One year ago today I was in labor. I’d been having contractions for a few days, sporadically, but this was the real thing. Sam was concerned about me. I was hungry for quesadillas.


This photo was taken 364 days ago, when Grace was around 12 hours old. We’d gone to the hospital after I birthed her on the living room floor (I can show you where) because I have this annoying tendency to hemorrhage postpartum.

You can’t really tell here just how wonderfully ugly she was. Her brow was furrowed, her nose wide and flat, her cheeks eclipsed most of her face, and her eyes were so dark that it was impossible to tell what color they were.

She was such an easy, even-tempered baby. Now she is a spirited, fun toddler who wants to do everything her “Baboo” (brother) does. She loves peekaboo, blowing raspberries on my belly, drawing, climbing things, and making a mess. We call her Hurricane Gracie.

Her party tricks include waving, clapping, and giving kisses. If one of us turns on the water in the bathroom for any reason whatsoever, she is instantly at his or her side, trying to climb into the tub. If anyone is getting ready to leave, she gets her shoes. If we set out clothing for her, she will put it on her head.

She is such a lovely little person.


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Happy Birthday, Grace. Thank you for completing our family.

Funny Man

Sam is either going through an extremely literal phase or showing some gaps in his vocabulary.

This morning he asked Will to shoot him with his new dart gun. Will said he thought that would hurt, and suggested that Sam “back up.” Sam turned around so his back was facing Will.

Just now he asked Will to come have a light saber fight with him. I said that Dad was helping me, and could Sam “give me five minutes?” So Sam gave me five. As in, a high-five.

I can’t stop giggling.

And a Happy New Beer

365 days later:


This morning the children approached the tree slowly, as though suspicious. Sam spotted Grace’s tricycle and rushed over to examine it. Grace noticed the Plan Garage and toddled over to see what it was all about. Then they both shouted and swapped places.

We were all spoiled rotten this year, both in gifts and company. I am feeling incredibly blessed.

Rancho Park

Yesterday Sam discovered the special features disk on my Marx Bros. DVD set. It has Today Show appearances by Harpo, Groucho, and Billy Marx (Harpo’s son). The host asks Billy if his uncles were funny around the house, and he said they were almost never there, because the brothers spent their days together at the country club and were sick of each other in the evenings. It was funny, or maybe it was regretful–I don’t know.

This morning we drove past the Rancho Park golf course, across the street from Fox, and I pointed it out to Sam.

“You know the club where the Marx Brothers played golf?”


“That’s it.”


I wish I could describe his awed whisper, or the frantic pointing as he tried to direct me to take him there. I tried to be gentle when I explained that they played there a long time ago, but I don’t think he understands at all. He was so excited. It was wonderful, even if it’s a little sad.

An Important Distinction

Yesterday I told Will that I believe my fingers might fall off before I am done with my Christmas sewing. He rebuked me for such an awful image and suggested that I instead say that I would sew until my fingers bleed.

Yeah, I don’t know either. But I do know that I have a LOT of sewing to complete before, like, right now. Luckily, my parents don’t care if their presents arrive before Christmas, but I really need to finish Grace’s present because I insist on building a habit of being fair to her for both Christmas and her birthday and we got Sam the best present ever.

Oh man so much sewing. It’s a good thing I like sewing.

I may be too literal.

Today I watched this video from a Jezebel post that someone shared on Google Reader. (Moderately NSFW, requires sound.)

Did you watch? You probably are thinking, “Good for her,” am I right? Well, I agree, but…

Jezebel described it as a video of a woman “eviscerating her subway attacker.” I EXPECTED TO SEE VISCERA. I am deeply disappointed.

Was you ever bit by a dead bee?

I was.

Yesterday I arrived at work and set my bag on the table so I could switch out my glasses. As I reached for the zipper I suddenly felt an intense pain in my knuckle. It was very localized and felt like paralysis, or at the very least numbness. There was a little thorn stuck in my skin, which I removed. It looked like a bee stinger, but there was no bee anywhere to be seen. It could also have been from a plant or cactus. Whatever it was, it clearly was intended to paralyze and possibly kill the predators (which must be much smaller than me) of whatever-it-came-from. My finger is swollen, but it’s barely noticeable. The area immediately surrounding the sting feels bruised and is tender to the touch. I have ever-so-slightly limited range of motion in that knuckle. I used draw out salve but nothing more came out, so I think the stinger was intact when I removed it.

It is all SO WEIRD.