fine dining

We found this table at a garage sale down the street. baby-j loves to sit at it and draw nowadays. He'll also have the occasional fake meal here. Here he is having tea with froggy.

And this shot was taken a few minutes later.

housiversary

One year ago today, P and I closed on our first house. We didn't move in until about a month later, but we've owned this house now for a year. A year! It goes so fast.

This picture was taken that day: March 24, 2006. I found it in my Kodak photo album with all the pictures from that day. I'm somewhat amazed by how much work we've done on the house. It certainly needs a lot more, but I would have completely forgotten how much we've done if we hadn't decided to run around the house and take lots of pictures of the vacant rooms and bare floors.

Baby-j looks so small here; he was only 7 months old then. Before having baby-j, I didn't quite understand why people referred to the age of small children in months, rather than in years and half-years. Part of the reason, of course, is to have space to mark the developmental milestones that occur in a child's life: first smile, first roll, first laugh, first crawl, first steps, first word. But there's something about marking time in months that slows the time, even a bit. Because when they hit a year, you can't quite believe it's only been a year, since those months added up so quickly and without your quite noticing, and your son has grown so very much.

I have my own litany of which baby-j is a part, and it's something like this: first apartment together, first car, first baby, first house. P and I have had 4 of the first, 5 of the second. I can't count higher than 1 yet for the last two.

...a new car!

Without this blog as a record, I wouldn't have realized that exactly one month after P and I debated the virtues of our respective automobiles, we decided to get a new one (well, new to us, anyway). We'll be doing a lot of driving this year, so we wanted something more reliable for my commute and for the family car, and so we got this:

It's a 2005 Ford Focus station wagon. I've wanted something with a hatch in the back ever since my (ok, my in-laws') Honda Civic died on us in 2000. I loved the idea of getting back to the Civic, and since a Honda is out of our price range and parts of it are too likely to be stolen, I've had my eye on the Ford Focus 5-door for a few years now. Add a kid to the equation, and our needs expanded the dream to station-wagon-length. However, its rear is still pretty cute: see?

This baby is supposed to get 32 miles per gallon on the highway, which--with my commute--is where it's mostly driven.

So let's gas 'er up and crank up the NPR.

book club

I recently sent along a letter from my friend M to continue an "informal book club." I was asked to send the letter to 6 people, who would in turn send the letter to 6 people each, and each of those people is supposed to send me a book. The idea is that each person only mails one book back up the chain, but gets 36 books total from the 6x6 people to whom he/she sent the letter.

Sound confusing? Well, the point is that I am supposed to have 36 books arriving in the mail, and I'm really interested to see what I get. I'm going to keep updating this page as a way to keep track... and to see how many of the 36 I get.

This week, I got 3:

1. Persuasion, Jane Austen
I love that I got this! I was/am a huge Austen fan, and Persuasion was always my favorite. I haven't read it in at least 10 years, though, so I'll have to add this one to my summer reading list.

2. Empire Falls, Richard Russo
I read this already a few years ago... loved it, though nothing can compare to Russo's Straight Man. I need to re-read that this summer.

3. Shopgirl, Steve Martin
I haven't read this one, but I'm definitely interested. And the person who sent this gave me the audio CD, which is GREAT for my long commute. Plus, Martin narrates it. (I've discovered that nothing kills the audio book experience faster than a crappy reader. Just "read" the audio version of The DaVinci Code and you'll see what I mean. Of course, it might not have been the recording on that one. Maybe I would have been eye-rolling at the book in print had I read it that way.)

March 16:
4. Moo, Jane Smiley
Ok--not only have I read Moo, but it was the book that I sent back the chain to the person on the back of my letter. Too funny. Well, I guess I got it back! :) P and I are starting to wonder about the kinds of books I'm getting. It may well be that I read the same things as the people to whom I sent the initial letter, and they read the same things as the friends to whom they sent the letter.

March 22:
5. Daughters of Copper Woman, Anne Cameron
I haven't read this yet, but am looking forward to it after checking out its Amazon page.

Sometime at the end of March:
6. Stones from the River, Ursula Hegi

7. The Westing Game, Ellen Raskin
I started to read this during my conference trip to Chicago and I am really enjoying it. Thanks, J! Now I need to find some time to finish it. So much fun.

So far I have 7/36 books, which is many more than I thought I'd get. Whoo-hoo!

towhead

Check out the hair on baby-j: it's coming in fast! It's probably not fast enough for him, though. He has total hair-envy when he sees other kids. He wants to grab it, run it through his fingers, smell it, yank it... oh wait, he's made the kid cry. We're working on that. Soon he will have hair of his own to brush, which will be a very good thing, because baby-j's way of wielding a hairbrush is a bit frightening.

baby-j's treadmill

I took this video last week of baby-j dancing on the "boot box." Actually, I think it was initially intended to store quilts and linens, but it's a perfect surface on which to bounce, as baby-j will demonstrate for you here.

ABD

Finally: I (successfully!) defended my dissertation proposal today (and even enjoyed it!). I've gone through one more hoop on the way to my doctorate. Now I "just" have the dissertation itself to write.

So it's official: I am ABD. My friend M forwarded me the All-But-Dissertation Survival Guide site a few years back and I took a look, thinking how nice it would be to even be considered "ABD." It feels a long time coming. I was realizing today as I roamed the campus that it's been 10 years since I began my M.A.

I like the picture on the top of that Web site, that guy on the mountain. He's all like, I finished my dissertation. And then he's all like, I think I'll wear capri pants because I'm done with my dissertation. And then he's like, I'll stretch my arms up real high, like this. And I'm all like, You go, Mr. Guy On Top Of The Mountain.

howdy pard-ner

baby-j has taken to flinging P’s belt all over the living room and kitchen, and he seems to enjoy it when I wrap it around his waist twice. The look is especially nice over pajamas, as seen here. I also have many of him wearing this belt with just a onesie, which I’m sure will go in his category of “Embarassing Pictures That Mom Took Of Me Before I Was Old Enough To Know To Run Away."

New words for baby-j include “tiger,” “oh man,” and “aye-yai-yai.” (I guess I’ve been saying the last two a bit too much lately.) “Cow” was the big word this morning. (“Cow. Cow.” “What does the cow say, baby-j?” “Cow. Cow.” “What about the sheep, baby-j? Aren’t those nice?” “Cow. Cow.”) The big word tonight was “door.” He’s had this one down for a while, but tonight it meant “I am going to close the door on you and you cannot come in.” Lately baby-j’s been spending the first part of the night on a mattress on the floor of his room, which is connected to ours (he can’t get to his room without going through ours) and he’s starting to take ownership over it. Hence, this use of the word “door.”

I started to get panicky that he was already--at 18 months!--closing me out of his room. Outside the door, I went through various stages: Oh, he doesn’t want me around any more. Then, Well, it’s a natural part of growing up. Then, You know, I guess I’m proud of him. After about 15 minutes of “Door. Door. Door,” he permitted me to enter, at which point I realized what he was doing in there, which had less to do with his growing up and more to do with his sitting down. And he had just taken a bath, too. Ah well.