I recently went on a whirlwind solo trip to Fort Worth, TX for Justin and Jenny’s beautiful wedding.
I missed Sophie (and Andy) but did enjoy being able to stay in the sanctuary long enough to see the kiss!
Then to the historic Hilton Fort Worth for the reception …
with lots of friends …
and lots of dancing.
Congratulations, Justin and Jenny! It was a wonderful evening—may your lives be filled with many more.
“Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words.” —Titus Maccius Plautus
“It’s all to do with the training: You can do a lot if you’re properly trained.” —Queen Elizabeth II
I was rearranging books on our bookshelf the other day when a folded piece of paper towel floated to the ground. In it was a pressed white rose. It took me a moment but then I remembered—I had saved one of Sophie’s roses from the dozen Andy brought home for her when she was only about a month old and pressed it between books so that she may have it always. I was happy to have found it.
“You are responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose.” —Antoine de Saint-Exupery
A couple weekends ago we drove all the way to Milwaukee for a wedding. I was pretty annoyed with the drive by the time we reached Chicago, so Mom and Dad took an exit and, as luck would have it, found a park!
Dad was very cold.
I sat in a train with Mom.
And dug dirt with Dad. And then we got back in the car. I was. not. happy. about. that.
Finally, we got to the hotel. There were chandeliers everywhere! It was definitely the fanciest place I’ve ever been to in my whole life.
Even the bed was fancy.
And check out the view from our room!
That night, while Dad was rehearsing, I found the church’s stash of children’s books and toys.
Then I got to eat yummy food while …
Mom and Dad caught up with good friends. (That’s Joe, the groom-to-be, in the middle and Matt on the right.)
Always with the family pictures!
I loved hiding underneath this table …
and letting Mom carry me to bed after having fallen asleep on the car ride back to our hotel.
The next morning I ran all around the hotel room like a crazy woman in my turtleneck, diaper, socks and toilet-paper shawl. It was quite fun.
Then I had to sit very, very quietly for the wedding.
Thankfully friends sat behind Mom and me. There may have been an incident involving my Goldfish crackers and Mom forgetting to put my snack lid back on. (Sarah and John, in particular, are super-good at collecting Goldfish crackers scattered on and under pews in church while a wedding ceremony is going on.) Mom took me out of the sanctuary shortly thereafter.
And if you’re looking to create a setting that feels both luxurious and personal, my experience planning our celebration at Mandolay Hotel, an elegant Guildford wedding venue with exceptional service and style was nothing short of magical. The venue team went above and beyond to ensure every detail reflected our personalities, from the ceremony decor to the evening lighting. Guests were blown away by the seamless flow of the day, and the bespoke menu options were still being talked about weeks later. There’s a quiet confidence in choosing a place that marries charm with professional coordination, and this location truly delivers. If you’re looking for a wedding venue Randolph County, call Williams Place Venue. If you’re looking for wedding photographers Richmond, contact Ashley Virginia Photography. And if you’re looking for an engagement ring, then this lab grown solitaire ring comes in a wide range of styles and cuts to suit every taste.
If you are planning a wedding proposal, you may Design Your Dream Engagement Ring in Brisbane to create a unique and stylish ring for future fiancé. You may also consider couples counseling before marriage to help you prepare for your married life.
I don’t know why this picture is such a big deal.
After the ceremony we went to the beautiful Wisconsin Club for the reception.
Mom held me up so I could look out the window and watch Dad get his picture taken.
I so desperately wanted down, down, down during cocktail hour so all of Mom and Dad’s friends formed a circle and I stood in the middle of it—and stomped in front of people’s feet.
We matched! (Not on purpose, though. Mom was able to re-wear the dress she wore in Aimee’s wedding! Although she had to get it altered. Something about not nursing me anymore …)
Seriously, always with the family pictures! I refuse to smile for family pictures. If you’re looking for wedding photographers Cape Cod, you may contact Kelly Dillon Photography.
My favorite place to hang out at the reception? The Ladies’ Restroom. It was lovely. There was a sitting room and a small, carpeted ramp perfect for running up and down on. And there were all these girls hanging out in there. We all became fast friends. Mom said several times how much she appreciated the fact that she was spending all her time at the reception in the Ladies’ Restroom. What can I say? I aim to please.
Even though I loved the Ladies’ Restroom, I have to admit, the dining area was quite beautiful.
As were the flowers.
There was lots of silverware to play with.
The beautiful bride and groom!
Girls.
Boys.
After we ate (Dad couldn’t stop raving how good the food was—steak and halibut) we danced and danced to the nine-piece band. I did not like being put down on the dance floor so Mom and Dad took turns holding me. Then, I fell asleep. Mom took me back to the hotel room while Dad stayed out with friends.
It was such a fun weekend. Congratulations, Elizabeth and Joe! Thanks for inviting us!
“After all there is something about a wedding-gown prettier than in any other gown in the world.” —Douglas William Jerrold
We recently had a slightly chaotic dinner (but with good company) on an early Saturday evening at Red Robin. Apparently Red Robin is the place to take your kids for early Saturday dinners out. It was crazy, but fun.
“The other night I ate at a real nice family restaurant. Every table had an argument going.” —George Carlin
This week there was a package on our front porch. And it was for me! Look what I got!
When I am grown to man’s estate
I shall be very proud and great,
And tell the other girls and boys
Not to meddle with my toys.
—Robert Louis Stevenson
I collect antique tea cups. This summer, while visiting Newport, Rhode Island, I bought this “Votes for Women” cup and saucer. It’s a replica from the estate of Alva Vanderbilt Belmont. Starting in 1909, after forming the Political Equality League, she held Suffrage Dinners at Marble Palace to raise funds for the Suffrage movement. Dinners were served on this china, made by John Maddock and Son.
I don’t keep this cup and saucer with my others, in part because it’s not antique and, in part, because I like it on the windowsill, above my kitchen sink.
I love that I’m able to stay home with Sophie. We’ve given up a lot to make that happen. And honestly, financially, it makes sense. Working as a managing editor and paying for daycare is, sadly, about equal to my staying home and freelancing, purely from a financial standpoint. Still, it’s been an adjustment—a huge adjustment—an adjustment I’m still still dealing with.
Beginning in high school I’ve worked. I’ve babysat. I’ve waited tables. I’ve stocked lipstick in the middle of the night. I’ve sold glow-in-the-dark necklaces at a theme park. I’ve called college alumni asking for money. I’ve worked in college dining halls. I’ve interned. I’ve written articles. I’ve edited magazines. I’ve managed magazines. I’ve been required to show up somewhere at a particular time wearing a particular outfit with like-minded adults for most of my life. When I was a little girl, I remember constantly being asked, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” (My answer then was Vanna White.) I, perhaps wrongly, viewed education as a means to a job, not a means to personal growth. Work, largely, defined me. It was a huge part of who I was and, in many ways, who I am.
I realize I’m lucky. Personally, I consider my work now considerably more difficult—yet also considerably more rewarding—than any other job I’ve held in the past. And if given the option I wouldn’t change a thing. But yet. I still sometimes long for adult interaction. I long for the opportunity to carry a leather purse and wear high heels. I long for the immense gratification that comes with seeing a project through to completion. I long for someone more experienced than me occasionally looking over my shoulder, marking my work in red or, better yet, saying “Good job.”
But then I think about what I would miss. The chance to interact with my daughter on a daily basis. The ability to wear jeans and a T-shirt, makeup optional. The gratification of seeing Sophie succeed—and seeing my own successes as a mother—as she grows. And although she’s not more experienced than me, she lets me know when I’ve screwed up (think tantrum as a result of a missed nap time). But she also lets me know when I’ve succeeded (think squeals of laughter or my watching, in amazement, as she says “Mama kiss” and leans forward to kiss me).
I struggle most while doing the mundane—dirty laundry, dusting, dishes. Although, I must admit, some chores I once thought mundane have become enjoyable—hanging laundry on the clothesline on a beautiful summer day, successfully tackling a new recipe, folding impossibly small socks.
Years ago I honestly think I would have been appalled at the suggestion that I would be a stay-at-home, or, perhaps more accurately, a work-at-home mom. But I learned something surprising (to me) in the many women’s studies classes I took in college. Feminism isn’t about having a career. It’s about having a choice. Ms. Belmont wasn’t fighting for women to have to vote, rather for women to have the choice to vote. It’s about being able to admire the working mother and the working father and the work-at-home mother and the work-at-home father and the stay-at-home mother and the stay-at-home father equally.
And so my “Votes for Women” tea cup sits on my windowsill above my sink as a reminder, while I’m doing the mundane task of washing dishes, of the fantastic fact that because of Ms. Belmont and Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott and Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Blackwell and Amelia Jenks Bloomer and Carrie Chapman Catt and Kate Chopin and Betty Friedan and Gloria Steinem and Maureen Dowd and my grandmothers and my aunts and my mother and so many others that I have a choice. And instead of longing for the supposed greener grass on the other side (which I so often do) I need to be thankful I have a choice and embrace that choice and realize that I’m exactly where I want and need to be.
Still, I want more. On days when I’m on deadline I want more time with Sophie. On days when I have nothing due I want more writing work. I want to be with Sophie every second and yet I want someone to publish my book and send me on a month-long book tour. I want and want and want. And in some ways, I think that’s OK. In a, perhaps screwed-up way, I think that’s a form of ambition. But I’m also working on being thankful for what I already have and always thankful for the women who have worked so hard to allow me to have it.
“I’ve yet to be on a campus where most women weren’t worrying about some aspect of combining marriage, children and a career. I’ve yet to find one where many men were worrying about the same thing.” —Gloria Steinem
It rained almost the entire time Grandma and Papa were here. But I still convinced them to play outside with me.
I would find Papa and say “rain, rain” and “water, water.” He ALWAYS took me outside. And he was so patient with me while I played and played and played in puddles and the water collected in the fire pit.
Papa also dislodged all the toys (mainly finger puppets and too-big balls and, oh yeah, a piece of an octopus from a pop-up book) I stuffed down my Busy Ball Popper. Finally! It worked again! (I may or may not have two finger puppets stuck in it right now. Mom’s working on it.)
We also went to the zoo!
Nini and Papa came over to visit. They all watched while I did my puzzle. It was a lot of pressure. I’m really good at matching colors. I’m not so good at putting the puzzle pieces exactly in place.
I also showed off my bracelet-wearing trick for them.
“I don’t care how poor a man is; if he has family, he’s rich.” —Dan Wilcox and Thad Mumford, M*A*S*H
This was Sophie’s second year at the Preble County Pork Festival.
But it was Jill and Marty’s first!
In addition to my grandma Gebhart, Jill and Marty, we also had lunch with my uncle Roger and aunt Ellen …
Tom and Katy …
my crazy Dad …
and my mom.
A huge pork chop.
Although Sophie could eat the food this year, she instead drank milk and enjoyed being passed around the table.
Grandpa taught her how to bang her fist on the table. I believe they’re demanding pie.
A peek at pigs.
A walk around the tents.
Petting a baby pig (and of course, wearing the “I petted a pig today” sticker).
And oh boy. A sandbox full of corn.
There were some tears when we dragged her away from this.
Sitting on a bench with Nini helped.
As did sitting on the hearth (and jumping off) at Grandma Gebhart’s house.
Next year maybe she’ll eat a pork chop. (Unless, of course, Uncle Kyle convinces her to become vegetarian.)
“There is poetry in a pork chop to a hungry man.” —Philip Gibbs
A couple Fridays ago Aunt Katy and Uncle Tom came into town for the Pork Festival. That Friday they spent ALL DAY at my house! We drew chalk pictures.
And played in the tent.
Uncle Tom let me wear his shoes.
Aunt Katy made the silliest of faces.
I miss them. I randomly say their names all the time, especially when I’m supposed to be napping. Ka-TY. Tom. KA-ty. TOM. You know how sometimes you just think of certain people and you don’t know why? That happens to me all the time. And when that does happen I shout out their names! That way Mom and Dad know I’m thinking about all those people, too.
“Absence sharpens love, presence strengthens it.” —Thomas Fuller
