Everyday Attic

Overheard

2011-12-13T19:48:00.000-08:00

"Hold up, girlfriend. He said what?!"

"Well, you look like a hooch with your midriff all out like that. I'm just sayin. Just gimmee that and get yourself straight."

"Another round over here, please."

Mornings

2011-11-14T14:02:00.000-08:00

Mornings start with Carter bringing B to me in bed, feeding her, and some serious snuggling and talking. Sometimes we rouse sleepy Lu.

Masquerading

2011-11-01T10:42:00.000-07:00

Lu disguised herself as Bradly, and Bradly disguised herself as Lu. We crazy. There was supposed to be face paint involved until I realized I didn't want to have to shoot myself.

Joe T.'s is our Joint

2011-10-25T17:45:00.000-07:00

This Season's Snuggie

2011-10-23T12:34:00.000-07:00

Have you seen the Forever Lazy on TV? I just want everyone to recognize that this is an adult onesie. And that the commercials are awesome, particularly the part where they talk about escape routes and duty calls.

I think I can check off Mom's Christmas gift. Done and done.

Fredericksburg with the Fam

2011-10-12T20:32:00.000-07:00

Carter stares at the rain and pays no attention to his daughter. Can you believe this?

"First, I will look at your ear..."

"Now, you will look at my ear."

Bradly has the same level of golfing skills as I do.

Bradly's favorite part of the trip: swimming frog-style in a big bathtub

Carter's favorite part of the trip: fancy dinner (Thanks, Clay!)... and maybe watching A&M beat Tech, too

Beth's favorite part of the trip: having a fire in the fireplace and Gwen Stefani in Apples to Apples

Just so you know...

2011-10-12T20:26:00.000-07:00

I no longer need to bathe Bradly. Lu has taken over all grooming responsibilities. It's on her chore list.

Head to toe, right there. Judge away.

Bradly Does Impressions

2011-10-12T20:06:00.000-07:00

and also...

Latest and Greatest from Miss B

2011-09-26T19:40:00.001-07:00

We've been seeing a little of this around here lately...

And some of this, too...

Additionally, two top front teeth are making their much anticipated appearance, as well.

Unfortunately, getting a focused shot of the little guys just starting to peak out is pretty much impossible without nine hands and a tranquilizer dart.

So Fresh and so Clean Clean

2011-09-23T11:49:00.000-07:00

Bradly Gets Tired of Doing so Much Laundry

2011-09-14T18:50:00.000-07:00

Bradly Works Out

2011-09-13T06:58:00.000-07:00

That's it! Something must be done about these cute thigh rolls and layers of neck meat!

Bradly Checks Her Email

2011-09-12T09:23:00.001-07:00

Lu, do you need on here? Are you going to update your Facebook status?

Bradly Bakes a Cake

2011-09-12T09:19:00.001-07:00

I don't know. It doesn't taste quite right. I think it needs a little something...

She's Advanced. What Can I Say?

2011-09-09T20:41:00.000-07:00

I love arranging B in pantomimes of the things I do during the day. Here she is critiquing The Poisonwood Bible.

Hip Hip Hooray

2011-09-09T20:13:00.000-07:00

Zara just opened online business to the US. Enjoy their Baby Girl highlights. Wut. Wut.

Werner and His Ladies

2011-08-15T09:43:00.000-07:00

Fall Stomping

2011-08-15T08:44:00.000-07:00

Frye's Taylor Short in Smoke

Frye's Maggie Wingtips

J. Crew Biella Patent Loafers

J. Crew's Cece Suede Ballet Flats

Frye's Carmen Harness Short

Billy Heel Short

Untamed

2011-08-10T13:09:00.000-07:00

If I Owned a Bakery...

2011-08-08T09:50:00.000-07:00

There's a cake shop down the road called Nothing Bundt Cakes, and I seriously feel they missed the boat because if I owned it, it would be called

I Like Big Bundts (and I Cannot Lie).

You other bakeries can't deny. When a pastry walks in with an itty bitty taste, shoving a cookie in your face, you get sprung! (springform pan reference?)

Thank you! Good night!

What's Wrong With Her?

2011-08-07T11:41:00.000-07:00

We went to lunch yesterday with a few other couples. As Bradly started to get fussy, as she is wont to do after about 20 minutes in any restaurant, one childless, young fellow asked me what was wrong with her. I'd like to pause and camp on that question for a minute.

My response in that moment was that I think she's sensitive, that being in a very loud, very active place like a restaurant, where my attention is normally diverted from her and drawn to other adults is sometimes just too much for her. I said all the new and whirling stimuli overwhelmed her... which, honestly, is my best guess for why she reacts like she does, but really, who the heck knows?

After packing up our stuff and as we were walking out to the car and sitting here now, I want to yell NOTHING IS WRONG WITH HER. I want to say SHE'S A BABY--that's what's wrong with her. That's why she cries. Because she is a baby, and babies sometimes cry. Am I being too sensitive? Probably.

I know there are silent, angel babies out there. Super laid-back babies. I know some. But it is deflating to the mother of a non-laid-back (a "regular") baby to hear people assume that perfect babies are the norm. This question of what's wrong with her assumes that most babies' default mood is contented, silent, cuddly cuteness and seems 1) ignorant and 2) secretly prideful in the assumption that when it comes time he will know how to parent in a way that will nip all that unreasonable crying in the bud. I should be secretly and smugly laughing about how he'll get his in a few years... but I'm not. I'm not because I was that person. I was like, "Ugh. Why don't they just give that baby a pacifier?" or "Ugh. People with babies should just stay home. Why did they come here and ruin my meal?" These were my thoughts around crying babies in public. The judgmental has now been judged. As Alanis would say, "Isn't it ironic?" The firehouse has burned down.

I remember being around a fussy baby when I was in college and having nearly the same response as this young man today... That mother (always the mother's fault, clearly) is doing/has done something wrong to make that baby so fussy. Oh, the shame now. And the anger. But how do you know unless you've struggled with trying to satisfy an unsatisfi-able baby yourself? You don't know. Unless you've rocked and pacified and swaddled and not-swaddled and walked around and stood out in the 105 plus degree weather and sung "Jesus Loves Me" four billion times and just run out of ideas and energy.

I guess what I wanted to say to him (with righteous indignation) is that I WORK FOR IT. I do whatever it takes just to stop the crying. So I feel like it's not what I do or what I don't do--because I do it all, I do everything I know how--to get her to stop crying and just hang out. But I get the sneaking suspicion that when she's having a melt down people think I've done something wrong. But I don't feel like a failure as a mother. I sorta feel like an expert because I have to know every trick, every quirk, to work so hard to keep things okay. I want to feel justified for a minute, and I want you to just let me, okay?

I thought my competitive feelings, feelings of nearly constant comparison, were difficult and despicable. I didn't like this part of myself. I didn't like feeling crappy because I'm bigger than so-and-so or not as witty or not as punctual or creative or outspoken. I mean, you get it, right? It's gross. But it's there.

However, I didn't anticipate how that competitive nature would translate to having B and thereby having this piece of me, piece of my heart, floating around for others to comment on and for me to go all super-angsty over. I watch her so closely and report every percentile, every boring development to anything stationary. But additionally and more dangerously, I compare her to others to gauge where she is, who she is, and to essentially compete (offspring death match-style!) with other babies. You don't need to tell me they're babies, and that's sick. I know. They are just little, baby babies. I know.

But here is my question: Is it okay to think she is the best? Is that wrong? Is that sin? Or should I think she is just like all other babies? That somehow seems wrong too... and obviously not true.

How do I think she is the best when she is, let us say, tempermental and sometimes difficult to please and quite spirited. My rationalizing, inner, mother monologue (motherlogue?) defends these very traits. When she is fussy, well, there is a reason for it! It does not diminish her perfection in any way, mister! It is because she is destined to be outspoken, to be a mouthpiece for others, to voice her perfectly-reasoned and revolutionary opinions. She's so loud now because she will lead a coup of some kind, probably, against evil. All evils. And likely save mankind. As a political rebel and/or missionary and/or artist. With those early-developing communication and leadership skills. That manifest themselves as whining squeals and angry babbling. So far she's concentrating her reforms on Da-Da. Apparently. We all can agree he needs reforming. (Just kidding, Carter. Everyone knows you are already PLENTY Reformed. Oy to the vey.)

But maybe she won't be outspoken. Maybe she'll be shy and sensitive. Maybe that's why going out to eat is rough for her now. I don't know.

I know labeling can be a dangerous thing, but I don't really feel guilty or ashamed saying she's "high maintenance" now. (I mean, first of all, she has no awareness of it and will have no memory of it later, so I think I'm safe.) But even if she did, part of me feels like she just is who is. Being shy or being loud or being whatever personality she'll be is not bad. I don't really want to apologize for who she is or pretend she's something that she's not. Denying who she is certainly sends the message that her real self is not acceptable.

She was made uniquely to be this exact person. This is who she is, and in my eyes, that is good. I don't want the best behaved baby. I don't want the always-happy baby. I want my baby.

I love her because she's mine, not because she behaves well or is convenient or allows me to continue to live my life exactly in the manner I've always lived it. So I feel like it's okay to be real about her being high maintenance. Should I euphemize the term so others will feel more comfortable: she's passionate, imperious, authoritative, responsive, highly aware, exciting, and demands attention. Ta da!

At the end of the day, I really do love what that means for who she might become. I'll confess sometimes it's really hard to celebrate that in the middle of a squealing aria in the middle of a restaurant when I just want to eat my fish tacos, but given some perspective, I do.

Not only do I want to celebrate the matrix of who she is, but I want to be free to celebrate who other babies are. I want to know how to teach her to live into who she is and how she was made and to love others for who they are, to celebrate the wildly diverse strenths and weaknesses around her. To be able to lift up and embrace others because she's secure in Christ and not shackled by a need to define herself as better. I don't want to pass on a legacy of constant comparison and envy. My prayer is that she (and I) could live free of that critical and poisonous insecurity. That we'd both be okay not being the best. Be okay not being noticed. Be okay being a servant. But in that kind of servanthood, we wouldn't play the victim or live in the disgusting pride of false martyrdom or false modesty either.

I'm praying that she would and I would live into who we were made to be. Comfortable with Christ as our identity and security. Comfortable as a hand or an ear lobe or a bellybutton or whatever member of the body we're called to be. Comfortable as the bangs of the body? My bangs have been quite high maintenance over the years, and yet they are still an integral part of my body (they play the important covering-the-massive-forehead role). So maybe she'll be like the bangs of the body... high maintenance but serving an essential function.

We'll leave it at that then.

I Want! I Want!

2011-07-27T12:25:00.001-07:00

Make Your Own Cheese Kit

Progess

2011-06-29T09:52:00.000-07:00

Even if she's getting more up her nose than in her mouth, at least she's not screaming the whole time, right?

Now my question is how to feed her without needing to immediately bathe her after every meal...

It Wasn't Exactly Her Favorite...

2011-06-22T11:35:00.000-07:00

She's so offended that we would make her eat with a spoon. I'm going to go ahead and predict that vegetables are not going to go over well.

Good bye, Sweet Sara...

2011-06-21T07:24:00.000-07:00

I feel like I should write out how much this group of women has meant to me over the last four (is it that long?) years or so, but I don't think I can adequately say what they given me, what a gift they've been. When we started meeting together as fresh newlyweds, I don't think we could have guessed that our larger group would whittle down to these particular four girls, but I know God put each of these women in my life (and faithfully in my living room on Monday nights) for a powerful reason. I treasure each of their personalities for different reasons, and I can see clearly the nuance each added to our little group. What I think Kristi, Sarabeth, and Jen have in common though is each has a loyal heart; each has a steadfastness that is so reassuring; each is faithful to Christ; and each has a remarkable devotion to her husband (and now children!).

I'm crying now as a write out what a blessing and inspiring lesson it's been to watch each of them step into their roles as wives and mothers. What an honor to pray for their parents and siblings and work and friends. I've seen big and small prayer answered in amazing ways. And we praise for the unanswered ones, too. What a blessing to witness J.D., Owen, Isaac, Bradly, Conley, and Anna come into the world and to pray for each of them as our bellies got bigger and bigger! And now what a blessing to celebrate a new job and an exciting move for a fourth of our little group.

I just want to say thanks, ladies, to all three of you. You changed my life.

Correction

2011-06-13T09:23:00.000-07:00

I just thought the nursery was complete.... Urban Outfitters helped me realize I was wrong.

Bathing Beauty

2011-06-10T07:20:00.000-07:00

A New Thing

2011-06-06T09:49:00.000-07:00

We discovered B's fascination with wet, cool things, particularly water bottles. It's interesting to me to see her process this new sensation and hilarious to see her try to pull it into her mouth. If it feels different, it must taste different, right? Unfortunately, B isn't the only one in the family who loves water bottles. Lu, too, is a long time fan.

Help

2011-06-02T12:44:00.000-07:00

Source: elementsofstyleblog.com via Beth on Pinterest

I need a 12 step program for Pinterest. I just commented on Molly's latest post, saying that Pinterest isn't good for me. I mean, it's obviously awesome, but I honestly feel the twitches of crack-like addiction. In the last few hazy, Pinterest-filled days since I started, I have spent a shameful amount of time gazing at bows and piglets and Carrera-marble kitchens and babies I don't even know. We're talking a seriously shameful amount of time. I was click, click, clicking away. And then I became more, ahem, selective in my selections. I said to myself, "I'm only going to click on really amazing things now."

I'm lazy, so I'm just going to paste my Story on Morning Glory comment here:

I just told Carter that I thought I was going to have to quit Pinterest. You know how I have to systematically look at every little thing in a store when I go shopping? Well, that trait does not translate well to Pinterest. I'm wasting HOURS at a time. It's stressing me out b/c I can't keep track of what I've seen and I want to see everything. This is obviously a problem. Besides, with FaceBook and the blog and email, it's just too much. I love it, but it's consuming me.

Let me elaborate a little on the shopping/must-see-everything dilemma. I feel like it's my duty to complete the looking process. I feel like I've left a stone unturned, if you will, when I don't see everything in a store. I'm horrible to shop with. I take a torturous amount of time. And I lose all energy after about 30 minutes of shopping, but I feel like I must complete the task. So it becomes a job. Paradoxical, I know. Now, when you apply this characteristic to Pinterest, it just doesn't work. I mean I have to eventually leave my computer, but I feel like a quitter, like I have something on my To Do List that's undone. It's stressing me out.

And besides all that, I have a problem organizing my boards. I forget and put master bedroom ideas under my style board or put cute shoes under the books board. That sort of thing bothers me. And I can't slow down to straighten things out because I MUST LOOK AT MORE PRETTY.

Also, I can't be bothered with all the Pinterest emails! That's too many notices. It is quite interesting/embarrassing how satisfied I feel when others like or comment or repin my images. As if I took the photo or designed the room or created the piglet. Which I didn't. All I did was click on something pretty, but I somehow feel a sense of ownership over this thing. It's weird that I take such pleasure, or even pride, when people like what I like. It makes me feel justified in my taste. What?

Anyway, here I am dithering over my relationship to Pinterest, making like I'm going to stop looking at it, when everyone knows I'll just go crawling back, groveling and panting and flagellating myself over the time I spend gazing at this kind of junk.

Source: lovepop.tumblr.com via Beth on Pinterest

Guess What That Is!

2011-05-31T07:42:00.000-07:00

Poop!

Gross!

I knew she had soiled herself, and I knew I had been bouncing her on my leg at lunch, but when I saw this on my jeans, I asked if it was tomato from my BLT. It wasn't.

Take Your Pick

2011-05-31T07:32:00.001-07:00

I pickled red onions for some tacos last week. And they were good on sandwiches. And it's the easiest thing I've done in a long time. And now I want to pickle ALL THE THINGS.

I used Martha's recipe which I don't have on hand right now, so we'll approximate:

Boil 1 cup of water. Throw some salt (1 teaspoon-ish), some sugar (1 tablespoon-ish), and some pickling spices (2 tablespoons-ish (I used Central Market's spice blend)) in the water. Pull it off the heat and add white vinegar (1/2 cup). Stuff your object de pickling in a jar, and pour your vinegar liquid to cover. Screw on the lid and let it get cool overnight.

It's good! and so versatile!

It's getting

2011-05-26T12:32:00.000-07:00

better...

and better.

Whoa

2011-05-26T09:12:00.000-07:00

Source: meggielynne.tumblr.com via Colleen on Pinterest

Source: meggielynne.tumblr.com via Emily on Pinterest

Source: meggielynne.tumblr.com via Julie on Pinterest

Source: meggielynne.tumblr.com via Renée on Pinterest

Smart

2011-05-26T09:09:00.001-07:00

Source: thefarmchicks.typepad.com via Kori on Pinterest

Black and White

2011-05-26T09:05:00.001-07:00

I saw this kitchen on Pinterest and loved it. No wonder--it's by Tommy Smythe (photos by Michael Graydon).

You know Tommy. Sarah Richardson's pal. My husband's hero.

Also, how much do I love Pinterest? TOO MOOSH!

(I forgot where I got these additional images of Tommy's kitchen. Here?)

Source: high-heelfootinthedoor.blogspot.com via Kori on Pinterest

Glad for my Girl

2011-05-26T08:16:00.000-07:00

Source: meggielynne.tumblr.com via Katie on Pinterest

Source: meggielynne.tumblr.com via Sally & Molly on Pinterest

Source: onenineseveneight.tumblr.com via Julie on Pinterest

Source: justbesplendid.tumblr.com via Julie on Pinterest

Source: makeit-loveit.com via Julie on Pinterest

Source: imgspark.com via Julie on Pinterest

Source: flickr.com via Julie on Pinterest

Source: maryelizabethinspire.tumblr.com via Julie on Pinterest

I'm Nervous about Raising a City Kid...

2011-05-18T10:15:00.000-07:00

What if she doesn't get a chance to run around in the woods?

School House Cool

2011-05-18T10:09:00.000-07:00

Scrabble Tiles Pillows

Chalkboard State Maps

Frog Pillow

I Cry At Everything Now, But Seriously, This Is So Sweet.

2011-05-11T10:05:00.000-07:00

I'm Every Woman.

2011-05-02T08:15:00.000-07:00

Bradly is comfortable kicking her heels up in formal attire,

lounging in casual wear,

and getting all white trashy with family.

A Story for Bradly

2011-04-27T10:04:00.000-07:00

I feel like I've told it a million times to anyone who stills reads here, but I wanted to type out my birth story to, I guess, officially have it down. And more specifically, so if Bradly wants to, so she can read about her first day here.

I expected to deliver early. Very early. Like Mimi did with me and with Sara. But I didn't, and in the end, I got impatient and uncomfortable and irritable, bursting and stiff in my hips, frustrated with the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd been having for way too long. It hurt to sleep, and it hurt to walk when I went to work the morning of February 15th.

I decided to let my midwife do an exam that afternoon at my scheduled appointment. I thought it would settle me down to know where we stood. She told me I wasn't even dilated 1 cm, and I wasn't effaced at all, so in some ways that was disappointing, but it was good to have a more realistic time line. So I adjusted my expectations, and your dad and I went out for a date, and I stuffed myself full of pasta and tiramisu and generally had a good time. But my hips still hurt, and my body was sort of groaning in a way it hadn't before.

That night I woke up around 2:00am to some, uh, wetness down below. I wondered if my water had broken, but it seemed pretty anticlimactic and unremarkable so I just laid there for awhile and started timing the very mild contractions that didn't feel any different than they had for months now. But they came about every seven minutes. Then they came every five minutes. And I thought this might be something. But I was sleepy, and I didn't want to sound a false alarm, and I thought that it didn't hurt anything to just rest and wait and see what happened. About 4:30 Dad got up to go to the bathroom, and I apprised him of the situation. He promptly got out his phone with its contraction timer app and started timing. We laid in bed together and talked in the dark and got excited about what was happening. The contractions still didn't hurt any worse than cramps, but they were coming every four minutes.

About 6:30 we called the hospital, and they said if my water had broken I needed to get there soon and they might need to give me something to induce labor, but I felt okay and thought that this was a stinky idea and didn't want to rush and definitely didn't want them to mess with me any more than necessary. We got up and had breakfast, and I took a shower and shaved my legs. I sort of figured I wouldn't be shaving again for awhile, so I might as well prepare myself. Gird my loins, so to speak. But with all the moving around and excitement, my contractions picked up. I realized with more certainty that this wasn't just Braxton Hicks. Now they felt like bad cramps, but they came and went, and I could still function normally when I had a break. We said good bye to Lu, told her things would be much different when we got back home, and headed to the hospital.

We checked in around 7:30 or 8:00, and after an exam in triage, the nurse told us I was dilated to 4 cm, 80% effaced, and officially in active labor. Needless to say, I'd progressed quite a bit since the exam the day before, and I would say this was when contractions started feeling more like I'd imagined them. I couldn't move much or talk during these. I just held on to your dad's hand for the most part and waited for it to pass. They put me in our delivery room, and I shuffled around the room, leaning on the wall and Dad when I needed to. I got in the shower to help make my back feel better, and by the time I got out and they checked me again, I had dilated to 8 cm and effaced 100%. I got in bed and stayed there, bossing Dad around and telling him to rub my back with the tennis ball and then to stop touching me and then telling him to be quiet and then to rub my back again. I still felt like the pain was manageable--I just had to hold on and wait it out, and it would pass. I spent so much of this time with my eyes closed that I sort of felt like I was in a trance, sort of outside of myself or dreaming.

But then around 11:30, I felt like it was time. You were ready. And you were the one who seemed to be calling the shots... as you still are. "Ahem, minions... I mean, parents. I am ready for my debut. Prepare yourselves."

I told the midwife that I was ready to push, and I made some attempts at pushing, and IT WAS RUFF. Absolutely beyond any pain or nightmares of pain I'd ever felt. Not even in the same room with 14 hours of hiking up Longs Peak or the half marathon. Not. Even. Close. I don't mean to scare you or make you feel guilt or pity because we wanted you so much and this was absolutely our choice, but to say that it was anything less than HORRIBLE is to lie. It was childbirth after all; it hurt.

I thought I had been pushing as hard as I could, giving it everything I had, but my effort was not nearly enough, and I soon realized that it wasn't nearly enough, and I realized how much more it was going to take, and I told them all that I couldn't do it. I sort of just wanted to whisper it to your dad and let him handle the details of stopping everything. The midwife was one tough broad, and she promptly retorted, "You have to do it. If you don't do it, who's going to do it?"
I realized with no small amount of terror that she was right and that there was no stopping this. And life is like that. Sometimes you have to do the hard things. And it has to be you and no one else. But I hope you know that there was someone who did the hardest thing, and He is sympathetic to going through painful times, and He makes all the difference.

I realized that the fastest way to make the pain stop was to get you out, so I started pushing with my contractions and with their help, counting to ten. The midwife told me to hold on to my legs and put my chin down and breathe differently, and I did those things, and it helped. Oh, and I screamed like an animal. I screamed so loud that Mimi and Poppa and everyone else down in the waiting room could hear me, which is embarrassing, but there was no way for me not to scream. One thing that was a comfort even during the pushing was that I only pushed when I had a contraction. The struggle wasn't constant. There were breaks built in for me so that I could rest and then go at it again. And I think that this is a pattern or echo of the way God made life in general. You'll have hard times, but there's usually time for rest or progress or celebration, a time to recover before you have another trial. And that seems to help.

So we kept on working at getting you out. Your dad kept encouraging me the whole time, like he does, knowing just what to say. He saw your little head covered with dark hair peak out, and then he saw it go back in. You were teasing us. Then I said enough is enough, and you pushed your head out to see what the ruckus was. And at 12:27 the afternoon of February 16th, the rest of you shot out, and it felt, to me, just like it seems like it would.

That moment felt so surreal and crazy with 900 people in the room, scrambling around, and I just laid back and rested. They looked at you, saw you were healthy, and in seconds, you were on my chest, eating. The placenta that connected us for nine months came out, and the midwife finished her work, and relatively quickly, the three of us were alone in the room together. You were beautiful from the very beginning. You had lots and lots of dark hair and pink cheeks and the prettiest lips. You knit your brow and sucked your thumb in those first minutes, and when Kiki and Pops and everyone came in to meet you, you greeted each new person who held you with a little grunt or sigh to say hello.

And I don't think your Dad or I could believe it. It felt like the biggest change ever, unbelievably pivotal, but all in all, it happened really quickly, and we just stared at you, not knowing how to process it and just trying to understand what had just happened. And we're still trying to understand it and understand you. And it seems like there's so much of you to know and to try to understand, and every day you come up with something new, a new part of who you are. And I like that. I like that you're already changing. I hope I don't ever wistfully look back, but I probably will. I want to try to look forward with you, to welcome the new you that comes each step along the way.

I'll tell you quite honestly, little one, you are a very exciting person to know. I hope we can keep up with your adventures.

Poem for this Season

2011-04-27T10:03:00.001-07:00

"The Pasture" by Robert Frost

I'm going out to clean the pasture spring; 
I'll only stop to rake the leaves away 
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may): 
I sha'n't be gone long.—You come too. 

I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's standing by the mother. It's so young, 
It totters when she licks it with her tongue. 
I sha'n't be gone long.—You come too.

Just Cuz

2011-04-25T19:26:00.000-07:00

It's a good thing I didn't want to raise her gender neutral because she's the girliest baby ever. Her little finger is raised here to delicately play with the pretty ribbons. You should hear her cry. She didn't get that voice from me. It's like... well, it's like the whippet's voice here around 2:40 or so. Sometimes a really loud, angry version of that but nonetheless...

Doesn't she look like a sleepy little animal here? Like a kitten?

This is my all time favorite picture. I especially appreciate the contrast between Carter's smiling face and her spastic, wrinkled grimace of frustration and anger. Hilarious.

Daddy/Daughter Time

2011-04-20T11:55:00.000-07:00

Carter kept the BayBay this morning while I dutifully went off to work. From what I hear, it was a fiesta of explosive diapers, ESPN, and milk chugging as soon as I walked out the door. They battled it out over who could talk the most.

P.S. She's growing like a champ. We're at 10 lbs. 12 oz. which is the 45th percentile and almost Lu weight. Her length is 23 3/4" now, the 95th percentile. When they picked her up from the table where they marked her length, I almost couldn't believe it. She is one long little girl. I feel like she'll be looking me eye-to-eye any day.

The Last Two Months--Photo Dump

2011-04-18T08:27:00.000-07:00

Poems for Valentine's Day and the Day After

2011-02-14T13:32:00.000-08:00

Let it not your wonder move,
Less your laughter, that I love.
Though I now write fifty years,
I have had, and have, my peers;
Poets, though divine, are men:
Some have loved as old again.
And it is not always face,
Clothes, or fortune gives the grace,
Or the feature, or the youth
But the language, and the truth,
With the ardour and the passion,
Gives the lover weight and fashion.
If you will then read the story,
First prepare you to be sorry
That you never knew till now
Either whom to love, or how;
But be glad as soon with me,
When you know that this is she,
Of whose beauty it was sung,
She shall make the old man young,
Keep the middle age at stay,
And let nothing high decay,
Till she be the reason why
All the world for love may die.
--Ben Jonson

____________

Everything Good between Men and Women
has been written in mud and butter
and barbecue sauce. The walls and
the floors used to be gorgeous.
The socks off-white and a near match.
The quince with fire blight
but we get two pints of jelly
in the end. Long walks strengthen
the back. You with a fever blister
and myself with a sty. Eyes
have we and we are forever prey
to each other’s teeth. The torrents
go over us. Thunder has not harmed
anyone we know. The river coursing
through us is dirty and deep. The left
hand protects the rhythm. Watch
your head. No fires should be
unattended. Especially when wind. Each
receives a free swiss army knife.
The first few tongues are clearly
preparatory. The impression
made by yours I carry to my grave. It is
just so sad so creepy so beautiful.
Bless it. We have so little time
to learn, so much... The river
courses dirty and deep. Cover the lettuce.
Call it a night. O soul. Flow on. Instead.
--CD Wright

____________

Having a Coke with You

is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary
it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it
in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth
between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them
I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism
just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully
as the horse
it seems they were all cheated of some marvellous experience
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I’m telling you about it
--Frank O'Hara

____________

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
--Shakespeare

I Like Big Bellies, and I Cannot Lie?

2011-02-09T11:56:00.001-08:00

As Our Neck of the Wood says, there must be something in the water.

Snow Day Activities

2011-02-03T13:40:00.000-08:00

Carter's big man feet tromping down the driveway

Slow work on Bradly's mobile

Playing with the car seat

Packing my bags

Dapper

2011-01-31T08:49:00.000-08:00

Urban Outfitter T-Strap

Urban Outfitter Zip Oxford

Princess Problems

2011-01-27T14:31:00.000-08:00

New York Times article "What's Wrong With Cinderella?" by Peggy Ornstein has piqued my interest in her book, Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches From the Front Lines of the New Girlie-Girl Culture.

Ornstein says in the article...

"I’ve spent much of my career writing about experiences that undermine girls’ well-being, warning parents that a preoccupation with body and beauty (encouraged by films, TV, magazines and, yes, toys) is perilous to their daughters’ mental and physical health. Am I now supposed to shrug and forget all that? If trafficking in stereotypes doesn’t matter at 3, when does it matter? At 6? Eight? Thirteen?... Or maybe it is even less complex than that: to mangle Freud, maybe a princess is sometimes just a princess. And, as my daughter wants to know, what’s wrong with that?"

"What’s more, just because they wear the tulle doesn’t mean they’ve drunk the Kool-Aid. Plenty of girls stray from the script, say, by playing basketball in their finery, or casting themselves as the powerful evil stepsister bossing around the sniveling Cinderella. I recall a headline-grabbing 2005 British study that revealed that girls enjoy torturing, decapitating and microwaving their Barbies nearly as much as they like to dress them up for dates. There is spice along with that sugar after all, though why this was news is beyond me: anyone who ever played with the doll knows there’s nothing more satisfying than hacking off all her hair and holding her underwater in the bathtub. Princesses can even be a boon to exasperated parents: in our house, for instance, royalty never whines and uses the potty every single time."

"There had to be a middle ground between compliant and defiant, between petticoats and paper bags. I remembered a video on YouTube, an ad for a Nintendo game called Super Princess Peach. It showed a pack of girls in tiaras, gowns and elbow-length white gloves sliding down a zip line on parasols, navigating an obstacle course of tires in their stilettos, slithering on their bellies under barbed wire, then using their telekinetic powers to make a climbing wall burst into flames. 'If you can stand up to really mean people,” an announcer intoned, “maybe you have what it takes to be a princess.'"

"In the end, it’s not the Princesses that really bother me anyway. They’re just a trigger for the bigger question of how, over the years, I can help my daughter with the contradictions she will inevitably face as a girl, the dissonance that is as endemic as ever to growing up female. Maybe the best I can hope for is that her generation will get a little further with the solutions than we did."

Difference of a Year

2011-01-24T09:23:00.001-08:00

Almost a year ago to the day, I posted about our house guest, my nephew. I remember thinking that keeping W that weekend wasn't that bad or intimidating or overwhelming and that maybe someday we could do parenthood... in like five years or so. It is totally blowing my mind that C and I had many plans in the works during that time but none of them included Bradly Baby... not even a gleam in anyone's eye.

And now we have about a three week countdown until her due date.

Spring 2010 came along and a few new ideas took root, so to speak, and obviously plans changed. Quite providentially. And planting and growth and waiting for buds took on a whole new significance.

That seems to be how C and I make major decisions: passionately thinking we've got the course charted, confronting new ideas, and very quickly hitching our wagon to a totally different star for a whole other course. It's exciting. Like going from our first date to our honeymoon in less than eight months exciting.

So here we are. Waiting. Some days patiently and some impatiently, for Bradly, for a whole new adventure.

Alternate Perspective

2011-01-18T08:05:00.000-08:00

Hannah Rosin's take in the Wall Street Journal on Amy Chua's Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother.

(On a totally anal retentive note, I noticed in her article that Rosin put quotation marks around Chua's title, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, instead of underlining or italicizing it, as one would normally do with a book title. Is this a journalistic quirk, or am I missing something? Anyone?)

Birthing Mix Master

2011-01-17T13:44:00.001-08:00

Carter is making me two mixes for Bradly's labor and delivery. I like to have options.

The first will be ambient music of his choosing in case words and too much noise are annoying me. For the second I've requested the following: Interpol, Radiohead, Ben Folds, Patty Griffin, Indigo Girls, and Vampire Weekend... I feel like I should have more suggestions, but I'm sure he'll fill in the blanks.

It's so pretty!

2011-01-17T09:34:00.001-08:00

from Atlanta Homes and Lifestyles via Griege

Golden Globe Home Runs

2011-01-17T07:54:00.000-08:00

Lea Michele

Kelly Osbourne

Julie Bowen

Eva Longoria

Claire Danes

Hazel Kathleen

2011-01-14T09:04:00.001-08:00

Bradly's cousin is here, and it is too wonderful.

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!
Luke 1: 41-42

Girl Crush

2011-01-13T08:21:00.000-08:00

Move over, Padma.

I think I officially have a new girl crush. How cute is Emerson? I know she's been around for awhile, but I just can't get over her website. Can I please have that life: designing awesome flower pins and now clothes and living with chickens and wearing ties and just being cute?

Bread

2011-01-12T14:31:00.000-08:00

I've baked Irish Soda Bread before from a recipe from Bon Appetit, and it was really easy and quick for a bread. I saw this Oat Soda Bread today from 101 Cookbooks, and it sounded even better and easier. It's hard to beat seven ingredients and one hour for a hot, crusty loaf out of your own oven... It sounds especially good when it's so cold outside.

Lost

2011-01-12T08:41:00.000-08:00

Diane Rehm is interviewing Amy Chua this morning over her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother. Amazon included this review excerpt from Publishers Weekly:

Chua (Day of Empire) imparts the secret behind the stereotypical Asian child's phenomenal success: the Chinese mother. Chua promotes what has traditionally worked very well in raising children: strict, Old World, uncompromising values--and the parents don't have to be Chinese. What they are, however, are different from what she sees as indulgent and permissive Western parents: stressing academic performance above all, never accepting a mediocre grade, insisting on drilling and practice, and instilling respect for authority. Chua and her Jewish husband (both are professors at Yale Law) raised two girls, and her account of their formative years achieving amazing success in school and music performance proves both a model and a cautionary tale... (Jan.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

Her book sounds pretty shocking and hard-edged, but she's has an interesting take on parenting. She believes that self-esteem comes more from actual achievement and not a parent's puffed-up praise during the child's youth, so she feels like her discipline and pushing benefited her daughters more than coddling and allowing play time would have. She also emphasized in her interview that there's an arc to the book and that later she questions and pulls back on some of her methods, particularly acknowledging the individuality of her second daughter and adjusting to a (somewhat) gentler, more lenient parenting style.

I absolutely believe in positive reinforcement, but I'm also suspicious of this everybody-gets-a trophy child rearing culture... because eventually everybody does have to enter the real world where they really do just care about what you can do and they aren't going to give you the benefit of the doubt and you have to work really hard and them's the facts. And how loving am I really being if I repeat over and over that she is the best basketball player ever... and she's not? I mean, children figure this stuff out pretty quickly, right? Will hyper-praise make my words meaningless to her? How do you navigate that?

I'm really curious how Christianity plays into and directs parenting style. I've been thinking about how grace and an unconditionally loving Father God dictates how one disciplines and motivates. I'm wondering about self-esteem and security and how to establish those in Bradly in a practical way by making them about her identity and not her behavior and achievements and trophies... but at the same time, to encourage her to fully use her gifts and work hard and stretch and invest her talents. Oh me. Are we ready for all this?

Lonny Kitchen

2011-01-11T10:16:00.001-08:00

The January/February 2011 Lonny's out. This was my favorite page.

Voluptuous Octopus

2011-01-11T08:11:00.001-08:00

by Jessica Polka found via Unruly Things

Browsing Birth Plans

2011-01-10T13:54:00.000-08:00

Let me insert a disclaimer here: I know that a birth plan is just a plan, is just a wish list, is the ideal and not a guarantee, but it's really helpful for one who is sorta grossed out and intimidated by hospitals and who is also a list maker to methodically go through some of these issues. It's also interesting that I didn't even know many of these choices existed, say, even six months ago.

Another disclaimer: I have heard this strange and really surprising rumor that labor and delivery hurt. I also know that literally billions of women have given birth without medicine, even women today who have some really great options in pain relief. I'm not a paranoid, conspiracy-theory, New Age mom who thinks drugs and male doctors are the devil and that my baby would be permanently damaged from an epidural. I don't see any convincing evidence of that. I'm just hoping for a different experience. That's all.

Last disclaimer: this list includes the words "vaginal" and "nipple" which do not make me uncomfortable but might make you. It's also a very long list... so you may want to skim... or not read at all. Honestly, I can't imagine why anyone would be interested in my birth plan in the first place, but oh well, here it is anyway.

Labor

I would like to be free to walk around during labor.
I wish to be able to move around and change position at will throughout labor.
I would like to be able to have fluids by mouth throughout the first stage of labor.
I will be bringing my own music to play during labor.
I would like the environment to be kept as quiet as possible.
I would prefer to keep the number of vaginal exams to a minimum.
I do not want an IV unless I become dehydrated.
I would like to wear contact lenses or glasses at all times when conscious.

Monitoring

I do not wish to have continuous fetal monitoring unless it is required by the condition of Bradly.
I do not want an internal monitor unless Bradly has shown some sign of distress.

Labor Augmentation/Induction

I do not wish to have the amniotic membrane ruptured artificially unless signs of fetal distress require internal monitoring.
I would prefer to be allowed to try changing position and other natural methods (walking, nipple stimulation) before Pitocin is administered.

Anesthesia/Pain Medication

I realize that many pain medications exist. I'll ask for them if I need them.
I'd like to be able to use the shower if necessary.

Cesarean

Unless absolutely necessary, I would like to avoid a Cesarean.
If my primary care provider determines that a Cesarean delivery is indicated, I would like to obtain a second opinion from another physician if time allows.
If a Cesarean delivery is indicated, I would like to be fully informed and to participate in the decision-making process.
I would like Carter Wooten present at all times if Bradly requires a Cesarean delivery.
If Bradly is not in distress, Bradly should be given to Carter Wooten immediately after birth.

Episiotomy

I would prefer not to have an episiotomy unless absolutely required for Bradly's safety.
I am hoping to protect the perineum. I am practicing ahead of time by squatting, doing Kegel exercises and perineal massage.
I would appreciate guidance in when to push and when to stop pushing so the perineum can stretch.
If possible, I would like to use perineal massage to help avoid the need for an episiotomy.
I would like a local anesthetic to repair a tear or an episiotomy.

Delivery

I would like to be allowed to choose the position in which I give birth, including squatting.
I would like Carter Wooten and/or nurses to support me and my legs as necessary during the pushing stage.
I would like to try to deliver in a squatting position, using Carter Wooten or a squatting bar for support.
Even if I am fully dilated, and assuming Bradly is not in distress, I would like to try to wait until I feel the urge to push before beginning the pushing phase.
I do not want any assisted delivery methods such as forceps or vacuum extraction used.
I would appreciate having the room lights turned low for the actual delivery.
I would appreciate having the room as quiet as possible when Bradly is born.
I would like to have Bradly placed on my stomach/chest immediately after delivery.

Immediately After Delivery

I would like to have Carter Wooten cut the cord.
I would prefer that the umbilical cord stop pulsating before it is cut.
I would like to hold Bradly while I deliver the placenta and any tissue repairs are made.
I would like to hold Bradly for at least 1 hour before (he/she) is photographed, examined, etc.
I would like to have Bradly evaluated and bathed in my presence.
I plan to keep Bradly near me following birth and would appreciate if the evaluation of Bradly can be done with Bradly on my abdomen, with both of us covered by a warm blanket, unless there is an unusual situation.
If Bradly must be taken from me to receive medical treatment, Carter Wooten or some other person I designate will accompany Bradly at all times.
I would prefer to hold Bradly rather than have (him/her) placed under heat lamps.
I do not want a routine injection of Pitocin after the delivery to aid in expelling the placenta.
I would like to delay the eye medication for Bradly until a couple hours after birth.
After the birth, I would prefer to be given a few moments of privacy to urinate on my own before being catheterized.

Postpartum

I would like a private room, if available.
Unless required for health reasons, I do not wish to be separated from my baby.
I would like to have Bradly "room in" and be with me at all times.

Breastfeeding

I plan to breastfeed Bradly and would like to begin nursing very shortly after birth.
Unless medically necessary, I do not wish to have any bottles given to Bradly (including glucose water or plain water).
I do not want Bradly to be given a pacifier.
I would like to meet with a lactation consultant.

Photo/Video

I would like to take still photographs during labor and the birth.

West Elm Dhurrie

2010-12-30T13:46:00.000-08:00

West Elm had a dhurrie a long time ago similar to this one that I obsessed over in orange and then in gray, but they discontinued it before I had money or space for it.

Way to go West Elm in reincarnating it here with an even better pattern and in citron. I would love a big one in our bathroom.

I Want to Sleep Here

2010-12-30T13:23:00.001-08:00

Fluffy bed #1 by Suzanne Kasler via House of Turquoise

Fluffy bed #2 by Ashley Goforth via House of Turquoise

And my favorite, Fluffy bed #3, by Ashley Goforth via House of Turquoise yet again

Feeling Pregnant...

2010-12-29T11:51:00.000-08:00

and wanting these so badly.

Salted Chocolate "Twix" Bars from Crepes of Wrath

I see a little silhouetta of a clam. Scalamoosh! Scalamoosh! Will you do the fandando?

2010-12-27T09:56:00.000-08:00

"Thunder bolts and lightening! Very, very frightening!"

Why do I love it so much?

A Canopy and Some Ruffles

2010-12-27T07:13:00.000-08:00

We sewed and hung a canopy for Bradly this weekend. This was my second try after a frustrating bout with staples and trying to shape those pleats on the fly with the whole heavy mess draped over my head. This approach--tacking the pleats with a few key stitches and using molding to secure it all to the wall and ceiling--worked much better.

I also added trim to her crib skirt... and I like the idea of it, but I think the color is off.

I started by trying to sew on the little corsage/rosettes that people were doing on t-shirts a la J.Crew for awhile, but I couldn't get them to look right, and I realized it would take me forever to do the whole crib skirt, so I used an off-white scrap to make a ruffle. Unfortunately, the bumper pad and canopy and curtains are all in a darker, creamier shade than the ruffle and pom pom trim. It's harder to tell in these pictures, but in person, it looks off. It just doesn't tie together very well. I have a feeling I'm going to be tearing out that ruffle and replacing it with one from the canopy scraps.

I still haven't attached the ties to the bumper pad, but here's a close up of the inside. Sorry, no fitted sheet yet.

Yep, I'm definitely going to replace that ruffle. The crib skirt just doesn't look like it goes with everything else, but at least I've had some ruffle practice now, and I feel like we've made some progress in there.

Wall Flowers

2010-12-21T09:28:00.000-08:00

by Umbra

For my Girl

2010-12-17T09:54:00.001-08:00

I would love to pin these to Bradly's bulletin board in the nursery, particularly the Bronte quotations, giving a little nod to Charlotte. I also like the way the bird and feather prints would jibe with the egg prints already in there.

Bronte Upward print

Austen Beast print

Austen Run Mad print

Bronte No Bird print

Dickinson Feathers print

Weeks 25-30

2010-12-17T07:16:00.000-08:00

I fell behind on the vegetal, gestational development pictures, so here's a catch up photo for the end of my second trimester and entrance into the third.

Week 25--Bradly is (mysteriously for the second week) the size of an eggplant.
Week 26--She's the length of a cucumber.
Week 27--She's the size of a head of cauliflower.
Week 28--She's the size of a small head of purple cabbage... Is she shrinking? That seems smaller than both a cucumber and an eggplant to me.
Week 29--She's the size of a butternut squash... which I already used a long time ago and didn't have any use for so decided to just not include it in my cornucopia.
Week 30--She's the size of a head of lettuce... and again, that seems like a decrease in size. I think they ran out of vegetables and are just picking random ones now.

Sorry there's not really a belly shot. It just couldn't be done. I will also say that it took some talent to hold all those vegetables at once. The positioning of that cucumber gave us special problems. Carter was trying to help arrange things, and I dropped the cucumber which broke it right in half, and then I got mad and threw it forcefully in the trash and was done with my photo session for the evening.

EEEEEEE!!!!!! and also OH. EM. GEE!!!!!!

2010-12-16T08:42:00.001-08:00

David Leibovitz will be in Fort Worth January 14 at Central Market.... AHHHH! If you think I won't use my big fat preg belly as a battling ram to knock other women down in order to get into this class, YOU ARE SO WRONG. SO WRONG. Carter, take note: I don't care if I am actually IN LABOR--I will be in this class. MARK MY DRAMATICALLY CAPITALIZED WORDS.

This is what they have planned:

David Lebovitz, Award Winning Cookbook Author, Pastry Chef, blogger, Culinary Tour Leader

Discover the complexity and satisfaction of desserts with a little zing. David Lebovitz, a master of creating enticing endings, will introduce you to a number of techniques that you'll want to include in your repertoire. The subtle flavors of citrus will wake up your palate in these tempting finales:

Meyer Lemon-Buttermilk Ice Cream Sandwiches with Nonfat Gingersnaps;
Spiced Hot Chocolate Cakes with Caramelized White Chocolate;
Candied Tangerines & Dark Chocolate Shards;
Goat Cheese Souffles with Mixed Citrus Compote in Sparkiling Champagne & Yuzu Jelly;
and Tangerine Floating Island with Blood Orange Caramel

My status is confirmed.

My Coasters are Crusty

2010-12-16T08:15:00.001-08:00

I'd take these as replacements...

or these...

or these...

Something Like That

2010-12-16T07:47:00.000-08:00

If and when we spruce up the kitchen, I think we could achieve something like Caitlin Creer's redo. We already have 1) white cabinets; 2) nickel hardware; 3) the mosaic, Carrara, backsplash tile waiting out in the garage... so, in my mind, all we'd need is a Carrara counter top and someone to install it all out of the goodness of his heart.

(I wouldn't argue against a new stove and dishwasher and under-cabinet lighting, but that's just icing.)

Lonny Favs

2010-12-15T09:58:00.000-08:00

I like these shots in the Lulu Power's article in Lonny this month.

Sick

2010-12-14T09:31:00.000-08:00

As paradoxical as it might seem, I want to mention that I'm absolutely using sick in both ways here. It's kinda gross, AND it's kinda awesome, isn't it? Mr. Frog is beyond my budget for knit dissections, but if he weren't I might have to find a place for him...

Memo for Santa

2010-12-10T07:50:00.000-08:00

Cute Short Family on the Corner has two kids. While Carter and I were walking the other day we noticed something written in chalk on their front walk.

"SANTA STOP HEAR!"

Wax Seal

2010-12-08T12:36:00.000-08:00

These wax seal initial necklaces from Eng Lady are nice. We used a "W" wax seal on our wedding invitations, but I lost it somewhere along the way.

In the Spirit...

2010-12-08T08:55:00.000-08:00

Okay, I'm not Catholic, and I'm not a Josh Groban fan per se, but my Pandora Christmas channel just pulled up "Ave Maria" by the angel-throated Mr. Groban, and I might have gasped a little. It is beautiful.

I couldn't find "Ave," but here's "O, Holy Night," which might be even better... Enjoy.

Create a MySpace Music Playlist at MixPod.com

Also, I might have started crying one time in the cool down of a yoga class when they played "You Raise Me Up" by, apparently my favorite artist, Josh. Can I nickname him Jo Gro?

I have to hit Target this afternoon for a few odds and ends--I think one of those might have to be Josh's Christmas CD...

Check Us Out

2010-12-08T08:52:00.000-08:00

Sister-in-law posted some baby-anticipating, family pics taken for the Wooten Christmas card. Go see.

The Lion and the Lamb

2010-12-06T13:01:00.000-08:00

from Every Eskimo's Esty shop

Nursery Progress

2010-12-03T08:29:00.000-08:00

We repaired and cleaned up a chair for Carter (because he's too good for just a stool). He declared with great drama that he would never sit on the stool. It was like a vow or something. All I can say is that I used a lot of hot glue and Endust on that wicker.

I hung some pictures (with bows!).

The changing table has a bulletin board, basket, lamp, and pad... but no pad cover yet. I tried to hide that still-in-box Diaper Genie back there to the right, but it's insistently peeking out anyway. Curtains need to come down soon. The linen and shelf brackets cradled on the changing pad are awaiting their lofty destiny elsewhere.

I sewed velcro to each crib skirt panel and to the frame of the crib so that 1) they could be easily removed for washing and 2) they could be easily removed to access to storage space underneath the crib. They're pretty humble right now, but stay tuned for a mean flowery trim coming soon.

The bumper pad panels have been cut out and artfully draped where they will eventually go. I'm thinking of it as an avant garde kind of bumper pad installation. The mattress pad and crib sheet are soon to be Dreft-ed and installed.

Look, I made pillow cases out of my leftover scraps from the bumper pad velveteen and bulletin board damask. Good for those of us around here who need extra lumbar support.

My Affection for Gold Spray Paint Knows No Bounds

2010-12-03T08:24:00.000-08:00

It's Christmas time up in here.

Thought Bubble

2010-12-02T12:52:00.000-08:00

I like the idea of something like this for a birth announcement... but instead of a pillow, we'll have a cushy, snuggley little babe in the background.... and obviously, it would say "Charlotte Bradly" or "I'm here," or "6 lbs. 2 oz." or something.

A Chaser

2010-11-29T13:50:00.000-08:00

I feel the need to balance that last mememe Christmas post with one a little more contemplative, a little more focused from someone else...

The Waiting

especially nice if you're pregnant and feeling all these things, too.

Wish Listing

2010-11-29T08:21:00.001-08:00

My Trends for Christmas 2010:

Comfortable shoes
Henleys
Purple
Lounge wear
Baby gear

BOB Revolution Jogging Stroller

Ruched Scoop Neck Henley

Crochet Placket Henley

Ruffle Henley

Tiered Pleats Shirt

Chambray

Flannel Button Up

Graco Sound Machine and Ipod Dock

Cuisinart

Plum Cardigan

Black Cashmere V-Neck

Purple Plaid Wrap

Brown Cardie

Brown Puma

Red Puma

Merrell Black Mary Jane

Gray Converse

Brown Suede Flats

Olive Infinity Cowl

Mosserie Pyrite Necklace

Mosserie Hoop Earrings

Black Flowers and Sparkly Gray Posts

Ribbon Flower Posts

J. Crew Pajamas

Blue Plaid Flannel Pajamas

Happy Thanksgiving!

2010-11-24T09:52:00.000-08:00

This is my favorite holiday, and I'm about to leave work and go home and make pies (Where's Patty Griffin when you need her?), and I'll confess that the thought of it just made me tear up a little.

I love stories like these from the women of Slate on family and tradition and cooking and what it means.

"Cooking my Mother's Gravy"

Short Term Missions

2010-11-23T09:27:00.000-08:00

I like the way this post discusses When Helping Hurts and short term missions...

Obviously, we don't think that churches or God's people mean to do harm in the countries where they go to serve and share the gospel. We don't think that churches want to use money to fund a trip or experience, instead of using that money in a more positive, useful, long-reaching, Kingdom building way. After living in Haiti, we simply recognize that serving a country like this is complex. People who have lived here for 20 years are still struggling to understand how best to love and care for the people of Haiti. So obviously, planning a healthy, short-term mission trip, from the States, thinking through all the ramifications, and making sure the trip's end result (for the Americans going, and the people in the country they are serving) is beneficial is also going to be complex. Probably more complex.

Lots of ministries in Haiti need money. Orphanages need generators. Children's homes need new roofs. So, sending a team of people to play with orphans, instead of sending money for a generator is a hard call to make. If two team members stayed home and sent the money it would cost them to actually go, an orphanage could have a generator. Complex issues to think through. Sending a team to build a roof on a children's home in a country where local men are in desperate need for work, is again...a hard call to make. How can a short term team pour into Haiti in a sustainable, healthy way?

From All Things Hendrick via Rage Against the Minivan

Convicted of Coveting Cool

2010-11-23T08:49:00.000-08:00

Although I am old and more Martha Stewart wannabe than hipster, I think this applies--applies no matter what cool(ish) identity I'm chasing. Oh, and also a comfort to Carter, who cannot grow a beard. ;)

What I’m suggesting is that we need to think more about what it means to be a Christian on both the form and content level. What does it mean to truly embody the call of Christ in our lives? Can we embody that selfless, humble, transcendent Gospel of Christ when we look the part of a self-focused, vain, trendy hipster?

I think we need to deal with this dissonance, and confront the implications of cool head on. I think we need to redefine cool in terms that aren’t as much about consuming the right sorts of things or having privileged knowledge of what is or isn’t fashionable, as much as about the things that are truly attractive and appealing about our faith.

The coolness of Christianity comes not from how fashionable or trendy Christians are, but rather from how well we embody the humility and charity and love of Christ in our lives.

In a world that constantly reinforces our own hubris and obsession with self, true revolution is that which points us outward. And this is my hope for the Christian hipster. That in the midst of this business of creating new perceptions and correcting some of the skewed priorities of evangelicalism, the focus should always be on Christ and his kingdom, rather than on ourselves, our skinny jeans, and our strategically overgrown mountain man beards.

Excerpted from The Search via Rage Against the Minivan

Cleaning Up at the Shower

2010-11-18T13:17:00.001-08:00

Look at my brilliant and beautiful hostesses! These girls know how to throw a party.

Music? Awesome playlist especially created for the event.

Food? Watch out cuz you about to pig out on yogurt parfaits and fancy cheeses and petit fours.

Tablescapes? They lay out a mean fallish book theme.

Personal touches? We got the inside of Corduroy Bear as a sign-in book, ladylike tea party action, Tazo tea bag party favors, low-key children's book quiz, and my own personal mug.

I've shamelessly stolen all these pictures directly from Molly's blog because I liked the image collages... and because I couldn't figure out how to save pictures from Shutterfly. I'm a dumb.

Mom and Sara were there, looking hot.

Molly made this awesome banner for Miss Charlotte Bradly. Bradly told me she loved it.

We socialized.

I got a little weepy reading what everyone wrote for their inscription in the book.

Yeah, I got to keep all those centerpiece books. Word.

We ate like champs.

Our bouncer, Jack, kept out the riff raff.

Madewell Likes

2010-11-17T14:26:00.001-08:00

Aberdeen Oxford

Silk Peasant Blouse

Novella Capelet

Slowly but Surely

2010-11-17T11:56:00.000-08:00

We got the Flor rug tiles earlier this week. After the amazing shower on Sunday, boxes and bags are still everywhere and need to be sorted and find homes, but the room itself is starting to come together.

Next on the agenda? Making the bedding. Crib skirt, I'm looking at you first...

What do you think of something similar to this for trim along the bottom of the skirt?

Journaling Birth

2010-11-10T09:54:00.001-08:00

I really love this idea from Fly Through Our Window...

My New Best Friend

2010-11-08T08:36:00.001-08:00

We recently acquired the Cooking Channel, and I cannot emphasize this enough, IT'S AWESOME. Even Carter is singing it's praises. A little more hipster, a little more challenging, a little less obnoxious (cough, Rachel and Sandra): it's a much better version of the Food Network.

Here's who I've been loving...

1. Mo RoI have had a serious crush on Mo Rocca and his glasses since his stint on the Daily Show, and he's the apparent face of the Cooking Channel. Sigh. He so dreamy.

2. Jamie Oliver gardens and grills and throws things together low key style.

3. Um, messy, sweet, brilliant Julia Child is on everyday when I go home for lunch. They even have old school greatness.

4. Chuck's Day Off is also smart, fresh, perfectly-curated restaurant food that I could cook, too. Plus, Chuck has a fun accent.

5. But Kelsey's Essentials is the STUFF.

Kelsey is my new best friend. She makes real food, do-able food and actually teaches some great techniques... which is sorta my complaint about the Food Network. They're more about making fancy Hamburger Helper with chocolate sprinkles in less than 10 minutes. Don't get me wrong. I still watch and love Ina, but the rest of them are appealing to a different crowd, I guess. I feel like the Cooking Channel is food that certainly would take a little longer, but it's like taking a cooking class for free. I feel like I'm learning things when I watch... and it's not nearly as slick and produced from what I've seen. Kelsey seems to be the most bubbly of the bunch, but I really like what she does. Look at her up there. She even wearing an Anthropologie dress for goodness sakes. What's not to love?

SOLD

2010-11-08T08:30:00.000-08:00

Mattress and box springs? SOLD

TV Stand? SOLD

Yellow trunk? SOLD

Big desk? SOLD

(Look, the buyer even sent me a picture of the desk in her new office. She had all kind of plans for it.)

Here's to tearing it up Craiglist and clearing out the nursery for good.

You're Amazing

2010-11-05T07:49:00.000-07:00

We had our most interesting Craigslist transaction to date last night. The buyer had been sending me essay length text messages for a few days, each punctuated with excessive exclamation marks. Last night was the hand off, but they were a little late because they got in an accident on their way to our place. When I told her coming late wasn't a problem she texted, "You're amazing! I feel bad, I don't even know your name!!" I'll confess I got a little weirded out by a potential Craigslist crazy being superfluously friendly. When they showed up, the buyer was indeed a sweet, sweet girl who was clearly high out of her mind. Slurring and mild stumbling and loving every single thing in our living room. This explained so much.

We completed our transaction, and away she went, giggling with delight over her vintage yellow trunk.

The End

Cleaning House

2010-11-05T07:44:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I get really excited about doing laundry and washing all our bedding and Lu's blankets and vacuuming and bathing that little dog. It feels good. I think it's one of my most fulfilling check marks on the running list. I really like to get it all done in one day. Then I just roll around on everything, feeling so clean and fresh and accomplished.

Observations from Jury Duty Part III

2010-11-04T12:30:00.000-07:00

In the future, I'm definitely going to pipe up with some crazy story during the jury selection process about how I'm traumatized about something or another and cannot offer an unbiased opinion about, well, anything really. Definitely coming up with that now. The key story elements will be as follows: my entire family, my house and car being broken into on the same day, and the persistent violated and now vengeful state in which I exist.

It was my observation that the attorneys picked the first twelve non-oversharing, non-crazy-storytelling peeps in the jury pool. Since panelists one and two had both had robbery/ID theft/anger issues, my neighbor number three and I were the first two picked. My theory was just to lay low and not say anything and get looked over. Obviously, wrong.

But the trial was short. We heard all the evidence and deliberated and came to a verdict in one day. It was pretty clear cut and our vote was unanimous. Defendant was not negligent in her driving and not responsible for plaintiff's medical bills. (I'm allowed to share this now.)

My other personal verdicts of the day include:

1. Plaintiff needs to cut off his ponytail and take a shower before appearing in court again. And probably shave, too, but that was the least of his image issues. I'm not expecting him to wear a suit, but everybody can lick their hand and smooth down their hair a little. The defense attorney could have given him some tips in the slick hair department.
2. Having been arrested for child abuse sorta undermines one's claims of starting a charity to help women and children. They kinda cancel each other out.
3. I'm fairly certain that this was the plaintiff's attorney's very first case ever. Plaintiff should have hired Jim Adler, the tough smart lawyer. Jim Adler can get you some undeserved money pronto.

My last object of note is the 1000 piece cat puzzle that was on the shelf in our jury room. Very curious.

Observations from Jury Duty Part II

2010-11-02T09:20:00.000-07:00

Universal Observations:

Don't wear boots when you have to go through security.

When told they won't have access to a bathroom for over an hour, women turn into wild beasts, trampling each other to get to the ladies' room.

People don't listen to instructions.

People don't listen to other people's questions and like to reword the exact same question and ask it again. For the fun.

People freak their freak when told they can't eat for an hour and a half.

Most people really want to follow the rules and not get in trouble. Older women are especially concerned.

Personal Observations:

I shouldn't freak out about being a few minutes late because, at this kind of party, there will probably be someone much more tardy than I and there's no way they're starting on time anyway.

Riding the bus isn't too bad.

I love sweater weather!

Observations from Jury Duty Part I

2010-11-02T08:57:00.000-07:00

Universal Observations:

The court system provides a fascinating cross section of humanity.

Some people like to talk to strangers a lot. Some people don't.

People are freaked out (and sometimes belligerent) about missing work and losing their jobs right now.

In a group of a thousand local people, chances are you'll know a couple of them.

A collective groan makes everyone feel better about waiting.

Scarves, although cute, can make your whole body really hot and sometimes make you feel like you're suffocating and dying.

Personal Observations:

I seriously don't like to sit in the middle of a mass of hundreds of people. Against a wall is better.

I should always carry a pen, but I don't.

When I'm feeling like I'm about to pass out, sitting on the toilet is a gross option, balancing on the sink is too precarious, so sitting right on the bathroom floor will have to do.

Old ladies will take care of you if you're in a jam.

Saturday Morning

2010-11-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

We rode bikes.

Carter pretended to read for class but really just girltalked with me.

I drank coffee.

We watched the changes around the Kimble and giggled at the impressive number of people headed into the Bird Mart.