Step 1: Decide on a whim and a craving to bake the red velvet cupcakes you saw in an ad in Parents magazine.
Step 2: Go to Safeway to purchase cupcake fixin's. Decide not to purchase cupcake papers, since you've had a box of them in the cabinet for years.
Step 3: Preheat low-end Reagan-era oven with uneven heating feature and turbo-burn capability to 350 degrees.
November 24, 2008
August 31, 2008
And so it ends
On Wednesday, I landed in Minneapolis and gave the best training presentation I could, interviewed with a group of friendly, fun people, and left Maybe Future Office with an overwhelming feeling of joy and self-satisfaction.
On Thursday, I drove to the housing development I'd visited two weeks prior and peeked in the windows of a house that had everything I wanted, in the perfect colors and layout and location. As I stood on the front porch, contemplating the "Available" sign on the lawn, I imagined flower pots on the porch and Evie's future tricycle cruising down the driveway. I watched the children playing down the street and pictured them as Evie's friends and future babysitters.
On Friday, I found out that I didn't get the job.
On Thursday, I drove to the housing development I'd visited two weeks prior and peeked in the windows of a house that had everything I wanted, in the perfect colors and layout and location. As I stood on the front porch, contemplating the "Available" sign on the lawn, I imagined flower pots on the porch and Evie's future tricycle cruising down the driveway. I watched the children playing down the street and pictured them as Evie's friends and future babysitters.
On Friday, I found out that I didn't get the job.
August 19, 2008
Maybe Future Blog
One week from now, I'll be on a plane.
One week from tomorrow, I will give a 20-minute presentation to Maybe Future Employer, showcasing my facilitation skills and classroom know-how.
One week from tomorrow, I will know whether or not I have a new job and a cross-country move in my near future.
I'm excited for the Train-Off. I have ordered a portable stash of "fiddle toys" and a tossable stuffed fish whom I will probably name Gil. I'm putting together a dynamic PowerPoint that avoids the pitfalls of texty blanditude.
One week from tomorrow, I will give a 20-minute presentation to Maybe Future Employer, showcasing my facilitation skills and classroom know-how.
One week from tomorrow, I will know whether or not I have a new job and a cross-country move in my near future.
I'm excited for the Train-Off. I have ordered a portable stash of "fiddle toys" and a tossable stuffed fish whom I will probably name Gil. I'm putting together a dynamic PowerPoint that avoids the pitfalls of texty blanditude.
August 5, 2008
What if?
There are times in life when everything clicks into place. Sequences of events like the third act of a suspenseful movie, when you realize that all the throwaway details from earlier in the film were placed there for a specific and satisfying reason. Situations that are new yet feel comfortable, because you're sure you've been there in a daydream. Moments when the light hits you just so, and you realize "This is exactly where I belong. Things are exactly as they should be."
I'm hoping that someday, I'll be describing this week in those terms.
Tomorrow morning, I board a flight - well, three of them, actually - to Minneapolis. On Thursday, I have a job interview. On Friday and Saturday, I'm looking at suburban housing developments.
I'm hoping that someday, I'll be describing this week in those terms.
Tomorrow morning, I board a flight - well, three of them, actually - to Minneapolis. On Thursday, I have a job interview. On Friday and Saturday, I'm looking at suburban housing developments.
August 2, 2008
3 BD, 3 BA, 4 balloons, 8 sippy cups, and much more!
"Why is there a calculator in the bath soap basket?"
It seemed like an innocent question, but the moment I asked it, I realized it was merely rhetorical.
The answer: Because my house is for sale.
We've been fortunate to have a lot of prospective buyers tour our house, even though none of them have made offers yet. Since we still have to live here, we have a nice little arrangement with our realtor's office in which they call us before allowing a visit. Ideally, they give us 24 hours notice, ample time to invite ourselves over to a friend's house or plan a family outing.
It seemed like an innocent question, but the moment I asked it, I realized it was merely rhetorical.
The answer: Because my house is for sale.
We've been fortunate to have a lot of prospective buyers tour our house, even though none of them have made offers yet. Since we still have to live here, we have a nice little arrangement with our realtor's office in which they call us before allowing a visit. Ideally, they give us 24 hours notice, ample time to invite ourselves over to a friend's house or plan a family outing.
July 29, 2008
July 20, 2008
A New Home
There's something exhilarating and terrifying about moving to a new home.
It starts with a vague idea, the supposition that maybe, possibly, there's a place out there where you belong. A place where the light falls just so, where you feel comfortable being yourself, where your ideas make sense. Maybe you've been there in your dreams; it's entirely new, yet somehow familiar. It's your space, and it's just waiting for you to arrive and occupy it.
There are things that might stand in your way. All the beautiful things that you're giving up. Some of them can be packed into boxes with bubble wrap and care. Some of them are too fragile, or anchored to the earth, and must be left behind. The most important things, of course, are not things at all, but the people who may visit you, or may silently fade into your past.
It starts with a vague idea, the supposition that maybe, possibly, there's a place out there where you belong. A place where the light falls just so, where you feel comfortable being yourself, where your ideas make sense. Maybe you've been there in your dreams; it's entirely new, yet somehow familiar. It's your space, and it's just waiting for you to arrive and occupy it.
There are things that might stand in your way. All the beautiful things that you're giving up. Some of them can be packed into boxes with bubble wrap and care. Some of them are too fragile, or anchored to the earth, and must be left behind. The most important things, of course, are not things at all, but the people who may visit you, or may silently fade into your past.
July 14, 2008
Evie and Uh Oh: A Love Story
A couple of weeks ago, while hiding from potential buyers who wished to tour our house, we took Evie to lunch at Red Robin, where she got a red helium balloon. She fell head over heels for that balloon, tugging on the string, squealing, and talking to it in her sweetest Evie voice. We brought it home with us, where she continued to play with it. She accidentally released it and it flew up to the ceiling. She pointed to it and said "Uh oh!" - then repeated this about 30 more times through the course of the afternoon. We would get the balloon down for her, she'd play with it for awhile, then she would let it go and say "Uh oh" until we retrieved it again.
May 18, 2008
Toddler Life Lessons
Hi Friends,
I've learned a lot of things in my year. Last spring, I could barely hold up my own head. Now, I'm walking, feeding crackers to my parents, and saying such words as "Uh oh," "Thanks," and "Dad dad."
I can't quite read and write yet, and the only thing I can do on the computer is activate Windows Help and change mommy's screen resolution, so mommy is typing this for me. It's time to share my hard-earned wisdom with all the other toddlers (and toddler fans) in the world.
Evie's Nuggets of Toddler Wisdom
Daddy's T-shirt drawer is a great place to store a sippy cup, and the lid to the dishwasher soap dispenser belongs in the DVD cabinet.
Pennies are not delicious. Cat food is.
Sneaking up on people is more fun if you say "deedle deedle deedle" the whole way there.
Just because the cat has never accepted your generous offer of a pacifier, that's no reason to stop offering.
At church, we learn about sharing. That's why it's a perfect time to pull things out of mommy's purse and hand them to the family sitting behind us.
It's impossible to hear "Barnyard Dance" too many times. The alphabet book, on the other hand, stops becoming interesting at the precise moment when it's revealed that "I is for Ice Cream."
"Spillproof container" means there's a puzzle waiting to be solved.
The best toys are the ones that mommy and daddy play with - the remote controls, the cell phones, and any piece of paper that looks important.
It's good to say "Uh oh" after you drop something from your high chair or knock over a tower of blocks that your daddy built. It's extra polite if you say "Uh oh" before you knock over said block tower.
Don't ever let your mommy close the bathroom door when she's inside. Whatever she's doing in there, she needs your help.
If you're in a good mood, don't keep it to yourself. Smile with your mouth wide open, squeal with delight, wave your arms in the air, and share the joy with every friend and stranger you meet.
Make your mommy write these lessons down, because you never know when one of you might forget.
Love,
Evie
I've learned a lot of things in my year. Last spring, I could barely hold up my own head. Now, I'm walking, feeding crackers to my parents, and saying such words as "Uh oh," "Thanks," and "Dad dad."
I can't quite read and write yet, and the only thing I can do on the computer is activate Windows Help and change mommy's screen resolution, so mommy is typing this for me. It's time to share my hard-earned wisdom with all the other toddlers (and toddler fans) in the world.
Evie's Nuggets of Toddler Wisdom
Daddy's T-shirt drawer is a great place to store a sippy cup, and the lid to the dishwasher soap dispenser belongs in the DVD cabinet.
Pennies are not delicious. Cat food is.
Sneaking up on people is more fun if you say "deedle deedle deedle" the whole way there.
Just because the cat has never accepted your generous offer of a pacifier, that's no reason to stop offering.
At church, we learn about sharing. That's why it's a perfect time to pull things out of mommy's purse and hand them to the family sitting behind us.
It's impossible to hear "Barnyard Dance" too many times. The alphabet book, on the other hand, stops becoming interesting at the precise moment when it's revealed that "I is for Ice Cream."
"Spillproof container" means there's a puzzle waiting to be solved.
The best toys are the ones that mommy and daddy play with - the remote controls, the cell phones, and any piece of paper that looks important.
It's good to say "Uh oh" after you drop something from your high chair or knock over a tower of blocks that your daddy built. It's extra polite if you say "Uh oh" before you knock over said block tower.
Don't ever let your mommy close the bathroom door when she's inside. Whatever she's doing in there, she needs your help.
If you're in a good mood, don't keep it to yourself. Smile with your mouth wide open, squeal with delight, wave your arms in the air, and share the joy with every friend and stranger you meet.
Make your mommy write these lessons down, because you never know when one of you might forget.
Love,
Evie
April 17, 2008
30 and some thoughts
It's official. My 20s are over, and my 30s have begun.
It's been a fairly ordinary way to begin a decade, waking up against the backdrop of competing interests: The childlike desire to open presents before breakfast, juxtaposed against my overwhelming need to snooze just one more time. My name is Monica, it's my birthday, and I don't need a lot of sleep - just five more minutes.
After an impromptu baby bath (some birthday presents, even Huggies Overnites cannot contain), I set off to work and my first day as a 30-year-old.
At various points in the last few years, I've had the realization "30 is approaching." It used to strike fear in my heart. The number seemed foreign and strange and decidedly abstract, like when you tell a child that someday he or she will be an adult. It may be true, but it's impossible to picture.
It's been a fairly ordinary way to begin a decade, waking up against the backdrop of competing interests: The childlike desire to open presents before breakfast, juxtaposed against my overwhelming need to snooze just one more time. My name is Monica, it's my birthday, and I don't need a lot of sleep - just five more minutes.
After an impromptu baby bath (some birthday presents, even Huggies Overnites cannot contain), I set off to work and my first day as a 30-year-old.
At various points in the last few years, I've had the realization "30 is approaching." It used to strike fear in my heart. The number seemed foreign and strange and decidedly abstract, like when you tell a child that someday he or she will be an adult. It may be true, but it's impossible to picture.
March 21, 2008
A letter to Evie on her birthday
Dear Evie,
Happy Birthday!
You can’t read this yet, but I have so much that I want to say to you.
It doesn’t seem like a year ago that you came into this world, but I must have blinked, because you’re turning one.
I remember all the surprises that came with your arrival. I was surprised at how tiny you were, how you didn’t really look like either of your parents, and how you changed everything about the world from the moment of your arrival.
Happy Birthday!
You can’t read this yet, but I have so much that I want to say to you.
It doesn’t seem like a year ago that you came into this world, but I must have blinked, because you’re turning one.
I remember all the surprises that came with your arrival. I was surprised at how tiny you were, how you didn’t really look like either of your parents, and how you changed everything about the world from the moment of your arrival.
February 16, 2008
...and so, it continues
It's amazing, the rate at which a little person grows.
Today, I watched Evie realize that when she waved at me, and I waved at her, there was a connection between the two gestures. She had waved at me before, but it wasn't until this morning that she realized I was waving back at her.
It made her laugh. A lot.
About three weeks ago, Evie learned to crawl.
A few days later, she grabbed onto an endtable and pulled herself to standing.
In a matter of moments, my baby was gone, and a toddler now lived in my house.
It made her laugh. A lot.
About three weeks ago, Evie learned to crawl.
A few days later, she grabbed onto an endtable and pulled herself to standing.
In a matter of moments, my baby was gone, and a toddler now lived in my house.
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