Precious Saturday quotations

Did you know that "quote" is actually a verb?  So that's why it's Saturday quotations - that's the noun form.  Okay, I'll put the English professor away now.  Quote as a noun is becoming accepted now anyway (much to my chagrin).  Moving along...

Yesterday the fam and I went to my godson's (little cousin's) 5th birthday party.  My cousin (his mom) always has themes for her kids' birthday parties; this one was a music theme so they had inflatable and real instruments for the kids to play with and a little stage area for them to perform, plus some musical chair-type games and a cake with a musical carousel on it.  Kids love making noise, so needless to say, everyone had a great time.

Quote #1 - "Tattoo!"

The kids all got press-on tattoos, like little rock stars. TJ's dad has tattoos so he already knew what they were and was very excited to have a tattoo, just like Daddy. He kept pointing at it, grinning, and saying, "Tattoo!" with the emphasis on the second syllable. So cute.

Quote #2 - "Boo!"

No matter how many times we play peek-a-boo, it never gets old. My sister said she's going to be playing peek-a-boo with him as he leaves for college.

Quote #3 - *Excited sucking sound*

Whenever TJ is excited about something, he sucks in his breath and makes this, "Eeee!" noise. He does this when he's on a swing or hears his dad on the phone.

Quote #4 - "Oh boy!  Wind up liederhosen!"

No, seriously. My godson, Erik (whom you may recognize as the ringbearer at my wedding) said this when he saw these toys with his birthday cake. The boys are half German and enjoy going to Oktoberfest and other similar festivals. Note: Erik is actually wearing liederhosen in this photo.

I vote the wind-up liederhosen as the quote of the day.

The wonderful Friday that was

This Friday began my "summer hours" at work, meaning I have Fridays off (but work slightly longer hours during the week).  If this first Friday off was any indication of how great these days are going to be, it is going to be a great summer.

1. I actually slept in late; I didn't get out of bed until 9:30!  That's insane for me.  I'm up at 7am every day and usually can't sleep past 8am, maybe 8:30am on the weekends.

2. I lazed around, drank coffee, ate a yummy Hungry Girl* breakfast, sat around reading blogs and watching Food Network.

3. Rebecca Woolf posted not one but TWO blog posts today!  One on her site and one on her Babble blog.  A great day, indeed.

4. I cleaned the bathroom AND the kitchen.  Why is this great?  Because they were gross, that's why, and I can't think straight when my living space is messy.  I need to get my husband to feel the same way, somehow.

5. I got to babysit my nephew, TJ.  My sister had a doctor's appointment so I went over a bit early, spent an hour with the two of them, then watched him for an hour, and then spent another hour with them.  He is SO adorable and sweet and entertaining, but also SO Jekyll and Hyde: happy laughing one minute, and screaming tantrum the next.  He's almost 16 months old and already knows 40+ words, so perhaps the terrible twos are making their way early as well.  Regardless, I could still spend all day with him (although my sister and I had an interesting conversation about how neither of us could be stay-at-home moms and totally revere those who are, but those are thoughts for another time).

6. I took my previous "chicken and salsa" slow cooker recipe, substituted pork chops for chicken, and ended up with super yummy salsa pulled pork, which I then put on nacho chips and sprinkled with cheese.  Mmm.  I also made a tomato/avocado salsa that my husband and I are obsessed with lately (courtesy of Cooking Light).

7. I only needed half a lime for the salsa, so the other half got squeezed into a glass and I enjoyed a super refreshing homemade limeade.  Mmmm, so good.

I only hope next Friday can live up to this one.

*The Hungry Girl Easiest Egg Breakfast Ever

I love you, except when I don't.

And by "you", I mean student papers.  In theory, I love grading papers.  When I have stacks of short grading to do (say, introduction paragraphs), I really get into it.  But when I have a stack of final papers, even if they're only four pages long (or, unfortunately, less), I just do not relish digging in.  There are just some things that I do not enjoy as often as I love them. Other things I love, except when I don't:

• cleaning
• making coffee
• cooking dinner
• styling my hair
• choosing my outfit for the day
• going clothes shopping
• going out to dinner
• hanging out with people

Sometimes I need and yearn for these things.  Some mornings I love getting my hair "just so".  Other mornings, I wish I could just wear a hat because I cannot be bothered to toy with the hair dryer, round brush, and texturizing cream.  I sometimes love being home by myself, putting on my favorite music and yellow gloves, and scrubbing the kitchen from top to bottom.  Other times, I would rather lie on a crumb-laden floor than take out the Swiffer and clean it.  Of course, at times like those I can call up my sister and have my one-year-old nephew come over since Swiffering is one of his favorite activities (no lie):

That's my nephew on Easter with my Mom's Swiffer... right before he sat on it and broke it (TJ the Destroyer).  (By the way, can you not love that outfit??  He looks like a future Justin Timberlake.) 

Anyway, there was my daily excuse for getting my nephew into the conversation.  Moving along...

So what is it that causes this love vs. avoidance conundrum?  Is everyone so fickle?  I hate to admit it, but even books fall into this.  I adore reading but sometimes it's the last thing I want to do, even if it's purely reading for pleasure - even if it's a book I've been looking forward to.  Is it the behavior of the residual three year old in all of us, defiant even against those things we love?  Or is it something else?  Or is it (*gulp*) just me?

Told you so

I've said a bazillion times that my nephew TJ totally looks like my dad.  I've thought it from the first pictures of him in the hospital when he was born.  Well, yesterday my dad put together a picture of himself and TJ, side by side:

Okay, they're not twins but... can't you see the resemblance???  I think it's uncanny... and I also think I'm super lucky to have such good looking men in my family.

PS - My dad grew up in Sweden.  Hopefully that sufficiently explains his outfit (which I think is super cute).

Bringing the future to the past

Today I went to church twice.  No, I'm not extremely faithful or religious.  Today is Palm Sunday, so I went to church for that, then this afternoon my whole family went into NYC to celebrate my aunt and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary.  The blessing for them was held at the church on the Upper East Side that my parents were married at and I was baptized at.  Other than my baptism, I've been to that church twice before (for the baptism of my little cousins) and really looked forward to and loved going again, especially since this time I had my husband with me (we hadn't even met yet the last time I was there).

Most of the service was in Estonian (which is what my father's family is) and a soloist even sang "Amazing Grace" in Estonian, which brought tears to my eyes.  Like I said, I am not particularly faithful or religious, but I do enjoy being in church and am moved by it quite frequently (and that's not limited to churches either; I have teared up in synagogue, too).  I have great respect for faith and religion and for those whose life it helps.  I know a lot of people have issues with church-going, but I think I was lucky enough to grow up attending a really great church whose congregation does a lot of great things for people.

Of course, my nephew TJ was there today and it was great to watch him toddle around the church.  He's such a joy; people really are drawn to him (except for one bratty kid who kept stealing his toys and trying to knock him over and punch him; I swear, I wanted to clock that kid - he had to be at least five or six and he was picking on a one year old).  It was really emotional to sit in this church where my parents were married, where I was baptized, where so many people of my heritage still gather to sing their national anthem and pray in their homeland language - and then watch my darling one year old nephew toddle around.  He's only 1/4 Estonian, but I wonder what his heritage will mean to him.  How will he view and put together all the different nationalities that have come together to create him?  Will he think of all the family members who left their homes and traveled to a new country so that their children could have better lives, not even able to think far ahead enough to this wonderful little boy who would one day wander down the aisle of this church still speaking the old country language?

March 19th, a year

One year ago today I flew from Newark to San Francisco to present some of my Harry Potter thesis at the Popular/American Culture Association's national conference.  As I exited the SF subway, I noticed a woman from my plane who seemed to be looking for the same hotel I was looking for.  We started talking and shared the walk together.  I admired her suitcase, which could spin in any direction.  Several months later, I registered for the same ones and now own the set and will use one when I go to my next conference (in Albuquerque in a few weeks). I checked in to the hotel and went out to grab some snacks.  I was too tired to go to any conference sessions that afternoon so I just planned to get some cheap food and camp out in my hotel room and watch TV.  As I settled in with my 7-11 goodies, my cell phone rang. "Congratulations Auntie!!!!!"  My mom was calling to let me know my sister had given birth.  Then, next: "It's a boy!"  I was shocked, absolutely shocked.  I was convinced she was going to have a girl.  (My sister is one of those "annoying" people who likes to be surprised by what she's having - something I will never understand.)

So, a year ago today, my first nephew, TJ, came into the world:

To say he changed my life would be an understatement.  Before TJ, I wasn't really a fan of children.  I didn't dislike them entirely, but I just didn't see the enjoyment in them.  Most of them either bore or annoy me.  TJ, though, is fascinating.  When he was an infant, I could just sit and look at him for hours.  I found myself panicking about whether or not he was still breathing as he napped.  I didn't care if he peed on me or puked on me (both of which he's done, especially the puking).  I feel like I would go to the ends of the earth for him - and he's not even my child.

Until TJ, I had never held a newborn.  It had been probably ten years or more since I changed a diaper.  I had long since believed that I would be fine never having children of my own.  TJ changed all that.  Newborns not only no longer make me nervous, but I'm actually interested in them (even if I still believe they're not all that interesting themselves since they don't really do much).  As much as the idea of being pregnant is admittedly kind of gross to me (the whole thing really grosses me out), I now know it's something my husband and I are going to try for in a couple of years.

After I graduated, my sister had to go back to work (maternity leave was over) and so my mom and I watched TJ every day until the school year was done (my sister is a teacher).  Every day I'd talk to him and make faces and watch him try to imitate sounds as I changed his diaper and played with him.

I look at my sister differently now.  She was always a kid magnet - kids are seriously drawn to her and she's really great with them, better than I know I'll ever be.  Watching her as a mother, though, made the whole thing significantly less scary to me and a whole lot more real.

And then he started to do all sorts of things.  He had been smiling and imitating sounds and faces.  All of a sudden, he could sit up on his own.

And he started to love playing peek-a-boo (still does).

Then the time came for all sorts of new things:

And then the big moment... the time everyone waits for: walking.

The year wasn't without trials and tribulations, though.  TJ had to be on special formula and Zantac for almost his whole first year because of his acid reflux and other digestive issues (refer back to: lots of puking on Auntie).  These issues caused many ear infections, which finally necessitated having tubes put in his ears.

One ear was nearly 100% full and the doctor believes TJ wasn't hearing anything out of that ear.  The other ear was about 60% full, so he probably didn't hear enough at all.  Yet, amazingly, his hearing seemed good and he's picked up a bunch of words: mama, dada, eat, more, again, night night, nana, balloo (balloon)... I think his vocabulary is going to explode as his ears drain.

Through it all, he has been an unfailingly amusing, chipper, entertaining, happy kid who seems older than his months.  I can't believe a whole year has passed.  I finally understand now what they mean when they say it all goes by so quickly.  Maybe I understood that the time went quickly, but I didn't understand why anyone would care.  Isn't that first year just full of poop and puke and sleepless nights and losing touch with friends and your own identity and free time?

No.  Well, maybe some, in some ways, but not in the "your life goes down a black hole" kind of way.  Yes, your life changes in ways that will never reverse.  Yes, you have to possibly re-evaluate who you are now, adding "parent" to your identity.  You not only swap something you enjoy doing for feeding someone else, but come to realize you do so happily.

I had no understanding of the joy that children can bring and how it SO significantly outweighs the difficulties and personal sacrifices.  I still think I'm that person that doesn't like a lot of children and will always prefer my own or those related to me far above any other child, but thanks to TJ, I have a whole new understanding of how amazing babies and children are and what they can bring to your life and your understanding of how life works.

And all this in just one year.  He's one amazing kid.  Happy Birthday Mr. Wonderful.

Under a drift? No such luck.

No, alas, I am not actually stuck in the snow somewhere.  Instead, I am at work, after getting up, showering, layering on the work clothes, walking the dog (oh wait, had to shovel my way out the door first), trudging through snow almost too high for the dog, then going back to the apartment, shoveling the walkway and sidewalk, cleaning off my car, and then coming to work so I could... do more work.  Lovely.

Don't get me wrong - I LOVE winter.  I'm not really complaining about all of this - I just feel like when it snows this much, we should be allowed to stay home to enjoy it, not be forced to push it all out of the way so we can come to the office and do work that we could have done from home because now I'm in my windowless office (which I share with several people) totally unable to see outside until I leave at 5pm.  That does not make me happy.

Pictures of my nephew do make me happy, though.  My parents and I babysat him on Saturday and he was as cute as ever:

{clapping along with Moose A. Moose}

Go Bronx!

Pop-pop is funny!

Is mommy coming back soon??

That last picture is my absolute favorite.  He can walk across two rooms now and is getting better control of all of the stuff walking requires, so now he can stand on his tip-toes and peer out the window.  I think it's a really adorable picture of him.  I am just so in love with this kid.

Who's so crazy?

Today I got to babysit my 10-month-old nephew, TJ, for eight hours.  His paternal grandmother babysits him two days a week so she and that side of the family get to see him a lot more than we do, so I complained to my sister recently and she said we could babysit today.  She starts some grad school classes this week and so we're actually going to get to babysit him a little more so she has time for her schoolwork (her husband works long hours, manual labor, so really long days).  I'm very excited about this.  As I've mentioned before, he's the only kid I've ever really enjoyed and my enjoyment of him increases just more and more.

I've always thought that the time between around 8 months and 2-3 yrs old is the most fun and so far TJ proves it.  He's not walking on his own yet, but he can walk if he's pushing this stand-up toy car he has (one of those ones you can ride on, too).  He loves to be lifted up in the air or swung around.  If you go, "Who's so CRAZY??" he screams and bounces up and down.  If you say, "I'm gonna get you!!" he screams and crawls away.  He's just a world of fun and I cannot wait to have even more time with him - I just can't get enough!  Never have I enjoyed spending time with a child in this way.  If/when my hubby and I have kids, they'll have TJ to thank for their existence because he's really proved to me that kids are a joy, despite all the hard work.

That dazzling smile.

It's a holly jolly (icy) work day.

I don't recall when the last time was I had to work on December 24th.  I might have to dip back to 2001 for that, but even then I'm not totally certain if I worked that day or not.  Even if I did, it now seems like a lifetime ago.  I work for a school but only faculty and students are off for the winter break; staff has to be here... so here I be.

It's so icy out that it probably would have behooved me to put on ice skates to get to my car this morning.  Instead, me and my Anne Klein loafers just schlepped and slid our way out.  Two of the school's campuses have delayed openings due to the ice today, but not the one I'm at today.  Joy to my world.  Now I know what you're thinking: "But don't penguins love ice?"  Mais oui, but this one also prefers to not crack her ass on the ice.

But I've been cranky enough about having to work today and just need to drop it.  I am thankful to just have a job, even if it is making me work December 24 - oh, and did I mention I have to work a full day on December 26?  Okay, no really, I'll stop complaining (for) now.  I do get out early today (3pm) so I can spend extra time at home with my family, including my brother who flew in from Florida last night (where he's in his last year of law school) and my sister and her husband and son, my absolute favorite child in the whole world.  Sometimes I feel guilty calling my nephew the love of my life because, well, he's not my son and I also have a husband . . . but my nephew is just so darn cute; I can't get enough of him.  This is his first Christmas and while I'm not a big fan of training future consumers, I am looking forward to watching him tear open presents and then, inevitably, enjoy the boxes more than the toys themselves.  (Hm, perhaps we are all anti-consumer at heart since we all seem to enjoy the vessels more than the products when we are young?)

After dinner we're going to church.  After attending the same church for 25 years, you'd think I'd know what time the service starts, but I can never remember (it's some time around 10:30pm).  I just always remember that we get out at midnight so it's "officially" Christmas when we go home.  Organized religion and faith are not things I find myself needing as regular parts of my life, but I do appreciate what they do for some people (my parents, in particular) and I enjoy the traditions and pageantry (although Lutherans are relatively low on pageantry).  For Christmas Eve, though, there are lots of extra candles and all the best hymns; it's a wonderful service.

This is probably an odd time of year to start a new blog because it gets bogged (err, blogged?) down with things like what one does for the holidays.  I missed blogging through my engagement and wedding (I got married last month), through graduate school (just finished in May), my summer as a temp, the new jobs I started in September, and so much else that will all be revealed in time.  I'm also going to start a 101 in 1001 list.  Stay tuned.

For now I'm going to continue sipping my french vanilla coffee until it's finished and get crackin' on some work so as to actually earn my paycheck today.  But first, a little holiday gift to my non-existent readers: a sneak peek of what I'm sure will be a topic to come - my wedding.

Photo credit: Kella MacPhee