Finding the Right Words

Fiction prompts, part 1.

2012-01-17T23:49:00.000-06:00

Last week I signed up for Figment Fiction's daily fiction prompts, with the grand hope of writing something for each day's prompt and posting it here. Well, in classic fashion, I didn't get around to it all week, but I was determined to post at least a little bit today from last week's prompts. So, here we go.

Jan. 9 Using third person, write about a moment when a character who usually feels (and perhaps is) painfully awkward temporarily feels singularly beautiful, handsome, sexy, and at ease.

As she stepped out of the car and her paddock boots touched the dusty terrain, Jessie felt like she could breathe again. Forgotten were the disdainful looks she got from the upperclassmen as she tripped over her own feet at lunch. The echoes of the laughter as she stammered in Spanish class died away. Now there were only the soothing hoofbeats of Sasha, her favorite mare. Jessie now focused only on moving as one with the lithe animal, allowing the equine’s power to flow through her and reveling in the confidence that this, she could do well. The school-day mask fell away and at last, she allowed herself to smile.

Jan. 10 Make a list of 20 angry words—they can be words related to anger or words that just sound mad. Now write about something you love/cherish/revere using as many of these words as you can

furious
livid
hot
rage
boiling
feverish
seething
scream
shout
erupt
vendetta
revenge
grudge
humiliate
withering
disdain
explode
growl
hiss
sneer

I set my mind to work, furiously tapping out the thoughts boiling through my brain. Feverish to contain the ideas seething below the surface, I fear the livid rage hiding just beneath them that is reserved for when they escape me. Sometimes writing can be a struggle not to scream aloud, repressing those urges to the level of a growl or a hiss at the internal editor shouting disdainfully at my poor structure, diction, or whatever it feels like picking on that day. I mentally sneer, vowing revenge of even more words tomorrow should it get the best of me today. The vendetta continues each time I put fingers to keyboard or pen to paper; my own mind seems to hold a grudge against me for pushing it to create new worlds, things that have never been, out of thin air. Yet, when I procrastinate too long, pent-up ideas nearly explode out of me, a somewhat humiliating experience when I allow myself to believe I have nothing to write. For now, however, I shoot the naysaying part of my brain a withering look, allowing the hot magma of new words a controlled eruption onto the blank pages.

Wow, thanks!

2012-01-10T01:44:00.001-06:00

I had my dear friend, August, give me this shiny little badge for my humble little blog. Not being familiar with blog-type awards, I had to look it up. Turns out this is an award designed to recognize blogs with less than 200 followers. Part of this honor asks me to name five other blogs deserving of this award, and to share seven random things about myself. So, without further ado:

Liebster Blog awards!
1. Paige at Sojourner. She has a remarkable knack for phrasing her thoughts and feelings in a poetic way. Her blog is a glimpse into the life of a homeschooling mama with seven beautiful little ones.
2. Tristy at the Kolden Blog. She is mama to four beautiful boys and is expecting another miracle.
3. Muser at Poet's Musings. He is a beloved poetry professor at my alma mater. He often posts some of his original work at this blog, in addition to readings of famous poems he uploads to YouTube.
4. Kristin at Dialecstatic. Her blog is equal parts alluring, hilarious, and inspiring. She is another talented poet.
5. Katy at August Earth. Above and beyond being a lovely person, Katy is converting a traditional farm to a small CSA, and I hope to glean some information about how to start a kitchen garden from her!

7 Random Facts about me:
1. I never learned to ride a bike. This was one of the unfortunate side effects of being so much younger than my siblings. I was a cautious child and no one was determined to teach me, so it just didn't happen. I'll learn before the boys get big enough to want to bike all over the place.
2. I can write backwards and upside down. I can also read backwards and/or upside down pretty well without a mirror.
3. I'd love to learn to speak Welsh. I'm part Welsh but no living family members know it, and I love the language.
4. I showed in English hunter/jumper horse shows for seven years. I miss it and wish I could ride again, but it takes time and money, neither of which I have a lot to spare these days.
5. I have sung and acted onstage. I really love musicals and have been fortunate enough to participate in several before we had children. Hopefully someday I can do some more.
6. I played the clarinet through high school. Yup, band/orchestra geek right here. I really like classical and jazz music.
7. I once owned a chameleon. His name was Henry and he was glorious. Unfortunately he got sick and we couldn't find a vet or anyone who could help him, so he passed away. If my sons want to get one some day I will make sure that we know someone who can treat it if it should get sick.

Award winners: your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to name five other blogs you think are deserving of the Liebster Blog Award, and share 7 random facts about yourself. Let your honorees know about their award by posting on their blogs. Have fun!

There you have it. Now it's much too late so I am going to bed. Goodnight.

A few days late, but oh well.

2012-01-02T00:09:00.000-06:00

A few days ago was an anniversary I don't like to remember but will never forget. My father passed away 17 years ago on December 28. I have now lived one year longer without him than with him.

My heart is silent,
for it knows
what happened on this day.

A missing piece
was taken out
when Daddy passed away.

It matters not
how long the years,
the pain won't disappear;

Although it isn't
daily now,
grief still visits here.

My heart may now be silent,
but someday it will sing,
the day when my race finishes
and God ends all suffering.

Resolutions, redux.

2012-01-01T14:09:00.000-06:00

I subscribe to a service that emails me significant Facebook posts from a year ago. Yesterday, it sent me the post in which I made my New Year's resolutions for 2011. Of the three, I'd say I accomplished one: running the Chicago Marathon. While I'm proud of that one, I realize that I didn't work as hard as I could have on the other two. That said, I'm eager to kick my own butt to accomplish them this year. So here are my revised and amended resolutions for 2012.

1. Read and write more.
I waste entirely too much time messing around online, at least some of which could be devoted to reading writing books, reading fun books, updating my blog, writing poetry, or writing/revising my manuscript.

2. Finish writing/revising/editing my NaNo '09 manuscript and begin querying agents.
I meant to do this one last year, but with all my procrastinating I didn't manage to get there. This year is the year. Dangit.

3. Begin writing a manuscript for my new idea, possibly for NaNo '12.
I have what I hope is a good idea for a middle-grade fiction series, and I am eager to explore it, but I don't want to get too involved in it before I am done with my other manuscript. Once I begin querying agents, I'll keep myself busy for the wait by starting on my new idea.

Hopefully, if I can manage at least 2 out of the 3, I'll be querying by this time next year, and best case scenario, I'll have two finished manuscripts...let's see how much I can keep my nose to the grindstone.

Carol collage.

2011-12-23T23:33:00.000-06:00

I have been carrying this idea around while scurrying/baking/cleaning/packing over the last week, and now that we are where we plan to spend the holiday, I am going to finally put it down on paper, so to speak. I learned this in my favorite poetry professor's class; draw from words of established lyrics to create a new work. I will take the titles of a bunch of Christmas carols, stir, and create a poem.

Here goes.

Christmas Carollage

I heard, I saw,
its beginning.

The manger
upon a midnight clear,
a silent night,
o holy breath of heaven.

This child of love come down,
clear joy come to rest,
in the cold, bleak winter
a wonderland.

Little baby king,
wishing all merry,
a snow-white star on high
in Bethlehem.

Silver bells jingle
ding dong merrily.
Angels sing noel,
I'll be home, for Christmas.

Haiku a rama.

2011-12-19T14:11:00.000-06:00

I find myself once again behind, so I will resort to some shorter "gems," if you will. :)

Christmas cookies sit
on my plate now twice a day.
SO worth one late night.

Wrapping presents was
a chore when I started, but
now it's a pleasure.

Giving something nice
to people I love so much
is worth some effort.

Christmas cards should not
be a dying tradition,
in my opinion.

I send out a lot
and am always sad to see
so few in return.

I would understand
if there were a modernized
replacement, but no.

I guess people feel
more connected day-to-day
with social networks.

But there is nothing
like seeing handwritten notes
from people I like.

Call me old-fashioned,
but I still greatly enjoy
good old sing-alongs.

This is the season
when I really get a pang,
missing my old choirs.

What I have learned.

2011-12-15T16:14:00.000-06:00

After listening to boatloads of Christmas carols every year (several years ago I even did a pair of blog posts listing my most and least favorites), I have realized that it is very hard indeed to write a good, original Christmas carol these days. Most of the great stuff is already taken and it's very easy to rely on overused metaphors or clichés. I would love to write a Christmas song one day, but I fear I'd fall into the same traps that many of these modern songs do.

Case in point: the other day I taped the new Elf on the Shelf special for my son, as we have an elf and I thought he might enjoy it. Sadly, it seemed rather hastily slapped together, probably hoping to cash in on a new trend without spending too much time or effort on it. There was one song included in the piece that I particularly wrinkled my nose at: I believe the line is "Christmas is a time for forgiveness; that is why we all believe in Christmas." Um, what? And that line is most of the chorus. Wow. At least he doesn't seem to have liked that show. We'll keep playing Charlie Brown Christmas and Rudolph for him, then. They both have their issues (CB is constantly called stupid; Rudolph displays dated sexist treatment of women and a very hasty apology to Rudolph for their treatment of him at the end), but they are both about a million times better than the Elf on the Shelf.

Anyway, maybe I can write a Christmas poem or two in this month that someday I could play with as a lyric.

Christmastime has rolled around
and once again I'm spinning.
First I have to decorate,
but that's only the beginning.

Next I have to bake and shop,
and stress about the extra bills,
worry over perfect presents,
fine-tune all the stocking fills.

Not to mention clean the house,
cooking dinner is a chore,
take care of the children and
run around the grocery store.

But at night when kids are sleeping,
true peace creeps in at the seams,
and I startle to remember
what this season truly means.

While I cling to fading memories
of my precious baby boys,
my heart understands what Mary
sacrificed for Christmas joys.

Thank you, God, for giving us
this most precious gift;
your son lived and died
to bring us everlasting life.

Catch-up time.

2011-12-13T23:34:00.000-06:00

More haiku will hopefully catch me up here.

Furious needles
started out haltingly but
now no yarn is safe!

A tango of knots
dance across my fingers as
yarn becomes a scarf.

First I was afraid
I would turn out one huge snarl
instead, this is fun.

Strangely calming click
of metal performing its
standard magic trick.

The best part of all?
Getting to relax with yarn
and meet some new friends.

Hiatus.

2011-12-08T23:18:00.000-06:00

Okay, so my grand plans to get ahead for the holiday backfired a bit when I didn't post yesterday. But hey, I feel like hopefully I was able to recoup some of my creative faculties during the interim. Let's hope.

Frost Warning

Stepping outside,
the wind takes the breath away.
Anyone attempting
to leave the house with wet hair
pays for it: it's now frozen.

A few seconds in this chill
is uncomfortable.
A few minutes,
faces feel as if they are so much
plaster, badly set, cracking
and about to fall off.

Extremities develop deep,
bone-pain, as if even that deep
within, bodies resist this weatherly assault.
Even after resigning to Cold's power
and retreating indoors,
bright-red fingers, ears, noses
continue their protests in numbness,
burning, and hypersensitivity.

How do trees manage
to withstand such unreasonable
weather, bearing all things
with the grace nature has?
Only a terrible storm can render
a tree vulnerable to weather.
Otherwise, it stands serene,
oblivious to the weaker humans
attempting to shelter under its
sleeping, snow-laden boughs.

Bonus poetry!

2011-12-06T23:55:00.000-06:00

I have time to write today, and the way I see it, that's a good time to get ahead since the end of December always gets crazy busy, what with Christmas and the New Year.

100 Words For

ethereal wisps
softer than whispers

lethal daggers
honing in on their targets

ghostly projections
blink and miss them

invisible darts
digging pits in the flesh

feathers flying
from a celestial chicken

tears so chilled
they hold their shapes

first of the season
greeted with childlike glee

visits in April
met with disdain

when in shelter
any form pleases the eye

but when unprotected
pray nature is gentle

just before Christmas
a storm becomes magic

each moment it lasts
adds to the smiles

rushing out to breathe in the stark coldness,
then trudging back in for some cocoa to share.

Catching up.

2011-12-06T00:29:00.000-06:00

I s'pose I should post two more poems since it's now after midnight and I posted four yesterday; that should catch me up to be on pace for my earlier goal of 31 poems in the month of December. Okie dokie then.

Two Autumns

In carefree days dreamily recalled,
I leapt into deep piles
of autumn leaves, reveling
in the crumbling carcasses
of last summer as they tangled
in my braids, dusting up my sweater
and faded jeans.

Older but not wiser, my task
now changes to trying to tame
the yard that is now
my responsibility.
Wrestling some semblance
of order out of the explosion,
as if an entire tree
committed seppuku on my lawn.

Flurry
Crystalline feathers
making lazy spirals
past the window.
The chill too strong
to take small ones
out to enjoy the show,
at least they can perch
at the sill and admire
the breathless flights
of tiny airships.

As promised.

2011-12-05T00:01:00.000-06:00

Autumn/ Winter Haiku series

Raking many leaves
into perfect little piles;
bagging? Nah, no time.

Next weekend: the snow
drifted over solid ice.
Shoveling was a dream.

Powdered-sugar land
after midnight flurries end,
sparkling in the sun.

Nothing can compare
to the light in a child's eyes
by a Christmas tree.

Wow.

2011-12-04T00:23:00.000-06:00

Another month has flown by. A few days ago I had the idea to try to post a poem a day for the month of December. Unfortunately, as is the norm lately, time got away from me. And now it's super late, so I will do my best to make up for it tomorrow with a string o' haiku.

Stay tuned!

When do I get my Mommy merit badge?

2011-11-14T00:15:00.000-06:00

So sorry (again) that it's been too long since I last blogged. Forgive me.

I have to say my reasons for being away are far more successful socially than I have ever had before. I am running all over my cute little town, shuttling my older son to and from preschool, and generally being "out there" way more than I ever was even in the heart of a large city. I am a member of the local MOPS (Mothers of preschoolers) group, I take a parenting class, I am part of a cooking club, and I just on Friday joined a knitting circle and knitted my first-ever row (soon followed by at least 20 more this weekend). I even have a Tupperware party on my calendar in the next few weeks.

Is this when I get my Mommy merit badge?? :)

If some oracle had told me last November that this was what my life would be like now, I would have shaken my head. I am delighted, don't get me wrong, but I am just surprised. I always figured we'd end up in the suburbs of a larger city, not 1.5 hours away, but really, this is the perfect place for us. I love how friendly everyone is. I feel more known here than I ever did in our 4 years in the Big City. I feel like my kids will be safe growing up here, and they'll have plenty of opportunities to play the way they want to. I am so happy.

But now I'd better go to bed.

Why I Write.

2011-10-20T15:59:00.000-05:00

I write to figure out what I think about things.

I write to give voice to my fears, then destroy them.

I write to make real my fantasies or wishes I know can't come true.

I write to create other worlds to share.

I write to see what shapes I can twist words into today.

I write to relax my mind.

I write to sharpen my mind.

I write to exorcise my demons.

I write to feed my spirit and nourish my soul.

I write to feel like a grown-up after a day spent with small children.

I write to feel like a child after having to be the parent all day.

I write because if I didn't, I'd probably explode.

I write because I've wanted to be a writer since I knew that was a job.

I write because I want to have something to show my children when they're grown.

I write because I want to have something to show my children while they're young.

I write to remember who I am, who I was, and who I want to be.

Why do YOU write?

Marathoner.

2011-10-11T00:07:00.000-05:00

Yes, I can now say I have completed a marathon. While it was hotter than I had hoped and therefore finished in a much slower time than I had expected, still I have a shiny new medal to add to my collection, along with a lot of memories.

As I often do with this blog, I am going to put the main ones down here so that I can hopefully remember as much as possible.

Top Ten(ish) T-Shirts Seen on the Course

10. This was a bad idea. (on the back of a less-than-perfectly fit, middle-aged man)

9. Where’s the finish line?

8. Running is a mental sport. We are all insane.

7. Find your happy pace.

6. Imagine how big my @ss would be if I didn’t run marathons. (worn by a rubenesque woman)

5. My Last Marathon (followed by a list of 6+ marathons)

4. Cheer up, you’re about to pass a Kenyan. (sported by a heavier-set African (American?) man)

3. Yes, I run like a girl. Try to keep up.

2. Does this shirt make my butt look fast? (I actually saw this one at the expo but I loved it!)

1. I’m going to finish this f***ing marathon. (This one became one of my mantras by the end!)

Top Ten (ish) Signs Seen on Course

10. Hurry up so we can go drink.

10. Don’t s*** yourself. (uncensored on the sign!)

9. You PAID for this?/ Where are you going?

8. Come on honey, it’s not as bad as childbirth. By the way, you have laundry to do.

7. Worst Parade Ever.

6. Only 3.6 more miles to BEER.

5. Pain is temporary. Bragging rights are forever.

4. I thought you said 2.62 miles?! (at about 2 1/2 miles in!)

4. 26.2 miles...because 26.3 would be CRAZY.

3. Someday you will not be able to do this anymore. Today is not that day.

2. Running takes balls. Other sports just play with them.

1. It’s long and hard, so do it fast. That’s what she said.

Top 5 Things I Learned Running a Marathon

5. It hurts. A lot. And You feel tired sooner than you think, at least if it's a warm day. I started feeling tired a little less than halfway through, but managed to feel a little bit better for a few more miles at least before I started wondering if body parts would fall off before the end.

4. Forget planning. I could have saved myself a lot of unnecessary worry if I had let go of any hopes of any particular time. I knew from about five days prior that it was likely to be a bit warmer than I had hoped. I knew with at least part of my mind that I should just focus on finishing as soon as they raised the alert level to yellow for the race. Even the first half of the race, I was hopeful seeing all the people still within sight with "5:15" and "5:30" on their backs. But then I kind of ran out of gas around mile 15.

3. Enjoy the run. As much as it hurt, there were a lot of cool things to see. There were several runners and speedwalkers I saw who were over 65 years young and still going strong. There were cancer survivors and fellow charity runners. There was a man running with a full-size American flag on a pole. There was Endorphin Dude, complete with bedazzled blue cape. There was a man who ran and juggled four small bean bags. My favorite, though, had to be the blind runner. He had a retinue of helpers to prevent any mishaps; a few out to the sides, and one guide next to him holding one end of a small piece of rope, the other end of which he held. I didn't even know it was possible for a blind runner to complete any kind of race, and here was one running a marathon.

2. It gets emotional. I was a bit surprised when, right around Mile 23, I started to tear up. I suddenly thought of my dad, how much I missed him and how proud he'd be that I even made it that far. I could really strongly feel his presence, so I knew he was there. I was already so tired but I was determined to finish if I could just dig deep enough to get the last ounces of energy out. I asked Dad to help me, and I believe he did. It's hard to run with tears streaming down your face and a lump in your throat.

1. Having support makes all the difference. Running 26 miles was not even on my bucket list until a few years ago when I started running. The person who first inspired me to run was my brother, who ran his first marathon over 10 years ago. He has always encouraged me, from running my first 5K in 2007 to yesterday, when he ran with me despite my painfully slow pace. He cheered me on, insisting that he would just make sure I could finish the race. He even managed to make me laugh: in the last quarter mile there is a small hill, after which you turn and see the finish line. He said, "If you run up this hill, they give you a medal." I think it was in large part due to him that I found the wherewithal to pull out a slightly faster run for the last 400 yards of the race.
I am also grateful to all of the generous donors who contributed to my fundraising for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Your kind wishes and words as well as knowing that together we raised such a significant contribution lifted my spirits when the fatigue was trying to crush me. Knowing that we helped others in the situation I lived through as a teenager made my relatively small accomplishment that much more meaningful. Thank you; your generosity means more to me than I can accurately express. Each of you had a hand in both helping me cross the finish line and bringing a cure for blood cancers that much closer.

October? Really?

2011-10-04T22:05:00.001-05:00

Wow, it's been too long. Again.

However, dear readers, I managed to come up with an inspiration to write, and I actually acted upon it before said inspiration was forgotten in a flurry of cleaning, appointments, and preschool chauffeuring.

I have always loved the piano pieces of Debussy, and I had the idea to take his Images and write a poem for each piece. This is what I came up with. If you are inspired by my idea, by all means grab one of your favorite instrumental pieces and write a poem that seems to fit it to you.

Reflets Dans L’Eau (Reflections in the Water)

Each wave and ripple a caress to my vision
I contemplate the numberless disturbances
caused by a breeze, a falling insect, a leaf.
Tiny frogs leap, causing little rain showers.
Water skimmers skating impossibly
over the surface as if it were frozen hard,
despite this being midsummer.
A sudden lull, I feel as if I could almost fall asleep
right where I stand, transfixed by this miniature drama.
Now a feather has found its way through the dwarven currents of air
and hovers ever so slightly over the water’s surface,
buffeted, then swirls down to kiss its twin underneath.
A swan eases onto its hundredth journey across the pond.
So still above the water, only its steady black feet propel its body
past lilies and foliage, under the shadowing trees,
to the waiting weeds on the opposite shore.
Peace fills me as I turn away.

Hommage a Rameau (Homage to Rameau)

I have rehearsed the words in my head for days
but none seem that they are appropriate
or in the right order as I pace from wall to wall
in my room.
I pause before the mirror and survey the lines crossing my face.
This examination does not assist me in my task,
so I resume pacing.
Suddenly inspiration seizes my tired mind,
and I fly to my desk to pin the words down on paper.
As fast as inspiration strikes, it slips away.
Pacing resumes again.
I begin to walk backwards, if only to hopefully jog my mind
into betraying the hidden ideas
I have been trying to coax out into the open.
I walk faster and with more purpose until I find something worthy
or until I crash into a piece of furniture.
Either way I will have changed the dreary status quo.
Such a gorgeous collection of qualities are rare in anyone,
small wonder summing up the effect of such an one
is racking my brain to its capacity.
Still, I will do my best to do him justice, it is what he deserves.

Mouvement (Movement)

I awake to the unmistakable
tapping on my window
of tiny crystalline structures.
The first snow of the winter.
In a flurry of activity, clothing wrenched on,
a mad tumble of boots, snowpants and jacket,
don’t-forget-your-hat-and-mittens, then
tumbling out the door to find my friend.
She is already here, laughing,
making snow angels in the yard.
I flop down next to her.
It is still snowing, and the tiny flakes
alternate between tickling and stinging my nose.
We stick out our tongues to see
how many we can catch,
before jumping up on a search for icicles.
We find a roof full of them and break the two biggest off
for tasteless popsicles.
A faint shriek reminds us of a nearly-forgotten activity:
sledding.
We grab our toboggans and sprint as best we can
in heavy boots sized a bit too big.
The interminable climb is punctuated by
a leap, then tearing nearly straight down,
ending in a fluffy crash in a snowbank at the bottom.
More giggles and ten trips later,
we head back to the front yard, where enough
snow has fallen to warrant our next creation.
Careful rolling and shaping,
adding to a judicious choice of accessories,
and the snowman is complete,
just in time to bid us goodnight as we drag back
into the house for a well-earned nap.

Cloches a Travers les Feuilles (Bells through the leaves)

Thoughts whirl around my mind
as leaves in a cyclone.
I have to keep moving, or if I should stop I may
topple over from the centrifugal force.
Now I pick up the pace,
hoping the increased blood flow will
silence the nagging voices.
Once I get going, a sense of equilibrium returns.
Still doubts hound me, nipping at my heels,
but I know that if I just keep moving forward
they will tire and fall away.
The wind is delicious despite its playful pushing
at my face as I try to imitate the others
gliding along ahead of me.
I’ll never catch them, but I don’t care.
I just focus on the joy that is
keeping going on,
watching the sky grow lighter,
greeting the grasshoppers,
butterflies, birds, squirrels and chipmunks
as they curiously survey my progress.
When my legs try to convince me to slow,
I do my best to ignore the sensation,
until I reach my goal.

Et la Lune Descend sur le temple qui fut (And the moon descends over the ruins of the temple)

The moon is already setting,
giving up her perch among the stars,
even as I wish she were still comfortable
high in the firmament.
I have stayed up too late again,
fiddling with inconsequential things,
losing track of time while doing chores,
but mostly just wasting time.
I shake off my sense of annoyance and
will my mind to relax, to prepare for sleep.
Nobody likes to lie in bed and find their brain
will not shut off to rest.
Slowly I settle into my nighttime routine,
breathing deeply, thinking
of all I have to be thankful for--
my health, my family, good friends,
the successes of the day,
and what I have to look forward to tomorrow.
I have tried my best, and that will simply
have to do for today.
As I lay down my head,
I smile.

Poissons d’Or (Fish of Gold)

Every day is a new adventure.
I leap out of bed, asking,
“What are we going to do today?”
Whatever the plans, my response always,
“Oh, that will be fun!”

Always hungry, I devour
breakfast as soon as it appears before me.
I enjoy bringing my milk and my brother’s
to the table. I’m careful not to spill.
I even put my milk back in the fridge
when I’m all done.

Maybe we’ll go to the park today.
If we do, I'll be sure to say hello
to the mailman in his truck, and ask
for the hundredth time if he’s delivering
the mail to people.

Then I’ll climb to the top of the treehouse
and yell down “Hello down there!”
and “I’m up higher!”
When I come down, I’ll ask
to be pushed in the swing like my little brother.

After lunch, we’ll go to school.
I can hardly be bothered to hang up my bag
before I say “Bye!” and find my friends.
While I don’t like to leave,
I’m always happy to see Mommy again.

Why I Run.

2011-09-12T23:32:00.001-05:00

As I have occasionally posted on this blog about my running exploits, the fact that I run should not come as a surprise to my readers. However, perhaps the idea of me (an average at best runner, certainly not the fastest, and generally considered recreational) running a marathon seems a little, well, insane.

Well, dear readers, I'm here to tell you that there are many times (during my 18-mile run last weekend, for example) that I would readily agree with you. But there is a huge reason why I keep getting up, lacing up my sneakers, and heading out on the trail, the road, or the treadmill, as the case may be.

That reason is that cancer, particularly (to me) leukemia, sucks.

I will not rest until I have accomplished my goal of raising a significant amount of money to combat the types of horrible blood cancers that steal people's beloved family members in the blink of an eye.

People like my dad.

My father was a vibrant, energetic, active, kind, funny and loving man. He was an amazing dad. He worked hard, but he played hard too. My favorite memories of him include his booming laugh, the way you could hear from inside the house if he was swimming in the pool in the backyard, early morning fishing trips at the lake, and "stealing" popcorn from his bowl until he told me to go make my own.

The Christmas I after turned 16 wasn't much of a Christmas at all for my family. Dad wasn't feeling well at all, and he finally got a blood test that revealed, on Christmas Eve, that he had acute myelogenous leukemia (AML). The doctors' prognosis was that if he survived the first three days, he would hopefully have three months to live. Unfortunately, he had the three-day variety, as the mutant cells attacked his lungs, and then his brain. We barely had a chance to absorb the news of his illness before he was just gone.

I run to prevent others from facing a harsh reality like that of my family. I run to hopefully help increase the survival rate of AML, and even find a cure for it someday. Someday others could develop this disease, but survive to watch their little girls graduate from high school and college, get married, earn master's degrees, and have children. My dad missed all of that, and I know he would have loved to have been there in the flesh, though I know he was with us in spirit.

I know some of you don't know me from Adam, but if you have any change to spare, I would really appreciate it if you could contribute to my fundraising for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. They are dedicated to researching to find a cure for blood cancers, and they also help families afflicted by these diseases by offering them vital information on the diseases as well as available treatments and therapies so they can make their decisions with more confidence. Every penny over my goal of $1000 will go directly toward their research and patient outreach programs. Thank you to all of my angel donors who have pitched in thus far, and thank you to those who may be moved to donate now.

There is an opportunity to leave a message when you donate (and the donation may be made anonymously as well), and if you would like to share the name of a loved one who is a survivor or victim of cancer that you would like me to acknowledge on my race day jersey, please do so. I would be honored to add them to my list of honorees to which I am dedicating my run.

I will end this with the link to my fundraising web page. Have a look around, and really, even a dollar or two would be appreciated and would make a difference. Thank you!

Relocation.

2011-08-24T23:22:00.000-05:00

Hey, readers...

If you are still there...

At least I have somewhat of a valid excuse for failing to post for so long this time. My family moved from a teeming metropolis to what can more accurately be described as a hamlet, and I couldn't be happier about it. Cleaner air, no traffic, friendly people, tons of kids, parks, trees, good schools...and we found an amazing house.

So amazing in fact that I am actually trying harder than I ever have before to take care of it. I joined a website recently called FlyLady.net, which was designed by and for non-type A people like me. Rather, we are perfectionists and procrastinators at the same time, which pretty much prevented us from doing much of anything related to housework...the perfectionist side says "I don't want to do it if I can't do it perfectly, or do it all right now," while the procrastinator side says "I'll do it later." Either way it doesn't lend to a very nice looking place. So I'm starting my baby steps to keep this new house the way I found it, or at least a livable facsimile of that. Everything isn't perfect, but hopefully I'll at least get to everything around once a week once I fully establish all my routines. :)

The kids are doing great. They love their new room (it even has a huge walk in closet that the previous owners had used as a toy room, and I have kept it the same for ours), and they are enjoying our trips to the park. I signed my big boy up to start preschool in three weeks. I can't believe how big he is. Tonight at dinner he said, "Mommy, you're amazing." Sigh. The little guy is crawling at the speed of light. His latest trick is stairs, and he will pull up on just about anything, or anyone, he can get his little hands on. He's taken to calling his brother "Baba."

I can't think of much else right at the moment; hopefully I'll make more of an effort to post in the next few weeks as we are more settled in. Haiku News will come back shortly after that.

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

2011-07-14T23:21:00.000-05:00

As usual, I may have lasted a week on my resolve to blog more often. However, I now know I have an end date to the uproar and upheaval in my life that has been preventing me from posting. My wonderful husband has accepted a new position, and we are leaving a teeming metropolis for a beautiful, friendly small town in a month. This weekend we are going to try to find our new home. I am really looking forward to starting this new chapter in our life together.

The boys are doing great. The big one is starting to get more and more involved with the little one, and it is so cute to see them sort of playing together every once in awhile. Little guy is getting so big and really wants to try to walk now that he has fully mastered off-the-ground crawling. He will be 1 in less than a week. Where does the time go?

The other day, my big boy heard his brother fussing on the monitor while playing downstairs with his daddy. He said, "Daddy, (little brother) is crying. I have to help him stop crying. (Little brother), STOP CRYING!" If only that worked, my darling. He also enjoys singing all sorts of songs, much to our delight. I hope we can get him into piano lessons as soon as they deem him "old enough," as well as swim lessons so he can take advantage of his grandparents' pool.

If anyone has a brilliant idea for the next poetry challenge, I'm all ears. For the next few weeks I will probably be buried in boxes and in organizing/purging frenzies, but I will be listening nonetheless.

Haiku News

Potter movies end,
bringing magic to a close
with some childhoods.

Politician thinks
his county'd be better off
in South Calif. Hmm.

A noble idea:
California would include
gays in history.

Congress needs to stop
acting like whiny babies
and fix the budget.

Favorite Poets, Part 2.

2011-07-03T00:40:00.000-05:00

I promised the other half of my top 20 favorite poets way back in March. Well, here's the other half, at long last. Again, there is no particular order to my madness.

Shel Silverstein
I have loved Shel Silverstein since I was old enough to read his trio of poetry books. This poem in particular used to make me cry with laughter. I read this aloud (with some difficulty) to my nieces when they were young, and I can’t wait to do the same with my boys someday.

Twistable Turnable Man
He's the Twistable Turnable Squeezable Pullable
Stretchable Foldable Man.
He can crawl in your pocket or fit your locket
Or screw himself into a twenty-volt socket,
Or stretch himself up to the steeple or taller,
Or squeeze himself into a thimble or smaller,
Yes he can, course he can,
He's the Twistable Turnable Squeezable Pullable
Stretchable Shrinkable Man.
And he lives a passable life
With his Squeezable Lovable Kissable Hugable
Pullable Tugable Wife.
And they have two twistable kids
Who bend up the way that they did.
And they turn and they stretch
Just as much as they can
For this Bendable Foldable
Do-what-you're-toldable
Easily moldable
Buy-what you're-soldable
Washable Mendable
Highly Dependable
Buyable Saleable
Always available
Bounceable Shakeable
Almost unbreakable
Twistable Turnable Man.

Carl Sandburg
I love Sandburg's energy and visceral imagery in his poetry. It's fun to read aloud because it's so strong. If you don't mind some foul language I highly recommend you check out "Howl," particularly if you can find a recording of Sandburg reading it. I love this poem because even though it describes the city as it was in the early 1900s, it still carries a lot of the same spirit today.

CHICAGO
    HOG Butcher for the World, 
     Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, 
     Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler; 
     Stormy, husky, brawling, 
     City of the Big Shoulders:
They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I
     have seen your painted women under the gas lamps
     luring the farm boys. 
And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it 
     is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to 
     kill again. 
And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the
     faces of women and children I have seen the marks
     of wanton hunger. 
And having answered so I turn once more to those who
     sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer
     and say to them: 
Come and show me another city with lifted head singing 
     so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning. 
Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on
     job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the
     little soft cities;
Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning
     as a savage pitted against the wilderness,
          Bareheaded, 
          Shoveling, 
          Wrecking, 
          Planning, 
          Building, breaking, rebuilding, 
Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with 
     white teeth, 
Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young
     man laughs,
Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has 
     never lost a battle, 
Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse. 
     and under his ribs the heart of the people, 
               Laughing!
Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of 
     Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog
     Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with
     Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.

William Wordsworth
I know that Wordsworth is sometimes a joke to people, as he has been considered the cheesiest of the Romantic poets, but I really enjoy the below poem. I saw a special on HBO sponsored by the Poetry Foundation in which Dave Matthews read this poem, and I just fell in love with it.

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Robert Frost
Frost is especially talented with extended metaphors. I really love the way he describes his images; I feel like if I could paint I would be able to reproduce exactly what he had in mind when he wrote it. I also like “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening” and “The Road Not Taken,” but I think this one is my very favorite.

Mending Wall
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

Gwendolyn Brooks
I have always enjoyed sharing Brooks’ poetry with my students when I was teaching. This one is my favorite. I recommend listening to the author reading it herself. It sounds almost like music.

The Pool Players.
Seven at the Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

Ogden Nash
Nash had a great mind for light verse. I particularly adore his poems about animals. There are many, but this one is one of my personal favorites.

The Centipede
I objurgate the centipede,
A bug we do not really need.
At sleepy-time he beats a path
Straight to the bedroom or the bath.
You always wallop where he’s not,
Or, if he is, he makes a spot.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning
She and her husband were successful Romantic poets. I enjoy both of their portrayals of their love.

Sonnet XLIII from Sonnets of the Portuguese
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Robert Browning
The faithful husband of Elizabeth.

Meeting at Night
THE gray sea and the long black land;  
And the yellow half-moon large and low;  
And the startled little waves that leap  
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,  
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,  
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;  
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch  
And blue spurt of a lighted match,  
And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!  

Gertrude Stein
My senior quote in my high school yearbook was one of Gertrude Stein’s: “Let me listen to me and not to them.” I have always felt that this motto has served me well, both in saving me the eventual embarrassment involved in being trendy, and in helping me to avoid relying too much on others’ approval. This poem is a gorgeous modernist portrait of a tight knit family.

The house was just twinkling in the moon light,
And inside it twinkling with delight,
Is my baby bright.
Twinkling with delight in the house twinkling
with the moonlight,
Bless my baby bless my baby bright,
Bless my baby twinkling with delight,
In the house twinkling in the moon light,
Her hubby dear loves to cheer when he thinks
and he always thinks when he knows and he always
knows that his blessed baby wifey is all here and he
is all hers, and sticks to her like burrs, blessed baby

Lewis Carroll
Carroll, most famous for his pair of books, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, was also an accomplished poet of his own. He wrote these stories for a young girl he knew named Alice. If you look closely at the following poem, the first letter of each line is a letter of her name: Alice Pleasance Liddell.

A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky
A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July —

Children three that nestle near,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Pleased a simple tale to hear —

Long has paled that sunny sky:
Echoes fade and memories die:
Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,
Eager eye and willing ear,
Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,
Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream —
Lingering in the golden gleam —
Life, what is it but a dream?

Treading water.

2011-06-30T15:21:00.002-05:00

I just celebrated 10 years of marriage to my wonderful husband on Friday. While we are very happy, we are also kind of in a holding pattern of late. He is looking for a new job, and depending on where he finds it we are most likely going to move. How big a move remains to be seen, so right now we are just waiting. (For me, this includes hypothetical house searching on the internet.) It has been several months now and it is getting harder to wait as we go along. I know the right thing will happen when it's supposed to, I just wish that time was NOW so we could start making plans for when and how to go where we're going. Doing all this with little kids will be a first; when we moved into this house I was in my second trimester with my first son.

For now, I guess the healthiest thing is just to try to be patient, and meanwhile enjoy my time here in the city with the boys and try not to let the little things pass me by while I'm worrying about stuff I can't control.

Haiku News

Blago jury finds
ex-governor guilty on
seventeen charges.

Finally showing
that you can't get away with
pay-to-play 'round here.

TSA denies
asking 95-year-old
to remove diaper.

More testimony
in the Knox murder appeal;
nothing is resolved.

Franco's latest thing:
creating invisible
art offered for sale.

I think I completely forgot to post this after writing it over a day ago. Where is my head?

Running my brain.

2011-06-25T21:53:00.000-05:00

Hey folks!

I did my second 8 mile run in two weeks today, and I am pleased to say that while I am still not setting any land-speed records, I did shave a few minutes off last week's time. Probably partly because although it was still quite warm it was much less humid today than last Saturday.

I really wish I could tell two runners I encountered on the path today about their unfortunate wardrobe choices. One woman was wearing white running shorts and a black sports bra, but she (hopefully) had no idea that when her white shorts got wet they revealed the lacy underwear she had on underneath. Even if I had been close enough to tell her I probably wouldn't have, since then she would still have to find her way home knowing how exposed she was. Sigh. Another runner, a man, was wearing light gray cotton shorts to run in, and his groin area was quite sweaty...so that area of his shorts darkened considerably, making it appear as if he'd peed on himself. Guys: if you don't want to spring for technical fabric running gear, at least make it black or some other dark color!! Yikes.

Haiku News

Way to go, New York!
legalizing gay marriage
as everyone should.

This is probably
one of the only times that
they're sixth for something.

As if Holocaust
victims suffered not enough,
some women were raped.

On a lighter note,
Winklevoss twins just can't stop
suing Zuckerberg.

They're back!

2011-06-21T16:02:00.000-05:00

I think it's high time to reinstate Haiku News. I don't even know why I stopped doing them. I am also going to try and post at least a few times a week for the rest of the year, we'll see how that goes.

"Jackass" Ryan Dunn
wrapped his car around a tree;
don't drink and drive, kids.

In related news,
Ebert's comments on Dunn's fate
got his page removed.

Megan Fox was fired
from "Transformers" sequel by
linking Bay, Hitler.

"Lost" actor marries
teenage girlfriend; I'm sure they
have tons in common.

Stay tuned for more!

Father's Day.

2011-06-19T00:03:00.000-05:00

I don't know if this day will ever get easier for me, since it always serves to remind me how much I miss my own dad. He left us so suddenly, we never really had time to say goodbye. I still have times where I wish he could magically show up at the front door like nothing had ever happened. Alas, that can only happen in soap operas and fairy tales, but I know I'll see him again someday when I get to heaven.

At least I can enjoy watching my husband become a better father day by day. He is such an attentive, gentle and loving father to our boys. They are so lucky to have him. Whenever he's home, he will help with our older son's dinner and give him his bath, read to him and put him to bed while I tend to the baby. Sometime soon he will likely at least be reading to/ putting both of them to bed once the baby is weaned. There is nothing like the smiles they give him when he walks in the door from work. I also love hearing my big boy talk to him on the phone during the day. His "Hi, Daddy!" must put a smile on his face as it does mine. It's fun to see my husband's smile or a funny face he makes cross their faces. I have a feeling I'll be laughing a lot more as they get older and develop some of his quirky sense of humor.

So, happy Father's Day to all the awesome dads out there. Keep being amazing, your kids will thank you for it and your wives will appreciate you for it!

June already?

2011-06-09T23:03:00.000-05:00

Whew, that was quick.

I just got back on Monday from my 10 year college reunion. While we were only there from Thursday through Monday, it was fun to see so many of our old friends, most of whom had never met our kids and we hadn't seen at all since we moved away 7 years ago. It was so strange to be back in the place we'd spent so much time, but hadn't seen in so long. So much has changed. They've built new buildings, many of our professors have retired. But some things haven't: we found all our old houses (on and off campus), we visited the zoo (a lot the same as I remember), and the summer weather was perfect: sunny and 75ish on Saturday. I realize that we were lucky, they've had an unusually cold year so far, but we were grateful for the reprieve the weekend we were there, particularly since we came home to oppressive heat.

The boys did very well. I was particularly impressed with how well the little guy did on his first trip to the West Coast. He adjusted fairly quickly to the time change and slept in the pack n' play with very little struggle. Of course, he didn't take much of a nap most of the days we were there, but I couldn't blame him there since we were often too busy to go back to the hotel room to give him time to lay down. My back reminded me that I was not used to carrying him around the majority of the day. He also voiced his frustration occasionally for not being able to move around. He officially started Army crawling a few days before we left, and he could not believe I wasn't going to let him down on the floor of the airplane to explore the passengers' shoes and carry-on baggage. Sorry, buddy, I think that's a bit too dirty for you. He is so funny to watch right now with his crazy wiggle/drag/contort movement. I describe it as either a baby zombie or that he's trying to breakdance.

We were also able to sing in the alumni version of the concert choir we sang in while in school. It was nice even though only one other member was actually singing in it during the same years we were. The other folks we met there were quite nice and we had a good time.

Perhaps one of the best parts of all was when we got home and we were all bone tired, and the boys actually had to be woken up Tuesday morning. The little one actually slept till 10:00! I was happy to have the extra sleep, and was glad they were able to catch up on some rest they didn't get while we were gone.

So, it's probably about time for another poetry challenge...what say you all to Paige's mom's idea of using the word verification as an inspiration for a poem? Let me know.

Pressing "Save."

2011-05-29T22:27:00.000-05:00

Things I want to remember:

How my three-year-old tucks in his Buzz or Woody stuffed figures and says, "There you go, nice and warm!" and how he gives kisses and hugs to his little brother.

How my sweet 10 month old boy shrieks in glee, how his winning smile always gleams when presented with a game of peek-a-boo, and how his velvety forehead feels under my lips as I kiss him above his sleepy eyes.

How my three-year-old is getting good at singing songs, particularly "You've Got a Friend in Me" from Toy Story. His version: "You've got a FRIEND in ME, you've got a FRIEND in ME. As the YEARS go BY, you NEver DIE." He will also fill in the instrumental line at the end. So cute.

How my baby is trying SO hard to crawl, but he still doesn't have much idea how. He is happiest lately when you set him on the floor, where he nearly immediately flops onto his stomach and settles into a combination of rolling and wriggling to get where he wants to go. It is remarkably effective.

Poetry Challenge: Rewrite a bad song/ write a poem on a day of the week.

2011-05-11T21:27:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure why I'm doing this tonight, as I am still recovering from an annoying sinus infection (is there any other kind?). But I'm by myself and nothing is going on so I guess I figured tonight would be a good night to try it.

If you don't have a social media-savvy person in your house, you may have been spared the atrocity that is Rebecca Black's "Friday" video. In a nutshell, this 13-year-old girl's parents paid a small record/video company $4000 to write her a song and produce the music video. It then went viral and was widely declared the "worst song ever." I won't make you watch it, but I will embed it here if you are brave enough to allow its assault to your ears. The poor girl has suffered quite a bit of abuse about it already, but suffice it to say, although it is a slickly produced video, I am amazed and depressed that two full grown adults were paid to write these brainless lyrics. Without further ado:

I will also enclose the lyrics here, in case you didn't catch them with all the auto-tuning going on in the video.

"Friday"

(Yeah, Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ah-Ark)
Oo-ooh-ooh, hoo yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah-ah-ah
Yeah-ah-ah
Yeah-ah-ah
Yeah-ah-ah
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Seven a.m., waking up in the morning
Gotta be fresh, gotta go downstairs
Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal
Seein' everything, the time is goin'
Tickin' on and on, everybody's rushin'
Gotta get down to the bus stop
Gotta catch my bus, I see my friends (My friends)

Kickin' in the front seat
Sittin' in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Which seat can I take?

It's Friday, Friday
Gotta get down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday
Gettin' down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend

Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Lookin' forward to the weekend

7:45, we're drivin' on the highway
Cruisin' so fast, I want time to fly
Fun, fun, think about fun
You know what it is
I got this, you got this
My friend is by my right, ay
I got this, you got this
Now you know it

Kickin' in the front seat
Sittin' in the back seat
Gotta make my mind up
Which seat can I take?

It's Friday, Friday
Gotta get down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday
Gettin' down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend

Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Lookin' forward to the weekend

Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday
Today i-is Friday, Friday (Partyin')
We-we-we so excited
We so excited
We gonna have a ball today

Tomorrow is Saturday
And Sunday comes after ... wards
I don't want this weekend to end

R-B, Rebecca Black
So chillin' in the front seat (In the front seat)
In the back seat (In the back seat)
I'm drivin', cruisin' (Yeah, yeah)
Fast lanes, switchin' lanes
Wit' a car up on my side (Woo!)
(C'mon) Passin' by is a school bus in front of me
Makes tick tock, tick tock, wanna scream
Check my time, it's Friday, it's a weekend
We gonna have fun, c'mon, c'mon, y'all

It's Friday, Friday
Gotta get down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday
Gettin' down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend

Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Lookin' forward to the weekend

It's Friday, Friday
Gotta get down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend
Friday, Friday
Gettin' down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend

Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Fun, fun, fun, fun
Lookin' forward to the weekend

My favorite part of this whole debacle was this past March when Conan O'Brien parodied the video, suggesting she ripped off his video of a song called "Thursday." I do recommend you watch this one, especially if you actually watched the original.

Now, the challenging part. I am going to take the germ of the idea for the song ("Friday") and try to write a better song for it. If anyone wants to join me, choose a day of the week (you can do the same one if you want!), or choose a poem or song you hate and rewrite it.

All right, for better or worse, here's what I would have written (in a very short time span, mind you) for a 13 year old girl who wanted to sing about Friday. Not what I would sing about it, as I am considerably older. :)

Friday

As I arise and the sun hits my face
My mind awakes and I smile.
My favorite day at last arrived
and nothing can erase
my joy this morning.

Flying through my routine,
blowing kisses out the door,
time for the day to begin,
I don’t wanna miss a minute.

On the bus my mind wanders,
skipping ahead to tonight.
Where will my friends and I go?
Movies, sleepover, shopping?

(Chorus:) It’s Friday, Friday,
the best day of the week.
Been looking forward to this
For what seems like years.
Hanging out with friends,
sleeping in and relaxing,
nowhere to be and
nothing we have to do.

Friday night, finally,
spending time with my friends. 
Anywhere we go we’ll have
fun talking and laughing.
Tonight we’ll catch a movie,
then we’ll go to my house,
sleepover party with karaoke!

Next week it’s my BFF’s
turn to be the social planner,
I know whatever she chooses,
we’ll have fun together.
Maybe we’ll tell scary stories
and try to stay up all night,
playing jokes on each other
and imagining our future lives.

CHORUS

At the end of this weekend,
I’ll wish it could last forever,
but then I’ll start looking forward
to the end of next week.
Every week has a bright spot,
the end of the tunnel,
something to get us all through
till we can start having fun again.

As you can see, I cut out all the "ah"s and the rap section and cut a few refrains, since I think they were unnecessary anyway. It probably wouldn't match up with the song, but then again I don't think even without bad lyrics that it is a terribly good song, so we're not missing much there either. So there you have it...anyone else want to take this on with me? :)

How Motherhood has changed me.

2011-05-06T15:49:00.000-05:00

In honor of Mother's Day in a few days, I thought I'd share something I wrote today when reflecting on a prompt to tell how motherhood had changed me. It ended up resembling a poem, appropriately enough for me.

How motherhood has changed me.

My heart has grown 100% times two.
These days most things I do for myself, I do for love of them.
I run and eat well (mostly) to be healthy for them.
That said, I don’t really care what I look like because I’m beautiful to them.
I show kindness and patience to others as an example for them.
I show them love and gentleness sometimes in spite of them.
I look for moments to file away in my memories daily.
I blog about what seems trivial today so I won’t forget it tomorrow.
I take about a million pictures a month and flood Facebook with them.
I love their father, my husband, more for being a great father to them.
I try to look above the daily grind to focus on what matters for them.
I try my best to always have smiles and hugs ready for them.
I watch shows that sometimes set my teeth on edge for them.
I answer the same questions a hundred times for them.
I get up in the middle of the night, go with little sleep, and clean up body fluids for them.
I take kicks, punches, bites, pinches, scratches and slaps from them.
I only give back pats, kisses, hugs, and sweet words to them.
I would give my life for them, but I hope to see as much of their journey as God will let me.
I am eternally grateful for my blessings here on earth, and the one waiting for me in heaven.
Thank you God for the blessed honor of motherhood. May I prove worthy of being the caretaker of my beautiful children, and may they be a blessing to others as they are to me.

Thanks to my own Mama for being such a great example for me to look up to and now emulate as much as I possibly can. I am eternally grateful for all you have done and continue to do for me and my family.

If anyone else would like to share thoughts about their own moms in the comments, I'd love to see.

Poetry Challenge: Nonsense Poem.

2011-04-25T23:10:00.000-05:00

I know it has been far too long since I have challenged my readers to, well, a challenge. So here's one, I know I have one reader at least who would be game for this one.

Nonsense poetry is one of my favorite kinds, as there are pretty much no rules. Many different poets at least dabbled in the field of nonsense poetry, and a few came up with quite popular attempts. Here are two of my favorites.

e e cummings never did care for most rules, as is evidenced by the typical non-punctuation and non-capitalization of his name. My favorite of his poems is the following.

anyone lived in a pretty how town
by e e cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

I know it may seem extremely alien, but I promise if you read it through a few times the characters will materialize. I want you to make the discovery yourself, however. I think of this as a nonsense poem only in the way that he disregards the use of grammar in its standard sense, which is why the poem seems nonsensical. But it has an order of its own design that slowly becomes apparent.

The second poem that always leaps to mind when I think of nonsense poetry is Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Again, there is plenty of language that makes pretty much no sense on first reading, but if you look at it a few more times you can imagine what each of Carroll's made-up words could mean. It's almost like discovering a new language. Don't worry about getting a "right answer" to what it means. If it makes sense to you, I think you've succeeded.

If you are looking for more examples, I suggest Shel Silverstein and Dr. Seuss, for two. And further explication and other poets to look up can be found here.

Now, the hard(er) part. Let's try to write some nonsense ourselves. Here's mine, which really seems to channel Shel Silverstein.

Fred the Wonder Horse

He flies sideways, all hunter green,
He’s stouter than a soup tureen.
He smiles, even when he’s mean.
He’s Fred the wonder horse.

The first time I saw him, I laughed.
His one wing made him appear halfed.
Try to describe him and you’ll look daft.
He’s Fred the wonder horse.

On Saturdays he grocery shops
and dances on the chimney tops.
Don’t let him lick your lollipops!
He’s Fred the wonder horse.

He says he comes from Baltimore.
You can’t find him at any store.
He’s full of knock-knock jokes galore.
He’s Fred the wonder horse.

He loves to sing “Fiddle-dee-dee!”
and my friends, they all laugh at me,
‘Cause I’m the only one who can see
Fred the wonder horse.

Someday he’ll wake me from my sleep
and we’ll swim in the lake so deep,
then late at night back home we’ll creep,
me and Fred the wonder horse.

That was really fun once I got inspired. Thanks to my wonderful husband for the basic idea! Look around you for an odd idea. Eat something strange and try to remember your dreams. Better yet, ask your young child for an idea, if you have one around. Please share what you discover with me!

No whining zone.

2011-04-25T22:06:00.000-05:00

My mom always told me that she would tell me when I was little and starting to whine that she couldn't understand whining. I filed that away in my mommy filing cabinet and hoped I wouldn't have to use it much. Sadly the last few days my son has started in on the whining and huge crocodile tears whenever something is going differently than how he would like it to be.

Luckily for me, the "I can't hear whining, sweetie." approach seems to be slowly making its impression. I am also fortunate to have a husband willing to present a united front on the subject. I had already dealt with the occasional yelling with "yelling hurts Mommy's ears" or "Yelling scares your brother," which is usually true. He doesn't like the idea of making his brother cry, so this can be effective.

I just hope for my patience's sake that he will revert to his normal, happy-go-lucky self soon. His particular brand of whining and fake crying really grates on me.

Quotable toddler.

2011-04-21T14:32:00.000-05:00

My son is coming up with new amusing sayings daily. I think I should start writing some of them down again.

The other day, he looked up at me and said, "Mommy, [little brother] is a bunny."
"Okay," I replied.
"And I'm a bunny."
"Is Mommy a bunny?"
"Yeah."
"Is Daddy a bunny?"
"No."
"What's Daddy, then?"
"Daddy is a boy."

My little guy plays a game with his daddy where Daddy asks, "Are you my buddy?" and some times he will say "no." This makes Daddy collapse into fake sobbing. My son asks, "Daddy, why are you sad?" and Daddy will say "Because you aren't my buddy." My son will ask Daddy for a kiss, and then Daddy will ask again if he's his buddy and he will say "yes," which makes Daddy cheer and give him a big hug. He has a similar game with me, except that instead of asking if he's my buddy I will ask for a kiss and he won't give it to me, but after I pout he will come up and give me a kiss, saying "Mommy, I made you happy!"

Whenever he is sad lately he will say "I'm sad." If you ask him what's wrong he will just say "Want to be happy?" It's cute, but not helpful since we usually aren't sure what is making him sad. Oh well.

He is such a good big brother. Lately he will bring his brother a toy when he is fussing or he will randomly come up and gently hug him or pat him on the arm. He will always say goodnight to him before bed and give him a kiss. His little brother's expression when he watches him is so sweet, too. Today he had the giggles and just seeing that lit up his brother's face in a big grin. He will also sometimes feed him a few of his puffs that are on his high chair tray if he's not eating at the same time.

All in all, I am feeling like a lucky mama lately. My kids are very even tempered, sleep well and are for the most part very healthy. They always find ways to make me laugh and smile, even with stressful situations happening outside our little home-bubble. I hope I am taking enough time to show them how much they are deeply loved and cherished.

Acceptance.

2011-04-13T14:00:00.000-05:00

I need to get running, but I wanted to say something here about the ridiculous flap in the news today over this photo. As a mom of two young boys, I feel like I need to say that if they want to wear pink toenail polish, or wear mardi gras beads, or walk around in my shoes, that is perfectly fine with me. That means absolutely nothing when it comes to who they will someday love and want to spend their lives with, but even if it did, if that was what they wanted I would fully support them. I believe that everyone should have the right to be happy, so long as they are not harming anyone else. What people do in the privacy of their own bedrooms is none of my business, regardless of who they are doing it with. Love has all kinds of forms and faces, and I feel that it is beautiful in all of them, as long as no violence is involved. That goes for heterosexual couples as well as homosexuals.

I wish the loud voices of those opposing gay rights would understand that they are trying to take away human rights in the name of religion. I can't imagine that the God of love that I know would reject someone for loving someone of the same sex. Jesus associated with everyone, ESPECIALLY those the people of his society and time rejected. I can't believe he would turn his back on the gay community; he would welcome them with arms as open as they are for everyone else.

So, if someday my son comes up to me and tells me he's gay, I will celebrate him as much as I did the day before. It is only one aspect of anyone's personality; he will still be my son and he will still be the same beautiful person he has always been. I only hope for my sons to be happy and healthy. If they find their way to that place, I will consider my parenting a success.

Snapshot of a race.

2011-04-10T23:14:00.000-05:00

The sea of humanity pre-race.

I haven't done this before, and I think it's high time I do. I may not be the fastest runner but I like to think I get more out of it than those solely motivated by the clock. I keep my eyes and my mind wide open while I run. I have gotten inspiration while pounding the pavement more than once.

Today, while running the world's largest 8K (about 5 miles) race, with a field of 4,000 runners, I realized how many fun moments are involved in every race I've been in, but how few I end up remembering. So I decided that I will try to record a few things that stand out in my mind with every race I run this year. Here goes.

While waiting for the race to begin in my assigned start corral, I let my gaze wander over my fellow runners. I saw a group of women with pink t-shirts emblazoned with the name of a suburb "Hot Moms" and a cartoon mom with a baby in one arm and a martini in the other. What a fun-looking group that was! Another fun group I saw was a quartet of young men clad in green tights, green body paint, and green Afro wigs. Looking at the pictures from this race in years past, I realized they have been showing up like this at least for the past two years.

On the race course, I saw several small children with signs reading "Go Mommy!" and a man dressed exactly like Will Ferrell's character in the SNL Blue Oyster Cult sketch ("More cowbell!") complete with a cowbell, that made me smile.

Running through the city is always fun, as it's the only chance you can get to run at speed without worrying about traffic signals and cars. Every time we ran through an underpass tunnel, many runners couldn't resist shouting to hear their own voices echo back. Many of these passes had bridge railings filled with well-wishers rattling noisemakers, ringing bells or just clapping and cheering. Every one of their efforts was appreciated.

Also, many thanks to God for preventing the earlier-predicted thunderstorm and providing a welcome cool breeze at the perfect moments to revive me when I had been running in unaccustomed heat and humidity longer than I liked.

Finally, after the heartbreaking last hill (WHY???), turning the corner and seeing the finish line was priceless. I was so happy to find something left to kick into high gear and pass another 10 or so runners at the end. I was also pleased to beat my old time by 2 minutes and 40 seconds. Hopefully my dedication to training will continue to pay off through the rest of this year and result in my finishing the marathon in 5 hours. We shall see.

Favorite Poets.

2011-03-31T00:46:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, I came across an article in the New York Times in which a professor was compiling his list of who he believed were the 20 greatest poets of all time. Now, I feel vastly inadequately read to really assume I could compile a list of the 20 greatest poets of all time, but it inspired me to share with you my 20 favorite poets that I have come across so far. Some are very well known but a few were introduced to me in my MA program in a small private college program, so perhaps I can give you all some new poets to devour in doing this little exercise. Now, if after reading this you feel like I have left someone out or you would like to share your own list of 20, 10, 5, or even just one favorite poet, I'd love to hear your selections as well.

To make this more interesting, I am going to include my favorite poem (or one of them, if I can't say it's my one favorite poem!) from each of these poets. Apologies that I have probably shared several of these before, but it was awhile back so it might be new to someone anyway. :)

This list is in no particular order, since I have many favorite poets and not one is really above any other.

1. Shakespeare. There is something about his way of capturing speech rhythms and ingenious rhyming that really captures me. He can also carry a metaphor and twist the end of a sonnet more than nearly anyone else who ever wrestled words into that tricky format. Here is one of my favorites, Sonnet 130.

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.

2. William Carlos Williams. I adored teaching Williams to my students, because he has a wonderful way of confounding their conventional view of poetry. It doesn’t rhyme, it doesn’t use flowery language, there is no real meter or formal arrangement; yet it is poetry. I love how accessible he is for all of the above reasons. The good doctor shows us the poetry in everyday things and situations.

This is Just to Say
by William Carlos Williams
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

3. Octavio Paz. He was influenced by his mentor, Neruda, and they thought in similar ways. Both showcase nature entwined with human feelings, using surprising metaphors to paint their broad, bold strokes. I think of reading their poetry as similar to going to an art museum and musing on the modern paintings. The longer you linger on their poems, the more they will open up and show you, about the writer, about life, and about yourself. I will link to the video of Eric Whitacre’s setting of Paz’s poem, “Water Night.” I have performed this piece several times and between the words and Whitacre’s beautiful chords, it gives me goosebumps every time.

4. Pablo Neruda. Mentor to Paz, another gorgeous early modern poet. I do wish that I could read enough Spanish to understand his and Paz’s poems in the original. That is still a life goal for me. Someday I hope to be able to enjoy them as they were written. Here is a great example of his work.

I Remember You As You Were
by Pablo Neruda
I remember you as you were in the last autumn.
You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.

Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.

I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
Grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
Towards which my deep longings migrated
And my kisses fell, happy as embers.

Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.

5. Wallace Stevens. I know I have sung Mr. Stevens’ praises in this blog before; in fact, I encouraged people to write a 13 Ways poem in ode to his “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird,” did I not? If not, maybe we should do that next! I guess I’ll have to go look now. :) In any case, I know I have included that poem in this blog before, so I’ll share another one today. This one I used in a paper for my master’s degree, and I think it is just stunning.

Not Ideas About the Thing But the Thing Itself
by Wallace Stevens
At the earliest ending of winter,
In March, a scrawny cry from outside
Seemed like a sound in his mind.

He knew that he heard it,
A bird's cry at daylight or before,
In the early March wind.

The sun was rising at six,
No longer a battered panache above snow . . .
It would have been outside.

It was not from the vast ventriloquism
Of sleep's faded papier mâché . . .
The sun was coming from outside.

That scrawny cry—it was
A chorister whose c preceded the choir.
It was part of the colossal sun,

Surrounded by its choral rings,
Still far away. It was like
A new knowledge of reality.

6. Maya Angelou. I highly recommend her series of autobiographies to anyone unfamiliar with this remarkable woman. Still with us in her nineties, she is a national treasure and still sharp as a whip. Her poetry sways and mesmerizes with its rhythms and her unmistakable voice.
Alone
by Maya Angelou
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

7. Emily Dickinson. It is still a bit sad to me that no one who knew Dickinson when she was living was aware of her marvelous gift of poetry. She is another poet whose writing is understated, even a bit terse, but it really brings out new dimensions in the reader’s understanding of what the English language can do. Her economy of language was one of the first times I recognized the value of making what you say count.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

8. Christina Rossetti. Her poems have often been set to music, and for good reason; she had a terrific skill for setting prayers and praises into poetry. My favorite Christmas carol, in fact, is her poem, “A Christmas Carol,” which is better known as “In the Bleak Mid-Winter.” While we now realize that there was probably not snow in Christ’s birthplace at the time of his birth, I still think it’s a beautiful poem. Here is a link to a performance of the carol by the wonderful group Chanticleer.

9. Derek Walcott. I was won over by his book-length poem, Omeros. I can’t seem to find much that is not really long, but please do look him up. He was raised in St. Lucia, and has since lived for a long time in New York City, so his vastly different influences have served to enrich his poetry.

10. Joseph Brodsky. He was sentenced to Siberia for being a poet at the wrong time in Russia, and later defected to America. Again, I have to read him in translation, but his words are so consistently striking. This poem in particular has the added bonus of referring to the famous father and son of Homer’s Odyssey.

Odysseus to Telemachus
by Joseph Brodsky
My dear Telemachus,
The Trojan War
is over now; I don't recall who won it.
The Greeks, no doubt, for only they would leave
so many dead so far from their own homeland.
But still, my homeward way has proved too long.
While we were wasting time there, old Poseidon,
it almost seems, stretched and extended space.

I don't know where I am or what this place
can be. It would appear some filthy island,
with bushes, buildings, and great grunting pigs.
A garden choked with weeds; some queen or other.
Grass and huge stones . . . Telemachus, my son!
To a wanderer the faces of all islands
resemble one another. And the mind
trips, numbering waves; eyes, sore from sea horizons,
run; and the flesh of water stuffs the ears.
I can't remember how the war came out;
even how old you are--I can't remember.

Grow up, then, my Telemachus, grow strong.
Only the gods know if we'll see each other
again. You've long since ceased to be that babe
before whom I reined in the plowing bullocks.
Had it not been for Palamedes' trick
we two would still be living in one household.
But maybe he was right; away from me
you are quite safe from all Oedipal passions,
and your dreams, my Telemachus, are blameless.

I will continue this list at a later date; at this point I need to get some sleep. Please do share a list of your favorite poets as well!

Timeline.

2011-03-30T15:30:00.000-05:00

On a completely random note, I realized as I went to post today that the previous post was my 250th. Excellent.

I wanted to post another snapshot of my children, and I will hopefully follow it shortly with a literary-inspired post.

My big boy is getting bigger by the second. He has started saying "Yeah" instead of just "yes" and will mostly answer the question "What are you doing?" with a descriptive, truthful response: "I'm making a mess," or "I'm cleaning up," or "I'm checking Daddy's Blackberry." Oops!! My favorite game with him is saying back and forth "I love my boy!" and him saying "I love my Mommy!" Daddy's favorite game is to ask him if he's his buddy and he says yes, or sometimes he will say no and Daddy will pretend to be sad, but then our boy will give him a kiss and say "you're my buddy, Daddy." D'awww.

Being three years old must come with an unwritten agreement to put as much stuff on as possible. Our little guy will usually be wearing his baseball hat and at least one mardi gras-style necklace along with his green rubber rain boots that have froggy faces on the front.

My baby is hardly a baby at all any more. He has two teeth on the bottom, one more coming through on top, and is babbling all the time. Dadadada is a favorite, as is the raspberry and occasionally "mama." He is chewing everything and loves his baby food meals. He sits very well and handles his toys with a lot of dexterity. It will be interesting to see if he ever ends up crawling, since his brother skipped that stage entirely. He adores his older brother and will give him some of the biggest smiles and giggles. Big brother loves him, too. He will often bring him toys and hug and kiss him spontaneously, and will almost always help with something if I ask him to, such as bringing me the Boppy pillow or a burp cloth when it's time to nurse him.

I swear, every time I turn around one of them is doing something new or looks bigger to me. My mom is coming to visit soon and she can't wait to see the boys (understandably!), and I told her that she'll think they're huge, since I think so and I see them every day. I just hope I don't get too wrapped up in the distractions in life to notice the important stuff as often as possible.

On my way...

2011-03-05T23:59:00.000-06:00

Again it has been too long since my last post. Forgive me.
Sigh.
I am in the process of signing up to run my marathon with Team in Training to raise money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. I am close to this charity because my father died of acute myelogenous leukemia when I was in high school. I think he'd be pretty surprised that my brother and I have become marathoners since then, but he'd also be proud.
My baby boy now has two teeth and is apparently working on a few more, as he refused to nurse before bed tonight and screamed his cute little head off for a few minutes instead. Ah well, it's only temporary.
Big brother is cute as ever, still talking our ears off. He spent quite a while today banging away at his little keyboard while wearing 3 Mardi Gras necklaces, a pair of my sunglasses, and a baseball cap. He is mastering the potty and even can tell you what sound a lot of letters make. I'll be excited to see how he does at preschool in the fall.
I'm still thinking on the next poetry challenge. Hopefully some of my old faithful will come back with that one. Of course I always welcome new participants as well!
I had better get going now, though; the boys have been getting up around 7 lately...earlier than they used to let me sleep.

Sometimes you're the bug.

2011-02-08T23:19:00.000-06:00

A lyric of a song by Mary Chapin Carpenter springs to mind today: "Sometimes you're the windshield, sometimes you're the bug." Today was a buggy sort of day. Here's the things I can remember that my toddler did today.

After three days being dry in underpants, he came to me after wetting his pants less than an hour after he had gone on the potty. Sigh.
He skipped his nap, and when I got in the room after my shower, he was in his brother's crib jumping up and down while his brother screamed with a blanket over his head.
He screamed in my face at least three times.
He hit me with a stick from his new drum.
He pushed me and hit me, while laughing.
He moved the pack n' play, and when I started to move it back, he shoved it very hard and knocked a timer off a nearby piece of furniture, breaking it.
He climbed up on the kitchen table and shook pepper all over it.

And with that, I will turn in and hope for a better day tomorrow.

Happy mom-iversary to me!

2011-02-03T22:51:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow is my elder son's third birthday. Therefore, it is my third mom-iversary. It is hard to believe that it has already been three years, even though my little boy now runs and jumps and climbs, knows all his colors and numbers up to 12, can sing Twinkle, Twinkle and the ABC song along with bits and pieces of many others at the top of his lungs. His latest thing is to say "Mommy, give me a hug," while holding out his arms. Of course I usually do all I can to comply, but if I need a minute, he will follow up by repeating his request a little more politely: "Mommy, pwease give me a hug." D'awwww.

I remember this time three years ago. It was Super Bowl Sunday, and the next morning at 3:30 AM was my call to be induced at the hospital. We sat around and ate chips and cheese and watched the game and I tried not to get nervous. Of course I was excited to meet my baby, but I had read probably too much about all the things that can happen in labor and I hoped none would happen to me. Luckily, I only had very minor bumps in the road (a blood pressure dip, wearing an oxygen mask because of baby's heart decelerations, baby was sunny-side up and OB had to turn him), and he was born huge (9lbs 5oz) and crying vigorously. While it wasn't easy to start nursing him (he had trouble latching on), I managed it for the first year of his life with the help of a shield. Now he is the sunniest, most lovely little boy I could ever ask for, and is learning to be a great big brother. Just this morning I came into his room and found him standing in his little brother's crib. Because the baby wasn't screaming, I have to think Big Brother was careful when climbing in there to keep him company. I do hope he doesn't make a habit of that (I don't want him falling on his brother!), but it was darned cute.

I have learned so much from my little guys over the past three years. To write it all down would probably take a book, so maybe I'll summarize it to the top 5.
1. Patience. Having children really teaches you to slow down and wait for things to develop. First, because a newborn is a blob and will slowly develop his or her little personality and learn skills like holding his/her head up and smiling at you. Later, because you can't expect your toddler to do everything you want him to the first time you ask, no matter how sweet he is. It is really hard to remember this sometimes when I'm in a hurry or worried that he is taking too long to learn something (like potty training, for instance!), but I like to think that most of the time I am getting much better at it.
2. Creativity. I like to think of myself as a creative type, but having my kids has really helped me to think outside the box. Whether it's just playing with my toddler or trying to convince him to do something he doesn't want to, that right brain is getting a workout. I can't wait to start making up stories with him; he's already trying to come up with pretend-time games.
3. Selflessness. I hope I wasn't really that selfish to start with, but having kids really gets you to think more about them than yourself. I don't mind waiting several hours to eat or not showering until the late afternoon to fit around their nap schedule. I don't mind wiping butts and noses to make sure my babies are taken care of. I have been peed and puked on and I didn't mind one bit. These are my kids and no matter what, I will love them.
4. Happiness. There is nothing like a young child to break up a gloomy mood. I could wake up on the wrong side of the bed after a bad night's sleep, fighting off a cold and being miserable about something that happened the day before, but when I walk into my boys' bedroom, I'm met with a sunny smile from the baby and my toddler chirping, "Hi, Mommy! I'm awake!" How can you not smile at that? If I manage to resist at that point, he will often add, "Mommy can smile?" I think even if I was on fire or missing a limb I could manage a smile for that.
5. Love. I have always wanted to be a mother, and once I became one, I knew I was right about wanting to be. It's the hardest job I will ever have, but also the most rewarding. To look in my children's eyes and see the joy reflected back to me, even before they can say "I love you," is worth more than any monetary compensation. Those tiny hands cupping my face, those little arms wrapping around my neck, are dearer to me than any jewelry or clothing could be. What people say about your love multiplying, not dividing, when you have more children, is very true. When I had my second son I am sure I felt my heart expand to welcome him in with the same strength of care as I had with my first. I hope they can tell that I love them both the same, which is a whole heck of a lot.

Now I should probably wrap this up before I dissolve in a little pile of emotional goo. But it was fun to reflect on all my kids have taught me so far. They are making me a better person day by day, and I have every confidence that they will continue to do so as long as we live.

End of January Snapshot.

2011-01-27T22:48:00.000-06:00

Little son likes to grab onto my arm or try to put his feet in his mouth while I am trying to change his diaper. He is just starting to stay sitting up when I set him in a sitting position on the floor. He just started cereal and first foods a couple of weeks ago and is now consistently sleeping for longer stretches at night, hooray! He doesn't have any teeth but he does chew like mad on his hands. He will babble sometimes, just "Ababbabbabba" in varying pitches and sometimes almost a scream, without being upset. He is really a happy baby and rarely complains about anything.

Bigger son is getting funnier and cuter every day. His latest thing is to say "Mommy, give me a hug," and put his arms out to get the hug. He will put items on his head and say things like "I'm an astronaut," or "I'm Santa Claus," or occasionally, "I'm a baseball." It's pretty fun when he will ask me to do something and if I can't help him right away he will ask again but say please. He tries to sing songs he's heard more than twice, with varying levels of success. Too funny.

Progress Report.

2011-01-10T21:53:00.000-06:00

So. I am doing well with the running portion of my resolutions. If not for a plugged milk duct I would have run 4 days last week, but as it was I ran 3, not too bad. At least I managed to avoid developing an infection which would have laid me up considerably more than one day.

As for reading, I need to get on that. I am planning to finally get to a real book after I post this. The reader will also get some use this week.

Writing: check. I need to see if I can wrangle my husband to read my really bad first draft of my novel and tell me what to do to help it out. Or maybe I should just trust I can fix some of it myself and start doing that till he's ready to read it. Hmm.

The kids are progressing rather faster than I want them to. The big boy is taller, I'm sure of it. He is finally starting to understand the process of going to the potty; now if only he would tell us when he needs to go instead of just going when we put him there ourselves. The little boy is smiley as ever, and really starting to work on teeth (chewing his tongue, fingers, toys, etc. and drooling). We'll see when one finally breaks through. He also babbles like crazy, so cute.

Resolutions, 2011 Edition.

2011-01-04T22:15:00.000-06:00

Happy New Year!

I have been away for far too long again. I spent some of my fleeting me-time in the last few weeks thinking about reprioritizing, and that has led me to form the following resolutions.

1. Run the 2011 Chicago Marathon. This was always going to be one of my goals this year. It will kick my butt into gear on getting back in shape after having my second son, and I have always wanted to run a marathon. My brother, a marathon veteran, has committed to running it with me, so I will have a friendly face and running partner as well. Hurrah!

2. Read and write more. This is one of those things I've been "meaning to do" but not really trying very hard to do it for the most part. I was given a book reader by my wonderful husband last Christmas (2009!) but it has mostly collected dust over the past year, to my shame. It even has over 30 books just waiting to be read, but I need to stake out the time to use it. I plan to get this time by not sitting around playing silly games on Facebook when I could be soaking up great literature. The writing portion will include updating this blog more often as well!

3. Finish editing my manuscript to prepare to submit to editors and agents by the end of 2011. I have already made the fundamental change I decided on once I was finished with 2009's NaNoWriMo (changing my main character from the male character to a female), but I still have a lot of work to do to make it presentable. I think that if I chip away at it consistently, I should have something to be fairly proud of by the end of the year. I believe I have the kernel of a good idea here, hopefully I can turn it into something people will want to read!!

12 Days of Motherhood: part 2

2010-12-14T22:19:00.000-06:00

Here's the promised second half of a mom's take on the 12 Days of Christmas. Pretty much just for my own entertainment, but enjoy anyway. :)

Mom’s Twelve Dreams of Christmas
On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
two loving brothers
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
five toothless grins...
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
six sweet-boy snuggles,
five toothless grins,
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
seven silent naptimes,
six sweet-boy snuggles,
five toothless grins,
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
eight splashy bathtimes,
seven silent naptimes,
six sweet-boy snuggles,
five toothless grins,
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
nine giggly evenings,
eight splashy bedtimes,
seven silent naptimes,
six sweet-boy snuggles,
five toothless grins,
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
ten imaginary games,
nine giggly evenings,
eight splashy bedtimes,
seven silent naptimes,
six sweet-boy snuggles,
five toothless grins,
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
eleven surprise hugs,
ten imaginary games,
nine giggly evenings,
eight splashy bedtimes,
seven silent naptimes,
six sweet-boy snuggles,
five toothless grins,
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
twelve sleep-in mornings,
eleven surprise hugs,
ten imaginary games,
nine giggly evenings,
eight splashy bedtimes,
seven silent naptimes,
six sweet-boy snuggles,
five toothless grins,
four ‘yuv you mommy’s,
three toddler giggles,
two loving brothers,
and a peacefully sleeping baby.

12 Days of Motherhood: part 1

2010-12-11T22:24:00.000-06:00

Here's my attempt at a take on the 12 Days of Christmas, focusing on the not-so-nice parts of motherhood. I will come back with a more positive one soon, I promise!

The 12 Nightmares of Mom’s Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
an endlessly crying baby.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
two poop explosions
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
five temper tantrums....
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
six toddlers screaming,
five temper tantrums,
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
seven sleepless naptimes,
six toddlers screaming,
five temper tantrums,
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
eight leaky diapers,
seven sleepless naptimes,
six toddlers screaming,
five temper tantrums,
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
nine whiny voices,
eight leaky diapers,
seven sleepless naptimes,
six toddlers screaming,
five temper tantrums,
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
ten predawn wakings,
nine whiny voices,
eight leaky diapers,
seven sleepless naptimes,
six toddlers screaming,
five temper tantrums,
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
eleven changes of clothing,
ten predawn wakings,
nine whiny voices,
eight leaky diapers,
seven sleepless naptimes,
six toddlers screaming,
five temper tantrums,
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
twelve runny noses,
eleven changes of clothing,
ten predawn wakings,
nine whiny voices,
eight leaky diapers,
seven sleepless naptimes,
six toddlers screaming,
five temper tantrums,
four grumpy evenings,
three spit-up puddles,
two poop explosions,
and an endlessly crying baby.

Stuck in fast-forward.

2010-12-11T21:40:00.000-06:00

I had really hoped to be back before now. I feel, as the title suggests, as if I am stuck in fast-forward. I hate that feeling on principle, but it's especially sad when it's in the middle of the holiday season. This is my favorite time of year, but I haven't gotten nearly anything done yet that I usually do by now. My Christmas cards were just addressed today and won't go out in the mail until Monday. I have one batch of cookie dough refrigerating, hopefully to be baked tonight but perhaps tomorrow. Our tree isn't up yet.

I guess I should cut myself a little slack, since we have a 4 1/2 month old dictating most of my schedule these days. He is a great baby, but it's still a bit unpredictable how much time I will have to get things done any given time he is asleep. I'm also trying to get back into shape; lately I've been averaging 3-4 days on the treadmill per week, and I added my long weekend run back in last week. With the weather as cold as it's been around here, I put a movie on and hop on the treadmill for 90 minutes. Before you gasp, I'll fully admit that I do a slow jog and take walk breaks every 5 minutes.

Anyway, I had an idea for a fun series of poems, taking off on the 12 Days of Christmas. If anyone wants to join me, that's great. If not, I guess I'll do it for my own entertainment. I'll post it in a separate entry, however. Hopefully tonight, depending on how it goes. :)

Poetry Challenge: Ripped from the headlines.

2010-11-22T23:20:00.000-06:00

Hey folks,

Long time no see. I am running out of excuses not to blog, so here I am. I said I would write a poem related to this year's Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, as I will do below. I will expand my inspiration for my readers to be able to select any current event that strikes their fancy. I feel that feature-y news stories work better for this type of thing, but if you find something newsy that works, go for it. If the story is not really familiar, please include a link to the story which provided the inspiration.

Here's mine:

Evergreen

I provided shade for generations
in a peaceful New York suburb.
Only recently have I grown so large
that the family worried at the prospect
of a windstorm bringing me down on them.

The father of the family,
one of New York City’s Bravest,
could not fathom losing any more
people he loved in a senseless manner
if he could help it.

So I was chosen
to be packed on a truck,
carefully pruned and groomed,
fitted with millions of lights
and brighten Rockefeller Center.

When I got to Manhattan,
I had one more surprise:
a nesting bird in my branches.
The bird was carefully removed
and now lives in the Central Park Zoo.

When this season is over,
I will yield myself again
to provide shelter for those in need,
safely sheltering further generations
as I have my whole life.

The story outlining most of these facts can be viewed here.
The rest was reported on the Today Show over the past few weeks, and I think you can probably find it by searching their page. Now, go forth and write!

Where DOES the time go?

2010-11-14T23:14:00.003-06:00

I mean, really.

Last Wednesday I turned 32. I had to ask my husband several times leading up to it what age I was really going to be, I keep forgetting.

This Friday my baby boy will be four months old already. He smiles and holds his head up very well while on his stomach, and has the beginning of a cute laugh starting. He doesn't scream through his entire bath anymore, just when I'm washing his hair and face, and then he calms down again as I am drying him off. He likes to "talk" to me if I hold him in front of me. So cute!

My older son is now obsessed with the Ellen Degeneres Show. He particularly loves the beginning of the show; he tries to sing along with the theme song and copies the announcer saying "From the Warner Brothers Studios, here she is now, Ellen Degeneres!" as she walks out of the big doors on her stage. He will do this with two toy cars and a drinking straw or whatever he can find. Too funny.

My husband is doing NaNoWriMo this year, as I did last year. I realized as he began his writing that I had been avoiding the editing process with my novel from last year, and I have finally started editing it. I am 2/3 of the way through it, if only for the very basic edits. I am relieved that it isn't quite as bad as I feared it would be going back through it. I only hope that when I let other people read it they won't think it's worse than I do!

Before I forget, I am going to put here my next idea for a poetry challenge: write a poem based on some interesting news story. Mine will be about this year's Rockefeller Center Christmas tree. I shall also try to get back on here to write that poem within a week or so. :)

Poetry Challenge: Web Inspiration

2010-10-04T21:17:00.003-05:00

Hello again!

I lost count of how many challenges we've had, so I guess I'll stop numbering them. It doesn't really matter, right?

Anyway, I thought this time we could look around for something on the internet to inspire us. If you are stumped for an idea, may I suggest PostSecret.com. I am constantly amazed by the things people choose to anonymously share with Frank on his weekly blog, although I can understand how freeing that sharing could be. One secret in particular struck me this week:

This postcard brings up so many questions. I wonder what Sara must think when reading it. Does she know it's for her? Does she know what her friend means by it? I like to think she does. Here's what I came up with:

Postcard for Sara

It's your turn to decide.
I can't make your choice for you
this time.
Examine your path options carefully
and steer your feet wherever the mood
strikes you.
You can make up your mind to pursue
that dream you always thought was
too extravagant.
You can go for that crazy whim
you've been putting off, fearing
you'll fail.
Whatever you choose,
I'll be right behind you.
You can be the queen
of anything.

So, what have you got for me? I'm waiting!! Oh, and please share the URL of whatever inspires your work.

Welcome to the madhouse!

2010-10-04T20:56:00.003-05:00

But it's such a great place to be, I swear.

Life with two boys is definitely more than twice the work, particularly since my older son, who was formerly practically angelic, has now resorted to acting up more often, I assume because he gets attention away from his brother that way. I feel bad that I have to make him wait for things more often now, but really, he has handled the adjustment with a lot of grace for a two-and-a-half year old. He still tries to give his brother kisses on his hands and helps me burp him. He has never once complained about him at all.

The thing I have found the most challenging is traveling with both children. We were invited to a family reunion for my husband's family a few weeks ago, and we agreed to come although I was dreading the 2 1/2 hour flight to get there. I made sure to select a flight that did not make any stops, at least. Unfortunately Murphy's Law was in full effect for the flight out, however. First, the flight was delayed for at least a half hour before we were even called to board, making it about 10:30PM. Then, after getting on the plane (no small feat with a large toddler car seat, toddler, and infant) and leaving the gate, the pilot came on the PA and announced that we had a malfunctioning computer so we were going back to the gate to switch to a different plane. Terrific. After all was said and done, we didn't get in to the reunion city until 3:30AM (the hotel was an hour from our airport). The cherry on top was that the key reader to let us into the hotel was not working properly, and we could not get the night clerk to answer the buzzer to let us in. Finally some woman who was staying at the hotel had to go out to her car and we got in that way, but my father in law gave that clerk a piece of his mind when he finally got him to come out from their break room or wherever he was. The rest of the trip was mercifully uneventful, and it was great to introduce our newest addition to his great-grandfather, but I am glad we don't have to truck both children on a plane again until Christmas, when my mom has supplied us with accommodations to stay in Orlando for the week.

A typical day now consists of at least one period in which both children are shrieking and/or crying, a long walk, sometimes punctuated by a trip to the park to tire out the toddler, and a nap for everyone in the house. Ideally these naps line up so Mom can get one too. Once the baby sleeps for a long stretch at night (we got 7.5 hours last night, hooray!!) on a regular basis, Mom will replace her nap in the day with when she will run on her treadmill to hopefully get back to her fighting weight a little faster than she did with her older son. I had actually hoped to run a 5k in a few weeks, but I am not sure if that is such a good idea anymore...we shall see if I can get a few trial runs in first. It isn't very far so if I can get a few in, I will still do it. My big goal is to train for the 2011 Chicago Marathon and run it with my brother, who is running it for at least the third time next weekend.

Well, that about sums it up for now. I will post the Poetry Challenge as a separate post shortly.

watch this space...

2010-10-04T15:00:00.003-05:00

I will return (hopefully tonight) to post a brand new poetry challenge as well as another synopsis of the crazy life I have been leading the past month. Watch this space for my triumphant return...or my return, at any rate. :)

What Patriotism Means to Me.

2010-09-11T12:14:00.001-05:00

I can’t believe it’s been nine years since the attacks on the World Trade Center. I’m sure most of you can still remember where you were when you heard the news. I was listening to NPR on the way to buy a futon for my first apartment; we had gotten married just three months before and were moving into the apartment that day. We didn’t have our real bed yet but planned on using the futon as a couch once the bed arrived. I am very lucky nothing out of the ordinary happened on the road as I listened to the tragedy unfold; I was slowly losing awareness of what was happening in front of me as I tried to wrap my mind around the situation. My husband and I took separate cars to the store as I was planning to go to work afterward, so when we stepped out of our cars in the parking lot, he looked at me and said, “is this the end of the world?” It really seemed like it could be at that moment. I don’t recall being that scared in my entire life.

Time and life has dampened down the fear since then, although it is still a real undercurrent in daily life. For me, however, I am able to differentiate between terrorists and others who have only one similarity to those who would hurt us: a claim to the Muslim faith.

This is why I am so sad about the developments surrounding the proposed Muslim community center near Ground Zero. Just because there is an area reserved for prayer, the majority of the American people are up in arms about a “mosque” being built near “sacred ground.” Well, no one stopped the strip joints from moving in. I am more offended by that than a simple area for prayer. It’s not a terrorist training center. It’s not even officially a church of any kind. I am generally in favor of spaces in urban areas that provide a place for youth to go and participate in more productive activities than loitering and getting into trouble. I have no problem with that center being opened by a religion other than my own.

I am sure you have heard about the pastor who threatened to burn copies of the Koran on this ninth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. This is the exact opposite of what I wish would happen on this anniversary. Why do people seem to think that showing prejudice and violence will stop or discourage people who seek to exact violence upon us? Have these people forgotten the phrase, “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind”? People who hate Americans will only hate us more if we insult their religion. It is amazingly ignorant and simplistic to target all members of a religion as “terrorists” when the core values of that religion are actually very similar to Christianity, Judaism and Buddhism. A very few clerics advocate violence, while the majority urge peace. It is no different in any religion, or even in any given group of people; there are some radicals while a much greater number adhere to the core teachings of their religion which reject intolerance and violence, promoting peace and understanding.

In my ideal world, the anniversary of such horrific attacks would be full of examples of love and understanding among the people of the world. It would fly in the face of those few individuals who seek to destroy peace. Perhaps Pastor Terry Jones would benefit from reviewing Jesus’ actions toward those who sought to do violence against him and his followers instead of resorting to the same sort of blind hatred against which he is railing. I am glad that it appears that Pastor Jones has had a change of heart, but it still makes me ill that he would have even considered such a ridiculous show of ignorance. It gives me a glimmer of hope for the future of American-Muslim relations that it seems that most people were against his idea, however. Perhaps sometime in the near future people will gain a greater understanding of other religions and realize that just as Christians cannot all be painted with the same brush (I am not of the same cloth as Pat Robertson, for example), neither can Muslims.

Today and every day, let us strive for more understanding and love among all people. That is the best way to honor the lives that were taken too soon.

Controlled chaos.

2010-08-25T22:07:00.005-05:00

That's about the best description I can manage for how the last few weeks have been. It's more dealing with my toddler's adjustment period to having his little brother interrupting his routine 24 hours a day than it is dealing with the infant. My baby is really treating us well, sleeping for long stretches and only really crying when he's hungry. He can also sleep through his brother on a whining streak or jumping up and down next to his pack and play. Thank goodness for that!

I am continually surprised with how many "testing" things my formerly angelic toddler has come up with since his little brother arrived. The other day he managed to climb out of his crib, landing with a bone-chilling THUD and crying, although none the worse for wear. He also discovered that he can annoy me to no end by holding a bite of food in his mouth for over an hour, only surrendering it when one of us sticks a finger in his mouth and digs it out. I hope that one is short lived, it's pretty gross. Today he finally nearly hit his brother when in the middle of a tantrum, but I hope my reaction helped him realize it was a bad idea. Ughh.

I am trying to focus on the positive times, like when my big boy will go over to his brother when he is crying and say "It's okay" and pat him gently. He really seems to enjoy him, he's just trying to figure out what the new normal is, I think. I hope things will settle down a bit soon; until then I will probably only post sporadically.

Little one...

2010-07-28T21:07:00.003-05:00

The newest member of our family joined us just before 11AM on Monday, July 19. He ended up nearly a pound smaller than his big brother at birth, but still a hefty 8 1/2 pounds. The labor and delivery could not have gone much better. The bane of my labors seems to be getting my IV; last time they tried three times before they were successful, but this time it was four times, plus I got two shots of local anesthetic for my epidural since the anesthesiologist decided to try another space on my back after trying one and not liking it.

The beauty of labor, however, is no matter what may be painful, unpleasant, or in any way negative about it, the end result is a beautiful new baby and everything else just fades away. Little boy is gorgeous, in his mother's wholly unbiased opinion. Here are some highlights:

He eats amazingly well. My older son had trouble latching on but this guy has had very few problems, and even when he seems to have a hard time finding what he's looking for he doesn't get too upset to keep trying until he gets it. At his first doctor's appointment he had already regained his birth weight!

He has tons of dark hair. His brother had dark hair but not nearly as much at birth. It also has a double cowlick in the back, making it stick out at crazy angles. I call it "monkey hair." Super cute, especially with the downy fuzz that's on his back and shoulders.

His eyes are still a mystery. I had convinced myself that this little guy would have brown eyes since his brother has blue even though his dad's are brown (my whole family has blue). When he first opened his eyes I thought he had brown eyes but they have settled into the steely dark blue that his brother's were when he was brand new. Big brother's have lightened to a bright blue now, but I know newborns can have blue eyes at birth and end up with brown within a year; we'll see if they stay blue or not.

His hands and feet seem tiny compared to his brother's, but his fingers and toes are long. He also has the most interesting oval shaped fingernails.

I think he has his Pop Pop's nose, while I think his brother's nose is more like my father's.

When he isn't all wrapped up, he likes to sleep with one hand up by his face.

I am feeling very lucky. For the most part he doesn't cry unless he is hungry or being changed, and has been sleeping pretty well for a newborn. I hope he takes after his brother and continues sleeping well. *knocks on wood*

Isn't it amazing how the older sibling suddenly looks huge in comparison to his younger sibling? I have had my big boy on my rediscovered lap a few times in the last week and he just seems enormous. I know he's still a little boy but having this tiny one around all the time really shows me how much he has grown. Big boy will be two and a half next week; it's hard to believe it's been that long.

Big brother is finally starting to acknowledge his little brother more. At first he would just ask us what he was doing, where he was, or "what's that noise?" when he was crying. Now if his brother cries, he'll say, "Baby brother crying. It's okay." Or sometimes, "Baby brother stop crying now." Awww. He will give him a kiss most of the time if we ask, very sweetly and gently. Today he actually wanted to touch him with one finger on the head and leg and was asking about the pattern on his outfit, so I think he is starting to realize he may be sticking around. I can't wait till he really is able to bond with him, although I know it may take awhile.

While I am loving bonding with the little one, I feel somewhat torn. My mom and my husband have valiantly taken over toddler duty while I can't pick him up, but I miss my big boy sometimes. I hope he doesn't think I have replaced him. At least he isn't ignoring me anymore like he did the first few days home from the hospital. Soon enough I will have to learn how to juggle caring for both of them for the bulk of the day by myself, which seems terrifying right now; I hope I am ready by the time that rolls around in another ten days or so.

Well, I'm rambling at this point; I will try to post again when there are new developments.

Flying time.

2010-07-15T22:35:00.003-05:00

Now that I know the end date is in sight (I have an induction appointment at 3:30 AM on Monday), I am feeling like a post is in order. I have decided to document things I will and won't miss about this pregnancy.

Things I Won't Miss:

Avoiding caffeine, particularly lattes and frappuccinos.
Getting up 3-4 times a night to go to the bathroom.
Feeling slow and heavy.
The end-of-pregnancy baby movements where most stretches and rolls are just uncomfortable.
Braxton-Hicks contractions.
Taking at least 3 separate movements to turn over in bed.
Constant fatigue.
My PUPPS rash, which has taken up residence in the new stretch marks on my belly.
Being uncomfortable in nearly any position if in that position too long.
Not being able to walk for very long without wanting to stop and sit or lay down.
That thing little guy did last night where it felt like he was drilling into my cervix. OW.

Things I Will Miss:

The feeling of sharing secret times with the little one, when he makes tiny movements only I know about.
Hiccups.
The gentler, Tai Chi type movements of earlier pregnancy.
Watching my shape change to accommodate this new life.
Indulging the occasional craving.
Daydreaming about what this little one will look and be like.
Having my older son come up and give my belly kisses and tell his baby brother he loves him.

Okay, so the list of what I will miss is shorter that what I won't, but that doesn't mean I don't really love being pregnant. It's just the end and it's harder to remember the sweet parts. I'm so ready to meet my little boy that I've been dreaming about for so long. Fear not, faithful readers, I will update as soon as I can after this little guy makes his grand entrance.

Declaration.

2010-07-09T00:01:00.004-05:00

Welcome to the July 2010 Carnival of Nursing in Public

This post was written for inclusion in the Carnival of Nursing in Public hosted by Dionna and Paige at NursingFreedom.org. All week, July 5-9, we will be featuring articles and posts about nursing in public ("NIP"). See the bottom of this post for more information.

***

I consider myself a moderate person in most senses of the word. I would not normally consider myself an activist. But when it comes to nursing, particularly in public, I have found myself with an increasingly strong desire to defend any and all mothers who choose to feed their child in a public place. Sometimes it is just necessary for an exclusively-breast fed child to eat while the child and his or her mother are out of the house. There are many reasons why this child could not be fed by a bottle: some breast fed babies reject bottles, particularly from their mothers (mine was one of them; he nearly never accepted a bottle from me and was reluctant with others). Other times, it is simply a chance outing that happened when the mother did not have time to pump a bottle before they left the house. Particularly when the mother stays at home with the baby, unless there is a special circumstance there is little reason to pump.

As for “covering up”, I believe that mothers have the right to breast feed in public however they and their children feel most comfortable, whether that means they use a cover or blanket or not. I have yet to see a mother who left an entire breast exposed the whole time she fed her child, as I have read on various articles’ comment sections. Most moms show at most a glimpse of nipple or anything else “risqué” before the baby is latched on, and then whatever part of the breast is visible is no more than many women show in everyday shirts. It is certainly less breast than I see at the beach or even on TV.

While I have been fortunate not to have been harassed at all for nursing in public, I have a personal memory that explains why covers should not be expected, but rather a personal choice. The summer after my son was born, I was enjoying an outdoor table at a restaurant with some friends of ours. My son was about six months old and I planned to nurse him at the table while we were having dinner. It was fairly hot that day (at least in the 80s), and there was full sun on our table, so my son protested when I went to cover him up with my nursing cover. It was not a blanket, but the cover I have is made of canvas, so it is not terribly breathable and he was starting to sweat. He actually started getting upset enough that he would not calm down to eat. I am sad to say that the best I could do at the time (still being shy about nursing uncovered in public) was to sit in the lounge area of the women’s restroom to try to feed him. I was crying in frustration myself by this time, wondering what I was doing wrong. Of course, it was just that he was hot and didn’t want to be covered up, but it’s hard not to take it personally when something that is usually second nature isn’t working the way it should. While no one was saying anything to me, I let what I perceived to be the prevailing public opinion sway my actions (i.e., women nursing in public must cover themselves up).

I am about to give birth to my second son, and if this same scenario were to present itself today, I would just remove the cover and continue trying to feed my son without it. I am now more experienced and more confident in my right as a nursing mother to feed my baby wherever, whenever and however I see fit. I believe every nursing mother (especially those just starting out and lacking the confidence of the veterans) has the same right. I am not going to flash anyone; I simply want my baby to be nourished the way he would be if we were at home. I do not believe that such a simple and natural desire is too much to ask.

Welcome to the Carnival of Nursing in Public

Please join us all week, July 5-9, as we celebrate and support breastfeeding mothers. And visit NursingFreedom.org any time to connect with other breastfeeding supporters, learn more about your legal right to nurse in public, and read (and contribute!) articles about breastfeeding and N.I.P.

Do you support breastfeeding in public? Grab this badge for your blog or website to show your support and encourage others to educate themselves about the benefits of breastfeeding and the rights of breastfeeding mothers and children.

This post is just one of many being featured as part of the Carnival of Nursing in Public. Please visit our other writers each day of the Carnival. Click on the links below to see each day’s posts - new articles will be posted on the following days:

July 5 - Making Breastfeeding the Norm: Creating a Culture of Breastfeeding in a Hyper-Sexualized World

July 6 – Supporting Breastfeeding Mothers: the New, the Experienced, and the Mothers of More Than One Nursing Child

July 7 – Creating a Supportive Network: Your Stories and Celebrations of N.I.P.

July 8 – Breastfeeding: International and Religious Perspectives

July 9 – Your Legal Right to Nurse in Public, and How to Respond to Anyone Who Questions It

Imagination.

2010-07-07T21:40:00.003-05:00

I will probably never stop being surprised by my child, soon to be children. The other day as I prepared his bath, my son pulled an eyelash curler out of a drawer and tucked it under his chin pointing vertically. I asked him what he was doing, and he replied, "I'm a doctor!" The only thing I can think of is that an episode of Elmo's World focused on doctors and their stethoscopes, and he thought doing that looked like he was wearing a stethoscope. I was not in a great mood that evening but I can tell you I laughed for a good while over that one. He repeated his performance this evening with his toothbrush. He also knows how to cover his eyes, count to ten and say "ready or not, here I come!" although the rest of the game of hide and seek is lost on him so far.

I only hope he treats his baby brother with the love he shows for his teddy bears. He hugs and kisses them, brushes their fur with a hairbrush, and sits them down going "There you go, buddy."

In other news, I submitted a blog post on breastfeeding for a carnival designed to support nursing in public, and was accepted. I will be posting it on Friday, so stay tuned for my very first activist (or lactivist) post!

If you leave me now...

2010-06-30T22:54:00.002-05:00

This morning I woke up with that Chicago song in my head. You know, the one that goes "If you leave me now, you take away the biggest part of me..." I had to chuckle since if I had my baby, he would basically be taking away the biggest part of me right now (i.e. my belly). I crack myself up sometimes.

While the beginning of this pregnancy really dragged for me (anxiety will do that, I suppose), the end has really been flying. I have a huge list of things I still need to do that I compiled while I was supposed to be napping the other day, and only a few of them have been accomplished. My work is cut out for me since I am still tired, itchy (bug bites, ugh!!) and increasingly cranky. At least the weather the past few days has been mercifully in the 70s. No such luck for the upcoming weekend, but then the in-laws will be in town to assist with the toddler, who is slowing down for no one. It should be a nice visit--their last until the little brother arrives. Hard to believe that d-day is no more than 23 days away! We may take an induction date on the 19th if I am showing enough signs of readiness; we shall see as that date approaches.

solstice.

2010-06-21T19:39:00.002-05:00

By request, I will post today so my mom can see my baby ticker. :) I passed the 35 week mark on Friday, which also happens to be when I had 35 days left. I always thought that particular milestone is kind of fun. The next one I have to look forward to is July 2, when I will be 37 weeks, or full term. It's pretty amazing to me how quickly this last few weeks (even a few months?) have gone. I am now to the stage where little one's movements are increasingly becoming uncomfortable, yet I still relish feeling them since I know I will miss it when he is born. I am looking forward to seeing how similar or different he will look from my big boy, though for quite awhile now I've had a feeling he will look different. I guess we'll see in a few weeks if I was right.

I hope someone else might jump in and write a Gaga-inspired poem; I enjoyed writing mine and Cicely's was a hoot as well. Check them out on my last post if you missed it!

I woke up from my nap this afternoon with a few small ideas for that novel I wrote way back in November, and I am thinking it's a sign that I should try to actually do some edits on it before the baby comes. I hope I keep that motivation for when I actually have the time (after I put the boy to bed). I'll let you know if it worked. :)

I did it!!

2010-06-14T22:46:00.006-05:00

I finally wrote the Gaga poem I was hoping to write. I won't make this an official Poetry Challenge because it was so difficult for me to do, but you can certainly join in if you like.

I settled on Lady Gaga's "Telephone," mostly because I decided it's the only one of her songs I don't completely despise. Also, I think this cover of it is one of the cooler things I have seen recently on YouTube.

If you liked that, check out Pomplamoose's other videos on YouTube, I haven't seen a bad one yet.

So, on with the poem. A tiny bit of background: the other reason I chose that song to poem-ize is that while I thought the sentiment expressed (wishing to free herself from unrealistic expectations of a boyfriend) was admirable, I don't think she expressed it nearly strongly enough. So here's my poetic version of the song.

Leave Me the Hell Alone
(inspired by Lady Gaga’s “Telephone”)

Before you can say anything,
just listen to me speak.
I saw the million messages,
the texts you sent, you freak.

You could have made your plans with me,
but you just blew me off,
so now you can go kick some rocks,
I’m sick or something. *cough*

Just because you changed your mind
won’t make me change mine too,
I made some plans with my girlfriends,
I’m not stuck to you like glue.

Your pathetic badgering
only drives me away,
so why don’t you go get a life?
I have my own, OK?

I dare you to pick another song (or even the same one!) and take a crack at poemifying it! Go on, who's it gonna hurt?

Completely off that topic, but I wanted to add this: if you are looking for a cause to support for a Pepsi grant, please check out Give Kids the World. They sponsor trips for children with life-threatening illnesses and their families to Florida to enjoy the various theme parks. Here is the link to vote for them; the top two will win $250,000. http://www.refresheverything.com/givekidstheworld I can't think of a better cause.

So, that happened.

2010-06-10T21:46:00.002-05:00

As in, I had an idea for something to write and now I can't seem to wrap my brain around it. This is unfortunately not the next blog post I had in mind to write, but it will have to do for now. Perhaps I will be able to get that Gaga poem going soon, but we will be out of town this weekend so I'm not sure when I will be able to work on it. Sigh.

In other news, our boy is coming up with new and amazing things to say every day lately. My mom came to visit us yesterday after spending a week in London with my nephew, and brought him back a toy double-decker bus. He calls it the "London bus" and loves it (which surprises no one). He can jump up and down while holding onto something (i.e., crib rail, couch arm, Mommy). It's pretty funny to watch him try to jump without holding on to things, though. He just kind of bounces on his toes and flaps his arms around. He can also point out where Baby Brother is and say "I luff you" and kiss my tummy. Awwww.

Baby boy is still going strong. He is slowly trading his hard kicks for more subtle rolls and stretches, but he will quite often find a position that will cause at least mild discomfort. However, I will take any pain he wants to dish out, it will all be more than worth it in the end.

Finally, in browsing around blogs I follow, this article caught my eye. I love when poetry can help in changing someone's life, and this is one of those times.

The before-promised blog...

2010-05-29T22:32:00.003-05:00

After all, it IS still the same week as when I had promised this here blog post. I suppose my repeated apologies are falling on deafer and deafer ears so maybe I should just stop making them.

I am not sure how many of my dear readers are watching Glee, but I have to say that like many writers, I have a love-hate relationship with the show. It has moments of brilliance (take, from the "theatricality" episode, the "I Dreamed a Dream" duet between Idina Menzel and Lea Michele), but even in the same EPISODE, moments of...well...WTF-itude (case in point: the duet between the same actresses, performing a bizarre rendition of Lady Gaga's "Poker Face.") I watched transfixed by the sheer messed-upness of singing to your long-lost mother about your...muffin????? I cannot imagine how they got through the scene without breaking into laughter, it just seemed so bizarre.

Anyway, it got me thinking about how much I loathe Lady Gaga. I do not understand her fame one bit. She is not attractive in any way, her outfits are ridiculous, and her songs are vapid, repetitive and uninteresting (unless you want something to dance to at a club at 500 decibels, I suppose). I am one of those people who listen to lyrics, and while she can make a good rhyme, those lyrics are NOT good poetry.

So, as I was thinking about what a bad poet Lady Gaga is (and how somehow she is still paid a ridiculous amount of money for both her own songs and to write songs for OTHER people that are just as bad), I had another thought. Maybe I could take one of her songs and try to turn it into a passable poem. I think, sure, what do I have to lose? Why not?

And then, after doing a little research and looking at several sets of lyrics, I decided it's too late to do it tonight...but I do want to. If anyone wants to join in with their own stab at it, we can make it a poetry challenge! I have to say, on initial examination, we would certainly have our work cut out for us. Or, you can tell me in the comments which of her songs you want me to try to poem-ify. I think I may just have to take the "gist" of a song and write a poem on that. We shall see what I can come up with...LATER!

But because I have left you hanging once again, let me leave you with this.

Annnnd this.

2 months left.

2010-05-23T22:50:00.002-05:00

Today was the first really warm day we'll likely have here this spring/summer, and I have a feeling I'm really in for it. Heat zaps my energy even when I am not pregnant, but being heavily pregnant I am certain will amplify the sedative effect.

Before we realized how warm it would turn out to be, we agreed to meet some friends and their toddler at a conservatory to check out the flora. It was beautiful, to be sure, but it was definitely HOT in there. Luckily the second part of our outing was to a terrific soul-food restaurant, where I finally got to try chicken and waffles. I heartily approve, particularly if they are washed down by a tall glass of sweet tea.

The boy enjoyed the trip, particularly his meal. He downed half a Belgian waffle and an entire cup of grapes and honeydew melon. Immediately upon returning home, he ate half a mini bagel, half a graham cracker, and the remains of his breakfast waffle and turkey sausage. Methinks we might be in a growth spurt!!

Again, I apologize for my lameness in not posting very often. Even when the temperatures haven't skyrocketed, I am feeling a severe lack of motivation to do much of anything apart from basic living activities. I hope the energy comes back sometime, I'm getting tired of being such a slug...but I'm not sure how to help myself out of it. Sigh...at least I physically feel pretty good still. Baby boy is starting to stretch out rather uncomfortably from time to time and my bathroom trips in the middle of the night have increased (he is super low most of the time), but otherwise I am counting myself lucky! The last ultrasound with growth measurements will be this Thursday; I am curious to see if this little one has as big a head as his brother did at that point. The 3d ultrasound I had at the beginning of the month showed that he bears at least a bit of a resemblance to his brother; we'll have to wait to see if the coloring sets him apart or not.

Anyway...hopefully I'll be back later in the week with another post. I'd love anyone to pitch in a late attempt at the Mother poems, since no one has taken a crack at it yet...

10 weeks left...

2010-05-14T23:16:00.002-05:00

As slowly as the beginning of this pregnancy had gone, the last few months seem to have flown by. Perhaps it's the juxtaposition of how heavy and slow I feel like I am getting and how much I need to be aware of my constantly-active toddler (mostly damage control when he's in destructo-mode, trying to swim in the dog's water, open the china cabinet, etc.). Maybe that's why I need to nap so often in this pregnancy and I didn't really in my first one.

I am feeling pretty peaceful about this little one's impending arrival. I guess it's because I've gotten to the point where it is reasonable to expect a good outcome even if he chooses to come early. Otherwise I have to think it's because I have now been through all of this before, so there is not so much fear of the unknown. I'm sure he will have some surprises in store for me, but I'm trying to remain zen about all of it. No use worrying right now whether he will sleep well or be colicky, etc.

Anyway, I wanted to check in since I hadn't posted at all this week. I'll try to be better next week.

Poetry Challenge #27: Mother Poem

2010-05-06T21:13:00.002-05:00

I realize it has been awhile since I have posted a challenge, but I could not let this opportunity pass by to pay tribute to my wonderful mother, given that Mother's Day is this Sunday. If anyone would like to join me, you are more than welcome. I'll leave the formatting up to you, and if you would rather write it about a mother-figure who did not give you life physically, feel free to substitute that person. OR, if you would prefer to write about yourself being a mom, that's also great. If you are writing in tribute of someone, however, please share your poem with her; things like that mean a lot!

Here is mine.

Mother’s Day

I remember climbing on my Mama’s lap,
snuggling in close would solve any mishap.
Her humming was gentle as summer’s soft wind,
and as I grew older, I found her a friend.

We weathered some storms as I went through my teens,
although they were mild by most people’s means.
Struck with the loss of my dad, we held on
to each other, and through the hurt we grew strong.

A mother myself now, I have no more doubt
of how all my Mama’s strong love was poured out.
No matter how far from her arms I may roam,
The sound of her voice can provide me a home.

The Joy of Toddlers.

2010-05-06T20:57:00.000-05:00

Boy arranges two bites of sausage, one touching the other to resemble a figure. “The number eight!” he crows. He then stuffs them in his mouth. “Mmmm, eight.”

After a visit from the grandparents, Boy wakes up the next morning asking “Where Gamma? Where Pop Pop?” I tell him they went back to St. Paul. He considers this, then repeatedly tells me, “Pop Pop in St. Paw.”

Driving around town, Boy enjoys pointing out the various vehicles. “Look, Mommy, here comes a bus!” Two seconds later: “Bye bus!” He will do the same for trains and garbage trucks.

Wheeling around the grocery store, Boy enjoys shaking boxes of cereal and pointing out interesting packaging: “Look, Mommy, shiny! Look, Mommy, pretty colors!”

I love living with a two-year-old.

A rant, snapshots and a confession.

2010-04-21T21:55:00.003-05:00

A few last ranty haiku:

Great job, truck driver,

stopping across the crosswalk,

for no good reason.

I really enjoyed

walking through your exhaust cloud

with my two-year-old.

I hope it was worth

endangering families

to gain two seconds.

All right, for now it may be out of my system.

I am endlessly entertained by my ever-more-verbal toddler. The other morning two of his favorite shows mentioned the word "camouflage". Since then, he has been hiding things and saying, "alaflage". I think he has a rudimentary grasp of the concept.

The other thing he is working on, bless his little heart, is "yuv you Mommy." I think I have only heard it three times, but I would probably crawl on my belly through fire to hear it again.

Confession: I am a napaholic. For the last few months, after figuring out I was not getting back my energy in the second trimester, I have resigned myself (without much prodding, admittedly) to taking a nap when my toddler does. Now, however, when he starts stirring again it is difficult to actually get out of bed again. I have found myself with my brain fully alert but not physically able to move. Sigh. Maybe I should be going to bed earlier. I guess it would be helpful if the boy would stop waking in the night...I think he is working on those blasted two year molars. YAWN...

Declaration.

2010-04-20T13:54:00.003-05:00

This blog post is hereby declared ranty-haiku post. Observe:

Dearest chirping bird,

it is four in the morning.

Shush, if you love life.

Kid screaming in street:

you really should know better.

Let the nappers nap.

If you do not want

to share your food with toddlers,

don't let them see it.

Why, no, everyone,

I had not noticed that I

am extremely huge.

When you point it out,

I am grateful; I worried

no one could yet tell.

A word to the wise:

despite your experience,

don't guess. You'll be wrong.

By the way, it's not

"any day now" that I'm due,

I have till July.

And yes, I have checked

several times with my doctor,

and no, it's not twins.

So let's let it rest

and you can think your deep thoughts

and leave me alone!

100 days.

2010-04-14T22:11:00.003-05:00

It's hard to believe that there are only 100 days at most until our next little boy arrives. My doctor has already assured me that because of my first son's hefty 9 pound-plus birth weight, she likely won't let me exceed the due date. He is so strong, even though he barely weighs over a pound at this point. I don't remember my older son kicking quite so often or so hard. I hope that doesn't mean he'll be a handful, but even if he is, I will love him more than life.

I am eager to find out whether this little guy shares my eldest's fair skin, hair and eyes or if he takes more after daddy's dark handsomeness. I'll get a bit of a hint in a few weeks when we have a 3-D ultrasound, but until then I'll just have my daydreams.

I am so proud of my two-year-old. He is coming out with new words daily, and I can tell he wants to say even more. I have no doubt he will be talking in paragraphs before I know it. The other day he was pretending to eat a sticker and saying "Mmm, yelicious." He learned the words "awesome" and "cool" this week, ensuring his hipster status. Listening to him trying to sing all the words of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" is pretty entertaining, as he still doesn't know all the words, so he replaces some of them with rhyming syllables. Ahh.

Haiku News

Stocks rallied today,

good news for my 529

for my sons' college.

Seems it is unclear

whether 8-year-old knows just

what he gave at school.

Man's old Atari

video game cartridge fetched

over $30k!?

Tragedy.

2010-04-10T22:26:00.004-05:00

I just learned a few hours ago of the horrendous, deadly plane crash claiming the lives of Poland's president and first lady as well as many top leaders of their government and military. While as an American I knew none of these people, any event involving such a large loss of life seems to ask for acknowledgment.

My favorite professor of poetry, Adam Zagajewski, is Polish as well, and this event called him back to the front of my mind. I contacted him last summer in the hope of creating a reading list of poets to fill up my reservoir of poetic inspiration, and one poet he says he is always reading is Wlslawa Szymborska. She is a Polish poet of amazing depth and economy of language. I am finding it fitting to include one of her poems here, translated by Mikołaj Sekrecki.

Possibilities

I prefer the cinema.
I prefer cats.
I prefer oak-trees by the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking humans
to myself loving humanity.
I prefer having a thread with a needle close at hand.
I prefer green.
I prefer not claiming that
the intellect should be blamed for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer leaving before.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer old marked illustrations.
I prefer being laughable because of writing poems
to being laughable because of not writing them.
I prefer odd anniversaries in love life,
to be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who do not promise me anything.
I prefer calculated goodness to goodness that is too gullible.
I prefer the earth in civvy street.
I prefer conquered countries to the conquering ones.
I prefer having my objections.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimm tales to the first pages of newspapers.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with their tails unclipped.
I prefer fair eyes since mine are dark.
I prefer drawers.
I prefer many things I have not listed above
to many others unlisted here.
I prefer noughts that are loose
to those queueing for a digit.
I prefer insect time to stellar time.
I prefer touching wood.
I prefer not asking how much longer and when.
I prefer considering even such a possibility
that existence has its reasons.

Poetry Challenge #26: Spring Poem

2010-04-08T22:04:00.003-05:00

Well, chickadees, whether the weather in your backyard is indicative of it or not, the calendar claims it is spring, so with that comes my challenge to write a poem in reflection of that fact. Because I am in one of the unfortunate areas that suffers from some season-identity crisis every time the seasons change, my poem will echo that, but yours can be as joyous or not as you desire. As always, this theme-based challenge only has that single requirement, so feel free to use any sort of form or rhyme scheme that tickles your fancy.

Here's my effort:

Walking 'round in my winter coat

one time more than I hoped I would,

it occurred to me that seasons should

change like channels on TV,

not like stations on the radio,

cold static bleeding over into the sweet

melodies of warmer times.

Yet signs of victory abound,

despite defiant wintry gasps:

trees show signs of verdant green

and some bold ones even sport blooms;

the grass is showing signs of life

and flowers have unearthed themselves.

As I gaze on the fledgling leaves

presenting trees in the manner

of Monet, with delicate flecks of emerald

seeming to dance before my eyes,

I glimpse the blue beyond the grey

of clouds threatening rain over my head,

and dream of days not long from now

when warmth will win, the winter dead.

10 things I love about my little boy.

2010-04-08T21:54:00.003-05:00

1. The way his nose wrinkles when he is really happy, and he can't help stomping his feet with joy.

2. The way he says "peez" and "tek you".

3. The way he sleeps on his tummy with his hands underneath his body.

4. He has started parroting things from me and off TV, leading to fun things like our "You OK Mommy?" exchange at least 10 times a day.

5. The way he says "Hewwo" to strangers when we're out on a walk.

6. The way his hair always has a little piece sticking up at a funny angle.

7. The way he snuggles into me when he's feeling sleepy.

8. Watching him explore his world with such wonder.

9. Now that he can say the word, discovering what a two-year-old considers beautiful. Like fire trucks.

10. The way he tries to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," even though he can't say all the words yet.

Minerva, pity party of one.

2010-04-06T22:13:00.003-05:00

Sigh.

My son has gotten over the cold we both had last week, and seemed back to his sunny self today.

Other than that, today was, shall we say, challenging.

I was getting the boy ready for our afternoon walk when a sadly-familiar odor of urine wafted under my nose. Sure enough, our dog had taken a huge pee on my living room rug. Again. This time at least I can't blame myself because she had gone out on her regular schedule today. After we returned from the walk and I let her out again, I steam-cleaned the rug. It hadn't even had time to dry before I smelled something rather worse than pee. Yep, she decided to poop the biggest poop I've ever seen my 12 pound dog produce on the exact same spot. Anyone want a dog? Cheap? Free???

To top it off, I let myself blow off some steam on Facebook the other day by posting a status update related to my neighbor's daughter's trike being left on our common porch. My son sees it daily and has lately been carrying on or whining because he can't ride it. He doesn't have one yet but he will shortly. Anyway, I had made mention of the situation on Facebook, even throwing in the choice phrase of "stupid trike", and my neighbor saw it. Lovely. I don't think she liked me much to start with, but that certainly didn't help the situation. Of course I wrote her a message apologizing profusely and saying it wasn't her fault that my son was upset at all, there probably isn't anywhere else she can put it anyway, but I don't know if that will help things much. Sigh.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Haiku News

A breath of fresh air:

Coburn defends Pelosi,

then rips on Fox News.

Bad medicine here:

doctors perform c-section,

woman not pregnant.

Airline adds new charge

for passengers' carry-ons;

what's next? Charge for air?

Convalescing.

2010-03-29T21:58:00.004-05:00

My sincere apologies for another prolonged absence. I contracted a nasty cold last Sunday and am only just getting over a stubborn cruddy cough, which I can tell you is at least 30 times more annoying when pregnant. Particularly because your choice of medications available is severely curtailed.

I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. This morning I woke up after a relatively unbroken night's sleep, the first in a week. I was nearly floored (even though I was still lying down) by a huge wave of love and contentment. I realized how lucky I was to have such a wonderful husband and two (almost) beautiful little boys, and how much I loved them. I wished my husband hadn't already left for work so I could give him a huge hug. Adding to my increasing sense of glee is a prediction for several days of 70-degree weather in the next few days. The boy's new spring/summer wardrobe is in the wash in preparation for warmer days ahead. Birds have been helping me wake up the past few days.

I am confident that once I finally kick this illness, I will finally have energy to do some things I have been putting off. Namely, writing more poetry and hopefully biting the bullet and starting to edit that novel I wrote in November. Part of my motivation for writing more poetry is that April is National Poetry Month. Any ideas for topics/ other poetry-related things you'd like to see here are quite welcome, consider the comments section my suggestion box. A heads-up for this week's Poetry Challenge: I think it's high time we did Spring poems.

Haiku News

If you are surprised

Ricky Martin has come out,

you have no gay-dar.

High up on my list

of things I would never watch:

Levi Johnston's show.

Scary things afoot:

Michigan-based militia

planned to kill police.

A few small conversations.

2010-03-18T22:36:00.003-05:00

"Mommy?"

"Yes, honey?"

"You OK, Mommy?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Are you OK?"

"I fine."

****

"Mommy?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Where going?"

"I'm going to be here with you, sweetie."

****

"Sweetie, after your snack we'll get your shoes on and go on a walk to the park!"

"Shoes on, walk, park! Whee!"

Haiku News

Way to go, Ms. James,

but your timing could have been

better--March Madness?

New Jersey Wal-Mart

has a mystery to solve:

who's the PA jerk?

This piece makes me sad,

between ignorant adults

and lazy parents.

Could it be?

2010-03-11T21:54:00.003-06:00

The snow has melted. The sun seems to be out more than the clouds of late. The past two days I have been able to take the boy for a walk without needing a jacket of any kind. In fact, yesterday was the first day I could take the boy to the park and put him on a swing in months. The look on his face was priceless. Could it be...spring? I am hoping against hope that this is indeed the case. I am tired of my nose running and my fingers hurting anytime I venture outside for longer than a few minutes.

The boy is really turning into a mimic these days. Yesterday he sneezed and I said "bless you," which he promptly repeated. He is also working on "I love you". His pronunciation of "dinosaur" reminds me of a New Yorker even though he has never heard that accent before. I am finding that more and more he will repeat something I said moments before. While I do not generally use any sort of bad language, I will definitely need to be on high alert from now on that I don't say anything I don't want a tiny voice repeating.

As for the littlest one, last Friday we found out our boy is getting a little brother. He is already a bit of a wily one; I have had several days where I could feel him kick high enough to put my hand on my belly and feel it from the outside, but it seems that every time I am around other people he stays conveniently head up so that all his kicks are too low to put a hand on. Stinker.

Haiku News

I'm sorry, but why

should I care that George Clooney

frowned at the Oscars?

I will never know

what drives teachers to have sex

with teenage students.

This one makes me ill:

since when is love "dangerous"

to a high school prom?

Anticipation...

2010-03-03T13:50:00.003-06:00

It is so hard to wait for things sometimes. Now that little munchkin has started regularly making his/her presence known, it's getting more "real" and I am really excited about the "big" ultrasound on Friday. Last time we kept it a surprise, which was awesome, but this time I just have to know if our little boy is getting a little brother or a little sister. So hopefully if the baby cooperates we'll know in just under 48 hours. Now that it's so close it is really hard to wait. I am trying to keep busy, but I'm sure you are familiar with the feeling: the more you are looking forward to something, the slower time seems to go until you get there. Sigh...at least tomorrow I will have my mom here to help me pass the time.

Speaking of big brother, he is just so funny lately. He seems to be able to recognize the numbers 1, 3, 4 and 5, and often if you start counting he will join you. If he starts it himself though, it is likely to sound like "Four, five, four, five!" He also likes to say "green," although I don't think he quite knows what that is yet. He is just learning Mickey and Minnie Mouse, and Minnie frequently comes out "money," as in the other day when he pointed at her picture and said "Yaaaaay Money!" What a silly guy. We live close enough to our church to be able to walk, and the last few weeks we have taken our little boy by the hand and had him walk to church with us rather than riding in the stroller. I am proud to say he will frequently make both trips with no problems.

Haiku News

"Take your child to work"

taken to a new level:

kid directs airplanes.

Lesson for the wise:

if a girl asks for your kid,

call authorities.

Another good tip:

when departing on cruise ships,

bring sanitizer.

Time is relative.

2010-02-26T23:44:00.002-06:00

Right? I mean, the first trimester of this pregnancy seemed to crawl along, more like 13 months than 13 weeks.

Now that I have passed the first trimester it seems like every week goes by faster than the last. Three weeks ago when I made my appointment for our "big" anatomy ultrasound, I felt like March 5 was forever away. Now it's a week from today. One of the things that keeps slipping through my fingers is remembering to make an entry here every so often. I will come back with a shiny new poetry challenge next week. I have found that if I do one on the weekend everyone is too busy to do it, anyway.

Meanwhile, my son told me as I got him out of his crib today and our dog was having a conniption fit downstairs, "Puppy barking!" Yes, and I had no idea he knew how to say that. Cute guy. He also discovered the word "broken" to describe the crackers he likes to destroy during snacks, only he pronounces it more like "bacon." "Cracker bacon!" he says, pointing out the two halves sitting on his tray.

Something that tends to dependably provide giggles the last few days has been if my son points to my belly, we'll play peek-a-boo. I will lift my shirt up and say "Belly!" and he laughs. If I put it down, he wants me to do it again. We'll see how long it is a novelty, I guess.

Poetry Challenge #25: "Wordle" poem

2010-02-18T22:31:00.003-06:00

Once again, a huge thanks to ReadWritePoem.org for this lovely prompt. Please click on their link to see the original "wordle," or collection of random words, from which to draw your inspiration. You may use as many or as few of the words in the wordle as you would like. Any form is fine. Enjoy!

Here is my effort, using all of the words provided.

Evening Commute

Briskly striding forth, bracing
against cold wind as fading
light glints off frosted sidewalks,
she sees him, collar turned up,
smoke curling from corner of mouth
around his head. Staring.

A lubricious fellow, she thinks,
quickening her pace, feeling as if
she now walks on eggshells.
Her ear sharpens, waiting
to hear footsteps behind.
As day decays, her mind runs wild.

She tries to force the images
out of her panic-prone mind:
a patter of hacksaw, crown of nails,
red blood flowing as in a botched
dissection of a frog...
Arriving at her gate, a glance behind
confirms her mind’s fiction.

Home.

Miss me?

2010-02-17T21:10:00.003-06:00

I do.

Seriously, sometimes I miss my brain lately. I think the process of growing a new baby eats it to a certain extent. "Pregnancy brain" is in full effect from early on, and I'm lucky to remember to take my son upstairs with me when I go to change his diaper. I mispronounce words or get sentences in the wrong order. Once I plop down on the couch for the night it's usually over for me to get anything else done. Oh, and lately babe rewards my laziness with a few barrel rolls or gentle shadow-boxing. Ahh.

My little boy is the cutest thing ever lately. He loves making all kinds of animal noises (my personal favorites: the peacock: "ah-aaah" and the frog: "bi-hit") and lately has been pretty obsessed with letters. I swear, I do not sit him down with flash cards, he just has been pointing at them and I will tell him what they are, and he remembers. He has an alphabet puzzle that he will go through and name most of the letters right off the bat with no prompting. He just turned two on the 4th. We may be in trouble here. :)

To top it off, I am somewhat of an Olympic nerd so I am continuously distracted by watching the various Olympic events, particularly the figure skating (even though the new scoring system leaves me completely baffled). I guess I am a sucker for the looks on Olympians' faces (not JUST Americans, really anyone) that realize that all of their hard work and dedication has paid off in winning a medal. Or sometimes (such as in the case of the American pairs skaters) they are just happy with getting a personal best score. I love that. Having competed on a much lower level in horseback riding, I remember having personal goals that felt just as good as winning when I reached them.

So, this is my way of saying, my apologies for being so absent lately. I guess it is shortchanging my son if I don't come on and keep track of what he's doing despite my mental lameness. I am going to try to be better now (I know, I've said that before too...I mean it this time!). I will be back tomorrow with a new poetry challenge.

Haiku News

Girl sues principal

over Facebook page against

teacher; cites free speech.

Kevin Eubanks quits

"Tonight Show with Jay Leno;"

some know when to leave.

Problems keep coming

for Toyota; now U.S.

probing Corollas.

Poetry Challenge #24: Three-Legged Chair Poem

2010-01-27T22:27:00.006-06:00

Before we get started this week, please do check out last week's tributes to the tragedy and heroic efforts we've witnessed in Haiti. You can read them here.

This week's challenge is once again borrowed from a terrific website, ReadWritePoem. They have offered up the picture to the right of this paragraph and encouraged their readers to devise a poem trying to explain or describe what is happening here. Why is the figure wearing a hood? How did the chair get there? Why is it broken? Why is the figure contemplating the chair? What is holding the chair up? You can answer any, all, or none of these questions, just use the picture as your inspiration this week.

Here is my poem:

Standing Still

Sometimes silence is the loudest sound.
This land has given up every trace
of life, save what I am clinging to
deep within myself.

My hood drawn up against
the whipping wind,
I cannot bear to break my gaze.
This chair appears useless,
yet in all its brokenness
it defies gravity and common sense
merely by remaining upright.

The same could be said
for certain human spirits.
Grief, disability, mental struggle
may be their “missing leg,”
yet they remain standing
in spite of all that would see them fall.

Merely looking at this oddity
gives me hope, regardless
of my own local tragedies.
It is almost as if someone placed it here
just for me to stumble upon,
a small sign
that all will be right with the world
if I can hang on.

So, take a look, have a think, and please share what you come up with here!

Photo credit: "December 21, 2007: #25" by Sepulture {Mood Disorder}.

Urgh.

2010-01-26T23:19:00.003-06:00

So, a couple at our church who have been absent for awhile came back to baptize their two children, the younger of which is 7 months old. When the wife saw me, she asked if I was 6 or 7 months pregnant. Uh, no, lady, try 3 1/2. Sheesh, it's really nice to make another woman feel like a cow when she's nowhere near as big as she will get at the end! If my last pregnancy is any indication, I will be pretty large even at 7 months... but I guess that's what happens when you are short-waisted. There's nowhere for baby to go but out. :)

Haiku News

Toyota suspends

sales: a pesky problem with

accelerator.

Missing Tech student

believed found on remote farm;

sad news for family.

"Pants on the Ground" guy:

I seem to be alone in

being over you.

poetry Challenge #23: Haiti poem.

2010-01-15T22:48:00.005-06:00

I'm sure many of you have been affected by the stories and images coming out of Haiti over the past few days. I think it appropriate to lend our talents in honor and tribute to the noble spirit of the aid workers and the fallen in the disaster-stricken country.

Here is my best effort for now; I may come back and fix this up at some point.

What remains when everything

is subtracted from a place

with nothing left to give?

A deceptive paradise;

pristine beaches embracing

shantytowns and starving people

praying for a ray of light.

Now all the poor have left

is hope; blind, yet determined;

groping, but tenacious;

stumbling, but stoic.

Pain-filled eyes lift up to the sky,

waiting for what horror might happen next.

Parched mouths open, gladly taking water

as they wait for medicine, bandages, food.

Slowly, a beleaguered people

find their way out of the rubble

of their past lives, seeking

for a new and better way.

After all, it cannot possibly

get any worse,

can it?

Milkshake day.

2010-01-15T21:58:00.003-06:00

I've been looking forward to today for quite some time. Today marks the day I decided it would be safe to announce to the world that we are expecting again. I was a bit more cautious this time, since we've so recently been burned, but this one seems to be sticking around. I guess now you all know why I've been so flaky and tired lately.

I suppose I should explain the title of this post. It's Milkshake Day because I decided if I made it to 13 weeks this time I would celebrate with a milkshake from our local ice cream place, which are enormous but not super healthy, so I only indulge once in a blue moon. I don't think a milkshake has ever tasted quite so sweet. Now I feel like I can actually start looking forward to July with some degree of certainty and breathe at least a little sigh of relief.

Haiku News

Infrastructure throws

a wrench in Haiti relief;

hope that straightens out.

Ohhh man...

2010-01-14T22:18:00.002-06:00

So time got away from me again today. After 10PM lately my brain has been mush. I promise to put up a new poetry challenge tomorrow night; I just don't have the energy to do it tonight.

I am amazed at the beauty of this week's submissions for the poetry challenge. In addition, faithful reader and poster Paige has encouraged several of her children to submit rondeaus (rondeaux?) for one of my previous challenges. For now, please enjoy the snow poems here and the rondeaus here.

Finally, please, if you pray, pray for the people of Haiti. It was already among the most impoverished countries on Earth, and now it has suffered probably the largest natural disaster in my lifetime. If it is possible, please donate to the Red Cross's International Relief Fund, as my family has.

Poetry Challenge #22: Snow Poem

2010-01-07T21:55:00.004-06:00

As I am running out of material from which to cull ideas for poetic forms, I am going to wing this one. I will let participants choose their preferred form of poem; I am just dictating the subject: snow.

Here goes:

Snow Day

At first glance it looks

like fog, but deeper

through the haze, reveals

the tiny flakes slipping

through the atmosphere.

The earth slowly draws up

its light, crisp blanket,

fluffy but giving no warmth,

blowing like down but

stinging the eyes like tiny needles.

With eyes closed, it sounds as if

the world has been paused,

snow muffling every ordinary

event to the point of nearly

deafening silence.

Biting wind takes its toll,

eyes and nose streaming,

begging to be returned

to climate controlled conditions.

Fingers reluctantly cede sensation.

What little can be smelled

is sharp, clean, and very cold.

If one could smell a smooth

piece of sharp metal,

this would be it.

Air nearly tastes of mint,

drawing a deep breath

produces the inevitable cough,

lungs protesting the arctic invasion

of their tropical environs.

Returning from the frozen

tundra, body confused

by the sudden intrusion of warmth

in the once-huddled mass,

the strip-down to human begins.

Snow Day.

2010-01-07T21:36:00.003-06:00

Well, the storm our weathermen had been predicting hit as expected. I ended up counting my shoveling the front walk and sweeping snow off our porch and stairs as my exercise for the day. I love snow but I wish it knew how to keep itself off of the sidewalk and stairs all by itself. Sigh.

The boy was charming as always. He finally started singing again today--he'd taken a few weeks' hiatus--returning to his old favorite, "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." He doesn't really know most of the words, so he makes them up as he goes along, but it is still the cutest thing ever, if I do say so myself.

Haiku News

Burned body in trash

identified as former

Playboy model--yikes.

Newark TSA

agent left post, allowing

security breach.

Do we really need

our cars to read Twitter feeds

aloud as we drive?

200th Post.

2010-01-05T22:41:00.003-06:00

This here is my 200th post. In it I will have to offer yet another apology: I just don't have enough mental energy to get the poetry challenge up tonight. In all honesty, I didn't get any entries in the Christmas week one anyway (even my own!), so maybe you all can weigh in on whether to extend that one or create a new one tomorrow. I would love to hear your suggestions.

The boy is really being cute lately. He likes to pile his Little People animals into his little train-cars and say "bye bye!". If you ask him where something is, he'll say "Where go?" and if he finds it, he will say "There is!" with a really cute little lisp. Sigh. I think he is enjoying being home and back in his own comfy bed because he has indulged me with good naps and night-sleeps since we've been back from vacation. I hope that continues.

Haiku News

Thanksgiving gunman

who killed four, including tot,

nabbed on TV tip.

Hubble Telescope

looks back thirteen billion years:

baby galaxies.

Nexus Smartphone claims

it's not an "iPhone killer;"

I guess time will tell.

Palindrome.

2010-01-02T21:49:00.002-06:00

I was notified earlier today of the significance of today's date: 01/02/2010: a palindrome. I adore palindromes, whether words or numbers. I just love anything that is the same backward or forward. Probably my favorite two word-palindromes are the name Hannah and the sentence: A man, a plan, a canal: Panama.

I resolve to regain my old posting stamina shortly; the regular features of this blog will make their triumphant return hopefully this week. Thank you for your patience. In the meantime, if you haven't seen my blogs on my least and most-favorite Christmas carols, please enjoy those!

My Christmas gift to you: Favorite Christmas Carols/ Tunes

2009-12-24T12:53:00.002-06:00

Okay, so I had fun ripping on some horrible Christmas songs yesterday. Now I will treat you to my personal favorites. There are quite a few more of these, and surprisingly, there are several people who made my "worst" list who have an entry on my "best" list. I guess they just were the risk-taking types, no? As per usual, I will try to include a video with each as I can find them. I can't really put these in any particular order; the only thing I can tell you is that I will let you know which one is my ultimate favorite at the very end. Please enjoy!

1. "Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul McCartney.

I think this song embodies the happiness and simplicity of the joyful season. I can't help smiling when I hear it. That's what a modern Christmas song should be.

2. "Step Into Christmas" by Elton John.

I love that it opens with "Welcome to my Christmas song, I'd like to thank you for the year." What a nice, humble gesture from a superstar. Otherwise it manages to conjure the same feeling for me as the McCartney tune.

3. The Twelve Days of Christmas by Straight No Chaser.

If you haven't seen this version of it yet, you MUST watch it. It is guaranteed to put a smile on your face, especially toward the end. Trust me.

4. The Twelve Days of Christmas by John Denver and the Muppets.

Any self-respecting Muppets fan would agree that there is nothing quite like Beaker taking a solo: "Mee mee mee mee mee mee!"

5. "Some Children See Him" by James Taylor.

I love his whole Christmas album, but I really like this song; the lyrics are so beautiful, so I chose it to represent the album.

6. The Nutcracker Suite.

This will always remind me of Christmas since I went to see the ballet every year from when I was about seven until high school. I don't have a particular favorite version, as long as the themes are recognizable. Here's probably my very favorite song from it when I was a little girl. I wanted to BE the Sugar Plum Fairy.

7. "White Christmas" by Bing Crosby.

Probably my favorite non-religious Christmas song. It's a great movie, too! And I love Bing's voice. Having lived part of my life in southern California, I truly appreciate the white Christmases I've had and will have in the future.

8. "The Christmas Song" by Nat King Cole.

It's a close call for me between Nat's version and Mel Tormé's original, but I had to go with Nat here since I haven't chosen his other songs. Just a gorgeous voice.

9. "Christmastime is Here" by the Vince Guaraldi Trio.

The classic song from the Peanuts' Christmas special. I love both versions: the instrumental and the one with the children's choir. I think the words are terrific, which makes it understandable why so many artists have covered the tune. However, call me old-fashioned (I am in this case!), but I still like the original the best.

9. "The Christmas Waltz" by the Carpenters.

I told you I love me some Carpenters. Here is the proof. A lovely song not many people sing anymore, but I like it. I particularly like Karen Carpenter's version of anything since our singing voices are scarily alike.

11. "I'll Be Home for Christmas" by Michael Bublé.

I have grown to truly appreciate this song since having to divide my time on holidays between my family and my in-laws. We trade off on Thanksgiving and Christmas, and it works well but it still doesn't prevent me from missing my mom a bit when the big day is approaching. Sigh. Michael Bublé is not bad to listen to (or look at) while feeling these pangs, however.

12. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" by Judy Garland.

I used to tease my husband for preferring the "depressing" original lyrics to the song, but considering it was written during World War II and reunions were much more uncertain at the time, I have come to love it too. So this one's for you, honey.

13. "In the Bleak Mid-Winter" by Julie Andrews

This is my all-time favorite Christmas carol; it doesn't really matter to me who is singing it. I chose this version because I particularly love the words: it is a poem written by Christina Rossetti and it can make me tear up sometimes. What a lovely way to prepare your heart for Christmas.

14. Ave Maria (Biebl version) by Chanticleer.

Okay, I know I said earlier that technically Ave Maria is not a Christmas song. But people do tend to think of Mary around Christmas (I wonder why?), and this arrangement of the song is my favorite ever, to listen to or perform. I love the soaring soprano line; I was lucky enough to sing that part once. Ahh. And Chanticleer is the most amazing all-male a cappella singing group ever. I mean it. They can sing anything.

15. "O Holy Night" by Josh Groban.

I adore Josh Groban's operatic-caliber voice and how effortlessly he seems to sing. I am very sad to say that apparently this song is unavailable on iTunes, and somehow he left it off of his Christmas album last year. However, I think that his version is the best one recorded in the last 10 years.

16. "God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen" by the Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan.

Two of my favorite Canadian acts team up for this one. I like the fresh take on the song as well.

17. "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" by Jars of Clay.

I adore the words of this song as well; it encompasses the discouragement we can all feel at this time, but ends with such hope. I love the older versions too, but I could find the video of the Jars version.

18. "Beautiful Star of Bethlehem" by the Judds.

This is another nostalgic song for me. My mom had the Judds' Christmas album and we learned the harmonies and sang along with them. This is her favorite song from the CD, and I love it as well. I have only ever heard one other group even sing this song, but it is really a pretty, lilting song.

19. "Love Came Down at Christmas" by Jars of Clay.

This is another Rossetti poem set to music, reiterating the theme that love is at the heart of Christmas. What better message could there be?

20. "Christmas Song" by Dave Matthews.

One of the few original Christmas songs to come out in the last few years that I think is brilliant. Just a beautiful, gentle song.

21. "What Child is This (Greensleeves)" by Sarah McLachlan.

I like this hymn anyway, but Sarah's take on it is really unique, and I like it. Very soothing, making it almost like a lullaby.

I hope you enjoy my little collection as much as I do. Please feel free to comment on your favorite, whether or not I included it. My Christmas playlist is over 12 hours long, so I had to be very picky choosing these few songs. Odds are I have at least some version of yours too!

I hope everyone has a blessed holiday season and a marvelous, enlightening new year.

Top Ultra Most Hated Christmas Carols

2009-12-23T22:59:00.004-06:00

Today, as promised, I will elaborate on my most-hated Christmas carols. For now, I cannot finish my tribute poem as I said I would yesterday--I was drawn into a spontaneous game of Skip-Bo with the in-laws. Family bonding will trump blogging for the time being.

Anyway, here it is without further ado. These songs are in no particular order; they all make me want to rip my hair out by the roots. There are fifteen, so it's a good length CD to throw at something moving very fast so that it shatters. I don't blame you if you don't click on the videos to hear these monstrosities (a few of which I am sure you have anyway, and I'm sorry), but I will provide them when available.

1. "The Twelve Pains of Christmas."

This song makes me grate my teeth until I feel like I am getting a headache. It is a poor attempt to parody the original Twelve Days of Christmas song, but it features very bad impressions of Archie Bunker, a whiny kid and assorted other characters I don't want to hear complaining about the negative aspects of the Christmas season. I feel that if a song is supposed to be funny, if it is not funny, it fails.

2. "The Twelve Days of Christmas" performed by the Sinatra family:

Frank, Nancy, and Frank Jr. Frank thought it would be cute to turn the song into a list of crappy presents he got from his kids. It wasn't. 'Nuff said.

3. "Santa Baby" by Madonna.

I think this song can be pretty cute and/or funny when performed with some subtlety, but when Madonna sings it, it is like she is either drunk or trying very hard to be Adelaide from Guys and Dolls, doing her strongest New York accent. Ugh.

4. "Merry Christmas, Darling" by the Carpenters.

Don't get me wrong, I love me some Carpenters. I grew up with their "Christmas Portrait" album playing many times throughout December and own a copy myself. But this original (I think) song on that album is just the cheesiest thing I have ever heard. I mean, really: "The logs on the fire fill me with desire/ to see you and to say..."???? I have yet to be turned on by firewood. I realize that is not what the lyric is intending to mean, but when you leave a big pause right there, that's how it sounds. Fail.

5. "Old Fashioned Christmas" by Frank Sinatra.

This is looking like I don't like Frank either. I do, usually, but he is great at finding some cheese. This is another example of it. I take particular issue with two very dated lines from the song: "My mom's there in the kitchen, basting the Christmas bird", and "You can't find that at the Automat."

6. "Jingle Bells" by the Glenn Miller Orchestra.

I usually adore big band arrangements, but upon hearing this version of Jingle Bells, I just about choked. It contains a horrible original verse in which "Down in Mexico, we ain't got no snow...sit around all day, hear the music play, ev'ry time we sing, tequila glasses ring!" Um, racist much??? Those lazy, drunken Mexicans. I am appalled that they are still playing this crap on the Holiday Traditions station on Sirius XM Radio. It may be traditional to be racist, but we don't need to perpetuate that one.

7. "Jingle Bells" by Barbra Streisand.

This is abhorrent for other reasons. First of all, as she often is, Streisand gets overindulgent with her arrangement. Secondly, she decides to act superior to everyone listening to her sing by attempting to dismiss the line "he got into a drifted bank and then we got upsot," by repeating, "Upsot??" as if it is not a word. Barbie, honey, it may not seem like a word to you, but think for two seconds about your context clues. If you're riding in a sleigh and it runs into a big ole snowbank, what do you think will happen? What words you know sound like upsot? Upset, perhaps?? Sigh.

8. "The Christmas Shoes."

This song is played entirely too much every year. I feel like it was written by some disturbed individual who is preying on everyone's emotions around the holidays in order to sell some copies of a song. It is attempting to pull every string to get a tear to the listener's eye: a sob story, not-very-talented children singing, and a kid whose story could just as easily be a scam for him to then take the "Christmas shoes" down the street and fence them for cash. Ugh.

9. "Christmas Song" by the Chipmunks.

Again, this song tends to be very overplayed. Maybe it is especially annoying lately to me because of the two horrible movies made featuring the rodents in the past few years, but I could go my whole life without hearing this song again.

10. "Last Christmas" by Wham!

This is my least favorite of the genre of Christmas songs that I feel has the least to do with the actual holiday: the whiny love song. OK, it sucks that you tried to give your heart to a jerkwad last year, but do you have to whine about it this year too? Other songs in this genre are "All I Want for Christmas is You," "Blue Christmas," and the ever-popular "Pretty Paper." Apparently the birth of a savior means nothing to these people if they can't get laid. UGH.

11. "Christmas Canon" by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

This one pairs inane lyrics ("Merry Christmas" x4, "The hope that he brings" x4, etc.) with some really questionable chords in the children's choir. Probably my least favorite part is near the end, however, when they repeat the soprano line: "On this night! On this night! On this very Christmas night!" about 500 times.

12. "Merry Christmas America."

As far as I remember, this song was just an attempt to turn "God Bless the U.S.A." into a Christmas song. Apparently it has gone into hiding, however; I can't find it on Google despite repeated attempts to locate it. Perhaps because the title seems to coincide with a lot of op-ed pieces on the so-called "War on Christmas." Not going there.

13. "Do You Hear What I Hear?" by Whitney Houston.

Unfortunately, if you are listening closely to the lyrics of the recorded (not the live video above, that is just for reference) rendition, Miss Whitney is not completely with it for one reason or another. She clearly misses some lyrics entirely. I am not sure how this take ended up being the one considered "radio ready;" I probably would not have wanted to be present for the recording sessions if this is really the best take she did.

14. ANYTHING by the Ray Conniff Singers.

Their arrangements are the ultimate in bile-attracting cheese, and their delivery leaves nearly everything to be desired. Ever heard their version of "Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer"? It's the one with people shouting "Rudolph! Rudolph! Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer!!" Do I have to explain further why they are horrible?

15. "Christmas in the Northwest" by Brenda White.

I am pretty sure most people living outside of the Pacific Northwest region have been spared this gem, but it is SO incredibly cheesy that I had to share it with the masses here. The chorus: "Christmas in the Northwest/ is a gift we all can share. / Christmas in the Northwest/ is a child's answered prayer. / Take away the presents / and they still have a dream, / for Christmas in the Northwest / is a gift God wrapped in green." Need I say more?

So, there you have it. Fifteen putrid, festering excuses for the frothy delight that SHOULD be Christmas songs. I'm sure I probably left some that make you retch off my list. Feel free to share your misery with me--I may have just forgotten about that one!

Poetry Challenge #21: "Night Before Christmas" tribute poem

2009-12-22T22:51:00.002-06:00

This challenge, aside from being inspired by the season, is a bit of nostalgia for me. I used to read my dolls the traditional Clement Moore poem every Christmas Eve, and I plan to do the same for my children when they are old enough. So it is with the utmost respect that I will write my own version.

First, for everyone's reference, here is the original poem:

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes, how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"

After nearly an hour at work on this, I am not ready to share what I have so far. So my apologies, but I will post it hopefully tomorrow along with the carol countdown. Have at it, my little elves!

Okay...

2009-12-22T22:39:00.002-06:00

Due to an impromptu date night tonight, my list of my personal Worst Christmas Songs will be moved to tomorrow. We had some lovely Chinese food and saw The Princess and the Frog. It is really a wonderful movie, I highly recommend it.

I am delaying the song post mostly because I haven't done a Poetry Challenge in a month and I need to get that done tonight! I will be back with that later.

Knowing how much work I have ahead of me I had better not write any more here...I hope to post the challenge before midnight.

Solstice.

2009-12-21T21:13:00.005-06:00

Hello. We have arrived at our destination for the holidays relatively unscathed, if exhausted from the LONG journey. I passed some of the time in considering what to include in this week's holiday-related blogs. I also have not forgotten about the poetry challenge. Yes, patient readers, it will make its triumphant return tomorrow.

As a brief preview for tomorrow and following, I will deposit here the first of my analyses of Christmas songs. In this case, it is a list of songs that really should not be considered Christmas songs, since they are not explicitly addressing Christmas itself.

1. "My Favorite Things." This favorite from The Sound of Music hardly even mentions anything from winter. "Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes" and "sleighbells." I suppose you could also stretch "brown paper packages tied up with strings" as Christmas gifts, but that is super boring wrapping paper if you ask me.

2. "Baby, It's Cold Outside." Another kind of cute, kind of disturbing song in which a man tries to get into his date's pants by ~~getting her drunk~~ using his superior debate skills.

3. "Jingle Bells." Probably the best-known Christmas song of children really has no mention of the holiday in its lyrics. It's simply a sleighing song. In its innocent form (or if you like a twist, try James Taylor's take), it's perfectly harmless, but it's not a Christmas song.

4. "Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!" again, cute, snowy lyrics, a little romance, but no actual Christmas is alluded to, much less mentioned.

5. "I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm." I actually really like this song, but sadly, no mention of Christmas. It's really just a jazzy winter love song.

6. "Amazing Grace." Another of my favorite songs, but again, it's a great hymn but not a Christmas one.

7. "The Lord's Prayer." See #6.

8. "Hallelujah Chorus" from the Messiah. I just performed this for my church choir, but I realize that it was written as the grand finale for the whole work, which ends with Easter, so it really belongs at Easter. I am not sure how singing it at Christmas got started, although I realize it is now a widespread tradition.

9. "Winter Wonderland." Another non-Christmas but very wintery love song.

10. "Frosty the Snowman." Unless you use the Frosty quote from the movie, "I'll be back on Christmas Day!" instead of "I'll be back again someday!", it makes no mention of what is celebrated annually on December 25.

So, there's a taste of what I am bringing you over the next days. I think I'll probably start with my least-favorite lists (religious and non-religious) along with rationales and hopefully video examples of each, and then on Christmas I will post my very favorite songs/renditions for your enjoyment.

It's Wednesday, isn't it?

2009-12-16T22:15:00.003-06:00

And it's already 10:15?? Drat!

Such is my life lately that I actually did not register that it was Tuesday yesterday until about 11:45PM. Hence my utter failure to produce a poetry challenge. I am not sure how many times I will have to apologize for my utter mental meltdown lately. I can only point to my intense but worth-it experience with NaNoWriMo last month.

With that, I can see some light at the end of the tunnel. With next week comes some help with my little boy, since we will be headed for Grandma and Grandpa's for the holidays on Sunday. Whilst there, I hope to provide a few holiday treats for what readers have doggedly hung on during my dry spell: my top ten favorite Christmas songs, as well as the ten that belong in my Hall of Shame. I realize I promised that last year too, but I really will do it this time.

As a heads-up, for the next Poetry Challenge I plan on doing a "Night Before Christmas" tribute poem. As in, I will co-opt the rhyme scheme and rhythms of the classic poem but write my own twist on it. That is much what Dr. Seuss did to arrive at "How the Grinch Stole Christmas." So if that strikes your fancy, go ahead and get to work!

Sluggishness.

2009-12-11T22:45:00.003-06:00

This winter seems to have slowed my blood. It is so bitterly cold the last few days, it has made me loath to go outside or do much of anything other than sleep and burrow under blankets. I apologize for the lack of poetry challenge this week; I promise to be better next week. I figured it would be pretty pointless to put it up on a Friday night.

By my mom's request, here is the link to the recipe for the Macadamia Nut Butter cookies with dried cranberries. They are really good and don't take long to make, I recommend them so long as you have a food processor of some kind to grind up the macadamia nuts.

Haiku News

Centenarian

believed to be murdered by

roommate, nintety-eight.

"Sins of my Father"

features druglord's son's attempt

to make some amends.

Christmas cookies.

2009-12-09T22:24:00.003-06:00

Among my favorite things in the world to do is make Christmas cookies. I always have to make a few traditional kinds, but then I always (at least lately) will experiment with a few new ones, as well. But a few readers have requested the recipes for the "traditional" ones I've been making since I married my husband, so I will post the recipes below. If I'm feeling particularly productive later maybe I will post pictures as well.

Bon Bon Cookies

(I usually double this recipe since they go fast in our house)

3/4 cup powdered sugar

1 1/2 cups flour

1/2 cup butter, softened

1/8 tsp salt

1 tablespoon vanilla

chocolate chips

*if the mixture is dry, add 1-2 tablespoons of milk.

Heat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix everything but the chocolate chips. Form by teaspoonful into a ball around 2-3 chocolate chips. Bake 12-15 minutes until set but not brown. Cool completely, then dip tops in glaze.

Glaze for bon bons:

1 cup powdered sugar

1 tablespoon plus 1 1/2 teaspoons of milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

tint with a few drops of food coloring

I like to sprinkle the wet glaze with nonpareils or something tiny to make them fancier.

These are probably my husband's favorite thing ever.

Chocolate Crinkles

2 cups granulated sugar

1/2 cup vegetable oil

4 oz melted unsweetened chocolate

2 tsp vanilla

4 eggs

2 cups flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup powdered sugar

Mix sugar, oil, chocolate and vanilla. Mix in eggs, one at a time (I have been breaking them in a separate bowl since a mishap involving fishing lots of eggshell out of the batter!). Stir in flour, baking powder, and salt. Cover and refrigerate at least 3 hours.

Heat oven to 350 degrees. Shape dough by rounded teaspoonfuls into balls. Roll in powdered sugar. Place about 2 inches apart on greased cookie sheets. Bake until almost no indentation remains when touched, 10-12 minutes.

These are probably my all-time favorite, despite the dough being sticky as all get out when rolling them!

So there you have it. I was typing this up while the dough for these macadamia nut butter cookies was chilling, but now they are ready to bake so I'd better get going. Enjoy!

Slacker.

2009-12-08T23:20:00.002-06:00

Sorry about this, but I keep getting wrapped up (no pun intended!) in Christmas prep work lately and it has been hard to remember to come by and update my blog in a timely manner. For instance, earlier today I realized I was intending to do a poetry challenge today, but I waited WAY too long for that, my brain is mush now. So I guess I will try again with that tomorrow. My sincerest apologies.

Also, I wanted to say that if you all are interested I would be happy to share the "traditional cookie" recipes that I've been making annually for my little family. Just let me know in the comments and I will reproduce them here. I make my husband's mother's bon bon cookies and chocolate crinkles--they are very good! I'm also trying out a few new recipes this year but haven't gotten to them yet.

So, I am lame today but hopefully will redeem myself tomorrow...hang tight, sports fans!!

Hour shortage.

2009-12-05T20:36:00.003-06:00

Lately it has been hard to find the time to fit everything in that I would like to do. I am in the process now of making my family's favorite Christmas cookies, and while I have the first ones made I have to wait until 11PM tonight to bake the second kind (they have to chill in the fridge for 3 hours and I forgot that until I started making them at 7:30...drat! At least I will have a trusty helper in my dear husband. That will be kind of fun, since I am usually doing the cookies alone.

My little boy is growing up so fast. We asked him earlier where his knee was and he said, "Knee!" and pointed to it. He also marveled at the tropical fish tank at my doctor's office the other day and said "Ishhhh," with a very smooshy face. It used to be that he would learn a new word every week or so, now it seems to be more like one or two a day. It really won't be long now before he is breaking out long sentences!

Haiku News

Med student seeks tips

from her alma mater's coach,

wins $100k.

Can you say cheater?

Senator admits he tapped

girlfriend for a job.

Funny kid.

2009-12-04T21:00:00.003-06:00

I love what a personality my little boy is turning out to have. He will often approach the dog's food bowl, a no-no for him, and then shake his head and say, "No-o", then walk away from it. He had the same reaction with one of his books at bedtime tonight, prompting me to think he was tired enough to skip that one.

This evening, just before dinner, the boy had been wandering around playing with the toys that caught his interest as I talked with his father about our respective days. Finally, he planted himself between us, looked up at me, and screeched: "Uuuuuuuuuuu-puh!" Well, okay, sir! What a funny little dude.

Haiku News

Tom Brokaw involved

in fatal car crash in Bronx;

he and wife unhurt.

Despite total lack

of evidence, jury finds

Knox guilty--tragic.

Delaware U. grad

student discovers letter

Tom Jefferson sent.

A Christmas miracle!

2009-12-03T10:18:00.003-06:00

I managed to be amazed by the same phenomenon every year, it seems. I go to make one of my husband's favorite kinds of cookies, and when preparing the dough (which uses no eggs, just a lot of butter, sugar and flour) it always looks like it will never go together. Finally, I remember that the recipe has a note that says "if dry, add 1-2 tablespoons milk." I add one tablespoon of milk, fully expecting to have to add another, but five seconds later the entire bowl is filled with a completely cohesive dough. Amazing.

The other thing that I had nearly forgotten about Christmas was a child's wonder at seeing a Christmas tree. The boy and I were watching the lighting of the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree and I was watching his face when they pressed the button. His eyes got really wide, and then he said, "Woooooooow." Just priceless.

My dear friend and reader of this blog, Kristin, has published a poem in an online poetry journal. You can read her fine work here.

Haiku News

Graduation joy

cut short by a fatal bomb

in Mogadishu.

Amnesiac's brain

is dissected as I write;

you can watch it here.

Real-life "Terminal"

unfolds in Tokyo airport;

Chinese man squats there.