eleven

Dear Garrett,

Can it really be that you are eleven months old already? It's hard to believe that you've been a part of my life for nearly one whole year! It honestly is getting more and more difficult to remember a time when you weren't.

You keep growing so big and I love it! Each day, it seems, you add more tricks to your repertoire: you wave "hi" and "bye-bye" by grabbing your wrist and opening and closing your fingers; you clap your hands spontaneously and when requested, and you always do it so joyfully; you and your abs of steel can pull your horizontal body into a full sit in one incredibly impressive sit-up-like motion; and with your up-turned hand and impassive look, you motion "uh-oh," "all done," "all gone," and "I don't know." You are still not crawling, but you are as wiggly as ever! You seem to have forgotten how to sit still! I think your intense curiosity will prevent you from sitting in just one place for very much longer.

I am always impressed by how happy you are! I often catch you singing and talking to yourself, and sometimes you even start laughing without being provoked. I love the smile that spreads across your face when Dad or I whisper animal sounds in your ear. I'm tickled by how much other babies -- both those in photos and those you meet in real life -- tickle you. And I think it's sweet how much you love your silky blanket; I love it when you snuggle into it each time I lay you down for sleep. While I understand your fascination with your shoes (velcro is pretty interesting), I still don't get why you think they're so delicious to chew on. You love our visits to the park because you love to be pushed high on the swings, and you love to spend sunny late afternoons with me on the front stoop blowing bubbles.

You seem to have lost an interest in being spoon-fed pureed fruits and veggies and instead you go straight for the finger foods. You love to nibble (which you find especially fun now that you can employ the use of your two bottom teeth), and you love to feed yourself. Your favorite foods, aside from sweet fruits, which I'm sure you will always love, include Cheerios, Goldfish crackers, and graham crackers. You also are eager to try new foods, a trend which I can only hope will continue somewhat into toddlerhood.

Garrett, I love you! I love it when you wrap your arms tightly around my neck and bury your head in my shoulders -- you really do give the most endearing hugs. I hope you never stop sharing those with me.

Love,
Mama

bad combination

Let's do some math, shall we?

beautiful, but hard, wooden floors
one ever-increasingly mobile little boy +
_______________________________
a large, yucky goose egg on the forehead



Poor baby.

Luckily, it seems to look worse than it feels. Either way, it's moments like this that make carpeted flooring seem like a lovely home accessory indeed.

john adams

Thanks to the generosity of our friends, Blake and I have been able to spend the last few weeks watching installments of the recent HBO miniseries, John Adams. While I was student teaching, I found a copy of the McCullough biography it was based on in my mentor teacher's library, but was only able to get through about half of it before my time in that classroom ended. I'd like to someday finish it -- especially since I have been so impressed with the movie it was based on.

I have long been in awe of our founding fathers -- inspired by their conviction, dedication, genius, and faith and can't help but be moved when I hear their stories. Though the chronicles of the American Revolution fascinate me to no end, I have found great pleasure in studying all aspects of American history. The subject thrills me so much that I deemed it as my college major, tacking on a teaching certificate as well so I could share it with others. I love my country, despite its flaws, and have immeasurable respect for those who fought to give it to me, as well as for those who continue to fight that I might keep it.

In keeping with this love for America's past, my bookshelves have, over the years, become showered with literature on the subject. I realize that not everyone finds reading non-fiction history works as enjoyable as I do, but I thought it still wouldn't hurt to list a few of my favorites here with you. After all, July 4th is, really, just around the corner, and a little brushing up on our nation's storied past isn't such a horrible idea. And so, without further delay, here is a sampling, in no particular order, of American history books that I've read and would highly recommend are worth the time it would take you to browse through them:

• George Washington: The Indispensable Man by James Thomas Flexner
• The Radicalism of the American Revolution by Gordon S. Wood
• The Great Republic: A History of America by Sir Winston Churchill
• Colonies to Nation, 1763-1789: A Documentary History of the American Revolution by Jack P. Greene
• Letters of a Nation by Andrew Carroll
• Our Sacred Honor: The Stories, Letters, Songs, Poems, Speeches, and Hymns that Gave Birth to Our Nation by William J. Bennett
• Witness to America: An Illustrated Documentary History of the United States from the Revolution to Today by Stephen Ambrose and Douglas Brinkley
• We Interrupt This Broadcast by Joe Garner
• Letters of the Century: America 1900-1999 by Lisa Grunwald and Stephen J. Adler
• A History of the American People by Paul M. Johnson
• Founding Mothers: The Women Who Raised Our Nation by Cokie Roberts
• Jefferson's America, 1760-1815 by Norman K. Risjord
• 1776 by David McCullough (I have not yet read this, but plan to soon, as I hear nothing but fabulous things about it.)

And lest you think all history books are naturally pre-disposed to be stamped as dull, here are a couple that are light-hearted and definitely not boring:

• America the Beautiful: A Pop-Up Book by Robert Sabuda
• So You Want To Be President? by Judith St. George and David Small

Because seeing history somehow completes the reading of it, I'm going to leave you with a few photos I've snapped since realizing how rich with history New York City really is:

George Washington's pew at St. Paul's Chapel

The Bible used when Washington took the oath of office

Statue of Washington outside Federal Hall, on Wall Street, where he was sworn into office and gave his first inaugural address

(By the way, if you missed the John Adams miniseries on HBO, fear not: it will be released on DVD on June 10th)

**UPDATE, 5/29**
Last night we watched the final installment of John Adams. And wow. ...Wow. You guys really need to watch this film. The closing lines, spoken by Adams and probably adapted from his personal writings, were incredibly powerful and really resonated with me (which was, I'm sure, the intent of using them as the closing lines). He said:

"Oh, posterity, you will never know how much it cost us to preserve your freedom. I hope that you will make a good use of it. If you do not, I shall repent in heaven that I ever took half the pains to preserve it."

Well said, Mr. Adams. Well said, indeed.

fishy fishy

I could use this post to tell you all about how my body decided that the holiday weekend was an ideal time to succumb to a nasty viral infection, but because my recovery is in no way dependent on my sharing with you all the phlegmy, miserable details, I think I'll spare you. Let's focus on the positive instead, shall we?

Yesterday we headed down to Coney Island to visit the New York Aquarium. From the mother-and-son walrus pair to the shark tank to the eerie blobs of jellyfish, I think it's safe to conclude that our excursion was pretty fabulous. Garrett was in a great mood and was appropriately fascinated by all the sea wonders suddenly at his fingertips. And because we invested in a year-long membership to the New York Wildlife Conservation Society, we'll be able to go back to the aquarium, as well as to any and all of the city's zoos, anytime we want for free. (Anyone want to join Garrett and I on an outing to the Bronx Zoo? So long as Blake's not with us, I can get a guest in for free.)

better than big

We stepped into F.A.O. Schwarz again today and just in time to watch a concert at the Big Piano. Sure, they played the standard "Chopsticks" and "Heart and Soul," and those were pretty great. But then they pulled out the big guns and favored us with these classical numbers:

"The Blue Danube"

"Rondo Alla Turca"

Beat that, Tom Hanks.

if you're happy and you know it

Clap your hands!

Garrett's been soclose to clapping his hands for months now and just the other day they came together for the first time. He (and I) couldn't be more pleased. Sometimes I'll catch him joyfully clapping while his face beams with pride (and a healthy dose of surprise) at his new ability. It's hilarious.

Also, Garrett is still not crawling, but to compensate, he has developed abs of steel. Where other kids would use their ability to roll over to bring themselves from a horizontal position into a full sit, Garrett will just pull himself up. One minute he'll be lying on his back, and the next, enticed by some object he desperately needs to have right that second, he'll do a movement akin to a sit-up to pull himself into a full sit. It's pretty crazy to watch. Crazy, and yet incredibly impressive.

first visitors of the summer

I woke up Saturday morning to an email from my old roommate and good friend, Heather. She and her husband of three weeks, Royce, had time to kill before a summer internship started and standby plane tickets and would it be all right if they came to see us in New York? Of course it was all right! So they boarded a plane at noon and by evening they were knocking on our apartment door.

We've spent the last few days whetting their palates to an insider's view of the city, and I like to think that they've enjoyed themselves, though I suppose we won't know for sure until they write up the full report on their blog. We said goodbye this morning as they made their way back into Manhattan to poke their noses into a few museums before heading to the airport. It was fun to have them, and the last-minuteness of the visit added a welcome thrill to our otherwise pretty routine days. Do come and see us again sometime, you two!

cookie monster

Garrett ate his peas and carrots, so I let him have a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie.





I'm pretty sure he loved it.

sunday music

Yesterday, while we were in Manhattan, we were lured into St. Paul's Chapel by the most beautiful rehearsal I've ever listened to. I wish you could have been there to hear it, too, because the 30 seconds of it that I was able to capture on my camera doesn't nearly do the live performance justice.

i hope you took your dramamine this morning

Because you are about to witness a decent dose of boat pictures and I don't want anyone to, you know, on my nice, clean blog.

Today we visited the South Street Seaport. Here are a few photographic highlights:

and the winner is...

The powers that be have rolled the dice and the lucky winner of my earring giveaway is....

MommyOfThree!

Congratulations! Email me your address and I'll get your new jewelry in the mail to you.

Yes, I suppose I could have just gone out and gotten my ears pierced so that I could dangle these puppies from my own lobes, but honestly, pierced ears just don't interest me. I don't accessorize much anyway and deep down I irrationally fear that I'll end up with an infection like the time Theo did when he let Cockroach's sister pierce his ear. Besides, hosting a giveaway was quite fun. Maybe I'll have to do it again sometime.

A few of you asked me to give a tutorial on how to make these earrings. But, despite the fact that I can apparently make them, I'm no good at giving understandable instructions. However, at the activity, I was given a handout which cleanly outlined the steps to make them. I've scanned it into my computer and if you want to see a copy, email me and I'll forward it on.

office memos

To: The Dunder Mifflin staff, Scranton Branch
cc: NBC
RE: Last night's season finale
From: Lindsay


Toby: You will be missed (though apparently not by Michael). Best of luck in Costa Rica. If you leave a forwarding address, maybe Pam will send you a wedding announcement - if Jim ever proposes!

Holly: Michael has a crush on you. So does Kevin. But Michael needs a nice girl. I say give him a shot.

Ryan: White collar crime?! What the heck were you thinking?!?! Also, the scruff makes you look like a drug addict. Oh wait...you are.

Mr. Andrew Bernard: I have a MAJOR bone to pick with you. It was so not okay for you to steal Jim's thunder. Also, Angela? She doesn't even like you. (I actually wonder if she likes anyone.) But bahhh! you completely thwarted what would have been the ideal Office episode!

Jim: I know your plans were royally foiled by Andy, but you still could have asked her. The moment would have still been a special one. And now, if past episodes have taught me anything, I'll have to wait until Christmas for you to make your move.

Pam: He was! He was! He was going to ask you last night! Hang on, Pam, hang on! He still wants to ask you!

Phyllis(/Jim): Great party.

Dwight and Angela: There are no words.

Michael: Don't go back to Jan! Her baby is not your baby. She did a cruel thing to you and doesn't deserve you. (I mean, you may be an idiot, but deep down you're a nice guy.) Take Holly! She's a nice girl. She does Yoda impressions, just like you. You guys could totally hit it off. But if not Holly, at least don't go back to Jan!


---

Readers: Today's your last chance to enter my earring giveaway!

swimsuit summer

So who told the calendar it was May already? Come on, I know it must have been one of you. Well, thank you to whoever did it because yippeeeee!!! summer is upon us!

Blake and I have lately been penciling in all sorts of fun summertime gigs. We've purchased plane tickets to the Pacific Northwest for a week-long family reunion on the Oregon Coast. My two sisters have purchased plane tickets to come spend a week with us in the Big Apple. We're going to hop on a train once, twice, or maybe even three times for weekend getaways with family in the Massachusetts Berkshires. And of course we will be doing lots of exploring around the city. I am absolutely itchy with excitement!

Because it seemed a fitting celebratory act, I bought the first swimsuit to be added to my wardrobe since I was 14. (Are you appalled? Because I think maybe you should be.) Please take note that because I can't see, swimming is not very fun for me, so I don't go very often. But Garrett has new swim trunks and if he's ever going to make good use of them, it'd probably be a good idea if I was in the water with him, don't you think? Besides, a lot of what's been penciled in for this summer revolves around excursions to the beach. And even though yes, my old suit still fit, it had definitely seen better days.

I searched high and low for my perfect new swimsuit and ultimately ordered this one, in French Blue, from L. L. Bean. It's nothing fancy, but it covers me up and had a frame-worthy price tag attached to it. It's actually a size smaller than the one it replaced, which this post-baby body certainly won't complain about. I tell you what: it's amazing what living with a baby and without a car in New York City will do to your waistline.

And now, even though I'm blind as a bat, I'm looking for an excuse to wear it. Anyone interested in an excursion to Coney Island?


---
Don't forget to enter my earring giveway! You have until midnight tomorrow.
Also, don't forget to watch The Office tonight. It's the season finale (and if Jim doesn't propose to Pam in this episode, so help me, next season will be dead to me).

to a shattered lid

The Pretty Blue Dish. It was a wedding gift. A glossy, French blue, ceramic serving dish with a fitted lid. I didn't use it too often. It was too dear, and I was too afraid I'd break it.

But I used it last week. My beautiful Greek salad was too lovely not to be served in the Pretty Blue Dish. The red of the chopped tomatoes, purple of the red onions, and bright green of the cucumber only enhanced the deep blue hue of the dish. It was a delicious salad and by Saturday evening it had all been eaten. The Pretty Blue Dish awaited washing on the kitchen counter near the sink.

I'm not exactly sure how it happened. The counter was crowded, full of dirty dishes. Something must have been nudged the wrong way. Maybe I tried too hard to add one more cup to the stack. But when I heard the loud crash, I knew what I'd lost. Only glossy, French blue ceramic bouncing onto a tiled kitchen floor shatters in such a piercing way.

I cried. Before I could stop myself, I slapped the counter, then covered my face. Blake rushed to the scene, the look of panic on his face painted there by the sound of the crash quickly washing to disappointment as he realized what I'd lost. Sure, it was only the lid; the rest of the dish was still safely on the counter. But the Pretty Blue Dish would never again be complete. The lid which so daintily adorned its top half was beyond repair.

Why is it that only my pretty things get broken? Why couldn't the plain, white, restaurant-style plate the lid had been stacked next to have been the item to meet its splintered fate? A drab white plate doesn't sparkle like the lid to a pretty, blue dish does.

Blake swept. I, in my bare feet, was commanded to stay where I was now sitting at the kitchen table. I considered the situation. The lid was gone, but I still had the rest of the dish - the most important half of the dish. My dish would be okay; I would be okay. It had been heavy to move and awkward to store anyway, and besides, I don't like clutter.

I'm not sure, though, if the lid to my Pretty Blue Dish can be counted as clutter.

No matter. There's nothing to be done. I stopped crying, took a deep breath. Blake finished sweeping, and I resumed my dish-washing stance, this time with one less dish to wash.


---
Don't forget to enter my earring giveway! You have until midnight this Friday.

we're taking it up a notch, butter bean

After learning from the best at an Enrichment activity last Saturday on how to make beaded earrings, I made three pair of my own. Which is great, except for one tiny problem: I don't have my ears pierced. (Are you shocked? Because I think maybe you should be.)

So, what to do with three pair of incredibly chic earrings and no pierced ears? Why, host a blog giveaway, of course! After all, it's what all the cool bloggers do, and really, what is blogging if not one giant online popularity contest? So I'm raising the stakes and taking things up a notch.

One lucky winner will receive all three pairs of my handmade earrings. If you want these lovelies to adorn your ears, just sing my praises in the form of a comment on this post. (Actually, any comment will do, but if you want to say nice things, I certainly won't stop you.)

Don't have your ears pierced? Not a problem! Holey lobes are not a requirement to win. In fact, these puppies would make a great gift for someone special, don't you think? So what are you waiting for? Leave a comment on this post and add your name to the selection pool! The more the merrier!


The Fine Print:
- You have until 12:00 AM on Friday, May 16th to enter.
- I will randomly select and announce a winner this weekend.
- Please, only one entry per person.
- Also, anonymous entries will be ignored.
- And - gold stars to anyone who knows where my post title was stolen - excuse me, borrowed - from.

c'est la vie

Garrett has decided to take a brief vacation from his ability to wave "hi" and "bye-bye." Luckily, though, adorable baby hand gestures have not been abandoned all together. This is what Garrett does whenever someone says "all gone" or "uh oh!"




It's never gestured in panic; rather, to him it appears to mean something more along the lines of "c'est la vie." At any rate, sippy cups dropped from his high chair, gobbled up Cheerios, and missing toys have never been so much fun to deal with.

queen for a day

Not only did Blake cook me breakfast, dinner, AND chocolate fondue yesterday for Mother's Day, HE ALSO did the dishes. He showered me with sincere compliments about my developing talent to cook tasty meals, which went hand-in-hand quite nicely with the lovely apron he bought me. Garrett gave his mama the most divine Mother's Day Nap imaginable: he fell asleep on our bus ride home from church (about 1:15), made a good transfer from my arms to his crib, and didn't wake up until 4:00. I, of course, was quick to take advantage of his passed out state and deeply slept the afternoon away myself. It was heavenly.

I'm already imagining it difficult to rival this royal treatment next month for Father's Day.

garden

On the occasion of my first Mother's Day
(last year not fully counting because he was still inside me).

When you were planted
in my belly,
in my heart,
I showered you
with more love
than I knew I had.
Your roots spread
and sprouted
tiny toes
which tickled me
inside and out.
And with the harvest
your mother was born.

I thrive on you.
Your love,
your need,
for me -
the way you wrap your arms
around my neck and
rest your head on
my shoulders -
keeps my petals
warm and soft.
Every smile,
giggle and grin,
every burst of
uncontrollable, ticklish laughter,
keeps my blossoms vibrant.
And though tears and illness
cause a part of me to
sadly wilt,
the way you bounce back
with such forceful happiness
sparks the strong in me
and I recover too.

You grow
and I grow.
You blossom
and I blossom.
I am the gardener
and you are my garden.
(Or do I have that
backwards?)
I created you
and you created me.
You are my child
and I am your mother.

hello, goodbye

Garrett has a new trick. After a week or so spent wiggling my fingers at him in greeting and parting, he now also waves hello and goodbye:

Don't be fooled -- just because it appears that he is waving to himself, don't think he doesn't love you, too. He does. (I'm sure of it.) Oh, and I love how it takes him two hands to do this gesture: one to wave, and one to hold his wrist.

According to this video, Garrett also:

• is easily fascinated by something on the ceiling;
• likes to squint his eyes and scrunch up his face for fun;
• covers his mouth when he coughs; and
  
• if you look carefully, is showing off his newly-sprouted two bottom teeth.

Now if he'd only learn to crawl...

dough girl

If there's one thing I can say about the women of my old ward in Muncie, it's that dang, they know their way around a kitchen! So you can imagine my excitement when it was announced that they were going to compile a Relief Society cookbook. The project began just as we were packing up for our move to the Big Apple, but our exit from the ward didn't keep me from requesting a copy to be mailed to my new address. (It also didn't keep me from sneaking a few of my own favorite recipes in...I had to leave my legacy somehow.) The Women of Muncie 1 Bring It To the Table arrived a few months ago, and recently I have been devouring my way through the breads section.

On Saturday morning I made Kimberlie's Lemon Muffins. They were surprisingly simple to make and deliciously divine to dig into. Because I love you all (and because since it was published in the ward cookbook, I'm pretty sure it's now public domain...or something), I'm going to divulge to you what should be a top secret recipe:

Lemon Muffins

1 3/4 cups flour
3/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp grated lemon peel
1 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 (8 oz) carton lemon yogurt
6 tbsp butter, melted
1 egg
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice

Combine dry ingredients. Whisk wet ingredients and add to dry; stir until barely combined. Spoon into greased muffin tins and bake for 20 minutes at 375. To make the glaze, mix peel and juice from one lemon with enough powdered sugar to make a light glaze. Poke muffins with a fork and pour mixture on top while they are still hot.

(I wasn't sure if I was supposed to do this, but I added a bit of fresh lemon juice and peel to the actual muffin dough...I figured it couldn't hurt. So half of the juice/peel from my lemon went into the muffins, and the other half was used to create the glaze.)

Mmmm...sweet lemony goodness. Seriously, I'm so tempted to go stock up on lemons and lemon yogurt so that I can bake these puppies till they're coming out my ears!

*

Can you believe that until yesterday I'd never baked bread? It's true. I've made lots of other yeast-requiring things in the kitchen, but there's always been something keeping me from making an actual loaf of bread. So when, a few pages beyond the muffin recipe, I found my friend, Sarah's, do-able looking recipe for French Peasant Bread, I decided to give it a shot:

French Peasant Bread

1 pkg dry yeast (2 1/4 tsp)
2 cups warm water
1 tbsp sugar
2 tsp salt
4 cups flour
oil
cornmeal
melted butter

Place yeast, water, sugar, and salt in a warm bowl. Stir until dissolved. Add flour and stir until blended. DO NOT KNEAD. Cover and let rise 1 hour (until doubled). Flour hands well and remove dough from bowl. Shape into 2 rounds and place on a greased cookie sheet that has been sprinkled with cornmeal. Cover with a towel and let rise for 1 more hour. Brush with melted butter. Bake at 425 for 10 minutes and then reduce heat to 375 and bake for 15-20 minutes more. Brush again with melted butter.

It turned out great! I was so proud of myself, especially when Blake came home from work and tried a piece, proclaiming it was fantastic. This recipe's a keeper, for sure.

*

I must be a real wimp in the kitchen. Not only did I JUST bake bread for the first time, but I also JUST made my own from-scratch pie crust. Normally I flake out and buy the refrigerated Pillsbury crusts, but I had a new quiche I wanted to try without having to fork over my next-born child for the convenience and price of the ready-made dough. I'm sure you've all made your own pie crusts before, so I'll spare you my sharing of the recipe (which is actually Betty Crocker's anyway). I will, however, tell you how to make the most amazing quiche:

Tomato and Basil Quiche

1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, sliced
2 tomatoes, peeled and sliced
2 tbsp flour
2 tsp dried basil
3 eggs, beaten
1/2 cup milk
1/2 tsp salt and pepper, to taste
1 9" unbaked deep dish pie crust
1 1/2 cups shredded Colby-Monterey Jack cheese, divided

Preheat oven to 400. Bake pie shell in preheated oven for 8 minutes. Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Saute onion until soft; remove from skillet. Sprinkle tomato slices with flour and basil, then saute 1 minute on each side. In a small bowl, whisk together eggs and milk. Season with salt and pepper. Spread 1 cup shredded cheese in the bottom of the pie crust. Layer onions over cheese and top with tomatoes. Cover with egg mixture; sprinkle with the remaining 1/2 cup of cheese. Bake in preheated oven for 10 minutes. Reduce heat to 350 and bake for 15-20 minutes, or until filling is puffed and golden brown. Serve warm.

Talk about a gourmet meal! And so long as you've got some organized wits about you in the kitchen, it's not too difficult to make.

*

My kitchen is now all toasty warm and smelling like the bakery down the block. Which on the one hand is fabulous...I love the smell of fresh-baked goods. But it's also nearly 80 degrees outside. Hopefully my next burst of bread-making energy comes when the weather's a little cooler.

reading and writing

Why is it that the last few deliciously thrilling and climatic pages of a book -- the pages I'm usually so swept up in and desperate to get through -- are always the most difficult to read? Like, for example, the time back in high school when I was plowing through Gone with the Wind and had only 20 pages left to go and 5 minutes to finish them, stuff my dinner into my mouth, and head off to the mutual activity I was in charge of. I wanted to savor Rhett Butler's spurning of Scarlett, but ultimately decided to sacrifice the savoring in favor of being able to tell all of my friends at the church that I had just finished a book over 1000 pages long.

Or the first time I grit my teeth and clenched my knuckles so fiercely they turned white as I stormed through the murder trial and the subsequent visit to the doctor in town at the end of Rebecca -- only to be interrupted by the clock telling me I had to get to work.

Or tonight, as I tried to wrap my fingers around the final pages of Emily of New Moon, only to have to pause just as Emily, in her measles-induced delirium, is about to settle once and for all the true fate of her best friend's mother, because Garrett needed his dinner...and then his bath...and then some playtime...and then a new diaper...

Garrett's in bed now for the night, and I just finished Emily. And I loved it.

In my post-reading search online for a quote from the story I quite enjoyed, but of course forgot to write down after I read it*, I came across this fabulous piece from the New York Times titled "Stories for Girls About Girls Who Write Stories." (Seriously, if literary heroines with a flair for the literary themselves is something you enjoy, it's definitely worth your time and energy to click the link and read the article.)

And now I not only want to finish the Emily trilogy, but I want to re-read Anne of Green Gables (as well as give the rest of that series a second try), Little Women, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, the Betsy-Tacy series, Harriet the Spy, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. I want to get sucked again into their lives and their stories. I want to commiserate with them the challenges of loving -- and desperately needing -- to write. I want to be reminded again of how much I love words and sentences and punctuation and describing things. I want to know once more that I'm not alone in succumbing to inspirational "flash"-like "writing fits" that take days to come out of once I start spilling the guts of my brain out on paper.

This writing -- and reading -- business... I tell you, it's dizzying! Painfully, deliciously dizzying.


*I found the quote: "There is a destiny which shapes the ends of young misses who are born with the itch for writing tingling in their baby fingertips."

exploring

While Blake and I enjoy scouting out the untamed wilds of New York City, Garrett's explorations are still at a gentler level. Childhood is a beautiful thing in that everything is endlessly fascinating -- new and interesting and wonderful. Everything. Even a spoon, which is what Garrett inspected during his dinner the other night:

He spent about 10 minutes examining every aspect of that spoon, and I like to think that he was satisfied with what he uncovered.

However, even at his tender age, there are some things he's pretty much got figured out. Cheerios, for example. He knows all about Cheerios.

Sometimes I think that, if I let him, he'd eat his weight in Cheerios.

And speaking of childhood mastery, Garrett met a major milestone two nights ago: he rolled over from his back to his front. Yeah, yeah, so this comes like six months too late, but better too late than never at all, right? But it gets better: once on his tummy, I tickled his thighs in just the right place and he tucked them under and pulled himself into a crawling position. And then -- and then -- he took a step.* Of course, immediately thereafter he face-planted into the floor, but it's a start. Go, Garrett, go!

*Please spare me the comments of how miserable a crawling baby will make my life. I already know that having one in my house will utterly overturn the life I know now, but you know what? I'm still excited. The older he gets and the longer I'm a mother, the more I realize that every stage of childhood has its challenges. Crawling might mean a messier house and fingers in electrical sockets, but I consider that a welcome change to the angry frustration he frequently vents over his inability to get where he wants to.

things to love

Flower petal bowls

First of all, I just need to say that Anthropologie ranks high on my list of Coolest Stores Ever. I could spend a fortune in there, but didn't have to with these beautifully delicate little bowls. They were only $2 each. I don't know what exactly I'll do with them yet (besides look lovingly at them), but I'm sure I'll come up with something stunning.

Bird notecards

I also found these at Anthropologie and I love them. Aren't they awesome? Charley Harper is the artist, but I think that, aside from the letters I'll write on them, I can turn them into a bit of my own original art. Can't you just see these birds framed and flying on the wall? Because I can.

Wyler's Authentic Italian Ices

These were on sale this week at Rite Aid and, in the hopes that my eating popsicles would bring back the summer temperatures we were so favored with last week, I bought a box. After Blake and I both tried one, he sent me back to the store to stock up on more. They're like Otter Pops, only because they're made with real fruit juice (granted, only 5%), they are a million times better. They come in four flavors: orange creme, kiwi watermelon, raspberry, and lemon, and if you're not careful, eating one might just send you right up to heaven.

What are you currently loving?

four eyes

I failed my first eye exam near the end of my second grade year and was fitted for my first pair of glasses shortly after school let out. That first pair of frames were clear-colored plastic with just a hint of light blue smeared in and they were huge. Because they ate up half of my face, they won't get recorded in the books as the most flattering glasses I've ever worn, but they opened up a whole new world for me, one filled with leafy trees and other details I'd been missing out on.

Since that time I have worn a variety of frames, large and small, metal and plastic. I also spent about 10 years primarily wearing contact lenses. In the last few years, however, those have become so painful and unbearably difficult to wear that, though I prefer my face uncluttered, I've decided that I enjoy comfortable eyes more. About two and a half years ago, someone (read: Blake) convinced me to turn trendy by sporting dark, plastic frames. It was fun to walk around wearing glasses that screamed, "Hey, everybody, I'm as blind as a bat!" (no, really, it was), but I'm definitely ready now to have my face back.

Based on the recommendation of one of Blake's co-workers, we got our vision checked last Saturday at Moscot, a New York City original which, based on the pictures plastered throughout the store, might as well be known as The Optical Where Johnny Depp Finds His Frames. After failing yet another eye exam, I scoped out my options and went for the best compromise I could find between wearing glasses and wearing contacts. I went rimless:


What do you think? Or can you not see them?

Uh huh...that's what I thought.

I think they're fantastic.