I pitched one of my stories from last semester before we went to Ohio for Christmas. The paper, City Limits Weekly, was interested in the idea but wanted a different kind of story. When we got back to NYC I did a lot more reporting, rewrote the story, and was told it would run on January 21. Sadly, that week was a big news week, so my story got pushed back to the 28th. I finally got around to checking out the website last night and there it was. I think it turned out pretty well. I’ve done so much work on it and it’s been so long since I started it that I have a hard time being as excited about it as my first clip
There will be a point (I hope) when I no longer feel the need to alert the world every time somebody prints one of my stories. But until then, please indulge me.
And because the last post didn’t have a picture, here is one of the munchkin, who is still making our lives bright and our nights sleepless.
Last night I was talking to my friend Allison, who lives on the other side of the country. We were friends in high school and roommates in college and I realized as we were talking how much I miss our late night conversations and our mutual excitement at the start of each new semester. I hung up the phone, energized and grateful that we are still friends and that even though we have lived thousands of miles away from each other for the past three years, we can–and do–share special moments.
It was just after I hung up that I got a message from my mom about President Hinckley’s passing. Before the message finished playing, I was calling Allison back to tell her the news. It was a bitter sweet moment, one that I had imagined to myself several times over the past few years, but one that took me by surprise nonetheless. I was sure he would be around for another conference. While I was happy for him to be home with his wife, I was sad for us who will miss his wisdom and his humor.
This morning I got an e-mail from Allison reminding me of some experiences with President Hinckley we had shared: applying for the scholarship that bore his name, attending General Conference together when he said a special prayer for our country after 9/11, watching the devotional in the Maeser Building when he announced that Cecil O. Samuelson would be the new president of Brigham Young University. It was fitting, then, that we got to share the news of his passing despite the distance between us.
I am grateful for President Hinckley’s life, his example, and his legacy. I am happy for him to be back with Marjorie. There are few other people I know who so deserve to hear the words, “You have fought a good fight, you have finished your course, you have kept the faith.”
So, one of our favorite food sites is 101cookbooks.com. The author, Heidi Swanson, has great recipes and amazing food photography. I was just checking out what was new and came across this:I don’t know anything about this Grace Bonney lady, but I am sad that she felt the need to rip us off. I think even one of the pots is the same. Well, you know what they say, “imitation is the truest form of flattery,” or something like that.
I usually put Simon in his crib while I make our bed and tidy the apartment, and sometimes while I take a quick shower. He knows how to pull himself to standing, and he likes to walk along the railing. He is contained and content, two things that rarely coincide any more. This morning I put him there while I read on our bed with the hope that he would realize how tired he was and fall asleep. It was long after his nap time. Instead of sleeping, he grabbed the comforter and started to pull himself out of the crib, but he didn’t have a good enough grip on the fabric and gave up. My curiosity was piqued. I let him grab onto my hands so I could assess the possibility of him actually pulling himself out, and with a good grip, he lifted himself over the railing and onto the bed. Still, I thought we had a few weeks until he could do it without my help. I was wrong.
This afternoon I put him in his crib again while I got my list together before we went to the store. I left my phone on our bed, out of Simon’s reach, while I went to check the recipe for dinner tonight. My phone is one of his favorite toys. (And, yes, he has managed to phone in an emergency call. Whoops.) Within just a minute or two I heard struggles from the bedroom, followed closely by somewhat muffled sounds of distress, not cries or screams, just grunts. But I hurried back in there nonetheless to find the little frog out of his crib, slipping down into the space between it and our bed, the phone clenched to his chest. I almost died. (Confession: as I was leaving the room I said, “There’s my phone, go get it.” I need to be more careful with my commands.)
The mattress is being lowered tonight.
Oh, and notice how the heating pipe has a towel wrapped around it? I pushed the crib as far from the pipe as it would go and I was watching him specifically to make sure he wouldn’t/couldn’t touch it. But he was too quick for me. Thankfully there was no damage, just a little surprise, and up went the towel. I suppose that puts me out of the running for Mother of the Year, eh? And it’s only January 18th. Sigh.
Lizzie and I each got a gift card to the iTunes store for Christmas this last year. We are pretty excited to grow our rather limited library of legal music but we aren’t all that savvy when it comes to new bands and such. We want to know what artists and songs you find indispensable.
If you were given an iTunes card, what would you buy?
My little sister had a toy dog she named Threnchie. We have no idea where the name came from. I don’t think she does either. She opened the package on Christmas morning 13 years ago (when she was about 3) and it was as if she recognized the dog from a previous life. It was Threnchie, not Frenchie, from the beginning. I’ve looked forward to my kids naming their own toys to see if they are as inventive as my sister was. Sadly, Simon is still too young to name his toys, so his dad has taken that hefty responsibility upon himself.
May I present to you Squidpig and Diaper the Turtle.Squidpig, so named because Micah is not sure if the white and gray circle is a snout or an eye, was a gift from the Crosbys. I personally think it is a snout, and not that of a pig. I’m thinking more like a bear. A bear for the bath (hence the washcloth and loop to hang it on the showerhead). But Squidpig hasn’t made it to the bathtub. Maybe s/he is afraid of water.
Diaper the Turtle was a Christmas gift from our branch Christmas party. When Simon opened it his cousin Neils said that it felt like it was made out of a diaper. Micah picked that up quick as a scurrying squirrel and we’ve been unable to shake the name. Diaper the Turtle came with markers so that the child can color him/her someday when his first impulse is no longer to put the marker in his mouth as soon as he has a good grip on it.
I’m still looking forward to Simon naming his toys himself.
One of the many wonderful things about the NYC Craigslist is that you can almost always find an apprentice hairstylist who is in need of a hair model. Micah has been encouraging me to volunteer for the position for a few months now, and I thought that while I was on break I would take advantage of the opportunity. So I went to Bumble and Bumble today and Allen cut my hair. I so very much enjoyed it. He did a razor bob and a lot of thinning so I don’t get triangle hair. And it’s supposed to be easy for me to wash and wear it this way, even with my natural wave. We’ll see how that goes after I shower tomorrow. But here’s what it looks like with Allen’s styling job. I doubt I’ll ever get my hair this smooth and straight again, but it was fun while it lasted. Hopefully my previous stylist won’t complain too much. In fact, I would prefer that he leave it alone as much as possible.
I was a senior in high school when Salt Lake City hosted the Winter Olympics. I watched the torch pass by on the high school track and got to see Apollo Anton Ohno skate from the back row of the nosebleed section of the Delta Center. But something that has stuck with more me from that time is a comment one of my teachers made after watching some of the national coverage on the news. He said something like, “It’s like they are surprised to see civilization west of the Hudson.”
I didn’t realize until then that Easterners have a bit of a superiority complex in the United States, but I have noticed it a lot more since, and especially now that I live in the East. I was surprised to hear one of my classmates who is local talk about going out into “the wilderness” to get a job before coming back to The City where the real work is to be had. It really did sound to me like he thought there wasn’t much going on outside of the Megalopolis area. Another guest speaker emphasized that “news” actually did happen in the Texas town where she started working, believe it or not. And then there the world of college football, in which many teams with great records are discounted because their “strength of schedule” is weak–all the teams they are playing are out West. Now, I don’t disagree that most of the Eastern teams are better and play stronger opponents, but I do think there is a bit of a bias towards Eastern teams.
Micah has conceded to me that, as an Easterner, he is aware of this superiority complex. So now I’m curious, do Westerners have a bias against Easterners of which I am not aware? Does anybody else have views on the issue? It is just strange to me and I don’t understand it.
With Simon’s teeth. Or lack thereof. I know this because a few days ago I had a dream that one of his top teeth started to come in. I showed Micah and Mom Heiselt and as I was showing them the tooth, it started to grow. And then the rest of his teeth started to grow in as well. And they kept growing, really fast. And then they fell out and his permanent teeth started to grow in. And they kept growing and then they fell out. My joy turned to disappointment as I realized we were going to have to get dentures for our 8 month old baby.
But the dream was only one manifestation of my obsession. We have attributed every bout of moodiness since he was 3 months old to teething. I have been searching his gums for teeth earnestly for several months now. Two weeks ago when we were at JFK waiting for our flight I was certain I saw signs of the coming ivories. And then he got a fever and was super cranky, which surely meant those little nubs were just about to bust through his gums. But I have been met only by disappointment. Until last night.
Last night Simon woke up screaming every hour (usually just one sharp scream followed by a sleepier scream until we could do something to help him). And this morning I looked at those little gums and there is certainly a white spot that looks like the tip of the proverbial iceberg. I hope to report continued progress by the end of the week.
Photo courtesy of Will’s fancy-shmancy new camera. Simon is displaying both his empty mouth and his awesome flying skills.