Month: December 2011

Beautiful Nora

nora+bunny

Every time a friend of mine has a baby, I post about it. (Search “welcome” for all the new beautiful babies I’ve had the pleasure of holding.) It occurred to me, only today, that I never wrote an official welcome post for Nora Helen Estridge, born July 5, 2011, 6 lbs. 15 oz., 20 in. Her parents, Dara and Mike, waited for and wanted her for a long time and I couldn’t be happier for them.

I was unable to see Nora when she was first born because of the awful c-diff (which I’m still on antibiotics for) but now, when on antibiotics, I’m able to hold babies whenever I want to. And lately, I want to. Often. I don’t really want another baby (and we’re not having another one) but now that my boys are toddlers, in every sense of the word, something hurts—physically hurts—when I hold a baby or have the rare pleasure of letting one sleep on my chest. I realize you can’t experience that forever, personally, but it makes me realize, really realize, how rare and fleeting that time was. Yes, there was sleep deprivation and projectile vomiting and unreliable hormones and nonstop crying but there was also this tiny, amazing human being who fit, toes at belly button, head at neck, perfectly. I miss that.

But enough about me. Back to Nora. She’s perfect. And her parents are amazing. She’s lucky—very lucky. Dara and Mike, I’m so sorry this is so belated, but I couldn’t be happier for you. You deserve her. And she deserves you. My most sincere congratulations.

“Where did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the Everywhere and into here.” —George MacDonald

A Holiday Bazaar

PB046374

Early November my mom, Sophie, Owen and James drove up to Lewisburg, OH to attend the annual holiday bazaar at Trinity Lutheran Church.

PB046375

My grandma (on the right) is very active in the church and did a lot of work for this event, as she does every year. Like most small-town church holiday bazaars, the homemade food was delicious and inexpensive (when you checked out there was a bowl of free apples, which I’m sure was from someone’s backyard). You could buy everything from candles and homemade fudge to doll clothes and jewelry at the bazaar. I even found a beautiful silver chain that reminded me of my grandma’s timeless style and warm heart. I came home with a small, handmade wooden stool for the children to use in our upstairs bathroom and a handmade wooden bench, which is perfect as a coffee table in our living room. The man who made it built a wooden cross for the church, in memory of my grandpa. And I think of that every time I prop my feet up on our new coffee table.

I love the church holiday bazaar, no matter the town. I love that everyone knows everyone and that it can take 20 minutes to walk 20 feet from all the “hellos” and “look how much they’ve grown!” and that by buying these goods, most handmade from neighbors (or, in this case, my grandma’s neighbors), you’re supporting those who surround you, in every sense of the word.

“We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men.” —Herman Melville

Morning Glory

PB126511

taken November 12

“The moment when you first wake up in the morning is the most wonderful of the twenty-four hours. No matter how weary or dreary you may feel, you possess the certainty that, during the day that lies before you, absolutely anything may happen. And the fact that it practically always doesn’t, matters not a jot. The possibility is always there.”—Monica Baldwin

Temper Tantrums

PB126506

The boys now respond to no by running into the next room and throwing themselves on the floor. There they twist and squirm and scream and roll and cry, and when that doesn’t work, they stand up and just yell louder, as Owen is doing here (James is still in the squirming on the floor point in this picture). They are fantastic temper tantrum throwers. My favorite, though, is when one throws a tantrum and then the other, noticing his brother, will stop playing, stand up, calmly walk into the same room where the tantrum is taking place and then once in the same room, throw himself down with rolls and tears and screams and squirms to match his brother—simply because that is what his brother was doing.

“Temper tantrums, however fun they may be to throw, rarely solve whatever problem is causing them.” —Lemony Snicket