One of the best things about having a baby is being reintroduced to the common, the everyday, the small-yet-powerful parts of this world I’m forever taking for granted. As a newborn, we shielded Sophie from the wind. This weekend, at Pilot Mountain State Park, we let her really feel wind for the first time. She held up her face to it, blinked her eyes and smiled and smiled and smiled …
“The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind. The answer is blowin’ in the wind.” —Bob Dylan
Every night, after we change her diaper and put her pajamas on, after she’s been nursed and after she’s been read her bedtime story, we recite this poem, by Karla Kuskin:
Wordless words.
A tuneless tune.
Blow out the sun.
Draw down the shade.
Turn off the dog.
Snap on the stars.
Unwrap the moon.
Wish leafy, sleeping trees good night
and listen
to the day shut tight.
“Your prayer can be poetry, and poetry can be your prayer.” —Noelani Day
“A baby is born with a need to be loved—and never outgrows it.” —Frank A. Clark
Yesterday Tucker and I had a rough day. Tucker kept whining and I kept crying. So Mom, exasperated (which is a word she used but I’m not sure what it means), decided a change of scenery was in order and she made us all go into the kitchen.
I got a kick out of Mom showing me all the kitchen utensils and explaining what they’re used for, and Tucker liked sleeping on the cool kitchen floor. So Mom took advantage of the peace and quiet and, although she said something about how she should be doing freelance work, made cookies.
“Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o’clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap.” —Barbara Jordan
This past weekend Sophie and Andy had a lot of bonding time as I
went to Aimee’s bachelorette party,
attended her wedding shower and
went to Rebecca’s baby shower.
All three of us went to Angel and Marty’s fabulous summer party, where Angel officially announced her good news:
Sophie did a great job taking her bottles from Andy and I think spending so much time away from her was good for all of us. Friday night I felt practically giddy all dressed up, ready for a night out with some of my best girlfriends. And I had a great time. But a little after midnight I remember looking around Longworth’s in Mt. Adams and feeling, well, old. I’m not old, by any means, and I know that. But most of the women there, adorably dressed in fun summer dresses and high, high heels, drunk off of music, dancing and alcohol, were probably in their early 20s. They were probably working their first jobs, living with roommates in bad apartments in great locations and they probably didn’t have a baby waiting at home for them. I suddenly felt very much out of place, awkward and amused that I have become one of those people who enjoys staying in with a good movie, a glass of wine and the people I love most.
That said, the bachelorette party was a blast and I’m so thankful my co-maid of honor, Shruti, was able to fly in from Houston to celebrate with us. And I loved the fact that at the end of the night, we weren’t dancing in a bar. Rather we were on a street, and we were leaning against a fence overlooking an amazing view of Cincinnati, and we were just talking. For the bride-to-be, Aimee, it was perfectly fitting.
“Never be the first to arrive at a party or the last to go home, and never, ever be both.” —David Brown
Last week Sophie got her first taste of school while I helped my mom set up her kindergarten classroom. She played with her toys while I worked on the calendar, sat on my lap while I organized crayons and tried to eat the smelly stickers. She was a huge hit in the front office (I think Nini enjoyed showing her off). After setting up the room we met Grandpa for lunch at The Original Pancake House (yum).
“The Universe is one great kindergarten for man. Everything that exists has brought with it its own peculiar lesson.” —Orison Swett Marden
Last week, after lunch, Tari and I walked our sleepy girls across The Purple People Bridge. It was a typical August day—hot and sunny—and I worried about keeping Sophie shaded the entire time. Unfortunately, I didn’t worry enough about myself and ended up with a terrible sunburn. (Sophie was fine.) Still, we had a good time.
“I never expected to see the day when girls would get sunburned in the places they now do.” —Will Rogers
Guess what? A second ago I was on my stomach. And now I’m on my back! Mom didn’t help me at all. She did, however, seem awfully excited. Then she took this picture.
“‘What is he doing?’ the four little puppies asked one another. And down they went to see, roly-poly, pell-mell, tumble-bumble, till they came to the green grass.” —Janette Sebring Lowrey, The Poky Little Puppy
Before Sophie was born I envisioned her nursery as a simple one—lots of books, some wooden blocks and maybe a few dolls. I vowed never to live in a house where, upon entering, you immediately knew a baby lived there. I didn’t want brightly colored plastic to be my conversation pieces. I wanted our handmade and carefully purchased furniture to always stand out. I wanted the pottery given to us as gifts, the oil painting we purchased in Venice, the print we bought at Summerfair, my many books and our many photographs to be what people noticed and talked about, to be what we first saw after a long day away from home.
Oh how things change.
I blame many things. Baby books. Well-meaning friends. Craigslist. And most recently, our pediatrician. He “highly recommended” an ExerSaucer. He said Sophie was “the perfect age.” He went on and on about “skill building” and “motor development” and how it’s great for when I need to do something, like eat. I left the appointment, got in the car and immediately called Andy. “We have to buy an ExerSaucer,” I said. “Now.” (I’ve since wondered if our pediatrician is getting paid by Evenflo on the side.)
Once home, I looked up ExerSaucers on Consumer Reports. The highest rated one cost $100. Ouch. So I got on Craigslist and found one purchased last fall for $25. Andy picked it up on his way home from work and once home, I cleaned it. And now it sits in our living room, in front of a bookshelf I built, blocking the vase from Andy’s mom, a framed picture of us sea kayaking in Costa Rica, a hand-turned wooden vase from a former editor and antique books. But Sophie loves it. And although I’ll always love my pretty, grown-up things, lately, it’s her things that make me smile whenever I walk in the front door. It’s funny how aesthetics change.
“It’s amazing how much a few pieces of plastic and paper will sell for if the purchasers are parents or grandparents.” —Lawrence Kutner
My uncle has grown blackberries for 20 years. Since 2002, he has made and sold blackberry jam. I’ve always wanted to know how to make jam, so this year I helped. Here’s a photo essay:
We took a break and, while listening to the ping of the jam jars setting, we enjoyed my grandma’s delicious blackberry cobbler. They still had more jam to make. I had to head to my parents’ house to pick up Sophie, where she had fun day with Nini.
“It is as healthy to enjoy sentiment as to enjoy jam.” —Gilbert K. Chesterton
