Iridesce Sent

2011-03-27T20:14:00.000-07:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, March 2011::

Dear Sagan,

I can’t believe this is possible, but everyone around you is even more in love with you than they were last month! I KNOW! Eleven months. 11/12 of a year. Dang.

We all love that we can’t count the number of times you’ve gone camping. The proximity of Cedar Hill State Park works in your favor, because when you get to a campsite, the fire, the leaves, and the birds keeps you fascinated for hours. As Gran says, “Ah, there. Now he’s finally touched every leaf and blade of grass at this campsite. And put it in his mouth.” Nana and Grandpa Karl came to visit, too, and they loved watching you have a good time.

In fact, you love the great outdoors no matter where you are. If you’re fussy, I know that I need merely take you outside, and you’ll simmer down immediately.

At Gran and Pitter’s, the deck is your favorite play place. You make the deck your own, prompting the installation of lattice on the railing so that we don’t have to spot you the whole time.

Josh had his offending testicle taken out, and the day he had the surgery, you went over to your friend (and second cousin) Kassidy’s house. Dena, Dianne, and Clint were charmed by your quick crawl, your snaky hands, and your affectionate backwards roll thing. You escaped from a diaper change, and Kassidy was grossed out when you “spread your naked all over [her] dolls.” Keepin’ it classy, there, Sagan.

You’re eating “real people food” even more, now, and while you take your time eating (a trait you get from your maternal grandfather, who is the slowest eater EVER), you’ve become a champ. Chicken, pasta, biscuits, and rice make you smile. You lost your craving for puffs (unless they’re the ones you’ve sadly discarded under the couch, those are delicious!), instead preferring Multigrain Cheerios or Club Crackers. I suspect you now look down your nose at anything touted as “dissolves easily.” I gave you some Honey Nut Cheerios and Honey Grahams for about a week, but then I freaked out, remembering that honey is a no-no for babies until they’re a year old. Fortunately, the Internet came to my guilt’s rescue, and assured me that only raw honey was a problem.

Unfortunately, you’ve acquired the ability to throw stuff, and this has an effect on your eating time; I am now less of a feeder and more of a fetcher of things from the floor when you’re in your booster seat. Usually, you throw backwards, which confuses you. I’m also letting your nursery neatness go to pot. These developments are causally linked.

You stopped taking your morning nap, too. You used to sleep for about 45 minutes at around 10AM and 2PM. Now, we’re down to an hour at around noon. Your bedtime is slightly earlier, but it’s little consolation.

You still love your baths:

I showed you how a brush is used, and you’ll happily take the baby brush from me and “brush” the back of your hair. You’ll also brush your hair with almost any object. A shoe. A stuffed animal. A board book. Your sippy cup. Awesome.

Your mobility has shifted, now, from crawling (low, horizontal vectors) to climbing (high, vertical vectors). Somewhere in there you’ve figured out how to stand and, even better, to stand up without any support to get you up (March 12)!

Pretty soon thereafter, you progressed to taking steps. You surprised Gran, Dad, and me one day (March 14); I set you down after coming inside, and you stayed standing and started taking a few tentative steps, and you’ve continued that slow discovery since. Good thing your diaper provides good padding! Though you rarely fall; you smoothly control your transition to your butt or knees.

This ability to walk (or crawl fast, which is your usual preference) lends you a new
independence, and you have little problem wandering into the next room while we’re hanging out somewhere. You’re content to entertain yourself, usually emptying containers or messing with our messes.

We know to check in on you, especially when you’re quiet because a) you might’ve choked or b) you might’ve found something really expensive to destroy. I’m glad neither has happened yet.

You’re still really into music, moving your body and headbanging to just about anything with a rhythm. You’ll clap when you hear things you like (or, I guess, when you’re happy to be finished with something like a diaper change). We went to Floor & Decor one day for ideas about designing the bathroom, and you surprised the heck out of me when you started banging your head along with the song playing on the overhead speakers: it was the one Beavis and Butt-head would “duh-duh-duh-DUH-duh-duh-DEH-duh...” to. Ask your Uncle Josh and your dad about who Beavis and Butt-head were.

Your personality seeps from your every move. You’re ready to show delight at almost anything. For a while, you showed happiness by headbanging, but I think you ended it when you got happy about something in the bathtub and hit your mouth on the porcelain side of the tub. Ow! You’re always inviting mom and dad—or anyone else around—to share in the fun. You’ll start hooting at something you’ve discovered, and you’ll turn around and smile to make sure we’re watching. I can feel you saying, “Did you just see that?!? I’m AWESOME!” And you love soft things; you’ll hug and nuzzle them, like your Einstein doll, Uncle Josh’s little Yoda, or cuddly blankets.

You imitate us more every day. For about a week, any time I made a gross face and said, “Pshewy!” you’d make a disgusted raspberry: “Plblblblbt!”

And you say words now! Your jabbering in the car one day (March 1, to be exact!) led to “ma-ma,” and soon after that, “da-da.” “Josh,” even, followed soon thereafter. And it becomes clearer every day that you’ve assigned meaning to them. You say “da” pretty much only when your dad’s around, and “Josh” spontaneously sprang from your when FaceTimeing with Uncle Josh. I don’t know if you get that I’m “ma-ma” yet. But that’s okay.

You might be able to say other words, too, though Dad and I think we might be projecting expectations a bit too much. I swear we heard you say “Up!” one day when you wanted me to pick you up. I think you may have said “Yes” and “Yeah,” in answers to questions. And I’m pretty sure you said “algebra” the other day. Yep, you’re our kid.

You’re interacting with the world, and I can now see that you’re processing it in more complex ways. We’re still showing you signs for words, like “pig” for which you point to your nose, and “frog” where you flick your tongue. It’s hard to do, mostly because I rarely have one hand – let alone both hands - free when we’re playing, eating, or exploring.

However, one night a few days ago, as you ate your dinner, you held your hand up toward the Sputnik lamp in the dining room and opened and closed your hand, signing the word “light.” And I just started crying, right there, about to put a spoon of peas in your mouth. “That’s right, Sagan! Light!” And I started going nuts, making the sign and saying “Light!!!” and gushing and clapping and crying.

You’ve been communicating since the day you were born. You cried for food or for help. You started smiling and laughing, sharing your happiness with us. And now. Now you’ve clearly made the connection that certain symbols (like signs and words) represent objects or ideas. And you use those symbols! This conceptual jump, this complex ability in you, has meant more to me as a mother than any crawl, roll, or step. Because it means you’ve started understanding. And I can’t wait to start having conversations with you, whether they’re spoken or signed.

I know you’ll have some fascinating things to say.

Love,
Mom

Likes: Pizza, ice cream, taking off my headband, hugs, hooting and pointing at things
Dislikes: Having the Sonicare toothbrush taken from you, rough crawling surfaces, your morning nap, oranges
Things you can do: Wave hello and bye-bye, walk 5 steps, throw objects

2011-02-27T13:27:00.000-08:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, February 2011::

Dear Sagan,

You’re making it harder and harder to write these letters. Primarily, you’ve become so much more fun, so much more interesting, that I don’t want to rip myself away from you – even to let you play by yourself in your crib! – to spend time writing. Also, you’re so much more “into” (and I mean that figuratively and literally) what I’m doing during the day that your desire to “help” means I need to do things like laundry and dishes while you’re napping. And after you go to bed? I’m bushed, and I just want to go to bed.

Early this month, you stayed with Pitter and Gran for a whole weekend while Dad and I went to Austin. He had a conference to go to, and I had an entire day of nothing. I had coffee, played around online, napped, watched cable, and I never had you far from my thoughts. Pitter even took over Daily Sagan duties for me, showing off the amazing “play board” Gran made for you.

We had some snow, several times, and you weren't particularly into it. We didn't get photos of you outdoors, but please let this "after" photo suffice:

Josh moved out of his apartment to live with Pitter and Gran while he gets chemo for his testicular cancer, and he seems to be responding all right. His cancer, more importantly, is dying, based on blood tests, so we’re very glad about that. The day he moved out, he came along and watched you while we cleaned, and you exhausted him! But, to use his exact words, “I always save enough energy to pick you up, Sagan.” You are his best treatment; even when he’s tired and hurting from chemo, you can unfailingly make him smile.

Every day, your fantastic peals of laughter come to me, either from your bath, where you and dad splash, explore facets of the tub spigot, sing, and puzzle over the buoyant properties of different items, or from your high chair when you giggle about how I steal your puffs from you. You love peek-a-boo, and tickling still gets you every time. There’s this cusp of exhaustion you experience at around 8:00 PM every night, and you balance between finding everything either hilarious or tragic. The quivering lip coupled with the laugh... Greatness.

We’ve started signing with you, and the ones I find myself showing you most often are “dog,” “star,” “light,” and “more.” The day you sign back to me will be more fulfilling than a classroom of passing TAKS scores!

Your musical interest has grown; you “sing” along to music in the car or as you’re going to sleep, and you even try to match the wail of sirens as they pass by the house (which, on Westmoreland, is frequent)! You’re even more in love with your music table and your walker, and every time your walker’s songs come on, you look over to me and bob your head with me. And clapping! You’ve become a clapper! It’s the best, cutest thing; as you hear music, or are particularly delighted by something, you’ll clap! Yay!

You get fascinated by smiling faces. One day, your Einstein t-shirt faked you out and you started trying to talk and giggle to him:

By far, your favorite thing is being outside. When you get fussy, I only need to take you outside and plunk you down in the grass, and you’ll be in heaven for hours. The weather’s getting perfect for this, and whether it’s the park, the yard, camping, or Pitter and Gran’s patio, you’re golden.

One day, after I changed your diaper and you hung out on your changing table (with me at your side, because dang, boy, you’ll be trying to climb off that thing in no time!), your dad came up, and he and I put our arms around each other and kissed. You watched, smiling, and when we looked at you, you smacked your lips. You knew we were kissing, and you showed us.

You’ve become such a curious, delightable, and affectionate kid. I continue to not know whether your traits are “baby” or specifically “Sagan.” When you’re near people you love, you either hit them (choruses of “Gentle, Sagan, gentle!” quickly follow) or nudge your head against them. When you so clearly show love back, when you nuzzle your head against me, that ember of love I have for you, the one that’s with me even when we’re apart, explodes into a shower of light. And I’m so pleased, too, when you do the same to other people, knowing that you have so much love around you and within you. Seeing others love you is the greatest empathy ever.

You are my favorite person in the world.

Love,
Mom

Dislikes: having your face wiped after a meal, waking up alone, being sleepy
Likes: Club crackers, yogurt, tortillas, napping on the big pillow in the living room, pointing at stuff, emptying containers of all contents,
Things you can do: crawl like lightning, grip a puff and shove it in your mouth if you initially miss, point to things, offer food to others

2011-01-27T19:21:00.000-08:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, January 2011::

Dear Sagan,

It’s hard for me to believe that everything that’s happened this month actually happened. From two days after Christmas... to now?!? Wow. It’s been a month more characterized by developments in the world instead of in you.

We went to the Marshalls’ timeshare condo in Conroe for New Year’s, and it was grand. You had the best time crawling around, cruising the tall coffee table and dining chairs, and I loved being able to exhale a little bit. See, it being simply a furnished condo, there was very little “stuff” sitting around. No DVDs for you to tump over. No cords for you to try to chew. No bric-a-brac for you to throw. It was a marvelously childproofed place!

We “did Christmas” with Nana Judy, Grandpa Karl, Uncle Blake, and your great-grandparents; you made everyone smile when, as we were saying goodbye, you reached for Great-Grandpa Bill for an extra hug.

New Year’s Day, we visited the Hemmes, who have a baby girl about three months older than you. You were so friendly! Of course, you demonstrate affection by grabbing your friends’ noses, so Jade wasn’t the biggest fan of your advances. But you guys shared toys, even handing them to each other, and it made me excited to see you interact more with babies your age.

As we left, you actually waved “bye-bye” (for the first time!) to your new friend. You got to hang out with Shelby, another dog whom you absolutely adore:

You’re cruising like a champ, reaching out to move from one object to another (the couch, your music table, Mommy, and the wall are your favorite “cruise anchors”). At last, you’re able to hold your bottle yourself, but whether you want to remains an issue. You’ve carried your bottle as you crawled by holding the nipple in your mouth, which was the cutest thing ever. Just recently, Pitter and Gran noticed you could click your tongue – or maybe it’s your whole mouth, but it’s totally cute, too. Here’s a video of you waving “hi” and showing off your click:

You’re also picking up clapping, and the “roll-‘em-up” portion of “Patty Cake.” Nice motor skills, kiddo!

I could do without – as could anyone who’s changed you this month – your motor development vis a vis ROLLING OVER WHILE GETTING YOUR DIAPER CHANGED. We hate it. Especially when your diaper’s poopy. So please. We know your core muscles are strong. You should just stop now, ‘kay?

You can also play with your toys, for minutes on end. This is a big deal! Sometimes, you’re even content to play alone, with no one else in your sight. It’s adorable to hear you randomly giggle at a toy, too; you’re able to literally entertain yourself. It’s great. But you run so hot and cold... One minute, you’ll be fussing because we left the room. The next, you’ll crawl out of the room, stop to turn around, notice we’re following you, then let out a huge cry of abandon as you hightail it out of the room even faster.

Your new favorite food is puffs. You can’t get enough of them. Banana, mango, “green,” sweet potato, apple... they’re all fun to eat (and find under the couch three days later). Your food repertoire has expanded to include cheese, pork, and several other fruits and vegetables. You love the tube packets of baby food; we went to IKEA and after 3 ½ hours of shopping (during which you were an angel!), you started to get fussy, so I opened up a packet of prune puree. As I leaned down under your stroller for a bib, you squeezed almost all of its contents on your shirts, your stroller shoulder straps, and your face. AND it was a deep, brownish purple.

You continue your fascination with minutiae, and your new “friends” are the lights that show up on the walls – reflected, refracted, whatever. You coo and talk at them, and your giggle when they move (like when I jiggled your exersaucer and made the light bouncing off its mirror fly across the room).

You’re also sleeping better (thanks to Elizabeth Pantley’s “The No-Cry Sleep Solution”), only waking up once or twice a night, rarely requiring a pick-up. Your dad and I really appreciate that.

The biggest occurrence this month isn’t a development for you, but for your Uncle Josh. He was diagnosed with testicular cancer. And Sagan, I don’t know what all of us would’ve done without you. When Dad and I went to the hospital to visit him, Pitter and Gran babysat you, and your time with them gave them a much-needed break from thinking about hospitals and cancer and medicine. You went to the hospital several times (we always tried to keep you away from the germ-infested people). Gran watched you in the parking garage, and you were fascinated by the mirror-ceilinged elevator to the skywalk, the pebbles (which you remembered from the lake, but were freaked out that you couldn’t remove from the bench).

We met up with Josh, too, and your visits to him in the hospital made him feel better than morphine.

And here are videos from one of those hang-outs.

There’s some super-cute stuff around 3:00, and then again at 4:00:

Check the little wave at the end!

More curious adorableness:

You have no clue that Uncle Josh is facing the biggest battle of his life, and that Mommy spends most of the time you’re napping researching ways to give him even the tiniest edge against cancer. You don’t understand why everyone hugs you a little harder and smiles at you a little longer. You haven’t the foggiest idea that you were one of Uncle Josh’s first thoughts when he heard his diagnosis.

And you don’t know that your beautiful smile, musical laugh, and amazingly clear love for all of us is giving us exactly what we need.

Hope.

Love,
Mom

Dislikes: lying on your back, being fed (you want to do it yourself!), hanging out in your tent, run-ins with the Roomba
Likes: exploring textures, meat, cheese, your FaceTiming with Josh, escaping the living room corral, "talking" to Oscar and Loki
Things You Can Do: Wave hi and bye, stand supported on one leg, “click” on demand, carry things in your mouth, make anyone smile

2010-12-27T19:17:00.000-08:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, December 2010::

Dear Sagan,

Merry eighth month! I have to say, when you were conceived, Dad and I had no inkling what great timing we’d achieved vis a vis your age during the holidays! I think that 8 months is the cutest possible age for a baby to be at Christmas; what a conflagration of habits, fascinations, noises, activities, and locomotor skills!

You went “camping” a couple more times, which basically means we had campfire food in remarkably mild Texas winter weather. When I went out to buy your dad's Christmas present, Gran and Uncle Josh took you to the lake shore and marveled at a) your lack of interest in the ducks; b) your fascination with the tiny pebbles, which you miraculously didn’t try to put in your mouth; and c) your appreciation of the sound of lapping water. Josh took some great photos with our camera (and Christmas rectified his lack of a good camera of his own):

Funnily, their discovery of your love of water sounds coincided with my purchase of a “Seaside Lullabies” CD, which features common, tinkly-sweet lullabies with soothing lapping water in the background. (Bonus track: 14 minutes of just the waves!) I started playing it as I rock you to sleep, a process which is surprisingly painless. You seem to have stopped fighting sleep; you may have just realized the beauty of it, the surrender to restfulness after your days of go-go-go and play-play-play. UNLESS, of course, we’re talking about the middle of the night; you’re waking up twice on average still, and we’re chalking it up to teething. Most of the time Dad or I can just shush and pat you back to sleep without lifting you out of your crib, but the rest of the time, you’ve already stood up, and there’s no way to get you straight back down after that. You then need a cuddle. And it’s not that bad when I think about how holding you in my lap or up on my shoulder won’t last much longer.

Solid food continues apace; you’re now really into the little “puffs” that, as far as I can tell, are more for training fine motor skills than they are for actual sustenance. But you love ‘em, and if you end up with childhood obesity, it was probably because puffs are The Greatest Panacea For Babies Ever.

You’re ever-more into discovering textures and details. Your eyes are drawn to them, even beyond what I notice sometimes. You’re fascinated by the door chain on the front door; whether it’s dangling and sparkly or closed and grab-tastic, your eyes (and fingers) are drawn there whenever we go into the front room. Amazingly, though, when we were coming inside after feeding Oscar the other day, you gestured and cooed, and I realized you had noticed another door chain! I totally hadn’t realized there was even one back there. Good eye, kiddo!

You’re still cruising up a storm, and we’ve turned the living room into the Sagan Corral. You don’t really need the foam mats anymore (though this month could easily be categorized as The Month With All The Head Bruises and Screaming), but we’ve set up an ottoman between the sofa and the red chair to create a babyproofed (well, mostly babyproofed) zone from which you cannot escape! Except for that one time you did. You bust your lip a couple of times, too, what with those emerging teeth (you now have four; if all you wanted for Christmas was your two front teeth, you totally got your wish).

Your personality is starting to ooze from every move. When we play music, you’ll often “sing along,” an odd wailing sound that I realized just tonight sounds just like a theremin! You’ll happily bang your hand against any flat surface (and I’ll happily say, “Bam bam bam!” along with you). By far the cutest music response you do now, though, is dancing. Your whole body bops back and forth, your head thrown back in elation and your mouth open with glee. Unfortunately, you’re a little camera shy with this, though; the sight of an iPhone or camera makes you fixate on it. Christmas music (specifically, Christmas commercial music!) really make you boppy. I downloaded all the Target Christmas songs, as well as the Vampire Weekend album, so we could replicate this effect sans TV. We all love to watch you dance.

Your cousin Kassidy babysat you one morning; she loved having you at your house, but I know she was glad to get all the attention back when you left!

You’ve started this faux bashfulness phase, one in which you turn your head away from people and bury your face in my chest for a moment before you turn back smile, flashing your four gorgeous teeth and reaching for a new friend. False shyness or no, I’m happy to be the recipient of your nuzzle.

Being the pride of three couples, you were featured on many holiday cards. We had four different ones (you can thank Shutterfly’s weird coupons for that!), plus Pitter and Gran’s, plus Nana and Grandpa Karl’s. You’re a star.

You performed admirably at the Smith and Rowe and Patterson Christmas reunions, dressed as Santa and Christmas plaid kid and Puma kid, respectively. Other little kids bowed down to your adorableness. And played with you. And made you smile. It was great. We were sad to not achieve our goal of training you to say “Ho ho ho!” before the holidays, though.

I almost didn’t decorate the house at all, but I’m glad I took the time to put up our silver tree with twinkly lights. You love gazing at our Christmas décor, particularly the sock Rudolph Pitter made (jingle bells! whee!) and a statue I refer to, affectionately, as Proctology Santa. (He’s pulling on a glove! With a twinkle in his eye!)

Christmas was... well... perfect. You were old enough to be completely adorable and interactive yet young enough to have no idea what was going on, so you didn’t know what Santa brought you, or why everyone gave you all those boxes with fun paper to eat, or what Baby Jesus had to do with anything (though Gran encouraged you to teethe on his wooden one from the nativity set, and when you lost that, he used a little flashlight, which I guess was appropriate). You did take an epic nap, along with the best of ‘em.

Next year will be different. Awesomer, but different. Sleepier for Mommy and Dad, for sure.

You LOVE the toys you got that make music. Your bam-bam-bams are welcome on a great LED-lit drum; you can beat that thing like a metronome. You have a musical learning table that really entertains you, with jazzed-up versions of nursery rhymes and the alphabet song.

And your rockin’ walker makes you “wiggle and giggle, bounce and bop and tap” (lyrics theirs). It’s amazing, to see the diametrically opposed reactions music gives you – from calming you down after fussiness to spazzing you out from your normal self – and I can’t wait to discover what more music can do for you.

More than anything, though, this Christmas made me so happy for you. To see so many people who love you and care about you, people whom you make smile and laugh—and weep with joy (I’m looking at you, Pitter)! I love that you’re a new focus of attention, and that you’re so sweet and fun and happy around large crowds (useful for being a Smith, huh?). Every year from here on out will be more beautiful, more joyful, and more magical than the last. Christmas was such a memorable, fantastic part of my childhood, and I pledge to make it as wonderful and wonder-filled as mine were.

Also, I pledge to embarrass you. A lot. Starting by publishing the face you make when you poop!

Love,
Mom

Dislikes: Being removed from danger, “drinking” from a sippy cup, being confined to your baby carrier at a restaurant, sitting in a high chair at a restaurant
Likes: Your Christmas tree and wreath in your room, the flavor of electrical plugs, unrolling toilet paper, your vibrating teether, singing
Things You Can Do: Headbang, chew/bite, walk while holding a hand, crawl fast, gesture to things you want, understand (and often comply with) “No”

2010-11-27T13:08:00.000-08:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, November 2010::

Dear Sagan,

Well, your Monthly Newsletter’s a few days late this time because you’ve been sick. And wow, I didn’t know exhaustion until I knew Sick Baby! Your fussiness combined with your inability to sleep longer than 30 minutes made for very tired parents. But you seem okay now, and I expect you’ve either gained immunity to something or you’ve popped a tooth.

So, wow. This month. It’s been remarkable.

It was Halloween; you went as Oscar:

On the day of Halloween, we went to the park where you rode your first slide (whee!) and your first swing (waaaah!) while it was 80 degrees. Later that day, your dad and Uncle Josh let pasta-making get the best of them, and we all watched "The Walking Dead," a zombie show that has since prompted scores of mild freak-out-with-worry moments for Mom.

You went on what’s probably your last Smith Ladies Shopping Weekend, it being the last one during which you won’t remember gifts bought for you. You were pretty happy to hang out at the mall, which gave Morgan reason to call you the Happiest Baby Ever. I’m not sure about that, but you were cute crawling around on the floor and grinning at passers-by.

It also was Thanksgiving, and you fell asleep along with the best of us.

Last time I wrote, you couldn’t crawl. However, this month, in the span of a week, you went from your little crawl-scoot, to crawling “properly,” to pulling yourself up to standing, to cruising, ALL WITHIN A WEEK. I don’t know if Kuhn had infant development on the brain when he devised the idea of paradigm shifts, but WOW. Nowhere are these changes more apparent than our living room. Gone are the days of eating in the living room! No more do we have a semi-stylish IKEA rug as our floor! See ya later, coffee table! We now have foam-puzzly pads on the floor. Our coffee table is behind Oscar’s crate. We have to hide everything – remotes, cans of soda, magazines, our phones – from your sight. I thought crawling would be a big deal, but two days later, you quickly eschewed the horizontal vector in favor of the vertical. Climbing is your raison d’etre. (No, Mom doesn’t know French. Google helped. Except for mode d’emploi, which I know from US-Canadian packaging and manuals.) Crawling is only your means to climbing up. And once you’re up, you’re moving. This has resulted in copious contusions. But to hear your dad say it, “If he doesn’t have any scratches or bruises growing up, I’m not doing it right.”

Fortunately, along with your cruising skills, you’ve developed the ability to fall gracefully, or at least with minimal injury. This does not mean you get away abrasion-free; you just lose less blood now. I think the accomplishment of “I know I can actually try not to fall backwards” was huge. Flailing at least helps.

All this physical prowess doesn’t mean you’re without your mental development, too. Every day, you’re more clearly learning things. This is not without its pratfalls. I can’t use my iPhone or iPad around you anymore without intense interest. (Jealousy seems to have developed, too.) I turned to your dad one day and said, “Wasn’t it nice when our baby didn’t have a clue?” Every single day, you’ll do something that makes your dad and me look at each other and smile, sharing the wonder of your accomplishment or discovery. You’re beginning to figure things out that we haven’t shown to you. Wow.

And clues you have! Your visual acuity – or at least your perception of detail – has really become clear. You’ll immediately reach for anomalies in the wood floor, buttons on Grandpa Karl’s shirt, leaves on the deck, and, unfortunately, noses. You love grabbing noses, and I’ve talked myself into believing that’s how you show affection. I can hear your inner monologue: “Awww, aren’t you a cool mommy? I will now pinch your nose and scratch it with my neglected fingernails! Love you! Mean it!”

One day I showed you that the switch on the wall of your nursery could go “on” and “off,” and now you can’t leave a room without reaching toward the switch and glancing toward the light. Sometimes we’ll indulge you and let you play a while, and about one in ten of these sessions will result in an actual change in the light level. Have you discovered causality?!?

Here you are, enjoying some gravity:

And here's some fun with object permanence!

`` ` `q2 `
You typed that!!! Nice.

You’re also really, really vocal. What started with your attempts to be friends with Oscar has spread to people, too. You’re a huge fan of “Ooh!” and “Oh!” We’ve tried to train you to say, “Ho ho ho!” but that’s not worked. Yet. I’ll sing, and you’ll wail along with me. You particularly seem to like arpeggios for now. And “Itsy-Bitsy Spider.”

You’ve reached a place where you have the ability to get yards away from me, by choice. You’ve discovered your autonomy, and with that comes separation anxiety. You start to whine when Dad or I leave the room, even if one of us stays there, though this is mitigated by continued talking or singing as we leave. You know you’re independent, and this makes me proud and also kind of sad. Fortunately, though,this separation is balanced by a new closeness. You’ll grab my nose, smush your face into mine, or hold my neck while I hold you. You’ll even, on occasion, just sit in my lap, relaxed into me. You’re getting big enough that your days of sleeping on us and our ability to hug your whole body are numbered.

Probably the worst part of this month has been a disgusting regression in your sleep habits. I swear, you slept better during your first three weeks than you do now. I smugly put away The No-Cry Sleep Solution, thinking, “My baby doesn’t need this,” and now, I’m thinking, “Damn, crow tastes like chicken.” So, we’re getting paid back for our months and months of interruption-free sleep. Your immediate instinct when you wake up is to practice crawling, ‘cause hey, it’s new and fun! Right? Your dad and I are rising to the occasion, though, planning our nighttime Sagan shifts and implementing some of the baby sleep best practices.

The aforementioned fevery sickness, which made for a night of micro-naps, may result from a triumvirate of pain for you. A) You’re cutting a tooth up top. I think. B) Our furnace is working, so our house is dry, and your humidifier isn’t enough to keep you uncongested. Finally, C) Your head gets a new bruise approximately every 7 hours. Your late- or middle-of-the-night wakings mean that I roll out of bed, grab my silenced phone (hey, I’m entitled to a little bit of Marple as you fall back asleep), and see if I can lull you back to sleep without picking you up. If not, if you’re wailing, I attend to the basics (Hunger? Diaper? Stuffiness?) and then rock you in the glider. This usually does the trick. When you finally get back to sleep, I relish that feeling, that weight if your head on my shoulder and your feet in my lap. And then a curious chiasmus comes; I stop rocking to calm you, and I let the rhythm of your slow, measured breaths calm me. The back and forth of your chest on mine brings me peace in the middle of the night.

My newest favorite lullaby is “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” and the loveliest lines of the bridge stay in my mind’s ear when I go back to bed:

“Where troubles melt like lemon-drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me...”

I’ll always rock you, and I’ll always do everything within my power to melt your pain away.

Love,
Mom

SNAPSHOT:
Dislikes: Going down for a nap, having the Apple TV Remote/iPhone/piece of paper/granola bar wrapper taken away from you, violin solos, lying still on the changing table, falling
Likes: Crinkly objects (especially leaves), talking to the space heater, peek-a-boo, watching Oscar and Loki play
Things You Can Do: Crawl across the room, transition from crawling to sitting and back, pull yourself up to standing, (more importantly) get into a seated position from standing, walk holding someone’s hands, hit toys against the floor

2010-10-27T13:57:00.000-07:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, October 2010::

Dear Sagan,

You’ve been breathing air for 6 months! Congratulations!

You’ve done so much this month. So much input! So much adventure! So many bumps on the head due to crawling/scooting mishaps!

You went with us to the mighty State Fair of Texas and got to ride the Texas Star ferris wheel. No problems with heights, but you got chilly in the high-altitude wind.

You were pretty content to be strolled while we ate fried foods, but by the end you were pooped; Josh carried you for a while, and before we got back to the car, you gave us this look that I know I’ll see as you become a tween: “Ugh, Mom. Just... Whatever.”

You went camping again, enjoying the dirt and sun. You stayed with Gran and Pitter quite a few times, spreading your smiles, laughter, and poopy diapers to everyone!

The coolest development is that we’ve started feeding you “solids,” which is a misnomor. It’d be more accurate to say that we’ve started feeding you “smooths.” I got a Babycook, this device that steams and purees food in one container, and I’ve cooked up batches of carrots, green beans, sweet potatoes, and pears. You’ve been fed the two former, which you’ve eaten with gusto, but rice cereal is still your mainstay. Feeding you was a delightful experience; you grabbed the spoon from me and shoved it into your own mouth. At first we thought you were just obsessed with the spoon, but you learned pretty quickly that in order to get more food, you had to let go of it. Guess you were ready to eat!

Or, perhaps, you were ready to REQUIRE that we bathe you daily. (Adequate Parent confession: Sometimes, when Mommy and Dad were both tired, you did not get a bath before you went to bed. This may be a shock to you—though not so much if you’re a teenager or older—but Mom and Dad are imperfect. I know! Shocker!!!)

But, likewise, Sagan, the cracks in your perfect baby image are beginning to show. You are now aware when we take things from you. And if I’m so unlucky as to need to remove your glowy jack-o’-lantern or your sippy cup from your hand? You’re more inconsolable than when you got your latest round of immunizations! Object permanence might be handy to you and your perception of reality and otherness, but it’s inconvenient to me. Please retain your inability to remember that objects outside your sight exist. Thanks.

Your sphere of influence is growing exponentially, and your “learning radius” grows along with it. It’s to the point now where every movement, every reach, every fidget, tend to mean something beyond random muscle jags. (Except for the inconspicuous lilting of your fingers as you watch something or hang out in my arms; the little waves your fingers do simultaneously crack us up and awe us.) You can kick. You can pinch. You can grab our noses (this ability has prompted me to trim your fingernails about thrice as frequently). You’re figuring out how to do things, and I delight in your every discovery. Objects go in your mouth for evaluation. You roll and pivot on the floor to get anywhere you need to go, especially toward dangerous items like cords! And Dad’s hair trimmer! And that lower level of the glass coffee table! When people hold you, you bounce as though you’re in your exersaucer; I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the rousing, “Bounce, bounce, bounce!”

You have learned to get on all fours, which is adorable; you rock and have scooted your knees forward but haven’t figured out that your hands should move, too. But hey! When you fall forward due to your pitched center of gravity, you’ve moved about five inches in the direction you wanted! Mission accomplished!

The other day, you held yourself up against a milk crate while standing. And then – AND THEN! – you let go! Fortunately, I was there to spot you. But your confidence, trust in me, and flat-out baby-ballsiness will stay in my mind forever. So let the couch surfing begin!

You’re still drawn to any screen in the room (even the reflection of the TV in the bedroom when I try to turn you away from the actual one). You still love the iPad best.

However, you’re still thrilled by the simpler amusements; one night, a stuffed iguana was your beyond-best friend; your giggles echoed through our house and made it even more of a home:

(WARNING: Excessive superlative use ahead.)

I’m writing this the day after your half-birthday, after your dad and I celebrated our third anniversary. Over the seven years of our relationship, we’ve done a lot of great stuff. We’ve walked a labyrinth in the middle of the night in Galveston. We’ve had an amazing wedding. We’ve traveled through the gorgeously alien Icelandic landscape. But nothing we’ve done compares to creating you. I love that our anniversary takes place on the exact opposite side of the sun from your half-birthday; the love and trust I have for your dad is brought to life in you.

You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Ever known. I gaze at you as you sleep, and my breath’s taken away. Your brilliantly blue eyes are the stuff of legend, at least in my mind. I don’t know if we just think you’re this adorable because you’re ours, or if you really are that beautiful.

But it doesn’t matter, because each perceiver has his or her own reality, and you are my new reality. I have never seen anything as sublimely lovely as you.

Love,
Mom

SNAPSHOT:
Dislikes: When Dad or I leave the room, strong smells, having objects removed from your possession
Likes: Carrots, green beans, yawping for attention, seeing Dad, just about any song
Things You Can Do: Sit unassisted, pinch for small things, "crawl," look for an object you've dropped

2010-09-27T07:19:00.000-07:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, September 2010::

Dear Sagan,

Wow, five months, huh? I can’t believe I’ve known you this long! Then again, I can’t believe I haven’t known you for much, much longer than that. I still don’t think of “mother” as my primary descriptor (thank god for the Internet and Dad for that), but taking care of you is the main responsibility of my existence. And really? It’s kind of fun, even when things are sucky. And you’re becoming such a little boy instead of a baby. You aren’t changing, as much as you’re... amplifying. In every way.

You’ve had a couple of rough days this month, with the teething and allergies. No more new teeth have emerged, but a couple of unexplained night wakings coupled with your need to chew on your hands all the time lead me to believe that you’re still in the dental doldrums. (Never mind the copiously bubbly drool that falls from your mouth onto your chin and chest all day! We are now in “bib all day” mode.) Fall allergens came raging in this month, congesting you again. Those weird snorting sounds really disconcerted me. I got to nasally aspirate you some more, which neither of us enjoyed, but I think you finally resigned yourself to it because you may have noticed how much better it made you feel.

This month was characterized by development of your senses – suddenly for you, the world is a smorgasbord of sights, textures, and sounds. You’re insatiably curious; sometimes, you won’t sleep or eat (two things you desperately need to do sometimes!) because there’s so much to look at, or a sound has captured your attention. You watch cars zoom past our house on Westmoreland. You track Oscar as he runs across the yard. You look up when you hear Dad’s footsteps in the next room. You mouth anything you can get your hands on; your tongue is your fingertip on the Braille of the world. Crinkly items fascinate you, and mirrors give you opportunities to grin at that baby who comes around every once in a while and looks just like you. No psychology course could have prepared me for – or showed me more about -- this process of discovery.

Your ability to sense the world with your mouth is focused on your tongue, which you've delightfully discovered. If something's not in your mouth, you have your tongue sticking out of it.

Your motor cortex continues to form connections, too. You’re a proficient grabber now.

You grab your feet, your toys, Gran’s back hair, crib rails, Uncle Josh’s beard, blankets, necklaces, wires, and bottles. My carrying-you-while-getting-stuff-done regimen has changed due to your ability to “help.” And you are thisclose to crawling! You can lift yourself up from the waist, and you can maneuver your legs underneath yourself, but these acts are disparate for now. Couple them, and whoa. Life As I Know It is about to shift. But it’s cool; even when we put appealing objects in front of you and you can’t crawl to ‘em, you’ve discovered that if you simply pull the blanket toward you, you can get the toys. Damn, you’re a genius.

Several times I’ve been sitting with you as you played – once at the little piano you love – and you’ll turn to me and smile, as if to say, “Did you catch that? How cool!” I played “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” one of your favorite songs, and when I finished, you looked up at me and a supernova grin exploded across your face. Another time, you were on your back, tugging on your space mat/gym toys, and you discovered that if you kick the arch, then ALL of the toys move. Again, the huge grin: “Did you see that?!? I made it happen!!!” It’s fantastic, being your coconspirator in exploration.

And you continue to find your voice! You’ve tried out several new noises this month, from the squealy, loud noise we’re convinced is your attempt to speak Oscar’s yawn language, to the strange inhaling sound your make when you’ve pushed yourself up into upward-facing dog. You wake us in the morning with your coos instead of your whines. And oh, you continue to laugh:

After much camper-shopping and excitement, we finally got to go camping! I hope this isn’t projection on my part, but you loved it. Thank goodness Pitter and Gran have a truck, or there’s no way we’d get all your baby stuff to a campsite. You were enraptured by the greenness, the fire, the newness of it.

Pitter was sick, and it broke her heart that it wasn’t wise to hold you. Then, Gran was sick, too! And then there were ants!!! (But I’ve got to hand it to Uncle Josh – if not for his liberal spraying of your playard’s legs with ant spray, you’d’ve been annoyed all night like we were.) Thank goodness they weren’t stinging ants. And that we were 10 minutes from Gran and Pitter’s house when it got to be 102 degrees.

You’re in love with your dad. And with Oscar. When either of them enter your field of view, your eyes are on them, and you coo, grin, and reach for both. Only Oscar licks your hands and face (though who knows what Dad does when he watches you)!

And you’re so BIG! At your 4-month appointment, you measured in the 95th percentile for “height.” You’re the size of a 7 ½-month old. Dang.

I wish so much that I could get inside your head, to know what form your thoughts – or mere experiences – take. Is everything an experiential blur? Or do you have wordless feelings of “Oh yeah, I like this lady”? Do you have any concept of time? Are you able to remember things at all? You continue to laugh with your whole body, and my favorite moments with you now are when we giggle together. We laugh, sharing the moment, both of us suspended in ecstatic glee, and everything is perfect. And even though I know you can’t put it into words, or even into vague memories, and I have no idea what it’s like inside your mind, at those joyous moments, I know we’re experiencing the exact same thing.

Love,
Mom

SNAPSHOT:
Dislikes: Being left alone, getting exhausted by push-ups, when I take things away from you, not being able to fit objects in your mouth
Likes: Banging on things, being carried around, fabric in your mouth, bouncing in your exersaucer thingy, spiders
Things You Can Do: Reach out and grab things consistently, pull your feet to your mouth, do a straight-armed “push-up,” turn over from your belly to your back, sit while supporting yourself with your arms

2010-08-27T20:38:00.000-07:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, August 2010::

Dear Sagan,

You’ve been amazing this month. Seriously. Every day holds a new discovery.

You went to New Braunfels with the Smith Clan; we go every year. As your dad says, “I’ve been quite a few times, but it’s exciting that this is Sagan’s first, and he’ll go every summer.” We stayed at The Other Place, like we usually do, and because we had a baby, your dad and I got a bedroom! Instead of bunks in the main room! Thanks for being born, Sagan!

Like the swimming pool, you were ambivalent about the river. On the upside, Uncle Josh helped you “walk” in the water, you tolerated the dorky hat we made you wear, and it bodes well for futures in the Comal. On the other hand, Pitter splashed you. That made you about as happy as the time Gran dunked you in the tepid hot tub. Duh, you’ve already been baptized, grandparents!

You’ve gained the ability to roll over, but you chose to buck convention and only do it from your back to your belly. So really, you just learned how to make yourself really malcontent, really quickly.

However, your “mini push-up” skills have vastly improved, so you can enjoy yourself after rolling over for, oh, ten whole minutes now! This is extra-awesome for us when you’ve rolled over in the night and wake up in the morning on your stomach. (You rolled over from your belly to your back once; we’re logging it as accidental, since you really just fell back into a roll when you lifted your head really high. It was funny, though! Thanks!)

You’ve started teething, too! You cut your first tooth right after your 3-month birthday, and every other day or so, you’re inordinately fussy. This means that our new “Sagan mess” is your viscous, gloppy saliva! (This beats curdly-milk spit-up and warmly leaking pee, though.) The wet spot after you’ve taken a nap is marvelous; we’ve had to move your sheet saver from under your groin area to under your face! Relief is hard to come by. How awesome of you to teethe before you acquire the motor skills to put something in your moth ON YOUR OWN. You like sucking on a cold, wet rag-clad mom-knuckle the best.

We gave you a little rice cereal one night, just to see what would happen. Never in our wildest dreams did we expect your response. You screamed like we’d poured acid in your mouth! Um, we’ll try that again later.

My favorite development this month is of your laugh. It’s a hearty, full sound – one which... Well, it doesn’t melt my heart, it strengthens it. Pitter was, proudly, first to make you giggle; she was helping you put your toes in your mouth, and you found this hilarious. You’ve yet to laugh at one of my puns; even when I told you, “Look, Sagan! That Whole Foods billboard says, ‘We come in peas!’ Can you believe they made such a quadruple entendre?!?” you stayed stone-faced. But Oscar makes you laugh!

Our bedtime routine is the one real routine we have. You’re not on a nap schedule, or a feeding schedule, or an outing schedule, but every night around 9:00, your dad and I give you a bath – which, wow, you love:

– and dress you for bed. You get your last nursing, then I put you in your crib. I decided about a month ago that “Stand By Me” should be your lullabye; I even bought it on iTunes so I can croon along with Ben E. King to that great triangle-infused rhythm line. One afternoon, you had a particularly teethy time at Pitter and Gran’s house, and you were fussy on the way home. Hmm. No, “fussy” isn’t right. You were fremescent. So I hooked up my phone to the car speakers, selected “Stand By Me,” and soon your tears waned, and mine started to come. Behold the power of the lullabye. It was beautiful. (I also was crying for Gordie Lachance and Chris Chambers.)

Okay. Wherever you are right now, go thank your dad. He quit his job and had a new one in two weeks, and it seems to have been a really wise move. I would have gone back to work two weeks ago, and, thanks to him, I didn’t have to. I got to stay home. Watch you learn. Soothe you when you cry. Hold you while you sleep. Feed you when you’re hungry. Amuse you further when you giggle. All of those things get to be with me instead of someone else. Your dad made it possible for me to stay home with you and watch you grow up. Not all moms have the chance to do this (I call it a luxury, some would call it an insanity sentence). We are remarkably fortunate to be able to.

His new job lets him work from home 3 days a week, and by the time I write your next letter, he’ll have home office built outside so you and I can use the living room without having to flee if you start whining! As I say to you frequently, “Yaaaaay!”

I got to see a photo of your dad as a baby, and whoa, your paternity is not doubtful. I see a bit of my appearance in you, but you really look like your dad. That, I think, is one of the glories of parenthood. You children are so amazing because in a way -- at least halfway – we get to know our partners as kids. And that makes us love you even more.

It’s been a third of a year, and Sagan, you are everything I expected and more. I now have everything I’ve ever wanted, but I really needed you. I’ll continue to be with you, whenever you need me.

When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we’ll see
Oh, I won’t be afraid
No, I won’t be afraid
Just as long as you stand
Stand by me...

If the sky that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
Or the mountains should crumble to the sea
I won’t cry
I won’t cry
No, I won’t shed a tear
Just as long as you stand
Stand by me.

Love,
Mom

SNAPSHOT:
Dislikes: Being splashed or dunked, the sound of Oscar's tags jangling, teething pain
Likes: Oscar licking you, pulling off your socks, scratching your crotch, tapping on iOS devices
People You’ve Now Peed On: No one new! Yay!
Things You Can Do: Reach out and grab things, bear weight on your legs for an extended period, turn in Mom or Dad's direction when you hear their voice, hold your head level when pulled up

2010-07-27T17:09:00.001-07:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, July 2010::

Dear Sagan,

Congratulations! You made it through your fourth trimester! This month started with your 2-month checkup, where you got lots of shots (prepare to redo this on your 21st birthday)! Your doctor checked you out and declared to me, “He’s perfect.” Man, I have zero education in the medical field and I could’ve told the world that. Oh wait, I do that to everyone already.

The Fourth of July introduced you to the extended family, and then you got your first taste of “swimming” at Dena and Clint's pool. Initially, you hated it (maybe it had something to do with the way I just kinda dangled you in the water and dipped you like a chip into salsa). However, with time (and a more gradual dip into the water), you seemed to not dislike it.

Later, for the first half of the Duncanville fireworks, you slept in Alisa’s arms, then you watched them in my lap. Gran was lucky; he got to see you smile during the grand finale!

You also went to a wedding and a then shower (thrown for you by Nana and Grandpa Karl!) in Houston, where you were deluged with love (even as you deluged pee on three people who held you). You were fortunate enough to meet your great-grandparents, Bill and Doris, and you even got to take a nap on Great-Grandma Doris! You were well-behaved at the wedding and reception, and at the shower, you – as usual – charmed everyone.

Your development continues to amaze and amuse me. Your head is steadier than ever, even when I lift you from horizontal. During “tummy time,” you can maneuver your arms beneath you and lift your upper body so your head is perpendicular to the ground. You can’t crawl or roll over, but when you’re on your back, you can pivot your body around your head with your feet so that you can point in a totally different direction if given enough time.

You’re getting more coordinated with your hands and arms, too. You’ve gained the ability to bring your hands together -- ostensibly so you can suck on two thumbs at once. You’ve started reaching for things, non-randomly grabbing at dangling toys on your bouncy chairs (you have one at home and one at Pitter and Gran’s), links and stuffed tinkling bugs on your car seat, my wedding ring necklace (will my fingers EVER unpuff?), and, if you get an arm free, your swaddling cloth. I fill with wonder and trepidation when I think of further development in this area.

I’m really delighted by your relationship with our iPad. Your mom is cheap, so she very, very rarely pays for apps, but some free ones have rocked your world (or at least your half-hour). She got a Toy Story interactive book which “reads” to you, and you’ll listen to the whole story! See, here's proof you can get to the end:

Bubbles, where you create and pop bubbles on the screen, grabs your attention, and you’re really interested in one of my favorites, Gravilux. You control your hands enough to drag them across the screen to “pull” little dots toward that point of contact. Your favorite, though, seems to be Forest Friends, which has a piano app. You’ll pound on the keys forever! Check it out on YouTube, if it’s still around when you read this:

My favorite new thing you do, though, is putting your arms around the person who’s holding you. It’s an expression of trust, and every time I feel your little fist reaching around the back of my arms, I’m won.

Over the past week or so, you’re really reminding me of your dad. I can see his profile in yours, sometimes, and his upper lip, and his hair. And oh, his eyes... At your 2-month appointment, your pediatrician told me that your eyes would likely stay blue if no hints of brown had shown up by then. It’s been a month beyond that, now, and your eyes are still a bright, crisp, easy blue. I’m overjoyed that you’ve got your dad’s eyes. When I look at you, I see him, and it makes me love you even more. (This also works conversely, luckily for your dad.)

Last Friday, we took you to a dinner party. There were four other couples in attendance, and they all came away wanting babies at the end of the night (or at least the women did)! We closed down the party at midnight, and you smiled and cooed your way out the door. You were amazingly chill and good-natured, even for you! We had to tell everyone, “This is atypical!” but for some of them, the proof was in your adorable pudding.

Oh, and remember that travel trailer I mentioned? The one Gran and Pitter were shopping for during your first weeks? Well, they didn’t have it by month two, but they have it now! We’ll “camp” in their Airstream before your next newsletter.

You are frequently, ridiculously happy. We've joked that your brother or sister (in the future!) will be a really, really difficult baby because you've been so easy-going and wonderful to be around. You already have a great sense of humor! Check this out:

You’ve been here for three months, but it’s so hard for me not to couch the idea of you in infinite terms. When I make certain small movements, I’m reminded of you, and it’s like, for the briefest moment, I’ve channeled you. And it’s strangely true; not only did you truly inhabit me for nine months, every bit of who you are is inside of me, still living in my mind and soul. I am still holding you inside me, and I suspect I will be forever.

After I fed you one night, you looked up at me with your shining eyes and smiled. Our eyes stayed locked together, then, and I felt as though I’d known you – and loved you – all my life.

And you seem to already know that I have, and that I always will.

Love,
Mom

SNAPSHOT:
Dislikes: Shots, mosquito bites, Oscar rolling over onto you
Likes: Your bouncy chairs, the iPad, the iTunes Visualizer, swinging in the hammock, splashing in the bath, cooing and gurgling
People You’ve Now Peed On: Nana, Grandpa Karl
Things You Can Do:
Look around as you hold your head up, bring your hands together, hold your head up 90 degrees while on your stomach, move around by rotating your body 90 degrees while keeping your head in the same place

2010-06-27T04:00:00.000-07:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, June 2010::

Dear Sagan,

This month has been amazing. We’ve found our groove, you and I. Our days have been busier – we’ve left the house on at least half of them – but I’ve learned how to anticipate your needs, so you’re less fussy and I’m less psychotic. You’ve been to restaurants, REI, Costco (you’ll go there a lot), and four funerals. Yes, four. But you certainly don't mind being in the car:

You’ve come a long way physically; you have your two-month checkup (read: First Dose of Shots) tomorrow, and I expect your height – well, heh, length – to be at least 2 inches greater. I am not anticipating a report of “he’s not thriving,” because you totally are. You also remind me of what you’ll be like as a teenager: you’ve got acne, and your hairstyle is indefinable. I will call it “The Beiber Mullet,” because it’s short in the front but is great in length and sweeps grandly to the side in the back.

I may not remember who Justin Beiber is when you read this. You can use Google to find out. If Bing has won the search engine game, you’re probably not allowed on the Internet.

You’ve graduated to your crib, which means you’re about 10 feet further from us, though there’s a wall between, the primary purpose of which is to block your little nighttime sounds that don’t actually signify lucidity. (I hope you don’t remain such a sleeptalker. It would get you in a lot of trouble.) After a brief bout of congestion – I don’t know if you should thank me or slap me for the jobs of nasal aspiration I did – you’re regularly sleeping 7-9 hours a night. Without waking up in the middle. You don’t know what it means now, but THANK YOU. Having parents who have slept means that we’ll take fewer exhaustion-induced parenting shortcuts. I hope.

You may or may not have some control over your limbs. I play a “punch me/kick me” game where I challenge you to hit my hands with your limbs. While I have no idea if you can control where your fists or feet go, it sure seems like you’re trying. I’m using some of the same techniques I used teaching Oscar to roll over, but since I can’t give you treats, I just clap my hands excitedly (which sometimes startles the shit out of you, literally) and encourage you to do the same. With my help.

The most miraculous change since last month is your fantastic smile.

It comes easily, when you see me or Dad, when Uncle Josh makes crazyfaces at you, or when Pitter’s voice climbs two octaves. You seem to entertain yourself sometimes, even, grinning at your stuffed neuron that hangs from the arch in your bassinette, accidentally making yourself bounce in the bouncy chair, or looking at ceiling fans, which remain The Most Fascinating Objects in the House. My favorites are the ones that saunter across your lips when I wake you up and my smile greets you.

You seem to really enjoy leveraging your smile when you torture your Dad and me with your elimination habits. Three times – three! – you’ve pooped while we were changing your poopy diaper, and each time you smiled before you did it, like, You guys are gonna LOVE this! Watch! We, of course, encouraged your behavior by laughing like hyenas. Your first public explosive poop happened when Uncle Josh and I went to lunch. I thought I’d gotten mustard on my pants... but it was not mustard. You once went 3 days without pooping. The end of that run (pun delightfully intended) was one for the record books.

You’re also cooing with delight and trying – I assume – desperately to make words come out. I’ve tallied most vowel sounds, and you can make the hard g sound. I’m tempted to say that “goo” was your first word, referring to your poop. That, or “mmm geh,” which I won’t accept as your coming out, at least yet. You’re at your most delightfully vocal when you’re on the changing table. One night, after your bath, your grin – one that touched your whole body – entranced me. I didn’t want to put you to bed, because I knew I’d miss you too much until you woke up in the morning.

Gran arranged for you to be baptized, and you were very, very welcomed. You also exerted an amazing amount of control over your noises and bodily functions during the service.

People keep telling me to treasure these times – and while I can’t wait for you to talk, walk, and feed yourself (nevermind take care of your own toileting!), I do take time to enjoy the moments we share first thing in the morning when I feed you, when we’re alone and the world’s still quiet. I take mental snapshots of the times when you fall asleep on me. And, believe it or not, I’m trying to wire the sounds of your cries into my auditory cortex permanently. They’re strangely sweet and lovely when I think about how I won’t hear them again when you grow up.

We spent a few hours outside on the deck a few days ago, and I couldn’t get enough of you. I gazed at your face, the perfection of it. Your perfect nose, your perfect bowed lips, your perfect eyelashes, your perfect fuzz of blonde hair. And I see my own eyes looking back at me, but blue, so they’re also your dad’s eyes, and time stops.

I can’t wait until you can understand what it means when I repeat I love you, I love you, I love you while I stare at you in your crib.

Love,
Mom

SNAPSHOT:

Dislikes: Having stuff pulled over your head, being hungry, Dad’s loud sneezes
Likes: Hanging out on the changing table, being tightly swaddled, saying “good morning,” staring at dangling toys, your bouncy chair, my boobs, playing “bicycle” you’re your legs, pooping inconveniently, peeing on Gran when I warn him and yet he still doesn’t expect it
People You’ve Now Peed On: Pitter, Gran, Bethany, Megan
Things You Can Do: Hold your head up mostly steadily, lift your head to a 45-degree angle, track small objects, turn your head toward our voices, reply to us with “talk”

2010-05-27T08:23:00.000-07:00

::Sagan's Monthly Newsletter, May 2010::

Dear Sagan,

Welcome to your first Monthly Newsletter! I got the idea from a blogger named Heather Armstrong; she wrote them to her daughter Leta. I hope to write these for THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. (I also got my all-caps styling from the same Heather.)

We were really happy you were born on April 27 – 4/27 is 2 squared and 3 cubed! I opted out of a “30 minute breather” during labor to make sure you didn’t get stuck with 4/28 as a birthday, which is, lamely, 4 x 7 = 28. Boring! (You were born at 11:23 according to the wall clock in our delivery room; Dad was very excited since those are the inaugural Fibonacci numbers. Alas, the computer said you were born a minute earlier.)

There were sixteen family members in the waiting room for you to arrive. At 11:22 PM. SIXTEEN PEOPLE. You were hotly anticipated! Fortunately, a Mavericks game was on, so people stayed entertained. I watched James Burke’s Connections 2, and, later, “Glee.” It was the suckiest episode of “Glee” I’ve ever seen.

We’d pretty much decided on Sagan for your first name (for me, it was after an epiphany in the shower). Carl Sagan’s “Pale Blue Dot” passage of Cosmos really affected me. When you came out, we noticed you were HUGE. The middle name Thor, which we’d played around with (and which I poo-poohed for about nine months as a possibility but changed my mind when Jón Þór Birgisson, the lead singer of Sigur Rós, came out with his most recent album) then became a certainty.

You’re such an interesting amoeba of personality right now. We know that most of your movements – including your facial expressions – aren’t intentional. You haven’t smiled for real, nor did you mean to kick yourself in the poopy balls while I was changing you. You didn’t mean to flip everyone off that time. You don’t mean to pee on us. At least I hope.

I’m learning about you every day; you show me glimpses of who you are in your reactions to things, in your enthusiastic response to my smell, the things you choose to look toward, and your face. Your eyes are still blue – jury’s out on whose eye color you’ll inherit – and they charm me every day when they stare up into mine.

You’re a great sleeper so far – last night you slept from 11:00 until 5:30. You seem self-sufficient in the entertaining-yourself-as-you-fall-asleep department, too, which is very nice of you. It means I can do stuff that’s not actively taking care of you, y’know, like writing you this newsletter. Heh.

Your grandparents love you; Nana and Grandpa Karl came all the way from Houston to hang out with you while your dad and I went for sushi. They held you and cooed to you and are thrilled to have you here. Pitter and Gran are over the moon for you. Gran finds excuses to come over all the time (which makes Pitter jealous) – and as for Pitter, she can’t keep her hands off you, and I’ve already made fun of them for acquiring a pack ‘n’ play, since they’ll never put you down long enough to need it. They’re shopping for a travel trailer to tote you around in, and I’ll be shocked if they don’t have one by the time I write next month’s newsletter.

Uncle Josh and “Aunt” Nessa adore you, too. They visit and hold you all the time. Josh wants to teach you to dance; hold him to it! Oscar, your baby’s best friend, likes to lick your head and sniff your feet.

There are tons of other people who have met you, held you, kissed your head, and love you already. You are lucky to have one of the strongest, most loving families in the world already surrounding you!

Our day-to-day life has settled in; we get up early and have breakfast before Dad gets up. I’ve invented this morning ritual of saying “Good morning!” to your body parts. We greet your feet, toes, legs, belly, chest, arms, fingers, hands, ears, eyes, nose, mouth, chin, and head – then I say good morning to you! I’ve also started counting your body parts “with” you. Good times. You’ll nap three or four times during the day, and you’ll go to bed around 10 or 11.

You and I are working as a team. You have to figure out how to live outside my uterus, where you’re right-side up and BREATHING AIR and not capable of conscious thoughts, much less communication. I have to learn how to give my time and effort all to you, re-dedicate my leisure, and help you navigate your way through this new world. The thing is, though, you’re helping me, too. You forgive me when I have to let you cry for a second while I go pee, you “smile” even when I’ve been playing with the iPad instead of staring at you, and your fervent love for nursing has helped me stumble through that process to find what works for us. We work well together, Sagan. Thanks for this amazing partnership.

Speaking of partnerships, your father and I can’t believe how much our lives have changed since you’ve popped out of me. The house looked different when we got home; it’s a little bit more of a home now. Your nursery is no longer a showcase room; it’s a functional, lived-in place where I feed you in the morning, change you when you need it, and lovingly stare at your onesie collection. I also view your dad in a new light. In addition to loving him as my husband, I love him even more because you are half him – and because he’s already an amazing father to you. (Tonight, he felt all smug because you hadn’t peed on him while he was changing you – and about 20 minutes later, you made karma and me happy by peeing, pre-diaper, while you were under his watch! Ha!) We are a family of three, now. That means three people farting! Plus Oscar!

I suspected that I would feel an explosion of love for you right after you were born, but I was exhausted, and being stitched up, and bleary as hell. What I have felt, though, is so much more. An explosion expends a great deal of energy in a short amount of time – and then it’s gone, leaving only its effects. But my love for you has been, instead, a powerfully shining ember, always glowing, always burning, always there. The area under the graph is much greater this way (we’ll tell you what that means later, but suffice it to say that my love for you is all-consuming, and growing, and indelible).

I can’t wait to keep meeting you.

Love,
Mom

SNAPSHOT:

Dislikes: Getting naked, being hungry, being cold, having clothes pulled over your head
Likes: Riding in the car, looking at the TV, “dancing” to music, taking a bath, my boobs, farting, falling asleep on Dad’s chest, sucking your fists
People You’ve Peed On: Mom, Dad, Uncle Josh, Denyce
Things You Can Do: Hold your head up, smile gassily, make fists, focus on faces, recognize and follow voices across the room, stare at and track high-contrast objects, vocalize (not just cry)

2009-01-25T09:16:00.001-08:00

::WHEN I REALIZED I WAS AN ADULT::

When I lived by myself, I realized I was an adult. All messes in the apartment? Mine. All bills sent there? Mine. All possessions? Mine. All secrets? Mine.

I had been with boyfriends and/or roommates since college, and there was nothing like ultimate responsibility to show me I was "grown up." More than getting married or paying for my own cellphone plan, even.

I will laugh at myself when I have a baby, though. I only THINK I'm an adult now.

2009-01-23T19:31:00.001-08:00

MY HIP-HOP POSSE::

Weird Al Yankovic
He sports the chains and knows SO MUCH about rap already. A handy rhyming helper!

Bjork
She would make my clothing (and voice) seem less loud. Plus, access to Matthew Barney.

Jon Stewart
Extramarital sex, the best thing about being a rapper.

2009-01-23T16:31:00.001-08:00

::IN DEFENSE OF MY VICE::

Bourbon Mint Tea by thebittenword.com

I've enjoyed aspartame since I was a wee one; "iced tea" in my household growing up had these little white pills in it. I hope they were indeed aspartame!

To this day, I prefer the taste of Sweet 'n' Low in my coffee and tea -- over Splenda and even over real sugar.

It's safe enough for rats to OD on, so it's safe for me to have a coupla packets a day. Also, any health issues from that are overriden by those from obesity if I eat all that sugar.

So there. And pass me the fake sugar, pink.

2008-04-06T06:47:00.000-07:00

::A JOKE I MADE UP YESTERDAY::

Q: What do Spanish-speakers call a short German dance?

A: Un polkito!

(This joke is inspired by my class's Reading Buddies class, a clan of second-grade Mexican awesomes. They posed this joke to me a few weeks ago:

Q: What does a fish do all day?

A: Nada.

Hahahaha! I love Spanish puns, too!!!)

2008-02-06T20:20:00.000-08:00

::AUTOPHOTOGRAPHICAL::

Dear god, it's been forever since I've posted. Being a teacher is time-consuming, 'specially when I want to be a good owner to Oscar, a good wife to Austin, and a good self to me.

But!

Wedding photos are up on Flickr! Taken mostly by Jason Kindig Photography (with a few from officiant Jeff or his wife thrown in because they rule), we're really happy with the pictures and portraits. Hire Jason if you need fabulous pictures! For real!

Choose your time-suck wisely. There are:

.:The best of the best

.:The good photos, by category, and

.:The Whole Thing.

Ideally, I'll have titles for them eventually. But please comment, if you have stuff to say!

You can also see Jason's favorites on his site here.

2007-11-29T15:07:00.000-08:00

::::

Know what's rad? Being at home during sunset. On a work day.

I don't think this has happened since I've started teaching. It happened today.

2007-11-11T14:07:00.000-08:00

::WELL, THAT HAPPENED! ::

I'm married now!

The wedding? Magnificent. The honeymoon? Fabulous. The return to real life? Harrowing.

But! Some of our pictures are up on our photographer's site: Link. Jason rocked! I can't wait to see all the photos.

Go to Weddings, then click on the photo for Portraits -- there are three of my bridal shots and one from our pre-ceremony photo shoot (jumping couple in white, lower-half-of-face bridal shot, me in front of the Best Wall Ever, me in the grass trying to keep my dress from blowing in the wind).

Also, while under Weddings, click on the photo to go to Portfolio -- there are some from our wedding there, too (ceremony shot of me with the ring, SUMMER & AUSTIN on the building, the blue room with silhouettes and clear glass globes, giant white wall with dancing and a little girl in an ivory tux).

Yay! Whaddaya think?

2007-10-10T19:37:00.000-07:00

::THOM G. BIV::

The new Radiohead is perfectly titled. It's less harsh, decidedly less melancholy, and warmer than their previous effort. Whereas Hail to the Thief, with its electronic glitch and its superbly produced tracks, was made for mp3, In Rainbows was made for vinyl. It's still just as rich and wrap-around-you dense, but that density is woolen instead of Polyfil.

I mean, god, there's a sample of schoolkids saying "Yay!" in track one.

We can't wait until December.

2007-09-30T20:05:00.000-07:00

::WHERE DO CARE BEARS LIVE? ::

Only this is enough to make me inject energy into the blogosphere instead of seeping it out.

2007-09-08T21:43:00.000-07:00

::THINGS I'VE DONE TODAY::

.: Delighted in breakfast at Cafe Brazil.
.: Deposited my first paycheck since July 31.
.: Shopped for wedding shoes for Austin and me, both brick-and-mortar and online. Bought online.
.: Bought a baby shower gift.
.: Graded. For three hours.
.: With Austin and Oscar, walked the entire Katy Trail, about 6 miles. Humans were fine; by the end, Oscar was lying down every 25 feet. It was pretty embarrassing. We kept giving him water, so he was hydrated -- he was just exhausted having to walk more than our usual one-mile Starbucks-and-back "long walk." People kept stopping and asking us if we needed water or telling us we needed to give him water. Thank you, people; we have things under control.
.: With Austin, wrote the first draft of our wedding ceremony. If it ends up exactly how it is, I'll be happy. It's awesome.

2007-09-03T18:59:00.000-07:00

::NOW I KNOW::

Battered, bruised, bloodied, and triumphant, I arise from My First Week of School:

I never knew my feet could hurt that much and still function.
I never knew I had so much patience.
I never knew I could love a kid in the span of 35 hours.
I never knew the responsibility of teaching would be so scary.
I never knew complimenting a kid on how quietly he's working could feel so good.
I never knew that the admiration of 22 nine- and ten-year-olds would be such a driving force.
I never knew a kid's drawing of a crowned, flaming heart could impress me so much.
I never knew meeting a kid's parent would feel so familiar.
I never knew such a feeling of support among my coworkers.
I never knew teachers worked so damn hard.
I never knew what it was like to know my true calling.

2007-08-26T19:33:00.000-07:00

::IN TWELVE HOURS, THEY WILL BE BACK FROM P.E. ::

Tomorrow is the first day of school. I am scared, excited, nervous, and ecstatic all at once. It's the culmination of a process I started almost a year ago -- and I couldn't be prouder of myself. I didn't jump ship from the Museum; I took my time to find another, more suitable ship to swim to first.

I'm wondering what the kids'll think of me. I'm curious about what they'll tell their parents about me tomorrow night. I'm glad my classroom is ready.

Not everyone gets two chances to have a First Day of School. I am lucky that I do.

Austin: "C'mon, you know you'll be a rockstar."

Hell yes.

2007-08-15T19:28:00.000-07:00

::REASON 243 I'M MARRYING HIM::

While at Target, I was checking out bargains in the school suppy section, when I saw some Gel Gems-like window clings. They had phrases available in addition to the flowers and rockets and stuff, and the first one I saw was "THAT ROCKS!"

"Hmm, what else could I spell with those letters?" And I continue to look through them, finding "SHO NUFF!" and "WHATEVER." I give up, having found some cool dry erase markers. Moments pass. And then Austin pipes up:

"Well, you could spell scrota..."

2007-08-01T08:55:00.001-07:00

::GETTING THERE... ::

There comes a time in every young woman's life when she thinks, even for a fleeting moment, that she has arrived. I had one this morning, when I realized that my entire shower regimen was purple, some of it even rheoscopically coordinated:

Indigo to the Bathroom, originally uploaded by Iridesce.

2007-07-25T18:31:00.000-07:00

::LET DOWN AND HANGING AROUND::

I don't know what I was expecting -- paradise? Sublime relaxation? Renewed accomplishment? But these post-work days have been worse than anticlimax. They've been denoument after denoument. I'm more stressed now than I was before. Worried. Harried. Nonplussed. It wasn't what it was cracked up to be.

2007-07-22T15:37:00.000-07:00

::FINIS::

I am home from my last day of work at the Museum.

I go in tomorrow, but it's not work. It's mostly tying up any loose ends, cleaning up the rose shards I left on the Auditorium Stage when I broke a rose with liquid Nitrogen today, doing my exit interview, and participating in a going-away party for myself.

And taking some cotton candy sugar with me so I can see what it's like in my coffee.

2007-07-17T11:34:00.000-07:00

::LUNCH BREAK::

I'm in love with the Archer Farms (Super Target's store brand) TV frozen dinners. I had the Mango & Lime Glazed Tilapia with Toasted Coconut Couscous & Tropical Fruit Salsa today. Yum!

2007-07-16T11:39:00.000-07:00

::HAULS OF SCIENCE::

My awesome coworkers are putting together a goodbye party for me, and along with this party comes a request for donations for my parting gift!

I was asked today, "Not to spoil any surprises, but where would you want to buy supplies for your classroom?" and when I stammered, my coworker was like, "Well, are there maybe two places? Because seriously, you're going to get quite a haul! I mean, people like you."

I'm going to be working my butt off this week, so I won't really be able to process the thought that after Monday, I won't work there anymore. It'll all hit on Monday, and then I might break down. Hard core break down. Because there are people at the Museum who are wonderful. People I haven't even begun to think about missing. I need to draft a speech, and send g'bye emails, and I will not be dry-eyed (heh, probably because I will be utterly exhausted after this weekend).

But... I am totally cool with the spoiled surprise. Visa Debit Card it is!

2007-07-16T10:50:00.000-07:00

::SEVEN DOWN, EIGHT TO GO::

In my string of fifteen days in a row at the Museum, I'm almost halfway. The last day, though, will be fun and easy, so I can kind of not count it. So hey! Halfway!

Funny, I thought people were supposed to coast through their last weeks at a job...

2007-07-11T10:16:00.001-07:00

::DEEPLY DIPPY::

I am captivated by this video. I think it's Sulfur Hexachloride: Link.

(via Seed Daily Zeitgeist)

2007-07-04T21:05:00.000-07:00

::GIVES A WHOLE NEW MEANING TO "THE ALLSPARK" ::

I've seen spheres, cylinders, rings, and even smiley faces, but this year's NYC fireworks display featured cubic fireworks!

I haven't seen one in person, but on TV they looked grand as hell.

(In other news, re: the title of this post -- Transformers was worth seeing, but not fantastic. I loved the kid's parents, though. Even the effects weren't that great; maybe it's because Live Free or Die Hard knocked my socks off.)

2007-07-03T13:43:00.000-07:00

::IT WAS THE JOB WORTH LEAVING::

While I'm excited about starting my new job at The School, I'm also going to miss certain things about my job at the Museum.

I will, I just heard today, be able to do One Last Splash on Good Morning Texas.

Also, I just ordered $400 worth of throwies supplies.

And this kind of thing (which I call "Binney & Smith & Wesson") happens in the parking lot:

2007-07-02T16:39:00.000-07:00

::TILL DEFECATION DO US PART::

I'll just let this item speak for itself:

"Wedding Pills, designed by Ted Noten, are golden alternative wedding rings with a traditional inscription with the name of the loved one and the marriage date. They can be taken with a glass of vodka or other beverage. Because of the intimate process these pills undergo a fundamental question is laid bare: are we going to search for it or not, it may provoke the first marriage crisis. And with whom it agrees, the ritual can be repeated after each crisis – a nice reconciliation ritual."

(via Godawful Wedding Crap)

2007-06-29T16:27:00.001-07:00

::SURPRISINGLY PROUD::

My fiance has an iPhone!

2007-06-25T16:46:00.000-07:00

::CLEFT PALATE::

My mom bought The Canon: A Whirligig Tour of the Beautiful Basics of Science by Natalie Angier, a book I'd just read about and put on my reading list, for my dad for Father's Day. As she is wont to do, she bought the book featured with it on Amazon: Woman: An Intimate Geography, also by Natalie Angier. She gave it to me.

And, seriously, I have never relished a nonfiction book as I have this one. I'm in the middle of chapter three; I already recommend this book to everyone. It's written with such reverence and joviality, such detail and jocularity, that I know I'll need to read all of her books.

At least one sentence per page features a phrase-turn that makes me gasp, giggle, or grin.

For example:

"A phallus [symbol] doesn't give you much to play with, metaphorically, and it doesn't lend itself to multiple interpretations. A hose is a hose is a hose."

and

"Stationed at the outskirts of the genital habitat, the sebum acts as the first line of defense, the Great Wall of Vagina, to thwart disease organisms that seek to colonize the rich world within."

Read up.

2007-06-25T12:32:00.000-07:00

::DELETE DELETE DELETE::

My Inbox at work has one email in it.

My Sent Items folder is empty, sorted into appropriate files. (Most common sort-to? Trash.) Also, I have no Drafts.

I'm preparing a "Manifest(oh!)" that lists What I Do.

UPDATE: My Documents consists, now, of 12 folders and 2 spreadsheets which I'll delete when I leave.

2007-06-24T08:50:00.000-07:00

::QUICK READS::

As part of my new employment at what will heretofore be known as The School, I was given several books to read before August: Who Moved My Cheese? and Fish! (wow, I love punctuated book titles). I've read both in under half an hour each, while I did the cardio portions of my workout. They were more informative than I thought; I wish we'd been forced to read them at the Museum right after the merger.

2007-06-23T15:28:00.000-07:00

::POKE ME, MON! ::

Well, I've up 'n' created me a Facebook profile. Join in the fun; I'm still figuring it all out...

2007-06-22T07:23:00.000-07:00

::DON'T WORRY, IT'S NOT A PONCHO::

What a bizarre thing, that the next attempted trend for bridesmaids is capelets:

I bought a capelet in hot pink and black tweed about 3 years ago. I never wore it; it made it impossible to carry a purse, and nothing felt appropriate with it. I think they're darling in the right context, but in the woods, with a bridal party?

Worry not, Vanessa, Alisa, and Morgan! No capelets for you.

2007-06-21T14:01:00.000-07:00

::TO THE CHAGRIN OF LEPRECHAUNS EVERYWHERE::

Here's something I didn't know: due to the different refractive indices of salt water and pure water, rainbows don't connect at misty horizons: Link.

2007-06-18T13:43:00.000-07:00

::TWO HUNDRED EIGHTY-THREE::

Not as impressive as my TExES 4-8 Generalist Content exam, on which I achieved a scaled score of 299/300, but considering that 240 is passing, I'm satisfied with my TExES Pedagogy & Professional Responsibilities exam.

2007-06-18T08:56:00.000-07:00

::OW, INDEED::

I think the big wedding's back on. While it's not been my dream my whole life, it's been my mom's dream my whole life. And no amount of money is worth seeing my mom lose her dream and feel so defeated. To put it in the terminology of before, I know I'd probably regret disappointing my mom so much.

That, and what we planned was gonna be rad; 'twould've been a shame to see it cancelled.

Ongoing...

2007-06-16T12:30:00.000-07:00

::PROUD::

I just voted in the Dallas mayoral runoff election. At 1:15 PM, I was the 65th voter of the day.

Oh, and there was another Summer N. Smith in my voting district!

2007-06-14T19:36:00.000-07:00

::JANE HANCOCK::

Three important signatures for today: One on my TExES Pedagogy and Professional Responsibility exam, citing my allegiance to the Not Cheating team. One on my contract with the school district to be a fifth-grade teacher for the 2007-2008 school year. One on my pre-drafted resignation letter, to be handed in tomorrow.

2007-06-13T12:51:00.000-07:00

::PUTTING THE "OW" IN "VOW" ::

This weekend, my dad offered me a down payment on a home in lieu of a wedding.

All along, I've been gawking at the amounts of money that have/will have been spent, and I'm very glad to accept the option of a gift that will tangibly last years in our life as opposed to one that will fleetingly last about 8 hours. Last weekend on the plane to/from Hendersonville, I read Rebecca Mead's One Perfect Day: The Selling of the American Wedding. Anyone who has been, is, or will be engaged should read it. The book examines the cultural -- and especially the economic -- implications of weddings in America. Since they're no longer rites of passage from childhood into adulthood (I've lived away from home for 12 years, I'm financially independent, I'm decidedly not a virgin), they've been forced into this uniquely American experience wherein ridiculous amounts of money are spent on hugely elaborate weddings and receptions -- events which, steeped in tradition, are nevertheless forced to be expressions of individuality.

The thing is... I totally buy into it. I love poring over magazines, looking at wedding photos, and planning to party at a multi-thousand-dollar venue... But, what better way to have an expression of individuality than by jettisoning us from the Wedding Machine?

Then, when we got back, and I watched eight episodes of "Bridezillas," it helped me decide further. Such. Amazingly. Expensive. Days. Not houses. Days.

When my dad offered this, I didn't have a second thought (well, I did, it just kept being superseded by the first -- and better -- one). It boils down to this: I can definitely see myself regretting opting for a $25K wedding instead of the down payment. But I don't think I'd ever regret opting for the down payment. I will always remember my wedding day, regardless of the size of the party, the color of the light sticks (of course, there'll still be light sticks!), or the brand of champagne. I don't need it to cost a lot to mean a lot.

I would rather have something to hold than to simply have.

2007-06-12T20:27:00.000-07:00

::PRAISE YOU LIKE I SHOULD::

Rest in peace, Mr. Wizard.

I swear, that guy is responsible for a great deal of my personality.

(via Boing Boing)

2007-06-05T15:16:00.000-07:00

::MINDING MY MANORS::

What a great trip! In our Aveo (which ended our desire to reserve the cheapest car available because we usually get upgraded when they don't stock the shittiest cars), we made our way to our cottage on Lake Osceola in Hendersonville, then we went to the excellent downtown Asheville to meet my First Boyfriend Rob and his girlfriend for dinner.

I got my hair done, suffered through a couple of logistics-stress freakouts (though Austin suffered more, and I thank him always for being such a patient, awesome person), thoroughly enjoyed the rehearsal dinner, was silently stalked by geese, and spent way too much time waiting for planes to take off. But it was magical - beautiful, ancient, hilly, green, and mild.

Every trip I take out of town, be it Fayetteville, the Pacific Northwest, or California, further convinces me that I will not stay in Dallas long. These beautiful places? People live there! And we could, too!

Here's our photoset.

2007-05-30T21:45:00.000-07:00

::JUNE WEDDINGS, PART THE FIRST::

We leave tomorrow morning for Hendersonville, North Carolina, where my dear friend Alisa is getting married.

On the docket: scenic driving, dining with my first boyfriend ever, getting my hair, nails, and makeup done, reading Love Walked In, any bridesmaidly duties assigned, an outdoor wedding, a morning-after brunch, and some much-needed nothing.

2007-05-30T14:23:00.000-07:00

::FLIP DA SCRIPPS::

Today at lunch, I watched portions of the Scripps National Spelling Bee at Twisted Root Burger Company. Only since the volume was off, I followed the action via closed-captioning. They supplanted the spelling words with "[WORD]" in the captions. Multiple pronunciations were listed as "[WORD], [WORD], and [WORD]."

You know, so deaf people can't cheat.

It made for a great game: guess the word by the definition and language of origin! It would be a Spelling Eeb!

(Only on the way out the door did I realize that ESPN actually did list the words, down by the news ticker.)

2007-05-25T11:30:00.000-07:00

::CURIOSITIES::

From BoingBoing, I love the eBay auction of a San Quentin Prison Journal, but my favorite thing about it is the old method of taking simultaneous front and profile photos: they place the convict next to a 45^o-angled mirror:

2007-05-24T12:16:00.000-07:00

::POP CULTURE::

This remarkable photoset of people popping balloons at MakerFaire 2006 floods my body with joy. Seriously! Look at the faces of the balloon-popping people -- they range from afraid to goofy to reverent to ecstatic.

And then, defying description, there's the goatse one.

Also, I'm amazed at the rip patterns of (what I assume are) latex balloons. They tear in straight lines or in crosses, not in the all-over destruction-shear shapes I imagined, which were stunningly similar to what I remember of the end of the Death Star.

(via Dooce)

2007-05-22T10:01:00.000-07:00

::PILE ON::

In front of my building's exit to the parking lot, there's a four-foot, fluorescent orange traffic cone which reads CAUTION: WORKERS ABOVE. As soon as I open the door and exit, I look up, trying to glimpse the window washers in action and avoid getting dripped on.

Then I run into an identical traffic cone, placed in front of the door. I drop everything I have and nearly fall to my knees.

Thank god traffic cones are pliable.

2007-05-21T14:56:00.000-07:00

::HYPOTHESIS::

One of my pet peeves has been when people call Body Worlds "Body Works."

I just thought of this when I did a blog search for "Body Worlds" and then "Body Works" out of curiousity. All the top returns for the latter were for Bath & Body Works.

Do people call it the wrong thing because of a store that sells lotion and candles?

2007-05-17T19:09:00.000-07:00

::LWS::

Tonight we went to a Luxury Wedding Society event at Hotel ZaZa. Basically, it was a wine 'n' dine show with a dozen or so "luxury" wedding vendors. We got free beer and free Makers and Diet... And some great food and cupcakes... And a major case of feeling really poor.

Thanks to Lite Dallas, a vendor we're using for our wedding, for inviting us. 'Twas fun, though the gift bag left a little to be desired. All it was was advertisements, 'cept a heart-shaped tin of mints and a cheesy purple garter belt. But those were logoed, so it was all advertisements, I guess.

UPDATE: Here we are at the event! Don't we look poor?

2007-05-17T11:37:00.000-07:00

::WARD OF THE FLIES::

This will so be my favorite show of the season: Kid Nation, Wednesdays on CBS at 7:00 PM Central time.

2007-05-16T12:22:00.000-07:00

::MATHEMATICULINARY::

I have a huge Internet Crush on Jason Kottke. Fortunately for Austin, Jason's wife is fantastically cool, and I could never do that to her.

Anyway, she's averaged ingredient amounts in lots of chocolate chip cookie recipes to create A Mean Cookie.

2007-05-15T11:53:00.000-07:00

::I'VE BEEN GIBBERED! ::

Last night's concert at the Granada was the best I've seen this year. Austin and I went to see Ben Gibbard, lead singer for Death Cab for Cutie and The Postal Service (and occasional singer for DNTEL).

David Bazan, one of the opening acts, sang a lovely acoustic version of Radiohead's "Let Down," a song featuring blinky bips and the phrase "chemical reaction," which makes it a winner in my world.

The evening was like a gentle Death Cab concert, but with my other favorite stuff they never play, like "Such Great Heights" and "Brand New Colony." Plus, Ben singing Nirvana's "All Apologies," most of the words to which I could surprisingly recall.

I got a photo of the set list! Here's the menu:

Steadier Footing
We Will Become Silhouettes
Photobooth
Why You'd Want to Live Here
(This is) The Dream of Evan and Chan
Title and Registration
Crooked Teeth
You Remind Me of Home
We Looked Like Giants
Passenger Seat
Soul Meets Body
(a Squeeze song dedicated to Robin)
A Movie Script Ending
405
Brand New Colony
I Will Follow You Into the Dark
Blacking out the Friction
All Apologies
The Sound of Settling
Such Great Heights

The highlight of the evening was definitely Ben at the piano singing "Passenger Seat." It's my favorite song of Death Cab's; it'll be featured in the wedding:

Adding to the evening was the fact that I had very pleasant people surrounding me; usually, I hate humanity after I get out of concerts. But my balcony-mates were funny, friendly, and kind. Thanks, anonymous people!

And the Granada had Woodchuck Cider. That was fizzy perfection. Just like Ben.

2007-05-12T18:01:00.000-07:00

::HEARDOVER::

Our upstairs neighbor has a bullhorn. I've seen him use it to talk with stranded mortorists on the freeway, not 30 feet from his window.

Last night around 2:30 AM, we were finally headed to sleep after our return from College Station to see my cousin graduate. Only I hear a voice from above, whose I presume was my neighbor:

"Don't break into that vehicle. You are being surveilled."

It was great to hear the word "surveilled" in the middle of the night.

2007-05-11T04:09:00.001-07:00

::TICKET TO FRIGHT::

So last night, we decided to go see 28 Weeks Later at the midnight show. We went to The Grand, and the Box Office looked a little dark, so we went to the ticket-purchase kiosk and bought our tickets for today, May 11, at 12:05am. Check out what tickets spat out:

Stupid Inconsistency, originally uploaded by Iridesce.

I muttered, Napoleon Dynamite-style, "Idiots!" over and over until we got to the Cinemark at Webb Chapel, where we "also knew" there was a midnight show tonight. We got there just in time; we fetched coffee, and the previews started right when we sat down.

What followed (after the inspiring preview for Live Free Die Hard), was a 90-minute thrill ride. I loves me some zombies -- and this movie, of course, had plenty. I screamed, smashed Austin's knuckles in my hand, outright sobbed, and covered my eyes as the plot unfolded, Iraq War-like, before our eyes. If you liked 28 Days Later, you'll love this. It had your afraid-of-the-dark moments, your afraid-of-crowded-and-enclosed-spaces moments, and your afraid-of-zombies moments, prolonged, of course, throughout the whole film. It's even complete with my favorite scary location: a deserted amusement park. Woo.

I didn't need the coffee.

2007-05-10T19:19:00.000-07:00

::SLOW LIKE HONEYMOON::

The honeymoon dates and location have been locked in. We'll be heading to Lake Tahoe the Monday after our Saturday night wedding, staying at the Hyatt Regency Lake Tahoe Resort for five nights. Rad things about our plans:

.: We won't have a super-quick wedding-to-honeymoon turnaround.
.: No need for a passport with my maiden name.
.: The hotel has a pier into Lake Tahoe with a bar at the end of it.
.: And a fire pit.
.: And bike trails with bikes to rent.
.: And an Italian-Asian fusion restaurant called -- get this -- Ciao Mein Trattoria.
.: And a canal from the heated pool into an interior changing room, so I don't have to walk into cold air from the pool.
.: And a private beach.

I cannot wait.

2007-05-08T15:02:00.000-07:00

::KNOW WHAT I HATE? ::

When people find it easier to email you and ask you to re-send something rather than search their Inboxes to find it.

2007-05-03T19:28:00.000-07:00

::THIS ONE'S FOR ROMIE::

I just finished reading (read: gazing at) The Invention of Hugo Cabret, a richly-illustrated storybook by Brian Selznick about a boy who lives in the walls of a train station. Expect healthy doses of automata, Paris, train crashes, film, magic, time, artists, and family, should you read it (and you should).

The book is hardback, novel-sized, and full of pencil drawings and text by Selznik. The ratio of drawings-pages to text-pages is about 2:1.

Hugo waxes nostalgic about going to movies with his father, and thus it's self-referential; the whole thing is a storyboard, complete with black frames around each spread.

2007-05-02T12:34:00.000-07:00

::MY NEW BFF::

You know what I wish I'd discovered about, oh, ten years ago?

POWDER EYELINER.

I picked up a set at a hair and cosmetology show (don't ask) at the Convention Center last month, and my eyes haven't been the same. They're so... indelibly smoky. Like I've rimmed them with aerogel, except in shimmery grey, purple, blue, or brown.

2007-04-29T14:24:00.000-07:00

::HOW THE HECK THEY GOT CALL LETTERS BEGINNING WITH W INSTEAD OF K, IS WHAT I WANT TO KNOW::

There's a multi-story parking garage at the corner of Wood and Ervay downtown -- it blasts WRR 101.1 FM, the local classical station, through its speakers all day.

2007-04-27T17:19:00.000-07:00

::RELIEF::

I have been looking at a map of myself, from above. Even when I was in third grade, and thought for the first time about how others saw me, and how it was different from Who I Actually Was, I couldn't get away from seeing myself not from inside, but from above. And the light my consciousness shed on my map was from above, too. So I had a brash, seeing-it-all view. Every flaw. Every thought. Every crack and every moment.

A series of events over the past week have given me a new vantage point -- or at least a different light source.

Reassessing my career. Reconnecting with an ex, after -- gasp! -- almost a decade. Sitting in a minivan with a group of my mom's friends. Watching Short Bus.

I got the chance to see myself and place myself within a different context. It's like the light I shine on myself has been shifted, to their angle of view, and what I see is remarkable.

I've come to realize how unique I am. I'm not unique in that "everyone's unique" kind of way -- I have hills and valleys, I do have my own hobbies and interests and ways of saying things and opinions about stuff.

My uniqueness, though, is in a "more-than-two-standard-deviations unique" kind of way. I am utterly unique; my personality has spikes and crevasses and fjords (yay!) and shifting dunes. I am bizarre, and I love myself for it.

So now, I have my own light with which I assess my terrain. Plus I have lights of every frequency shining from the side, so I get this glorious interplay of subtractive glow and shimmery shadows. And as I change, these lights refract through me and help me know myself better. Brighter. Best.

2007-04-25T10:21:00.000-07:00

::THE BEGINNING OF AN ERA::

I took the job! Fifth Grade Teacher! Woo hoo!

2007-04-23T15:21:00.000-07:00

::DECISION, DECISION::

I'm about to make the biggest choice I've ever made regarding my career. It's not like I'm entirely changing gears (my heart will still jam to the same vocation) -- but it will be a huge change.

And a raise!

And the ability to take the summers off!

I'm about 95% decided by now.

2007-04-20T14:26:00.000-07:00

::THINGS YOU SHOULDN'T DO IF YOU WANT A LAUGH, BECAUSE TRUST ME, I KNOW::

.: Pull the whole "Bueller? ... Bueller?" thing in a room full of second-graders.

.: Pun to a dog.

.: When he says, "Here's some simple syrup," ask the waiter at a fancy restaurant, "Great... But do you have any complex syrup?"

2007-04-18T14:58:00.000-07:00

::I DID NOT HAVE CORRELATION WITH THAT WOMAN::

"We've noticed that customers who have expressed interest in Wartime Whiffs (Smelly Old History) by Mary Dobson have also ordered China: Fragile Superpower: How China's Internal Politics Could Derail Its Peaceful Rise by Susan L. Shirk."

Really? A scratch 'n' sniff book I bought for Sense of Smell Day is linked to this serious, "real book"?

Thanks, Amazon.

2007-04-18T14:24:00.000-07:00

::IT'S DISODIUM EDTA'S FAULT::

A propos of nothing (except maybe that I went to a Hair Show last weekend -- yeah, yeah, my mom thought it would be cool to scope wedding hairstyles, and it was really fun, actually -- and bought some Halo Shampoo for its packaging and geekiness):

Behold, the Kaye effect: Link.

2007-04-16T09:53:00.001-07:00

::DRAGON SKIN::

Austin's been talking about the new Natural Science and Engineering Laboratory at UTD forever -- he got to watch it being built last semester. When he showed it to me Saturday, and I let out a high-pitched sigh of awe, he knew he hadn't oversold it:

The curved walls are covered in foot-long square, layered tiles, which resemble iridescent scales. They turn green, blue, purple, even red depending on the angle of view. I love the way this looks:

Here's my photoset from our excursion.

2007-04-13T04:41:00.000-07:00

::IT'S RAINING MEMS::

Look! Thanks to some French scientists, plastic sheets fold into little shapes on their own as water droplets evaporate off of them. Don't you love that auto-origami exists on such a small scale? Or, indeed, that it exists at all?

And here's a video of the pyramid doin' its thang: Link.

(via Kottke)

2007-04-12T07:06:00.000-07:00

::WHO IS SOFTLY ECOLOGICAL BABY GALT? ::

Hear that?

It's Ayn Rand rolling over in her grave.

2007-04-09T13:04:00.000-07:00

::WHY, I'M HOT::

I've laughed to myself - and to others - about this every time I hear it on the radio, but this takes it about seven steps further: the logical intricacies of "This Is Why I'm Hot" by Mims.

2007-04-09T10:00:00.000-07:00

::BOOK 'EM::

I saw Stranger than Fiction last night, and my thoughts during the end credits (well, beyond, I love these end credits!) were, I want to see more films about writing books.

Any recommendations? I adored Adaptation, too.

2007-04-06T16:21:00.000-07:00

::JUST MY TYPOGRAPHY::

A while ago, I fell in love with a typeface I saw in Condé Nast Traveler (I got a free subscription when I subscribed to the paper). So I wrote their editor:

SUBJECT: Typeface Identification

I'd love to know the mixed-case typeface used in the article "Sleeping Beauty" (March 2007). I love it and would like to buy it! Please tell me you didn't cobble it together from one font on your own! Thanks so much!

In less than two days, Brook Wilkinson, Associate Consumer News Editor, wrote back:

Hi Summer. That typeface is filosophia [sic] unicase. It’s an emegre font. Hope this helps!

Thanks, Brook, that helped immensely! The online font identifier I tried, though reallyreally cool, didn't identify it.

So, without further ado, here's Filosofia Unicase.

This is so going into wedding materials.

2007-04-04T20:00:00.000-07:00

::PERPLEXICON::

April is National Poetry Month, and the Academy of American Poets will send you daily poetry when you join their Poem-a-Day mailing list (you know you need it: go).

Today's poem resonated with me, profoundly:

Language
by W. S. Merwin

Certain words now in our knowledge we will not use again, and we will never forget them. We need them. Like the back of the picture. Like our marrow, and the color in our veins. We shine the lantern of our sleep on them, to make sure, and there they are, trembling already for the day of witness. They will be buried with us, and rise with the rest.

2007-04-01T18:04:00.000-07:00

::HITCHING A CENTURION::

Thursday night, Austin and I went to Design Within Reach for an "alternative transportation" event. They featured Biomega bikes (which Austin covets fiercely), and new Airstream trailers. One of them, the Basecamp, made me grin:

How else would a Cylon on your tail be a good thing?

2007-03-28T12:54:00.000-07:00

::DOUBLE HAPPINESS::

Deep-fried origami cranes made of wonton paper.

(via Kottke)

2007-03-25T05:56:00.000-07:00

::NOT USUALLY SOMETHING I'D DO, BUT JEEZ, THESE THINGS ARE SOMETIMES UNCANNY::

2007-03-24T10:53:00.000-07:00

::FIVE PEOPLE ABSENT FROM FIFTH GRADE THE DAY THEY INTRODUCED DECIMAL PLACES::

The other night while we were walking Oscar, Austin told me about this phone call he listened to online - it was a guy who'd been quoted (twice) the rate for Canada mobile data use as 0.002 cents per kilobyte. He gets charged $0.002/kB instead, and his customer service call is half an hour of basic math lessons. I told Austin, "That's funny - don't think I need to listen to it, though!" But ten minutes later, he'd started playing it, and I couldn't rip my ears away.

Listen to this. Wow.

2007-03-23T09:24:00.000-07:00

::STAR SIGHTINGS::

I was two feet away from Ron Livingston and Melissa George this morning at WFAA when I did my stint on Good Morning Texas. Look, here I am in bold!

And I ate at Craft afterwards, and Sydney Pollack was there!

P.S. After I finished, the GMT producer offered me a cubicle; guess they like my style. One of the crew: "You're perfect on television - you are really into everything, you know how to act, and you really are genuine." God, I want to be on TV for a living.

2007-03-22T14:57:00.000-07:00

::I DON'T MIND IT AT ALL WHEN I'M HAVING A BALL::

Holy awesome crap: It looks like The Flaming Lips' Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots will be a musical! Take it away, Wayne Coyne!

"There's the real world and then there's this fantastical world. This girl, the Yoshimi character, is dying of something. And these two guys are battling to come visit her in the hospital. And as one of the boyfriends envisions trying to save the girl, he enters this other dimension where Yoshimi is this Japanese warrior and the pink robots are an incarnation of her disease. It's almost like the disease has to win in order for her soul to survive. Or something like that."

I haven't been too into the Broadway thing for years, but now I have my way back in.

And I know what I'm listening to when I get home tonight.

(via SWRU)

2007-03-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

::SECRETLY, I WANT TO IMPRESS CUBBY BROCCOLI::

Another visceral reaction to jewelry...

Kyeok Kim's Aurora jewelry makes me glad to be human. Seriously. Jewelry that projects onto the skin. I love it.

(via MoCo Loco)

2007-03-18T15:23:00.000-07:00

::INSPIRED BY STUFFED PORK CHOPS AT THE DEEP ELLUM CAFE::

Austin, Oscar, and I went on an impromptu camping trip yesterday, to Cedar Hill State Park. We made silver turtles -- you know, the foil-wrapped meat-and-vegetable camping treat -- and we created the best camp dish ever: Pork chops with gorgonzola cheese, currants, and jalapeños.

Austin's s'mores made with Samoas Girl Scout Cookies ran a close second.

2007-03-16T12:22:00.000-07:00

::FILLING IN THE OVALS WITH A #2 PENCIL::

After weeks of obsessive click-throughs to check whether scores were posted, my results on the TExES 4-8 Generalist Content Exam are in my ~~hands~~ inbox.

Scaled scores range from 100-300. Passing is 240.

I scored 299.

I missed 4 questions on the entire exam -- all 120 questions of it. All the ones I missed were in the English Language Arts and Reading section. I scored perfectly in Mathematics, Science, and Social Studies (the latter of which surprises the hell out of me).

So now. Now is when I'm not only hireable, but officially probationarily certified. Keep feelers out for jobs for me, folks -- I'm going to my first job fair in a week!

Celebration time.

2007-03-15T20:43:00.000-07:00

::TRICENTENNIAL::

So, yeah, um, 300. I saw it in IMAX on Sunday. Dorky script. Crippled acting. But that's not one goes to see that film for.

You go for the spectacle. For the warm, artificial glory. For the costumes. For the blood that looks like fairy dust, slow-motion and disappearing. For the sheer sexiness. For the glowing skies. For the nipples. Wow, the nipples.

2007-03-14T04:36:00.000-07:00

::THE WEDDING PARTY::

I think it'd be cool to have the entire wedding party wear these. Would it look too cankle-inducing on the ladies? Too shiny on the men? Maybe I'll just wear them. I want to be comfortable, and my dress will be full enough that people who firmly believe that Brides Should Wear Fancy Uncomfortable Shoes will never know.

2007-03-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

::PAGING MATTHEW BARNEY::

Awesome. A Goo Fountain.

2007-03-06T11:48:00.000-08:00

::SCHLITTER GONE::

Well, now I know what'll go in my kid's nursery: Ben Schlitter's artwork.

(via Dooce sidebar)

2007-03-04T19:43:00.000-08:00

::IT TOOK ME TWENTY-NINE YEARS TO REALIZE THIS::

You know, it really shouldn't be called the roof of your mouth, because it's actually the ceiling.

2007-03-02T11:06:00.003-08:00

::DEWEY AIN'T GOT NOTHIN' ON BIV::

Austin, when we move, I'm going to have to do this:

bookshelf, originally uploaded by chotda.

I'm sorry. It will take many hours, and much frustration for you when you try to find a book, but it's the way it's going to be.

I remember my books by what their spines look like.

(via Apartment Therapy)

2007-02-27T20:21:00.000-08:00

::ALL WE WERE MISSING WAS THE SPICE::

Saturday, due to 50-mile-per-hour winds, Dallas suffered a crazy, sky-altering dust storm. Austin and I walked directly from the theater (we'd just seen Reno 911: Miami) into the parking lot. Wow, I thought, my eyes aren't adjusting like they usually do. That was because the sky was ruddy with west Texas dust!

Ever the "capture odd sky phenomena" rangers, we headed directly to the roof of a building in east Deep Ellum to take some pictures. We couldn't believe what we saw; the air was Martian:

And I don't know whether it was a filtration done by the dust or simply a color-opposition eye trick, but while the sun was russet-colored, the sunlight appeared somehow bluish.

Here I am on Mars:

And here's the view of downtown from the rooftop:

You can see more of our photos here and here.

2007-02-26T07:44:00.000-08:00

::SEQUITUR::

From my Physics Web alert comes news of "chemical origami" in which a circular gel disc treated with monomer solution gets heated and forms into selected forms: Link.

Three clicks later, I'm looking at the best window drapes in the universe. They're by Hannah Allijn, and they emphasize the link between 2-D and 3-D quite nicely as well:

(via Design Sponge)

2007-02-25T13:08:00.000-08:00

::PUNS ON THE WORD "STOOL"::

Dude, try this. Seriously.

It actually made a difference in my BM experience. (I figured out a couple of weeks ago that leaning to the left also helps.)

(via Kottke)

2007-02-23T10:25:00.000-08:00

::BANG ON::

Ooh, the next time I go to a formal affair for which I need a clutch purse (because, dude, when else do you ever need a clutch?), I'm totally going for this one.

2007-02-19T09:49:00.000-08:00

::THE ART OF CRAFT::

Last night, my nuclear family, Austin, and I went to Craft, the restaurant at the W Hotel. The courses that follow were probably the best meal we ever had. It was all served family-style; we each had a few bites of everything (even, yes, the mushrooms).

My favorite dishes? The best gnocchi I've ever had, and I have a new favorite dessert... Crème fraîche panna cotta.

Here's the set list:

COCKTAIL

Blood Orange Mojito

FIRST COURSES

Fish & Shellfish
Raw
Yellowfin Tuna

Meat
Roasted
Foie Gras

Salad
Sugar Snap & Hearts of Palm

MAIN COURSES

Fish & Shellfish
Roasted
Atlantic Skate Wing
Tasmanian Sea Trout

Meat
Roasted
Texas Farm Chicken
Braised
Beef Short Rib

SIDE DISHES

Vegetables
Roasted
Salsify
Sautéed
Broccoli Rabe
Gratin
Sweet Potato

Mushrooms
Roasted
Assortment (Abalone, Baby Shiitake, Hen of the Woods, Trompette Royale)
potatoes
Gnocchi
Pasta, Grains, & Beans
Rock Shrimp & Roasted Garlic Risotto

DESSERTS

Pastry & Custard
Beignets
Créme Fraiche Panna Cotta
Pistachio Truffle Brioche
Chocolate Mocha Torte

Ice Cream & Sorbet
Assortment (Buttered Pecan, Vanilla Malt, Cinnamon, Cocoa Nub Ice Creams; Citrus Passion Fruit, Pomegranate, Pineapple, Coconut Sorbets)

Valentine

2007-02-14T10:35:00.000-08:00

::SO MUCH::

There's an infinity of reasons why I love you.

I collect those reasons like stamps. I loop them bass beats. I save them like data. I gather them -- no, I inhale them -- like flowers.

All of them gather in a cacophonous vortex of happiness today. Happy Valentine's Day, my future husband.

I am already your wife.

Fit to Print

2007-02-09T19:53:00.000-08:00

::Fit to Print::

I made the front page of a newspaper!

(Well, a newspaper section that only ran in certain neighborhoods... But I've got to start somewhere!)