hot mini-donuts, marveled at the big native fish in a cement pond, laughed while my FIL chugged chocolate milk at the all-you-can-drink stand to avoid going back in line, listened to Garrison Keillor give a live interview for MPR-midday, scarfed down a caramel apple, and was glad not to have had my labor as televised and replayed as many of the farm animals had in the "Miracle of Birth" barn.

At the cabin, Leah was almost always knee deep in the water, Matthew had his nose in a good book, Natalie slept and ate like a champ, and when I wasn't nursing Natalie, I played games, floated in the chilly and weedy water, ate way too many delicious cookies, and slept like a rock. Aside from enduring some heavy traffic beginning west of the dells, our trip was a great way to mark the unofficial end of summer.

Matthew returned to work on Tuesday, while I took the girls in for a delightfully short visit at school. Day one of solo parenting is in the bag.

"I'd rather be up at the CABIN"

Saw that bumper sticker on the way to Minnesota to visit Matthew's folks and spend the long weekend at the cabin. While the weather this weekend is supposed to be near perfect (upper seventies to mid-eighties and sunny), the cabin and all that comes with it has been on our minds a lot this summer, mostly when the temps were in the nineties and the humidity hung in the air like a sweaty undershirt.

Aside from being in the water to cool down, some of my favorite things to do at the cabin include:

• riding around on the big pontoon and ogling at all the huge "cabins" all around the lake
• taking a sauna after dark, and then running off the dock to jump in the lake -- and it's "tradition" to yell "Sssssaw-ooooo-na!" as you fly through the air
• playing games like Scrabble, Rummikub, Sequence, or Farkle (and then having my butt handed to me by Matthew's mom!)
• hearing the Twins game on the radio
• bringing a book to read in the hammock and then falling asleep with my thumb in between the pages
• watching Leah invent games to play in the shallows along the beach
• swimming out to the point and back with someone alongside in the canoe or paddleboat
• just being with good people, friends and family alike
• eating! fresh corn, hot coffee, blueberry pancakes, burgers off the grill, cold watermelon, snacks galore, and countless desserts in an assortment of sinful varieties
• watching the sun rise slowly in the morning
• hearing the loons call the sun to set
  
• replaying the memories of being at MY grandma and grandpa's cabin when I was a kid (how many sunburned backs, captured crayfish, bottle rockets, and birthday cakes?)

We are so lucky to have this cabin connection. Life is different at the cabin, any cabin.

It's a start

So Matthew has caught the low/no-impact bug and, as with most of his new passions, he is persistently trying to get the whole family "on board." Since reading this guy's blog, we've been trying to reduce the amount of junk we buy, eat, and especially throw back out into the big, green world.

What have we been doing? Mostly we've been more picky about what we buy. And here's a little list of other things we have done, many of which were inspired by "No Impact Man."

• We became members of the co-op within walking distance from home. There we can fill our own containers with bulk food, purchase local and organic produce (do you know how far YOUR bag of baby-cut carrots traveled?), and easily find other products that, if they have to be packaged, are done so out of recycled/recyclable materials.
  
• We don't buy cups of coffee anywhere unless we brought our own mugs.
  
• We avoid buying cookies and other "treats" (we probably should avoid buying anyway) because of their packaging.
  
• We take the bus when we can, even though with a toddler and a newborn we tend to look a little like a small circus.
  
• We are calling businesses and asking them to stop sending us junk mail.
  
• Matthew makes granola every week with Leah and, in addition to some cage-free eggs, has that for breakfast every morning.
  
• I made my very own batch of chocolate cupcakes -- NOT from a box!
• I hang the clothes on the line outside whenever I can, although lately with 7+ inches of rain in a week, it's been a bit hard!

So, we won't win a peace prize or be Al Gore's heroes or anything, but it's a start. And so far, minus missing junk food, it's been quite easy to do. I can foresee that the things we have to think about now will become second nature to us and buying anything in styrofoam will seem as awful as throwing away an aluminum can.

Zzzzzzzz...

At seven weeks, Natalie has become fully aware that she is not alone in the world, well... as fully aware as a seven week old baby can be. She charms us with smiles every day and is only content when we are in her sight or when she is in our arms. As a result, sleeping is not one of her favorite daytime activities anymore since it means not seeing her familiar faces. The sleep guru, Marc Weissbluth urges parents to get their babies to sleep after no more than 2 hours of awake time. Yikes!

The upside to Natalie being awake so long during the day is that she is officially sleeping through the night. She has been, more or less, since she was about four weeks old, but on the nights following as especially "alert" day, she's out at night for a good 8-9 hours. Ya-hoo!

Thank goodness I'm not writing "night" in the places where I've written "day!"

And then we were four!

Finally an update! And what news we have to share! Leah is officially a big sister with the arrival of Natalie Claire. I'm excited to have Natalie on "the outside", Leah is excited to have an excuse to play with her baby things all over again, Matthew is excited about not having to deal with little boy diaper changes, and Jack, well, he's tolerating the addition, hoping Natalie will not inherit her older sibling's knack for disturbing a perfectly good nap.

We have enjoyed all of the good things that come with a new baby: visits by friends and family, long hours spent staring at a little baby face, being pleased with five solid hours of nighttime sleep, and, one of my all time favorites, hanging baby clothes on the clothesline on a sunny day. Life is good.

Oh, and I love saying the phrase, "my girls."

Welc-moe!

Welcome to our blog sweet blog. Really, this is a more efficient and (hopefully) user-friendly alternative to clogging the inboxes of our friends and family with pictures of Leah. If you are visiting this site and have no idea who we are, feel free to browse what there is to see, but please obey the only rule we have for you: you mustn't say anything mean or nasty. This is a friendly blog. Have a nice day! :)

Leah Pics 12-05

Here is our darling Leah on her 16 month birthday!