A successful failure

I am, overall, disappointed in my 30 posts in 30 days project. I was on such a roll when I started, then stalled out with only 18 posts done by the last day of the month. I will say that even with only 18 posts I managed to top my annual output for 2010, but still...

Then, this morning, I realized that I could probably pump out 12 posts today. So I did (see below for my "Best of" 2011 series). Now I feel a little bad that I wrote 12 posts in one day instead of spending more quality time with my kids, though I don't really think they missed me.

So there you go. It's November 30th. This is my 30th post this month. Project: done. I may even do it again next year, though perhaps then I'll have better success at posting once a day. How lovely and moderate does that sound? But if that fails, there's always another "best of" series. It's a beautiful thing.

Best idea of 2011

Well, to be fair, the idea came last year. But this year was all about fruition. Seriously, it's the best idea we've had in a long time.

Best continuing editions of 2011

It's easy for big siblings to get lost in the nuttiness that accompanies a new baby, but these two have not had a moment of jealousy. They are sweet and kind to Cole, they take prodigious care of each other, and they remain two of the sweetest apples of my eye.

(I have to give credit for these great photos to my friend Laureen. She has a great eye and a love for children--a perfect combo.)

Best opportunity to peer into Earth's gaping maw of 2011

One of the most unique things about living in rural Missouri is that we get to read our own water meter (which is fun to say with an affected British accent, as I learned from my sister--Holla, Megan! Try it: Wuah-tuh Mee-tuh. Be sure to be lilting).

The first time we were scheduled (shhheduled?) to read our own meter, I actually couldn't find it. I walked around and around the house looking for it, flipping open little panels, poking at strange cords and wires, all to no avail. Then Jeremy came home from work and pointed out a tiny manhole cover near the edge of the lawn. The water meter.

To read the water meter, you first have to pry open the metal lid, which is surprisingly heavy and seems perfectly content to stay nestled into its little spot on the lawn. Once you get the lid off, you have to ease out a little plastic cover, which will reveal nothing but darkness, sadness, spiders, and a little, tiny meter about a foot below ground. Then you have to steel yourself, reach in, and flip open the meter cover.


Once you've recorded the number, flip the lid closed, replace the other lids, and spend the next hour feeling like you have spiders trying to tickle their way into all of your darkest crevices. If that's not bad enough, you are surely welcome to reflect in despair about how much your water costs, even though you have to read your own meter.

Seriously, there ought to be a discount. Especially when the meter is covered in a foot of snow. Look forward to that.

Best blog post of 2011

Clearly, there aren't really that many posts to choose from, but as I was scrolling through my list, this one caught my eye. It's the post about Clara and Jeremy's first days of school/work after our move to Missouri. There's really nothing special about that post, but it represents the promise of new beginnings and fresh opportunity--and that's a promise worth remembering.

Best movie that made me surprisingly misty of 2011

Okay--don't judge me.

I know you were expecting me to talk about Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2 (since I have sworn a solemn vow to never speak of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1. Horrible movie. Horrible). But anyone can shed a tear when Harry is bravely walking into the Forbidden Forest alone to face certain death at the hands of the evil V-V-Voldemort. It takes a lot more nuance and irony to be able to cry at anything involving Jack Black.

I am both nuanced and ironic.

Best movie I didn't think I would like of 2011

Jeremy and I don't really see that many movies, in the theater or otherwise, so when he suggested I give up two hours of my life to watch Tron, of all things (Tron!), I scoffed.

Then, this summer, we were staying with my parents for several weeks, and lo, it arrived via Netflix.

That's a situation that's difficult to say no to. So I didn't.

Much to my surprise, I discovered something that many others had discovered before me: Tron is awesome.

I was totally seduced by the special effects, the graphics, Jeff Bridges looking young again, the music--the music!!--and Jeff Bridges looking young again. It's a great flick.

Best nonfiction of 2011

The best nonfiction book I read this year was Rebecca Skloot's The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. I think it was published in 2010, but I didn't read it until this summer, thanks to my sister's recommendation (Holla, Megan!).

Immortal tells the story of a poor black woman in the 1950s who goes to the "colored" ward of Johns Hopkins University Hospital for treatment of a particularly aggressive form of cervical cancer. She eventually dies, but cancer cells taken (without consent) from her cervix eventually become the first cells to be successfully grown in a laboratory setting. Hence, her cells are "immortal," and become--to quote Skloot's website--"one of the most important tools in medicine, vital for developing the polio vaccine, cloning, gene mapping, in vitro fertilization, and more. Henrietta’s cells have been bought and sold by the billions, yet she remains virtually unknown, and her family can’t afford health insurance."

Doesn't that sound compelling? It is.

Skloot's research is absolutely exhaustive. She spent 10 years earning the trust of Lacks's surviving family members and writing the book, and her personal connection is evident throughout. Her subjectivity weaves itself into the narrative masterfully, without sacrificing Skloot's legitimacy as a journalist, and the book reads almost like a novel. The story is fascinating, strange, sad, and poignant--truly one of those hard-to-put-down, hard-to-forget stories.

Seriously, I highly recommend this book. I totally have a writer's crush on Skloot, too. Almost she persuadeth me to become a science writer.

Best fiction of 2011

I feel like I read a lot of books this year, and I really can't remember what most of them were. (That's what I get for not updating my GoodReads account--curses!)

But I guess if I can't even remember the books, they can't have been all that terrific, so the prize for Best Fiction 2011 goes to Tracy Chevalier's Remarkable Creatures.

I'm even farther behind with Remarkable Creatures than with The Immortal Cells of Henrietta Lacks, since Creatures was first published in 2009. Nevertheless, I read it this year, and I enjoyed it very much indeed.

Remarkable Creatures tells the story of Mary Anning, a working class young woman in 19th Century England who has an uncanny gift for uncovering dinosaur fossils in the cliffs near her home. She is fascinated by fossils large and small, and sharing in her enthusiasm is the poor but genteel spinster Elizabeth Philpot. The novel pits the two women against the elements, the male-dominated world of geology and science, the prevailing wisdom about dinosaurs and the creation, and even--at times--against each other.

The novel evokes a time when science and religion were much more closely intertwined than they are today--often to the detriment of both. Yet in some ways I found myself reflecting on my own intermingling of science and religion, and how an understanding of both can lead to a strong, stable view of the natural world--and of God.

If you read Chevalier's Girl with a Pearl Earring and weren't exactly in love with it (as I was not; I mean, I liked it all right, but it was not an overwhelmingly positive read for me), don't pre-judge Remarkable Creatures. It's really quite a good book, and I liked it even more when I learned (much to my surprise) that Mary Anning and Elizabeth Philpot were real women--women with a zeal for discovery and a passion for understanding the world around them.

Best kitchen appliance of 2011

Oh, how I wish I could be writing about this:


I mean, seriously--can you imagine making six waffles at once? Be still my heart. But since I don't have one, I can't legitimately tell you about the glories of the Cuisinart Six Slice Traditional Waffle Maker. Maybe next year.

I am happy, though, to be able to report on this little gem instead:


I think I mentioned this wonderful machine before, but in case you didn't believe me, let me say again how wonderful the Cuisinart Ice Cream, Yogurt, and Sorbet Maker is. It doesn't have a huge capacity, so if you're trying to feed an army you may have to look elsewhere. But for a small-to-medium family, it's just about perfect.

We have used this ice cream maker literally dozens of times since Jeremy got it for his birthday in July. It doesn't need salt or ice; you just put the little bowl insert into the freezer, then when you're ready to make ice cream just pour in the ingredients and turn it on!

When we first got it, we spent a lot of time following recipes. But it didn't take us long to realize a few things: 1)we just couldn't stomach eating very much "real" ice cream (even Jeremy agrees that ice cream made with just heavy cream is just too, well, heavy); 2)a lot of things taste good frozen; and 3)recipes are for suckers.

Okay, that's a little harsh. I actually love recipes and use them faithfully in many areas of my general cuisine. But let me tell you how liberating it was to discover that you can put nearly anything sweet and milky-creamy into that machine and it will turn it into a sweet, cold, bowl of pleasure. We even made a few batches using nonfat milk (not Jeremy's favorite, though he does like one percent). Nonfat milk produces more ice crystals than cream does (naturally), but again, if you're looking for something sweet and cold on a hot summer evening, it definitely fits the bill. We even whisked a bit of milk into whatever yogurt we had in the fridge, and voila--frozen yogurt.

Just wait until next year, when--fingers crossed!--I can report on ice cream-topped waffles--made six at a time.

Best new snack of 2011

I saw these Newtons Fruit Thins at the grocery store this summer and mentioned them to my mom. I was thinking they were a throwback to this kind of thin fruit-filled "cookie" my parents used to like to eat on road trips. We kids were not as keen on them. We all called them "sawdust cookies." I think anything with the texture (and taste) of sawdust is a liability on a road trip, but for some reason, my parents thought were fantastic.

Anyway, when my mom came up to help me after Cole was born, she bought me a box, and we soon discovered (to my elation and my mother's chagrin) that they in fact were NOT sawdust cookies. Instead, they are thin, crisp circles of deliciousness. We ended up eating a lot of boxes when my mom was in town.

I've tried all of the varieties other than the chocolate raspberry (only because I haven't seen it in my store, though I'll be on the lookout now), but my favorite is the citrus cranberry oat. Delectable. Think of how good it would taste as the accompaniment to some freshly made ice cream.

Also, I love that Nabisco's url is nabiscoworld.com. How heady is that?

Best move of 2011

Yes, that says best MOVE, not best movie (though I'll be getting to that, too).

With so many to choose from (ha!), it's hard to pin down the best move of 2011.

OK. It's not that hard.

We technically moved just twice in 2011. In early January, we moved from St. Paul to Syracuse. Then, in July, we moved from Syracuse to Missouri, via Utah (since it's totally on the way, right?).

We really enjoyed our time in Syracuse. We loved seeing so many dear friends from our first years living there, and we made several new, wonderful friends that I know we'll cherish forever. It was a good five months. But, at the same time, it was only five months. We knew we weren't moving there forever, which is why the best move of 2011 goes to...Missouri.

I was never one of those little girls who dreamed of growing up and moving to rural Missouri (strange, I know). But now that I'm hear I can truthfully say that it's not nearly as bad as I feared! (I know I have some 'local' readers on this blog, but surely you can sympathize with my apprehensions about moving here without ever having seen it!) There are so many things I like about our new home. It's a lovely part of the country. It's a cozy community. We feel truly at home in our new branch (congregation) at church. We love the stability of a paycheck that comes every month, all year long.

Most important, we love that we don't have to move in five months. We love that very much. In fact, we're almost to our five month mark, so in just a few weeks, we will have lived here for longer than we lived in our past two homes. That's a very pleasant feeling, indeed.

Jurassic Snark

I should've known my 30-day blogging project was doomed six months ago, when we decided to reunion-ize Thanksgiving with a trip to Denver with my side of the family.

But even with a family trip to the lovely arid West, I still might have had a shot of maintaining my blogging if not for how exhausted I was from outrunning a T.Rex with my boys and my nephew:


Don't I look like a dork? Classic.

My sister (annoyingly) managed to look much cuter during her own escape:


You may notice several faces missing from these pictures. Jeremy stayed back to grade projects. My brother and sister went shopping. Clara and my mom escaped early from the chaos after Clara shook the earth with an ill-timed scream in front of the awesome animatronic T.Rex. My dad didn't care to wait in line for the photo, and my brother-in-law was waiting outside the exhibit.

The T.Rex ate my sister's baby. Farewell, sweet Izzy.

Two-fer

Jeremy and my brother Christopher have a few very important things in common: they are both the youngest, they are both the only boys in their families, and they both have three older sisters. They have other great things in common, too (juvenile humor comes most immediately to mind), but those first few things were certainly enough to instantly create a bond that has only deepened over the years. I really love Jeremy, and I really love my brother, and I'm glad they're friends.

And if you're wondering about the best way to raise a son who is sensitive, values peace, understands women, and knows when to lay low, I'll give you this piece of advice: have three girls first.


Three cheers for two wonderful men. Huzzah!

Incidentally, you may notice an alarming amount of root beer in the background. This is easily explained as my family's annual root beer taste test. That might be worth of a post itself. (Here's a hint: Dad's Root Beer did not come out on top.)

The long awaited birthday post

I mentioned way back on November 4th that Clara turned five. I had every intention of giving her a more thorough birthday post, but here I am nearly two weeks later. But, I've done my due diligence and interviewed Clara to see what exactly is going on in her five-year-old mind these days. Here's what I learned:

What's your favorite color? Pink. Why? Because I like it. Because I'm a girl.

What do you want to be when you grow up? A paleontologist. Still? Yeah! I still like dinosaurs! And I want to be a mom. Maybe the boy I get married to will go to work too, so I'll have to pick up a sitter for the kids.

How many kids do you want to have? Ummm... Six. Three boys and three girls.

What will you name them? Jacob. Sarah. Ummm, here comes another one... Samuel. And Alex. That's a girl. And David. And my last girl will have the same name as me. Clara. I love that name.

Where will you live when you grow up? Right here in Maryville!

What do you like to do? I like to swing, build with blocks, read books, play, and also play the piano and organ.

What's your favorite food? Everything! I like all food. Except fresh tomatoes. I like canned tomatoes. And I'm allergic to peanuts.

What's your favorite song? All songs!

What are some of your talents? Dancing and swinging. I'm also really good at snapping. Write that down.

Where would you go if you could go anywhere? The North Pole. I'd really like to see Santa. I'll probably have to take four planes to get there. Maybe five.

Let's choose a picture of you. Which one do you want? That one. Holla! I love that one.


Happy Birthday, Sis.

For you, Mom

When Clara was born early, my mom immediately hopped on a plane, flew to Syracuse, and stayed for two weeks. She cooked for us, cleaned our apartment, and drove me back and forth to the hospital to visit Clara, since I couldn't drive and was managing to have a very slow c-section recovery--probably from the stress of Clara's time in the hospital and all the back-and-forthing.

The thing is, when I was in the NICU with Clara, my mom was huddled in a waiting room, feverish and miserable, because the whole time she was really quite ill. She finally realized she didn't just have a typical head cold, so she dragged herself to urgent care, where she discovered she actually had pneumonia and was treated with IV antibiotics. She was truly miserable, but never once complained. She just kept on going and took exquisite care of us during a very stressful time. She didn't even get to see Clara until the day before she left, when she'd been on the antibiotics long enough for the nurses to let her into the NICU wearing a surgical mask. I still remember her expression of love and wonder as she held that tiny girl in her arms for the first time.

Not quite two years later, my mom drove with me and then 19-month-old Clara from Syracuse to Coeur d'Alene. It was a truly miserable drive, compounded by my pregnancy, some truly horrible weather, a sad little toddler, and--of course--the world's tiniest car. Three months later, she came back to Coeur d'Alene after Jonathan's birth. She still cooked and cleaned for us, but she also spent hours entertaining Clara and making her feel like she was the most special little girl on the planet.

Just two months ago, my mom came again, this time to Missouri to help me recover from yet another birth. She played with my kids, talked with me for hours, did my laundry, cooked my meals, and made me feel capable of taking care of three kids by myself. By the time she left, I was strong enough (physically and emotionally) to give independent mothering a whirl again. She helped me get strong enough.

And nearly eight years ago, my mom flew from California to Utah in chilly late February to wait with me and Jeremy as we anticipated the birth of our first baby. Once again, she cooked and cleaned and talked. She helped us time my early contractions. She told us it was time to go to the hospital. And then she prayed and cried with Jeremy while I was taken into emergency surgery to try to save our little Sam's life. She stayed with us after we made the decision to take Sam off of life support, and she sat near us while we waited for Sam's heart to beat its last beat. She held him and loved him. She and Jeremy's mom dressed him for burial. She sat with me at his graveside service. She listened to me talk and cry and wonder about the experience for years. She still does.

My mom has been with me to welcome all four of my beautiful children into the world. She has loved each of them. She has loved me. She is the one who taught me how to be a mother, because she is my mother--a wonderful mother, full of fire and light and fun and passion and compassion. But she's also been more than my mother. She's been my dearest friend. I love her, I treasure her, and today I also say,

Happy Birthday, Mom.

Hair Fairy

Every morning when Clara wakes up, Jeremy and I are eager to see what the hair fairy has done to her in the night. Usually the hair fairy does something truly stunning, often involving the weaving of a tightly tangled rat's nest in the back or in a mop of loopy, wild curls on top. It's never quite the same, but it's nearly always memorably tangled.

Clara's hair is a blessing...and a curse. People love to compliment her on her curls, and when her hair is done well it really is cute. But overall her hair is a real source of tribulation to her (and, I'll be honest, to me). She does not like to have it brushed because of the tangles, and every morning we do our battle of wills in my effort to send her out the door at least a half step above the "wild animal" look.

(I should add that I'm probably getting my just desserts with Clara, since I *vaguely* recall giving my mom all kinds of grief about getting my hair done. In my defense, though, she really was rough with the brush. And once she burned me on my forehead with the curling iron--an act of aggression that I'm convinced was retribution for my giving her a hard time. Thoughts, Mom? :)

Lately, Clara's hair has been getting increasingly long and unwieldy. She's fond of telling me she wishes she had "long, flat hair," but that's just never going to happen. And when she said that even with her curls she wanted to grow it out, I just had to count to three before telling her that everything that made her sad about getting her hair done would just be worse with long hair. Finally, I convinced her to let me cut it, and we got the job done this afternoon. She seems happy with the result, but I am truly elated. I feel like a huge weight (of curly blonde hair) has been lifted from my shoulders. And I think I did an all right job, despite my lack of know-how. I do like being able to take her to get her hair cut, but in times like these, you know...

Here are photos: one before, two after. As a bonus, you can see the truth of my housekeeping in the background. What a great day!

In awesome wonder

Every once in awhile I see something so breathtakingly amazing that I can't help but feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for the miracle of creation. This is one of those times: Earth from above, in a series of 18 time-lapse photographs taken from the International Space Station. It's truly remarkable, and reminds me how small each of us is. Sometimes it's good to feel small.

Earth | Time Lapse View from Space, Fly Over | NASA, ISS from Michael König on Vimeo.

Two months

Cole's two-month "birthday" was yesterday. Two months! I took him in to the pediatrician today for his well baby check and learned that his weight is in the 90th percentile, but that his length and head circumference are only in the 75th percentile. Who would've thought that Jeremy and I could produce a child with only a moderately large noggin? Wonders never cease.

Cole is truly a delightful baby. He is good-natured and pleasant. He sleeps eight hours in a row at night. He has a sweet little smile. He is soft and warm and snuggly. Sometimes I look at him and think, "Two months ago, he wasn't here, and now he's this whole little life!" Sounds so obvious, I know, but it feels like a little miracle every time I think about it. We surely do love that baby.

Flash back

This post takes us back many moons, but I feel like I didn't get to half the blogging I should have this summer. Darn pregnancy!

In late June, we went with Jeremy's family to Lava Hot Springs, Idaho for a family reunion. I'd never been to Lava (and may never have gone if I'd known the locals pronounce "lava" as in rhymes with "have-a"). Pronunciation challenges aside, it was a beautiful place. We rented an old church house-turned-schoolhouse-turned vacation rental, and it was full of charming quirks. Most important, it was full of space, which made it a lot easier for a family of 21 to gather. Had I not been pregnant and once again preparing to move across the country, I may have even found the whole thing relaxing! As it was, even without the personal capacity for relaxation, it was a fun and memorable trip.

One of the greatest amenities in the vacation rental was the big gym. Jonathan and Clara spent hours there with their cousins. The kids played lots of dodge ball, with two of Jeremy's sisters and our two oldest nieces playing tirelessly with the younger kids. Clara was kind of afraid and didn't play much, but Jonathan had a blast. I don't think he quite got the point of the game, since no one ever threw the ball at him (he's pretty small, after all), but he loved the thrill of running up and down the court. And as you can see from the video, he surely thought he was playing.



We also had a family talent show, which showcased some pretty memorable and fantastic skills. Jeremy and his sisters even did an anti-drug rap from they all remember from their childhood, where Jeremy and his sister Rebekah were in a public service announcement with pro basketball players like Isiah Thomas, Doc Rivers, John Salley, and Kevin McHale. In truth, I have a video of the four of them doing the rap, but Jeremy has declared it "not blog-worthy." Trust me when I say this, though: it may be the most blog-worthy item in my photographic archives. Alas. I'll yield to Jeremy on this one. For now.

We also took our water bugs to the big Lava swimming hole, though not to the hot springs themselves, since they were quite...volcanic. Regardless, the kids love being in the water and had a grand time. I was grateful to be pregnant and therefore unavailable to join my crazy nieces in a leap off the super high dive. I just might have done it otherwise.




And as with any good vacation, we stayed up way too late every night and had an increasingly manic set of children to deal with. But they loved every single minute.

Too big for a bassinet

And now he sleeps in a big crib. Isn't he still too small to be too big for anything?

I love seeing Cole swaddled in a sweet little bundle. He only gets swaddled at night--part of our "night is different from day" sleep philosophy. Pretty soon he'll be too big to be swaddled, too.

This is all happening too fast this go around.

Snow and rainbows

We woke up to snow yesterday morning, much to Clara and Jonathan's delight. It wasn't much snow, and it was certainly of poor quality, but that didn't seem to matter, and we dressed them in their snow clothes at 7:00 in the morning so they'd be able to play before Clara went to school at 7:30. They had a grand time, even if the snow was already to hard and icy to make snow angels. (That didn't stop them from trying, but neither of them could even sink through the crust when they lay down!)

The snow looked bright and lovely, but it's a reminder that winter really is coming, and that I need to start getting more creative about things to do inside. It surely is a lot easier to watch the kids ride bikes for an hour than to entertain them inside, but I am determined to be up to the task!

We started our plan of creative productivity by making rainbow pancakes for lunch. They took a pretty long time to make, but the kids loved stirring the batter and were uncharacteristically patient as they waited for their pancakes to cook.

I made all seven colors off the rainbow, having been duly chastised the day before when I made only six colors of dry rainbow rice for a little craft project (which we still haven't done). Clara looked at the six little muffin tins of rice, wrinkled up her nose, and said, "Where's indigo?" Great question. I'm not convinced that anyone really even knows what indigo is, exactly, but I faked it with the pancakes by having indigo be a blue-ish purple and having "violet" be a pinkish purple. All parties were satisfied--and well fed. I ate four of my rainbow pancakes, and Jonathan ate three. But Clara ate the whole rainbow. That's my girl.

The write stuff

So my friend Britney issued a little challenge for herself (and anyone else!) on her blog: to write 30 blog posts in 30 days during the month of November for "National Blog Post Month" or "NaBloPoMo." I guess it's kind of a phenomenon in the blogging world, and it seemed like a great motivation to me to get back into blogging mode. Plus, I assume it's a bit of a riff on "National Novel Writing Month" (or NaNoWriMo), which I first heard about in grad school. For NaNoWriMo, you write an entire novel-length work during the month of November. My sister Megan and I have attempted NaNoWriMo a couple of times (though I think she's come much closer than I have), but we've never made it. How much easier it seemed to post something to my blog every day for thirty days.

Then I realized something, after waking up in my recliner for the last two nights after falling asleep at about 8:30 with a baby lying on my chest:

I am exhausted.

It seems strange that I wouldn't have realized this before. After all, I have an eight-week-old baby who, despite his very many charms, still doesn't quite sleep through the night, meaning I don't quite sleep through the night. Add to this the fact that he likes to be awake (and held) in the evenings, usually from the minute the other kids go to bed, and I am with at least one (usually more) of my delightful children from about 7:00 a.m. until 9:00 p.m. every day. And then I fall asleep on the couch. I stumble into bed and fall into a dreamless sleep until Cole wakes me up again, and then we hang out until he's ready to go back to sleep. What I'm saying, as you may see, is that if my eyes are open, I've got a child with me.

I hope you won't misinterpret this as complaining. I enjoy mommyhood, on the aggregate, and I actually quite treasure my extended evening time with Cole. Nevertheless, it's a tiring proposition, and I have little mental energy for writing or being creative, at least on any kind of consistent basis.

What this all means, I guess, is not that I've given up on NaBloPoMo (which is, incidentally, just the kind of abbreviation that I bet would annoy Jeremy if I said it too often), but rather that I've given up on posting every single day. Nevertheless, I still have high hopes to finish 30 posts this month, if only because--at the very least--I know it would make my mother happy. I have a hunch she knows just how I feel.

The end of the future as we know it

For many years, Jeremy and I have figured that we'd know exactly when the future arrived because everyone in the world would be eating Dippin' Dots. This assumption, of course, is based on Dippin' Dots' carefully crafted slogan: "The Ice Cream of the Future."

Well, I have some bad news: the future may never get here, because Dippin' Dots filed for bankruptcy.

I have mixed feelings about this development. Obviously, I'm a bit sad that the future is over before it even started. Not only are Dippin' Dots gone, but I see a pathetic dearth of hover vehicles driving all of the carefully constructed sky highways. On the other hand, if the future was going to be determined by a nearly tasteless pile of liquid-nitrogen-frozen ice cream beads made by a company based in Paducah, Kentucky, then I'm not sure the future was destined to be very bright in the first place.

Nevertheless, the end of Dippin' Dots feels like the end of an era, and Jeremy and I are scrambling to figure out what the next sign of the future will be. When people finally start riding around on Segways? When robots make my breakfast toast? I'm at a total loss. My only comfort now is in reading back issues of Popular Science magazine. Because according to them, "The Future Is Now."

For Cole, on his blessing day

To a Child
By Sophie Jewett

The leaves talked in the twilight, dear;
Hearken the tale they told:
How in some far-off place and year,
Before the world grew old,

I was a dreaming forest tree,
You were a wild, sweet bird
Who sheltered at the heart of me
Because the north wind stirred;

How, when the chiding gale was still,
When peace fell soft on fear,
You stayed one golden hour to fill
My dream with singing, dear.

To-night the self-same songs are sung
The first green forest heard;
My heart and the gray world grow young—
To shelter you, my bird.

Birthday

Today we've been celebrating five years of this face:


But of course we've been celebrating it so much we are too fatigued to actually write about it. More tomorrow...

Brothers

Staycation

I recently decided to take my three kids, sans Jeremy, to visit a friend in St. Paul, with a stop to see another friend en route in Des Moines. It seemed like a great idea at the time. After all, what could be more fun and easy than driving seven hours in the world's tiniest car with a four-year-old, a three-year-old, and a six-week-old baby?

(Incidentally, I think there's something wrong with me. I think nothing of taking the kids on day-long outings but feel a bit nauseated at the thought of taking them to the grocery store. I should do more grocery shopping on my day trips.)

At any rate, I never had the opportunity to test my braverism, because all of my friends and their kids ended up sick. Curses!

But since I'd already told the kids about our trip up north, I figured I had to make it up to them somehow, so we planned a wee staycation instead.


We started out with a movie and a slumber party in the front room--in sleeping bags, no less! For the movie, we opted for the kids' first-ever viewing of The Lion King, fast forwarding through all the sad and scary parts. That made for about a 20 minute movie. (I haven't watched that movie in years, but seriously: Mufasa? What a downer!)

The next morning, I managed to wrastle them all into the car for a trip to Kansas City. We didn't even shove off until 10:00, and even though I was silently swearing while pumping up the tires on my double jogging stroller, I managed to hardly yell at anyone or throw any breakables. We'll call it a win.

I really dug what little I saw of KC. What a great city! I have always been something of a city girl at heart. I love the energy of cities and how much there is to do there. I love the parks and the fountains and the art and the distinct little neighborhoods and the restaurants and the museums and the architecture... Kansas City is a nice size, has tons to do, and feels truly thriving and immense compared to our little hamlet of 11,000 souls. I had fun being there.

I took the kids to Science City, which, you may have guessed, is a science museum. When we arrived, the museum was literally overrun with elementary school kids on field trips. Clara took this in stride, but Jonathan just kind of wandered around looking dazed. It only took one girl with a runny nose coming up and touching Cole's hand for me to decree that we needed to go out of the museum and have a snack, since Jonathan wasn't having any fun ("Yes I am," he weakly replied).

Luckily, since we'd gotten such a late start on the day (curse those jogging stroller wheels!), while we were munching we watched probably 300 children line up and leave. What a beautiful sight! I nearly cried. By the time we got back in, there was about an hour an a half left until closing, and we had our run of the place. Fantastic.






I'd planned to also take them to a place called Kaleidoscope, but the little snafu at the museum forced us to postpone that adventure for another time. But we were certainly hungry for dinner when we were done, so we headed over to the Crown Center, where I surprised them with dinner at Fritz's, which is a burger place that delivers food via model trains. Awesome. I knew about this because of my friend Emily's superb blog. My kids instantly recognized it, which I realized when Clara said, "You'd better take some pictures for our blog, too!" Consider it done, Sis.





Note: I tried to take a video of the train delivering our food, but it ended up being pretty wild as I lunged out to keep the box of food from dumping over as Jonathan and Clara eagerly reached to snatch it. Also, I think that at some point I will both take and post a normal picture of myself. Wouldn't that be something?