Building the "Gwen Ifill Tower"

Because public television needs more aliens, munitions and an elevator.

Annnnnd another reason not to leave kids alone in the bath ...

There won't be soap left for your shower.

Uncultured swine ...

... but with excellent taste in books.

Words of wisdom

What would I tell my younger self?



My awkward pre-teen self?



My newlywed self?



My pregnant self?

What would I tell her that would save her even one ounce of pain or regret?

The interwebs has been talking a lot about what sage advice we'd give our youthful selves in the hopes of maybe reducing our mistakes or merely dampening the turmoil they cause us.

Anything that, were we to have really listened, might have made a difference. Perhaps even providing a guide for weary, fearful Googlers as they make their way down the path we and generations before us traveled.

I've thought about this a lot over the years.

Thought about all the things I'd have done differently.

Of course I've grown and changed. I've learned how to listen to advice that spoke to me, and tried my best to ignore advice that wagged its finger in my face.

But I've loved and loathed so many aspects of each situation I've found myself in that I also find it hard to point to any one of them and lament … If somebody had just told me …

in this way …

so I could understand.

Life doesn't work that way. It isn't about doing the right thing the first time. It's about finding the right thing for ourselves in our own time.

Maybe we're supposed to have regrets.

One of my most painful regrets as a parent happened in the hospital, after the birth of my daughter, as my newly emptied body floated on a roller coaster of hormones and fear.

She had been with me for nearly 10 months, an active mass of fetal flesh that would change my life forever … and I was afraid to be alone with her. I sent her to the nursery every chance I got. “What if …” became the scariest proposition in my mind.

I'd done all the classes, talked to all the mothers I knew. But experience taught me the most.

Going through it. Waking around the clock. Spit-up. Crying. Dealing with the fear and uncertainty of every decision. Finding a solution after losing count of my failures.

And then having to find another solution when everything changed again.

When my son was born a few years later I was hesitant, too. Late-pregnancy tests showed a medical condition that could cause kidney damage later in life, or even be linked to Down Syndrome.

It was a frightening time filled with feelings that I hadn't done all that I could do. It was a time that I also wondered to myself: "What had I done?"

When he was born healthy but for the wonky kidney, none of it mattered. Only him.

I couldn't let him leave my side. The nurses had to come to find him for weigh-ins and tests. They had to wrestle him from my adoring gaze and serpentine arms.

Then the guilt.

The differences.

Nearly five years later I still want to have had a different first experience. I want to have made different choices.

I want to go back and give my daughter all the first-days' love I gave my son. And there's nothing I could say to myself that would change that desire. The only thing I can do is move forward and understand that this entire process of living is made up of experiences we'd either rather not have or have had differently.

By constantly looking back, though, don't we just build up a mountain of regret we must overcome?

Sometimes I think we think about what we could have done differently so often, we search for answers so exhaustively, that we forget life is a process built on missteps and failure. We understand ourselves best through experience. We trust ourselves best for having gone through it. We want to spare people something they maybe shouldn’t miss.

Instead of telling my younger self what to do differently, I will whisper to my future self: “Try to relax and enjoy what is now.”

Wearing out her welcome ...

and our supply of paper products.

Postal Service creed redux

Neither snow

nor rain

nor heat

nor gloom of night

stays these couriers

from delivering laughs on their appointed rounds.

Experimenting with volume and tone

"GET OUT OF MY LABORATORY!!!!"

"You know, scientists are very nice people. They don't use that kind of tone with their staff."

"Not Mad Scientists. They are always angry."




"I still think you should try again."

"OK, OK, OK. Could you stand back, please? I'm going to be messy."

An amazing life

Last weekend we celebrated a special event.

The 105th birthday of a man my children call great grandfather.

Born in 1907, in Kansas, Ralph Miller started his life as the son of a farmer growing watermelons, plucking turkeys from cedar trees for Thanksgiving dinner, becoming lost in a blizzard in an alfalfa field, and, on one occasion, getting his head stuck in the mud of the nearby swimming hole.

He went on to become a scientist who worked on encrypted communication during WWII. He has 49 patents under his name.

He also helped create all of this joy:

International Women's Day

I look at all the intelligent, strong, loving, imaginative, compassionate, beautiful women in my life and I always think ....

WOW. wow.

Because I know there are so many intelligent, strong, loving, imaginative, compassionate, beautiful women I have yet to meet.

The best light of all ...

is powered by books.

Snow day ...

A couple of inches of snow is all it takes.

Flakes

The district called this morning just after the bus picked up the girl and hauled her away to school. The snow wasn't even falling then, but, in their infinite wisdom (and with one to three inches expected by evening) they'd decided to cancel afternoon classes anyway.

Barely more than an inch of wet snow had fallen when the bus brought her back home. It wasn't even sticking to the roads.

The mind is one thing but a snow day is a terrible thing to waste.

One ring-y ding-y

When the phone rings all kinds of possibilities come to call.

It could be a grandparent calling to say 'hello.'

Or a friend hoping for a play date.

Of course, more than likely these days, it's a telemarketer.

*Must remember to re-up my membership in the "Do Not Call" registry.

This seed was planted years ago

Is it weird that I once looked at these ...




and thought: MMmmmm CANDY!!!


It took me this long to see them as what they really are -- compost.

If the shoe fits ...

The Boy: "These shoes don't make me run faster."

The Mom: "No ... but they'll make you jump higher. They're basketball shoes."

The Dad: (Laughing) ... "Maybe in 1963. But in 2012 they're kind of obsolete."

The Mom: "You're right, honey. Those aren't basketball sneakers anymore. They're hipster chick magnets. Even better."

Toy story ...

Even my kids' toys seem to grasp the absurdity of a panel of "Wise Men" who think family planning should essentially mean "welcoming" a child every 10 months.

Hope the babies won't be holding their breath as they wait for these brainiacs to bring gifts.

Gift of the MAGI

He bought me bread pans for Valentine's Day. You know ... because he's hoping to get me to make more of this ...



I got him a shirt that has to be washed in cold water and can't be tumble dried. You know ... because I needed a new shirt.



I guess we're even.

Dog jackets always bring out the best in people

"What do you think? ... She looks warm right? She hasn't shivered once since I put it on her."

"No, mom. She looks tortured."

"Maybe I should have gone with the blue ... or the shearling?"

"She'd still look tortured."





** For serious, though: Thanks to Sally Newhart for making me the pattern and instructions for this barely-sewn dog cape. It's a perfect fit.

Hearts that go boing ...

Last year we did our own version of this clever little craft over at inchmark, (Brooke Reynolds, btw ... truly a super talent).

This year, Annabel wanted to do that craft again, but add her own little surprise.

Pains in the ....

Had a bit of a mishap yesterday. Ittybit fell a little awkwardly while we were skating. So this morning, when she woke up still complaining of pain in the posterior, I scavenged around my studio and made her a little portable cushion ... you know ... for school.



Her response was fairly predicable: "Oh, mom, nooooooooooooo!"

Her dad's response, though, was why I married him:

"Oh, yeah ... you might has well put a cone around her neck, too."