8 to 8

When Edie was born, James took a week off of work, then went back just as the show was wrapping.  Which meant 14, sometimes 16 hour days.  I remember one night, holding a screaming Edie, thinking that I didn't have the steam to get her to sleep for what felt like the 12th time that day, and that James was due home soon, so I'd just wait for him.  After a while I realized I was just being dramatic, that I did, of course, have enough steam, and I get her to sleep.  James got home, like, six hours later.

And then, all of a sudden, the show wrapped, and he was home.  We traveled for the holidays, and then we traveled after the holidays, and then we had a month where it was just the three of us, home together every day.  I'm not going to lie; we got under each other's feet.  We weren't as productive as we were intending to me.  I didn't go for a run everyday, and James didn't always carve out hours to write.  We lived more in snatches, handing Edie back and forth as we took showers and made lunch and wrote emails.

But, nearly everyday we'd all end up on the bed, and Edie would look back and forth at us, and, as is her custom, would reach out and wrap her hand around James's finger, and reach her other hand out to touch my shirt, and James would say, the gang's all here.  And as I laid there, I wouldn't forget that money was tight and getting tighter, or that waiting for something to happen is always tense, and that when that something is something possibly wonderful, that tension becomes knife-edged, but I'd also think that - soon - I would be so glad for this time we were spending together, when our Edie is young and we are so new at this.

That soon is now.

So this is for James.

She doesn't say so, but I do think she misses you.

This Is A Test

This is also a cereal milk milkshake.  A CEREAL MILK MILKSHAKE.  Get with it.  From the Momofuku Milk Bar.  It blew my mind.

Rachel, can you see the photo, normal-like?  Can everyone else?  Come on, reader-non-commenters, I need to know, can you see the photos?  This is for science.


**Also, for the record, the cereal is undisclosed, but it tastes like a sweet cornflake milk.  Not Frosted Flake-sweet, but just perfect sweet.

Baby's First Gothic Revival Library

We took a trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Monday, which was open in honor of President's Day.  We went with Kimmy and Tyson, who is not pictured, but who loves past presidents.  After art-viewing, we sat outside on the steps and ate pb&j and discussed our favorite presidents.  I chose FDR for two reasons: one- he ran the country from a wheelchair, and two- he makes an appearance in Annie.

This photo is included because it captures the moment where I saw a guy in board shorts in a) February, b) New York, and c) a museum.

Just as a note, if you stand your infant on a sphinx, you will have a security guard yell at you, and then shake his head in a disappointed way that will make you feel embarrassed for much longer than you expect.  I have a tenancy to lean on art, so being reprimanded by security guards is not new to me.  But I could have lived without that head shake.

We looked at the historical rooms, and the Frank Lloyd Wright room (which is my favorite), and then saw James's favorite painting, The Death of Socrates, which he likes because of Steve Martin's SNL skit by the same name, and then we high-tailed it out of there.  I really like the Met, because even at it's fullest, it retains a dignity in its relative quiet, but hanging out with Edie feels a little like walking around with a time bomb.  Even when she's totally benign, I'm still wary, only glancing at her sideways, just ready for her to explode.

She didn't--she usually doesn't, but that low-grade anxiety may put my carefree museum wandering on the back burner for a while.

This is unfortunate, because museum discoveries, much like worthwhile life discoveries*, are usually made by accident.  So, one more thing to file under "things that are different about my life now".

*life lesson.

Fact

Lightning bugs are as close to magic as anything gets.

Also, I'm dreaming of summer.

photos via here.

What I Made . . . For Reals

So, when I stopped working two summers ago, my brother gave me some advice.  He told me to do something with my time, not to just let it pass.  To do something that I've been meaning to do, but hadn't found the time for.

I wanted to make a quilt, so that's what I did.  That it took me two years is not really the point.

I actually did most of the work that first summer.  The cutting of the blocks and sewing them into strips.  I was reluctant to sew the strips together, because, quite frankly, my apartment does not have a space big enough to spread it out.  So I bundled it all up and took it with me on a visit to California, so that my mom could help.  What with eating tacos and swimming, I never got around to finishing it.  Ditto for, like, two visits after that.  My mom would sort of remind me that it was waiting to be finished, and I'd be like, in a minute, I'm eating a taco.

This last visit, however, I was going to finish it.  Though, I did wait until the very end of the visit.  I had my doubts that it would get done.  Luckily, Rachel and Katie came for a visit, and I kind of conned them into  tying the quilt as we gabbed (thanks again, ladies).

My very last night there, I did the edges.  Let's not beat around the bush: they're not great.  Don't even get me started on mitered corners.  But, you probably wouldn't notice it from a trotting horse.  Besides, that's what I like about handmade things -- the little imperfections.  In that way, there's a lot to like about this quilt.

Honestly, over a year passed from start to finish, and my feelings about the quilt changed in that time.  Which happens, especially with long term projects.  I have plenty of time to lose interest.  I like it, though I'm not sure exactly what to do with it.  Right now it's under the coverlet, keeping us warm while I give my grandmother's quilt a season off.


*I included that last photo of Edie because her feet look like the start of a pretty decent sur le cou-de-pied.

A Valentine Message #2

This one is from James.

Why is everyone so down on "pal"?

A Valentine Message #1

From my sister, Silvia.

Happy Valentine's Day to you too, sister.