Making houses

About a week before Jonathan was born, I was bustling around in the kitchen doing the dishes, and I could hear Clara playing in her room. She kept saying "Making houses, making houses" in kind of a sing-song voice, so eventually I grew curious enough to see what she was doing. And what she was doing, as you can see, was making houses. I was truly impressed with her creative genius. We had no idea she could even stack her blocks that well, let alone create such an array of miniature marvels.

Adventures in babywearing, take 1

Give the people what they want

A vocal contingent of our worldwide readership has been demanding more pictures of our precious (and precocious) offspring. I have always tried not to make this only a "baby blog," but sometimes that's an impossible dream. Plus, I can't have any regrets about showing off my kids!


Jonathan was one week old yesterday, an event we celebrated by giving him a much appreciated sponge bath. He is (knock on wood) a delightful newborn, which makes everything in life seem all the more rosy. He does not, at least at this point, suffer from the day-night confusion that so plagued Clara (and her parents). Most of his wakeful time occurs during the day, so at night he wakes up just to eat then goes back to bed. I love him!


Clara is adjusting well enough to her new role as big sister. She gets really excited when she sees "Jon-than" and always wants to "hold it." And she likes to rip the hat off his head and softly stroke his hair (if only we could get the hat removal to be a little more gentle). We have obviously told her a time or two that it's important to be soft with Jonathan, because even when she's running toward him at full tilt she always reassuringly tells us, "Care-la soft! Care-la soft!" Indeed.


For anyone wondering how we've managed to help Clara adjust to having a baby brother in such a swift and healthy manner, we are happy to share our secret to success: treats. This girl has had more bits of sweeties and ice cream in the last week than she's probably had in the last year. Don't worry, though: we'll be weaning her from her sugary bounty soon enough.


As for me and Jeremy, we are somehow surviving--nay, thriving--on greatly reduced sleep and more than twice the amount of parenting than we had a week ago (how is it that when you double your progeny you more than double your workload? Talk about a paradox).


And of course very little of our sanity would be preserved without the able help of my mom, who has done more than her share of story reading, diaper changing, and meal fixing. Cheers all around!

Two Peas

My sister Megan pointed out what I thought was a great comparison between Clara and Jonathan. Here they are on going-home-from-the hospital day. Clara was 18 days old and weighed an even 5 pounds, and Jonathan was two days old and weighed 6 pounds, 10 ounces. What a difference nearly two pounds makes! And seriously, how cute are these kids?!

Jonathan Samuel

When I went in to the hospital for an extra non-stress test on Saturday, I had no idea that we'd have our baby just a few hours later. Nevertheless, our sweet Jonathan Samuel was born on Saturday, September 6 at 1:20. He weighed in at 6 pounds, 15 ounces and is 20 inches long. And despite being born four days earlier than we had planned, this was by far the least dramatic childbirth experience we've ever had! The surgery went very well, and we all came home from the hospital yesterday afternoon, just hours after my mom arrived from Utah.

Here I am not long after getting the big news that we'd be having Jonathan in about an hour! Note the look of relief on my face. (The last couple of weeks have been anxiety inducing.)

Jeremy prepped and ready for the OR.

My first time holding Jonathan.

Clara holding "Baby Jon-than" for the first time.

What more is there to say? We are happy to be home together and enjoying our beautiful, healthy baby.

Huntin' C-zn

So we live about a quarter of a mile from the Coeur d'Alene National forest (as you can see from our front yard), and just north of our neighborhood is a winding road that goes for about two miles into a canyon before ending at the heads of several trails. This morning at about 6:00, Jeremy was running up said canyon road, enjoying the crisp morning and keeping his eyes out for the sundry wildlife he typically encounters on his excursions into the weeelderness.
Then something happened that I can guarantee does not happen in every state in our fair nation.

As he was running up the road, he heard a truck bearing down on him. Just as he was getting slightly nervous and thinking the truck should probably slow down before it killed him, it pulled up next to him and stopped. Inside were two 20-something young hunters in full camoflauge. The one nearest to Jeremy rolled down his window, so Jeremy stopped.

"Excuse me," the hunter politely inquired. "Have you happened to see a deer run through here with an arrow in its side?"

"Uh, no," was Jeremy's eloquent reply.

"Oh. Okay. Thanks."

And off they drove.

Thus begins the north Idaho bowhunt. Jeremy is thinking of investing in an orange running shirt.

Talkin' 'bout a (whole food) revolution

I recently read two books by journalist/food guru Michael Pollan: The Omnivore's Dilemma and In Defense of Food. Dilemma reads as a pretty scathing indictment of the industrial food industry in the U.S., while In Defense of Food discusses what it might look like for an individual or family to more or less opt out of eating diets high in processed food and low in whole foods--like vegetables, grains, meats, etc.

We have long tried our best to eat healthful foods, to buy locally when feasible, and to "shop the periphery" of the grocery stores where most of the whole foods are kept. So most of what Pollan discussed really resonated with me.

But one thing we have consciously tried to do since I finished In Defense of Food is to make our meals more of a celebration. When we take the time to carefully prepare, serve, and eat our food, we tend to appreciate and value our food more. So what does this look like for us? Lately, it's primarily meant that we 1)prepare complete meals without using processed foods; 2)have stopped serving the food to ourselves in the dishes we cooked the food in. Yes, friends: no pots and pans on the table. This has made for more dishes after dinner, but when we started treating ourselves the same way we treat our company, I really think we started to value our food more--and our meals are much more relaxed.

So that's the start of our whole food revolution. Huzzah!

Meet me at the fair

One of our top ten regrets about leaving Syracuse several months before we'd planned is that we were unable to bask in the wonder and spectacle that is the Great New York State Fair. Jeremy and I have always been fair folk (which is different from "carnies," if you're taking notes), but we have never seen anything like unto the Great New York State Fair. We aren't much for carnival rides, but we love strolling through the animal barns, scurrying away from escaping pigs, and watching livestock and horse competitions.


So believe me when I say that we were prepared to be disappointed in our visit to last weekend's North Idaho Fair and Rodeo. And I would be wrong if I said that a few things failed to measure up. For one, there was no dairy pavilion selling 25 cent cups of white and chocolate milk. And there was no butter sculpture. And there was no place to get a cheap and delicious baked potato with all the fixins. (Yes. In Idaho.)


Those few (albeit significant) disappointments excepted, we thought it was quite a fun fair. Clara was way more into the animals this year, and she spent the whole afternoon saying, "Pigs! Horses! Donkeys! Ponies! Chickens! Cows! Rabbits!" hoping we would eventually work our way BACK through all of the barn buildings. Plus, at one point Jeremy and I were talking with a vendor, and when we turned around Clara was sitting in her stroller playing with a stuffed frog toy that (we assume) some admirer had given to her in response to her magnetic cuteness and charm. When we asked her where she got it, she said, "Man give it you." Maybe this is true, but sometimes she makes up stuff, like when we go to get her out of bed in the morning and she says things like, "Man knock window" or "Pony knock window" or "Dolphin knock window." Really anyone (or no one) could be knocking on her window or giving her plush frogs. It's almost impossible to say.


So there it is. We have chosen to embrace the North Idaho Fair and Rodeo as a marginally acceptable substitute for the Great New York State Fair. Join us in taking a deep sigh of relief.

Bringing back the mix tape

You may recall a recent post where I solicited ideas for inexpensive stay-at-home dates. Several of you responded with extremely clever ideas that rivaled the original list of "inspiration."

I am happy to report that our first effort at super fun and creative at-home dating was an immense success. Not long after writing my original post, I heard a song on the radio that prompted me to suggest a fun-filled evening of putting together a mix tape to celebrate our love. (My friend Emily later suggested this in her own list, so clearly it's a great idea.)

Jeremy was totally on board with the project, so last Friday after Clara went to sleep (at-home dates are way easier when your daughter goes to bed between 6:30 and 7:00) we took our laptops to the backyard and spent a fun-filled hour looking up songs on the internet. The ground rules were that we could only purchase half of the total songs from Amazon, and the rest had to come from our own collection. And of course each of the songs had to be super poignant and meaningful. (OK, that last rule wasn't really a rule, as you'll see from the final songlist.)

So, for a mere $5.98, Jeremy and I were able to create the Best Mix Tape Ever, which we now listen to religiously. Each of the songs has meaning to us, even if the selections may not make sense to an outside observer. And Jeremy has to get credit for having way more songs to suggest than I did, all with the reason: "Whenever I hear this song, I always think of you and feel really tenderly towards you." I had no idea!

I'm sure you'll agree that this list of songs makes for a great and memorable album of devotion:

1. Annie Lennox--"No More I Love Yous"
2. Eric Clapton--"Wonderful Tonight"
3. James Taylor--"Something in the Way She Moves"
4. Fugees--"Ready or Not"
5. 10,000 Maniacs--"These Are Days"
6. U2--"All I Want Is You"
7. Alphaville--"Forever Young" (Classic!)
8. Sarah Maclachlan--"Angel"
9. Alicia Keys--"No One"
10. Toto--"Africa" (This video is a must see on YouTube)
11. Tracy Chapman--"Fast Car"
12. Neil Diamond--"Sweet Caroline"
13. Natalie Cole--"This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)"
14. Jason Mraz--"I'm Yours"
15. Freddy Cole--"Merry-Go-Round"
16. Julie Hill and Hazel Sally--"The Way You Love Me"

All said, this was a grand way to spend an evening. We laughed a ton, had lots of tender feelings, and got frustrated with each other when trying to figure out the logistics of downloading/uploading/burning. A classic date. Actually, Jeremy went so far as to proclaim it "The Best Date We've Ever Had." And that's saying something, since we finished the CD on our 6.5 year anniversary. Our love just continues to blossom as a rose.

100,000

Sunday marked a momentous occasion in our home: we hit our 100,000th mile in our Volkswagen Golf. When Jeremy drove this car off the lot in December 2000, the odometer boasted a mere 37 miles. We got married just over a year later in California, which marked the Golf's first real road trip. Since then Jeremy and I have ridden in that little silver wondermobile through California, Utah, Oregon, Washington, Montana, Arizona, Nevada, North Dakota, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Illinois, Pennsylvania, Indiana, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Delaware, Maine, Massachusetts, West Virginia, Virginia, Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Ohio, Iowa, Michigan, Nebraska, Wyoming, Colorado, and Idaho.

Yes, you read that right: the Golf has been in 34 of these United States.

And that is why, on our Sunday evening drive, the odometer read this:


Jeremy, who has always taken prodigious care of the car, deserved to have his picture taken on the spot where this literal milestone occurred. We've seen a lot of beauty in the Golf, and it seems fitting that we hit this mark in front of such a stunning backdrop.


And here is Clara:


And here is the odometer as a palindrome:


Here's to the next 100,000 miles...

Oly on my mind

I have fond memories of the last summer Olympics. Jeremy and I had just moved to Bozeman, and we had two full weeks in which to do essentially nothing while we waited for school to start. Fortuitously, those two weeks just happened to be the two weeks of Olympic Glory in Athens. As I recall, we explored the wonders of Bozeman, watched the Olympics, ate, and slept. I find it hard to believe we'll ever have two weeks like that again.

Jump with me to the current Oly games, broadcast "live" from Beijing. I say "live," of course, because they're only really "live" on the east coast. But if you live in, say, the Pacific time zone, as we do, you are forced to watch the games on delay but still in the east coast time block: from 8:00 p.m. until midnight.

If you know us at all, you will know that the only time Jeremy and I stay up until midnight is when we are literally forced to--for example, by a tyrannical newborn. Otherwise, our engines shut down around 10:00. But for the sake of Sport, we have been keeping slightly later hours that we are wont to do, so we could enjoy the thrill of watching Michael Phelps compete "live" for gold, three hours after he'd finished racing.

Despite the late hours we've been forced to keep (I know there are many out there who are disappointed in my lack of Oly spirit), we've actually enjoyed watching many of the events. Phelps really is a wonder, and some of the "lesser" events--some shown, mercifully, during the lunch hour--have also been exciting to watch. Clara has loved watching midday "splashing in the ocean" (swimming in the pool), cycling, running, and sculling. It's been a good time.

But so help me, if I have to watch Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh play one more game of beach volleyball in their too-tiny "uniforms," (even Jeremy is bored with it!) I may make good on my threat to become a Canadian.

The delights of the season

We have taken full advantage of our twice-weekly farmers' market, much to our perpetual pleasure. The selection is only getting better as the season progresses, and when the market doesn't have something we want we head to a nearby farm stand or to the grocery store for local peaches and apricots. This has been the summer of fruit, and it's not unusual for Clara to wake up in the morning and ask to go to the market.

Clara loves "peachies," "neck-eens" (nectarines), and "cot-cots" (apricots) most, though she would also eat her weight in fresh blueberries and blackberries--and even huckleberries if we could afford them (40 dollars a gallon!). She was really disappointed in the picture of her eating a blackberry, though, since her face was so messy. She kept pointing and saying, "Care-la. Face. Messy. Wash it."


Another bonus we've enjoyed from the farmers' market has been fresh rhubarb, which we've used to make a little treat called red mush--a dish my family (on my mom's side) will no doubt know and love. I hadn't seen rhubarb for several weeks, but when we were there on Saturday a Chinese couple was advertising "rubber" on sale for a dollar a bundle. I figured something was probably lost in translation and worked my way over to buy the best rhubarb I've seen all year. We have thoroughly enjoyed working our way through what is probably our last batch of red mush for the year.

If I were going to peg a disappointment with the farmers' market, it would be that a few weeks ago we decided to splurge on a $3 breakfast burrito from a vendor called "The Taco Chic." Nothing on the sign indicated that they used any special ingredients, so we assumed (as I'm sure most people would) that the breakfast burrito would be made of eggs. Not so, friends. I took my first bite, then looked at Jeremy and said, "Uh, Jer, I think this is tofu." He took a few bites and was so crushed with disappointment that he couldn't continue and has scarcely spoken of it since. We do not so much love the tofu. But don't worry: since I am eight months pregnant and cannot bear to lose three dollars, I finished the whole thing. The salsa was fantastic.