M Cubed

Notes from Tom

2012-01-23T21:09:00.000-05:00

Background information:

1. I am from Westminster, Maryland, which is about 40 minutes outside Baltimore, and is the town where the Ravens hold their training camp. People in Westminster are VERY into the Ravens. Many of these fans go bananas on Facebook griping about Shittsburg and giving the play by play of each game. It gets pretty annoying.

2. My brother is one of these fans.

3. I like to torment my brother. So does my sister. We will, on occasion, bomb his Facebook page with tormenting comments, which usually elicit some response from him like, "Well, if it isn't my bitchy sisters." He especially likes it when we call him Darryl, which is what he was almost named.

4. I think Tom Brady is handsome.

5. On Sunday, Jordan's Facebook status read, "Tom Brady's a punk!" Today, after the Ravens lost to the Patriots, Jordan's Facebook status read, ". . .he's still a punk."

6. The Super Bowl is on February 5, Jordan's birthday.

This afternoon seemed like the perfect time to bomb ol' Jordan's page again. We took turns posting some handsome pictures of Mr. Brady to Jordan's page.*

I just love the internet. Think about how long it would have taken to harass little Jordy-Pooh without the wonders of Google and the book of faces!

*Matt would like me to note that he had no part in this torment.

Weekend Roller Coaster

2012-01-23T14:40:00.000-05:00

Cassie and Hugh gave Mitch Camel two years ago. It is still the only toy he won't destroy,

maybe because they "dance" every night before bed. Kind of gross, but mostly just hilarious.

The first part of our weekend was awesomepants. There was Mexican food and frozen yogurt and catching up on TV shows and talking and snuggling with the pup. It was a return to real life that we needed after two months of pretty frequent traveling and visitors. Saturday, I went to Back in the Day Bakery (passed my glucose test which means that I'm now inhaling as many baked goods as I damn well please--should be fun to see the scale at tomorrow's appointment), and finally had the motivation and the energy to begin tackling some of the nagging projects on our "buckle down before baby" to-do list. And since the weather was absolutely glorious, I opened all the windows and rocked out with organizing and purging (trash) and projecting. Hell, I even sewed some stuff and only almost-cried once!

After we smelled burning plastic, it was time to bid adieu to the bistro lanterns. Safety first!

Organizing, but clearly not vacuuming.

Indecision.

I am obsessed with this little walker.

Matt and I had planned to make Sunday a day of delicious feasting and football (I don't care about football but I do like to see Tom Brady throwing and being handsome, and I was just happy the games were on at home so I would have a Matt around all day), and when I went to Publix to get the goods, it had started pouring and the Publix people had me pull my car up to the front of the store where they loaded my groceries for me (see: Publix is amazing)! I came home, kept the windows open, and listened to the rain. And Newt Gingrich won the South Carolina primary! It was awesome.

Until Sunday morning, when I woke up with a stomach bug. "Stomach bug" is way too kind a word for this dehumanizing, awful illness that I had. And then, all day, there was purging of a different variety. Mother F! Everything made me puke. At one point, Matt had gone into the other room to ellipt and I turned the channel to HBO where Valentine's Day was playing. Matt warned me: "Don't watch that, or you'll have to vomit again." I should have heeded his warning, because sure enough, after witnessing about 3 minutes of Ashton Kutcher working at a flower stand, I was saying adios to my glass of ginger ale. On top of feeling like complete horseshit, I kept feeling really guilty, thinking that I was starving the baby. He'd kick and I just knew he was trying to remind me that he needed some food. We're making up for that today, since I'm mostly better, showered, and going all Velveteen Rabbit on our stuff (but with the washer and dryer instead of fire).

Kraft mac & cheese = miracle food. It's not good or good for me, but something about the comfort and

nostalgia of the orangey goodness made it the only thing I could keep down all day.

I'm not at school today (trying to prevent this from happening), and I'm going for a take two. Let's just pretend that yesterday never happened. Except that I just put it on the internet. Shoot.

Let's try this again.

What did you do this weekend? And are you so happy that we'll be seeing handsome Tom Brady again in a couple of weeks?

*Totes loaned my camera to a friend, so we've got all Instagram pictures today. Obviously I'm far behind the times on this one, but what fun!

My Boyfriend Can Sing, Too!

2012-01-21T13:12:00.000-05:00

Love and Marriage

2012-01-20T16:55:00.000-05:00

After getting home from work, starving, and remembering that we had basically no food in the house, I put on my sweatpants, got into bed, and texted Matt: "I need a sandwich or else the fetus will begin to eat my heart." Seconds later, I heard a buzzing. It was the vibration of Matt's phone on his dresser! Oh no! How was I to get a sandwich now?!?!

Now, an exchange when he finally returned home from work, sandwichless.

Me: Well, I was going to just call work but then I thought you might be unnecessarily worried that there was a problem.

Matt: I would have known it was about a sandwich.

Me: Because a lack of sandwiches IS a problem!

Lazy, Negligent, Impressive, and Exciting

2012-01-12T20:06:00.002-05:00

Oh, shoot. I've totally become one of those people who feels the need to apologize in every post for not posting as frequently. So let's just toss out one big giant sorry that will cover all past and future blog negligence. We've been busy soaking up the last couple of months of being a family of three, lying around and snugglin', eating too much (but like 75% healthy food, so that's okay, right?), and watching too much TV*.

The most impressive thing that I've done all week (if you don't include whipping up a batch of candied bacon ice cream) was taking down the Christmas stuff. I think I need to find someone who will do that for pay. Don't you think that person could make tons of money? I mean, who actually likes taking down the Christmas stuff?

The most exciting thing that has happened lately was our discovery of the new dog park that the City of Savannah built FIVE BLOCKS away from our house. I've basically been freaking out about its awesomeness since I found out about it. There are red decorative fire hydrants, and picnic tables (for humans and for dogs), and there's a water source, and. . .wait for it. . .they are putting in dog pools that are SHAPED LIKE BONES! I think this dog park has restored my faith in the universe.

The second most exciting thing that has happened lately is that I only gained 2 pounds over Christmas (for serious--I usually gain ten times that over a normal, non-pregnant Christmas holiday) and I passed my sugar test, so I don't have to feel guilty every time I inhale a loaf of bread or eat a 3 lb. serving of macaroni and cheese. And the boy is looking good in there. It was a little less exciting to learn that his head is measuring three weeks ahead of schedule (thanks, Matt) (giant head for giant brains?), but good to know that the boy is healthy and happy.

And my favorite friend of Matt's came to visit and now I'm trying to find him a bride (preferably not child or mail-order) and a dog so that he'll be less crotchety (but let's be honest--it's his crotchetiness that makes me love him).

We've got a big ol' exciting weekend ahead of us, so stay tuned for that. And I think I'm giving myself a March 1 deadline to have the nursery done, so at this rate it'll only be like four blog posts away.

Baby wolf was so tired after dog park fun.

If you insist on making silly faces, I will put them on the internet.

Goodbye, old friend. I will fill this void in my heart with ice cream.

Why is pot roast so good?

It makes me feel better about myself to put my Sam's club purchases in bags from hipper, more respectable stores.

I think they thought they were in a police lineup.

This man needs a bride. Any takers? Also, should he get a husky or a golden retriever (for a dog, not for a bride)?

Mitch loves his brother. Either that or he is trying to smother him. Let's hope it's the former.

I totes need to wear a big ol' H on my chest. I have hated these 4-d ultrasounds every time I've seen one because I think they are scary and terrifying. But when our sassy ultrasound lady flipped it into 4-d mode (which I didn't even know she could do), I was mesmerized. Also, I think he is about to nibble on his toenails. And Chloe says he is melting.

What was the most impressive or exciting thing that's happened to you all week? And did it involve a pool shaped like a bone?

*I don't know about you, but here at M Cubed we LOVE presidential election time. The Republican primaries have been especially entertaining, though they have caused a little bit of division in our home. Mitch, our staunch Tea Partier, was devastated when Michele Barkman dropped out of the race. It was almost as sad as when his previous favorite, Herman Canine, dropped out. Now he's all about Ron Paw. Matt and I were rooting for any of those, or just for Jon Huntsman--the others because their craziness was sure to lose the GOP the general election, and Huntsman for his actual brains and raw good looks.

Two Down, One to Go

2012-01-04T23:24:00.000-05:00

Today I am 28 weeks, which means that I'm officially in the third trimester. So far I think I've been a little bit of a rock star of a knocked-up gal (excepting, of course, The Great Meltdown of December 30-31, 2011). I've been exercising and eating better than I did before and not been the incarnate of Satan that Matt and I both feared that I would become in this condition. Plus, I can still totally touch my palms to the ground from a standing position, so I'm proud of that.

And tell me that these aren't just the cutest things you ever did see. (Matt says I'm not allowed to try to put one on Mitch. I say I wouldn't do that, duh, because there's no spot for a tail. Plus, Mitch is housebroken. Of course, it would be pretty cute. Get me the scissors!)

I love everything in this picture.

There's so much to be excited about (meeting the boy, decorating a nursery), and so much to be annoyed by (seriously, strangers and students, do not touch me) or afraid of (for real though, I have to push what out of where?), and so much to be fascinated by (the boy can see light now--let the flashlight games commence!). And after I rock the socks off of my glucose test on Monday, I'm going to go on an all cookies and cake and ice cream diet, which should definitely do its part to keep the baby (and me) from getting too gargantuan. I'm basically a nutritionist.

Oh, and on a related note, people are suddenly all interested in how fat I am, so here's a picture that I took in a mirror.

Happy now?

Also, why is it so funny to do this?

Random person [who is probably about to try to touch me]: Oh, I didn't know you were pregnant! When are you due?

Me: I'm not pregnant. What makes you say that?

So funny I can't stand it.

This and That

2012-01-01T23:56:00.000-05:00

Hey there! Happy 2012, peeps. I hope your year is starting off swimmingly. Ours actually is, which is good considering that I spent most of the last two days of 2011 being an emotional, horomonal sissypants. (My hypothesis is that the boy was going through a massive growth spurt, which made me uncomfortable, gigantic, and brought with it a surge of horomones that left me a sobbing mess. If you have proof that that's not what happened, then I don't want to hear it because it's the only way I can explain myself without admitting to be a complete psychopath.)

So we've got some catching up to do, don't we?

1. Mitch is still the cutest dog who's ever lived. He's been polishing off the last of the homemade dog treats that we made in Virginia for all of his dog friends and cousins, which means that Matt and I have been finding little cheesy flax-seeded biscuits buried in blankets and couch cushions all around the house. Right now he is barking at sassing me because Matt is watching football and Mitch hates football. He'd rather go lie in his dirt spot, which is currently a mud spot because it's raining. Seems fitting, since I just made our bed up with all white linens.

2. I love this commercial with my entire heart and soul.

3. I also love these Asian Turkey Meatballs with my entire heart and soul.

4. Matt is a crazy ellipting fool. Did you know that? Did you know that after he implemented a self-improvement plan a year and a half ago he's been the incredible shrinking Matt? And that every time we see someone we haven't seen in a while they say something along the lines of, "Oh, wow, Matt! You look great! What is your secret? Amazing! Oh, hi, Mandy." It's extra fun now, you know, now that he's knocked me up and I'm getting fatter by the second.

5. Oh em gee! I totes forgot to tell you that my former almost fiance Matty Fraker who owns the cupcakery in Richmond, Frostings, was on Cupcake Wars tonight. It replays on Tuesday at 8 p.m., so if you have the chance you should totally watch it. Shoot yeah, Matty!

6. Have you watched Downton Abbey? If you haven't, you totally should. It's pretty and smart and a little bit soap opera-y but not stupid. AND, it's on Netflix Instant, so you have no excuse not to watch it. There are only 7 episodes in the first season (oh, silly British television's short seasons), but season 2 begins again soon. Plus, it has the handsome Matthew Crowley who is handsome and has a nice accent and looks good in a tuxedo and is also handsome.

7. Not really doing any New Year's resolutions this year because I'm a little busy gestating a human, and all I really want to do is get through the year without being a psycho. So that's my resolution: not to be a psycho. Shecky says that saying not to be a psycho is too definite and possibly unattainable, so I should actually make the resolution to be less of a psycho. Either way. My goal is for the crazy to be on the decline. How's about that?

8. Our New Year's Eve was pretty lame, even by our homebody standards. Matt had to work, and I was in such a foul mood that I went shopping with a scowl on my face, so I went to Publix and bought a no sugar added reduced fat cheesecake (which was surprisingly good) and some sugar-free Jello (can you tell I have a glucose test fast approaching?). I ate half of the cheesecake (it was a little one), and still felt like an angry troll, so I decided to take a nap around 9:00, in the hopes that I would wake up a better person. Surprisingly, it worked. I woke up when my neighbors started setting off fireworks at midnight, ate a bowl of booze-less Jello, and Matt and I watched Downton Abbey (seriously, go watch it now). So the 2011 part of New Year's Eve sucked, but the 2012 part was pretty nice.

So that's what's going on here. Was crazy, am not crazy now, hope not to be crazy in the future. Dogs are cute and cheesecake is delicious.

How is your 2012 shaping up?

Christmas!

2011-12-28T14:05:00.000-05:00

Well, you haven't heard about our Christmas yet because we were on a super top-secret trip (well, top-secret to Matt's mom) to Virginia. We left home on Thursday night, drove through the night, and surprised Matt's mom by standing (probably somewhat creepily) at the foot of her bed when she woke up Friday morning.

And for the next four days we shopped and ate and cooked and were spoiled rotten and and saw old friends and put together Barbie townhouses (damn you, elevator!) and basically did experiments to see just how much food the ol' human body could consume without actually exploding.

Right now, after sitting in the car for most of the day yesterday with soaking wet, cold jeans and a dog who would only rest if he could also steal my pillow and blanket, I feel like this.

But I'm working to muster up the energy to ellipt, and the I will reward myself with a trip to Target, because I haven't been to my home Target in like 5 days and I miss my favorite cashier and I have gift cards to use and I think I'm in dire need of a pair of work pants that won't put a giant dent in my child's head.

So, what about you? How was your Christmas? What'd you do? What'd you get?

Dino-Brite!

2011-12-19T19:36:00.000-05:00

So, like a year or so ago, I saw this little craft project on Martha Stewart and flipped out over its awesomeness.

I also figured that, assuming that I didn't use Martha's $2,000 canvas and her $95 paint, I could do this one on the cheap. Originally, I wanted to put this in our living room on the mantle, so I painted it the color that I paint pretty much everything in our house these days: light turquoise. I didn't know what design to do, and I figured that I wouldn't start the actual project until I knew for sure, until I had that "Oh, there you are, Peter" moment.

And then I got knocked up, and I decided that the grown-up lite brite didn't need to be grown-up at all, because it would be awesome as nursery decor, and could also function as a nightlight for little ole' Blast and for us. So then I decided that it needed to be a shark.

But, after careful consideration, I decided that 1.) I needed to repaint the canvas because Blast's room is already light turquoise, and 2.) a shark might be too scary. (Trying to use all of my allotted scaring-the-bab tokens for telling him about Krampus.) So, after a very informal polling of friends, I decided to instead paint the canvas orange and to do a design that was even be better. A DINOSAUR!

So here's how the process went.

1. Paint canvas. (Using little sample thing of paint from Home Depot--$3)

2. Borrow overhead projector from school. (Def made it easier for me, but you could totes do this project without one.)

3. Google "brontosaurus silhouette" and find this.

4. Trace silhouette onto transparency.

5. Pencil silhouette onto back of canvas.

Maybe next I should work on actually putting pictures in the frames in our gallery wall?

6. Mark spots for lights to go through with a pencil.
7. Cut small slits into canvas with an exacto knife where lights would go.
8. Pop lights through spots.

And, voila!

I actually used button lights from Target, which worked perfectly for this project because of their size. You can do it with regularly-sized lights, but you'll need to use craft glue or a glue gun to secure each light. I would highly recommend using the button lights because they're not only much simpler, but you can also easily replace the strand if the strand goes kaput.

Also, you should know that it is really hard to get a good picture of the dino-brite, especially if you're impatient and hungry and wishing that you were lying on the couch watching Parenthood instead. The dino-brite looks approximately 50 times better in person. Plus, it only cost like $15 to do, which makes me happy because I'm a cheaposaurus.

Mitch is also a big fan.

Now I kind of want to make a million of these, so I've been trying to think of other shapes and designs to do. A bicycle! A squirrel! A snowflake! A Mitch!

What else?

Krampus!

2011-12-18T17:24:00.000-05:00

So, I've mentioned before that my parents never taught my brother or me about Santa Claus. They also didn't let us go trick-or-treating. (But our sister, who is 15 years younger than me, both believed in Santa and got to go trick-or-treating. It seems that by the time you're on your third kid you don't care if it frolics around with Satan.) And while I'm very bitter about being denied the chance to go door-to-door seeking out candy, I'm kind of whatevs about the whole Santa thing. I think I even enjoyed the power that came with being the only kid in the first grade who wasn't so silly as to believe in some bearded fat guy coming down a chimney. Plus, even if my parents had tried to tell us about Santa, our belief would have been short-lived because I was the master at finding my presents hidden around the house.

Matt, on the other hand, believed in Santa [for an appropriate amount of time], and enjoyed the magic and wonder that accompanied the whole North Pole/fat man/elf/toys legend.

Now, as Matt and I have these weird moments where we realize that this time next year there will be a [likely mobile] little human in our home, we're faced with some big decisions. Do I really have to make my beautiful tree kid-friendly? What do we do when Mitch steals the baby's toys? What do we do when the baby steals Mitch's toys? Can a 9-month old eat marshmallows? And, finally, Are we going to tell our kid about Santa?

Now, next year we're probably in the clear, but the year after that we have to know. And I'm a little blah about telling the kid about Santa, but Matt thinks we probably should. Actually, I should say that I was a little blah about telling the kid about Santa, until I learned about the best part of the Santa story that nobody ever told me.

Krampus.

Now, you're probably way more hip and knowledgeable than I am, and you've probably known about Krampus for decades, but I just found out about him. But if you're like me and didn't know, well, let me fill you in. Krampus, according to the almighty Wikipedia, is a scary/evil mythical creature recognized in Alpine countries who accompanies Santa on his Christmas Eve journey around the world. While Santa leaves gifts for the good children, Krampus kidnaps the bad children, puts them in his sack, and takes them back to his lair where he devours them for his Christmas supper.

Amazing!

Please please please can we tell our kid about Krampus? It just makes the whole Santa story come alive for me! Matt says it might be too scary (especially when I suggested that if our little spawn had been bad, then I could plant a burlap sack that was stamped "Property of Krampus" somewhere in the house) and Shecky said that it borders on child abuse. But people, think of all of the fun possibilities!*

I tried to argue to Matt that there is no crime in Alpine countries**, and that it was probably because people believed in Krampus there. He rebutted that, no, instead they have really high suicide rates. Then he stopped, thought, and added, "Or maybe those weren't suicides. Maybe Krampus just ate them all."

So, it's big grown-up decision-making time. Do we tell our kid about Krampus or no?

*Like, "Oh, I used to have a brother named Darryl, but he got taken by the Krampus when he was six" or "See this scar on my arm? It's from where Krampus grabbed me when I was seven. I narrowly escaped."

**Which is probably not true at all.

Video Therapy

2011-12-14T20:49:00.001-05:00

The days leading up to Christmas break can be a little wild, and sometimes I begin to wonder about the direction my life has taken, you know, when I utter sentences like, "Stop hitting him with that Slim Jim" or when I have to insist that there was nothing racial in my request that a student put away his box of Chicken in a Biscuit* crackers. This break is going to be much-deserved, methinks.

And since my brain has pretty much been fried, and I've spent much of the last few weeks being pissed off or frustrated (But not this week. This week is going swimmingly. Don't mess with me, universe!), I've resorted to a few little comfort tactics to keep myself sane. One of these tactics involves food (I know you're really surprised about that), but since I saw that I'd put on five pounds last month**, I'm working to scale that strategy back.

One of my other favorite tactics is great because it makes me smile without taking up too much time. I like to watch favorite scenes from movies and tv shows or music videos. They provide a little pick-me-up (since margaritas are out for the time being) and lighten my mood. And I wanted to share some of these scenes with you. So, without further ado, here they are.

1. Love Actually cute guy with signs. This is how Matt and I ended up getting together. Except not. But for now, let's just pretend. (And while you're at it, go watch Hugh Grant dancing, too.)

2. Buddy the Elf. Pretty much all of Elf is my favorite, but I'm only putting this one because I love the song so much.

3. The final scene from Dirty Dancing. I particularly enjoy the part where Johnny squints his eyes and mouths the words "And I owe it all to you" to Baby. I also really love when he jumps off the stage in the most manly of ways.

4. C-Lo Green's "Fuck You." Why is it that I'm so unhip that I didn't know about this song until Tanya put it on a car CD that I demanded she burn for me? And why did it take me listening to the song approximately 30 times before I realized what he was saying? Grandma, you might even like this one. It's awfully catchy.

5. The final scene from Slumdog Millionaire. One of my students asked me the other day if I was going to name the baby Jamal, and I actually considered it, you know, with the hope that our spawn would be as sweet and delightful as Jamal from the movie.

6. Cool Hand Luke eats 50 eggs. This is kind of gross, but mostly just awesome.

7. Wet Hot American Summer's big secret pizza party. Always made me want to be a camp counselor and wear cutoff jean shorts.

8. Don Draper says "What?" So much handsome I can hardly stand it.

9. Run Forrest, Run. Love that kid's face.

10. All things Coach Taylor. I want to see him in a handsome-off with Don Draper.

11. Top Gun. I almost put the volleyball scene here, but this one's better. That's right. I am dangerous.

Those are just a few of my favorites. What am I missing?

*Those crackers are so disgusting and so delicious at the same time. I should have confiscated them!

**Upon reflection, I've realized that I really did spend the entire month being cocky and gluttonous, and it turns out that it wasn't consequence-free. Who knew? PLUS, I was wearing shoes instead of flip-flops, and when I went home and weighed them on my food scale, they weighed over a pound! So I only gained 4 lbs. Plus, I'm sure the baby has gained like three pounds in the last month, so I only gained one pound. Plus, I'm pretty sure it was a full moon and there was more of a gravitational pull, so that would account for another 2. So, really, I lost a pound. Right? Right? It's amazing that I was able to eat so much last month and still lose a pound.

Weekend Fun

2011-12-12T00:27:00.000-05:00

This weekend was as lovely as the week preceding it was annoying. After four days of work that turned me into a cranky, grumpy, mean, horrible shrew, the last couple of days have been lazy and warm and delicious and perfect. And in only five more days (or 111 hours, but, really, who's counting?), I'll be on Christmas break, which is basically the best thing ever.

Today was especially wonderful. I watched 5 episodes of Parenthood (and even got Matt sucked into it), snuggled with my cuddle soulmate pup, and I tried to see just how many things Matt would get for me so that I wouldn't have to get off of the couch. (He drew the line at bedpan. We don't even have a bedpan.) We stayed in our pajamas until late afternoon and ordered delivery so that we wouldn't have to do anything but lie around in our cozy, Christmasy living room.

Here's what it's looking like around here these days.

Some of the Christmas decor didn't survive the Savannah summer.

Get out of here with the beauty that is snowflake-shaped marshmallows!

Completely in love with the Christmas tree. It was the first one we looked at, and it is perfect.

Because 1-800-Pet-Meds boxes come with a treat inside, Mitch has decided that all packages contain treats for him.

Brown sugaring. Did you know that brown sugar is just white sugar with molasses? I didn't know that until recently, and now I'm determined never to buy brown sugar again.

Omigod, this dinner was delicious. Adapted from this recipe, except that we used the juice from two lemons and, since we needed bacon fat anyway, we went ahead and added 1/3 lb. bacon, too.

Hope you have a great week. And I hope the next 111 hours go by in a flash!

Christmas to Me

2011-12-06T22:11:00.001-05:00

Oh man, I'm kind of disappointed with myself because here I am, almost two weeks after Thanksgiving, and the only Christmas decoration I have up in my house is a strand of lights that I draped over a curtain rod to make it feel like the tree is here. I did manage to get the Christmas stuff down from the attic, but it's just sitting here in boxes. There's no tree smell in our house because we don't have our tree yet, and the rooms are woefully devoid of my garish and gaudy Christmas decor.

The mantle last year. Or the year before that. Who knows?

And because I've been so busy/lazy (Matt says that the only difference between my awake self and my asleep self is whether the ipod in my hand is illuminated), I haven't even managed to muster up the excitement about Christmas that I usually have. Shoot. But I'm working on it. And I've decided to start here, with an essay that is sure to ignite in me some excitement for Christmas.

I didn't even know that this essay existed until a couple of months ago when I was teaching To Kill a Mockingbird to my ninth graders and one of my coworkers loaned me a new documentary about Harper Lee and the book, Hey, Boo: Harper Lee and To Kill a Mockingbird. If you're a big fan of the book (and, for real though, why wouldn't you be?), I'd really recommend putting this documentary on your Netflix queue*. It was engaging enough to keep 37 ninth graders awake at 8:00 in the morning, and it had this really interesting little story in it, which Lee wrote about in "Christmas to Me." So now I'll turn things over to ol' Harpy (she loves it when you call her that), even though I'm a little loath to put my words right next to hers. Enjoy.

Christmas to Me: an essay by Harper Lee

Several years ago, I was living in New York and working for an airline, so I never got home to Alabama for Christmas—if, indeed, I got the day off. To a displaced Southerner, Christmas in New York can be rather a melancholy occasion, not because the scene is strange to one far from home, but because it is familiar: New York shoppers evince the same singleness of purpose as slow moving Southerners; Salvation Army bands and Christmas carols are alike the world over: at that time of year, New York streets shine wet with the same gentle farmer’s rain that soaks Alabama’s winter fields.

I missed Christmas away from home, I thought. What I really missed was a memory, an old memory of people long since gone, of my grandparents’ house bursting with cousins, smilax, and holly. I missed the sound of hunting boots, the sudden open-door gusts of chilly air that cut through the aroma of pine needles and oyster dressing. I missed my brother’s night-before-Christmas mask of rectitude and my father’s bumblebee bass humming “Joy to the World.”

In New York, I usually spent the day, or what was left of it, with my closest friends in Manhattan. They were a young family in periodically well-to-do circumstances. Periodically, because the head of the household employed the precarious craft of writing for their living. He was brilliant and lively; his one defect of character was an inordinate love of puns. He possessed a trait curious not only in a writer but in a young man with dependents; there was about him a quality of fearless optimism—not of the wishing-makes-it-so variety, but that of seeing an attainable goal and daring to take risks in its pursuit. His audacity sometimes left his friends breathless—who in his circumstances would venture to buy a townhouse in Manhattan? His shrewd generalship made the undertaking successful: while most young people are content to dream of such things, he made his dream a reality for his family and satisfied his tribal longing for his own ground beneath his feet. He had come to New York from the Southwest and, in a manner characteristic of all natives thereof, had found the most beautiful girl in the east and married her.

To this ethereal, utterly feminine creature were born two strapping sons, who, as they grew, discovered that their fragile mother packed a wallop that was second to nobody’s. Her capacity to love was enormous, and she spent hours in her kitchen, producing dark, viscous delights for her family and friends.

They were a handsome pair, healthy in mind and body, happy in their extremely active lives. Common interests as well as love drew me to them: and endless flow of reading material circulated amongst us; we took pleasure in the same theatre, films, music: we laughed at the same things, and we laughed so much in those days.

Our Christmases together were simple. We limited our gifts to pennies and wits and all-out competition. Who would come up with the most outrageous for the least? The real Christmas was for the children, an idea I found totally compatible, for I had long ago ceased to speculate on the meaning of Christmas as anything other than a day for children. Christmas to me was only a memory of old loves and empty rooms, something I buried with the past that underwent a vague, aching resurrection every year.

One Christmas, though, was different. I was lucky. I had the whole day off, and I spent Christmas Eve with them. When morning came, I awoke to a small hand kneading my face. “Dup,” was all its owner had time to say. I got downstairs just in time to see the little boys’ faces as they beheld the pocket rockets and space equipment Santa Claus had left them. At first, their fingers went almost timidly over their toys. When their inspection had been completed, the two boys dragged everything into the center of the living room.

Bedlam prevailed until they discovered there was more. As their father began distributing gifts, I grinned to myself, wondering how my exceptionally wily unearthments this year would be received. His was a print of a portrait of Sydney Smith I’d found for thirty-five cents; hers was the complete works of Margot Asquith, the result of a year’s patient search. The children were in agonies of indecision over which package to open next, and as I waited, I noticed that while a small stack of present mounted beside their mother’s chair, I had received not a single one. My disappointment was growing steadily, but I tried not to show it.

They took their time. Finally she said, “We haven’t forgotten you. Look on the tree.”

There was an envelope on the tree, addressed to me. I opened it and read: “You have one year off from your job to write whatever you please. Merry Christmas.”

“What does this mean?” I asked.

“What it says,” I was told.

They assured me that it was not some sort of joke. They’d had a good year, they said. They’d saved some money and thought it was high time they did something about me.

“What do you mean, do something about me?”

To tell the truth—if I really wanted to know—they thought I had a great talent, and—

“What makes you think that?”

It was plain to anyone who knew me, they said, if anyone would stop to look. They wanted to show their faith in me the best way they knew how. Whether I ever sold a line was immaterial. They wanted to give me a full, fair chance to learn my craft, free from the harassments of a regular job. Would I accept their gift? There were no strings at all. Please accept, with their love.

It took some time to find my voice. When I did, I asked if they were out of their minds. What made them think anything would come of this? They didn’t have that kind of money to throw away. A year was a long time. What if the children came down with something horrible? As objection crowded upon objection, each was overruled. “We’re all young,” they said. “We can cope with whatever happens. If disaster strikes, you can always find a job of some kind. Okay, consider it a loan, then, if you wish. We just want you to accept. Just permit us to believe in you. You must.”

“It’s a fantastic gamble,” I murmured. “It’s such a great risk.”

My friend looked around his living room, at his boys, half buried under a pile of bright Christmas wrapping paper. His eyes sparkled as they met his wife’s, and they exchanged a glance of what seemed to me insufferable smugness. Then he looked at me and said softly; “No, honey. It’s not a risk. It’s a sure thing.”

Outside, snow was falling, an odd event for a New York Christmas. I went to the window, stunned by the day’s miracle. Christmas trees blurred softly across the street, and firelight made the children’s shadows dance on the wall beside me. A full, fair chance for a new life. Not given me by an act of generosity, but by an act of love. Our faith in you was really all I had heard them say. I would do my best not to fail them. Snow still fell on the pavement below. Brownstone roofs gradually whitened. Lights in distant skyscrapers shone with yellow symbols of a road’s lonely end, and as I stood at the window, looking at the lights and the snow, the ache of an old memory left me forever.

This essay was originally published in McCall’s in December 1961.

*Oh, hey, there's a word I can play to use up all of those damned U's I have in Words with Friends!

Hey There!

2011-12-05T21:54:00.000-05:00

Pssssht. Last week was hard. After a full week off for Thanksgiving, I returned to the harsh reality that, well, work is hard. And kids are annoying right before Christmas. And accreditation years at school are their own personal hell. It was one of those weeks where I had to groan and pout and peel myself out of bed each morning, and where the only thing I wanted to do when I got home was take a coma nap. So that's what happened. There were coma naps and that was about it.

But this weekend brought with it returned motivation, a can-do attitude, and enough energy for me to become, (as Cassie always puts it and I always want to steal, but then I don't want to steal because then I'm a big fat stealer) "a whirling dervish of productivity." And then I was feeling back on top of the world. While the Christmas tasks aren't even close to being done, the miserable school tasks are well on their way--or at least enough on their way that I don't have to worry about them when I exit my classroom.

I'm so happy right now. Happy that we have 1 1/2 episodes of Boardwalk Empire to catch up on, that my Christmas cards are ordered (and that I didn't have to pay anything for them because I won a $100 Shutterfly credit earlier this year!), happy that maybe--just maybe!--Newt Gingrich will be the Republican nominee, and happy that there's a big bowl of peppermint marshmallows just waiting for me to go ellipt so that I can eat them up without feeling guilty. I'm happy that I get to read one of my faves, The Great Gatsby, with my juniors twice every day, and I'm happy that after nine more school days I won't have to see those same juniors for a while. I'm happy that we're getting our tree this week and that I get to make my house into a really busy, super tacky, a little bit white-trash winter wonderland. And I'm happy that I get to share this fun Christmas season with the cutest dog ever and the best husband ever and an active little fetus who's been going all Michael Flatley* on my insides today.

Here's what it's been looking like around here.

Mitch needed to help load the refrigerator with beer.

And tell Matt a very funny secret.

This is how far I am with Christmas decorating.

Cupcakes for a baby shower! You probably forgot that I'm basically a professional baker.

Pup was feeling a little down this weekend, which was probably more upsetting to Matt and me than it was to him.

Talking to Shecky on speakerphone during ellipting. It's kind of awesome.

Peppermint creamy goodness.

Human child has some work to do if he's going to be cuter than his brother.

This totes could have been our Christmas card photo--you know, if Mitch didn't look like he had rabies and I didn't look like a ghost. Oh well.

Soul. Mates.

Happy week to you! May it be full of marshmallows and Nucky Thompson. And dogs. Always dogs.

*His legs flail about as though independent of his body!

Thanksgiving!

2011-11-28T23:36:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving was absolutely wonderful around here. The weather was glorious, the food was fattening, the dogs were cute, the couch was comfortable. I had the whole week off (!), and enjoyed every single minute of it. This past weekend, Chloe and I trekked down to Orlando to visit with our family down there where we ate and were spoiled rotten.

The week was happy and full and fun and relaxing and exactly what I needed. Miss Chloe was an absolute delight, and I was very sad to see her go today. Our human child will be very luck to have such a fun, cool aunt.

Here's what our holiday looked like, in way, way too many pictures.

Well, hello there, 75 degrees!

Pumpkin crunch at Back in the Day. I want to go to there. For serious.

Torturing Reilly.

Bought this table at a thrift store for $10. Definitely thought it was smaller than it was. The guys at the store didn't have any rope to tie it in my car, so they tied ties together. So for $10, I got a table and four ties. Score!

Mmmmmmm, Vinnie's.

Chloe hearts crumbly pie crust ice cream topping. She tried to take it with us to see Breaking Dawn. Yes, we went to see Breaking Dawn. In other news, I hate Bella. And Edward and Jacob are both gross.

Thanksgiving morning pumpkin pancakes with cranberries.

Angry Birds break.

I'm obsessed with this cranberry apple casserole.

Totes slept in that shirt and wore it all Thanksgiving day.

Dog plates.

Chloe became obsessed with making sweater skirts using old sweaters and this tutorial.

Watching skydivers in Florida.

Grandma and Darcey.

"This is how the queen waves."

Chloe also became obsessed with marshmallowing. After we made a batch of peppermint at Grandma's, I talked her through making another batch of vanilla once we got back home. You know what I always say: "Give a girl a marshmallow, and you feed her for a day. Teach a girl to marshmallow and you feed her for a lifetime."

So it's back to real life now. Fortunately, I really like my real life (even if I do have to be at work at 7:00). Also, fortunately, Christmas vacation starts on the 16th. Fourteen school days and counting. . .

Love and Marriage: Grandpa B and Grandma Carol Edition

2011-11-27T22:25:00.001-05:00

Well, our Thanksgiving has been absolutely wonderful, and I'm trying to soak up the last couple of hours of sister time (Chloe and Matt are currently discussing zombies and predicting who will bite it on tonight's episode of The Walking Dead).

I'll fill you in on more later (food galore! shopping! adventure!), but I just couldn't wait to show you the greatest thing that has ever been: Grandpa B on his new three-wheeled bicycle.

I can't wait to retire.

And I needed to share this gem.

[After dinner, with the kitchen full of dishes, Grandpa B walks to the dishwasher and opens it.]

Grandpa B: Um, Grandma, are these dishes clean or dirty?

Grandma Carol: Clean.

Grandpa B: Oh, shit.

[Closes dishwasher and walks away.]

Happy Happy, Joy Joy!

2011-11-21T22:13:00.000-05:00

Here's what I love right now.

1. I love that I will be picking up my baby sister in like eleven hours. You remember her, right? Here's what she looks like.

2. I love that Thanksgiving is fast approaching, and that we have a low-stress-high-gluttony holiday planned. I also love that I have like 22 pounds of cranberries (oh, Sam's club. . .) and I get to have fun thinking of ways to use them (sorbet? pancakes? so many ideas!).

3. I love the little lizards who have been hanging out on my screens all day.

4. I love that my husband will lovingly nudge me in the direction of ellipting without calling me a cow--even when I try to avoid ellipting by pretending to have fainting spells. I also love that he will bring me mini snickers bars to eat while I am on the elliptical.

5. I love using the handicapped bathroom. I especially love it when it means I get my very own sink.

6. I love these happy dogs.

7. I love pot roast.

8. I love that I took my car into the shop this morning, and then got a coupon for $50 from our mechanic in the mail before I went to pick up the car. I also love our mechanic.

9. I LOVE having a whole week off of work.

10. I love that I spent hours cleaning the house today, and that my house is cleaner than it's been in months, and that I had the windows open all day because we had a high of 80 degrees today--and the highs all week are supposed to be in the 70's and 80's.

Fun days ahead! Don't be mad if you don't hear from us. There should be lots to share upon our return. Eat turkey until it hurts and drink a glass of wine (or five) for me!

Movie Star

2011-11-16T20:50:00.000-05:00

If you're interested, check out the little video of Blast from this week's appointment. He starts opening his mouth around 1:40, which is my favorite. Oh, and he's still a boy. No Rachel situation here.

And if you're so inclined, check out his rabies-afflicted big brother barking at his bone on the bed.

Are you totally judging me for being the person who just put a video of her ultrasound on the internet? Yeah, I kind of am, too. In my defense, though. . .oh shoot, I've got nothing. If I can't get drunk or ride roller coasters, though, I've got to do something to entertain myself.

Does This Mean I Have to Eat a Lamppost?

2011-11-14T22:03:00.000-05:00

He's singin' in the. . .

. . .amniotic fluid.

Weekend Fun

2011-11-13T23:32:00.000-05:00

This was one of those weekends where I did very little, which was exactly as planned. As promised days ago, there was some ellipting, there were many episodes of Parenthood, and there was lots of eating. There were two lunch dates, and there was some shopping (almost finished Christmas shopping!)--until I remembered that I was avoiding teenagers for the weekend and that, perhaps, the mall wasn't the best place to go on a Saturday night. One student sighting was enough to send me on my merry way, back home to the warm embrace of Netflix instant, fresh sheets, and a dog who acts like he may have rabies.

Right now I'm happy and motivated because I've only got five more days of school until Thanksgiving (I'll give thanks for a whole week off!), and my favorite sister is going to be here visiting. Five days. Piece of cake. Or, as it should be said, bowl of pumpkin cheesecake ice cream (which will be making an appearance at our Thanksgiving feast). And tomorrow we have a doctor's appointment and get to have an ultrasound. It'll be nice to see little Blast. We haven't seen him in like two months.

Oh, and I'm happy, too, because my favorite old couple team on The Amazing Race is kicking ass and taking names. And because I just ate four tacos.

Here's what our weekend looked like. It's all food, which is about right.

Make this chicken. Make this chicken tonight. For serious!

Bacon jam sandwich from Back in the Day!

Scurvy prevention.

Hope you have a lovely week. What have you been eating? Are you finished Christmas shopping? Does your dog have rabies?

This and That

2011-11-10T17:13:00.000-05:00

Here's what's been awesome around here lately.

1. Last Friday a friend loaned us her passes to the Savannah Film Festival where we went to see the Director's Choice film, where the movie isn't announced beforehand. So we were super pleasantly surprised when the movie turned out to be The Muppets! We were the first audience in the world to see the movie (see: we are important and influential). Not surprisingly, the movie was fantastic, and I smiled the entire time. My face hurt afterward. Go see it when it comes out. (It's way better than this trailer might suggest.)

2. Also, when we were at the film festival on Friday, I saw this handsome man walk past, and I kind of recognized him. I told Matt that I thought that had been a famous actor man, because he was handsome and because he was dressed like a famous actor man and because there were all of these people who seemed to be treating him like he was really important. Old Roommate Cris had mentioned that James Marsden was in town, and I told Matt that maybe that had been him. Matt then proceeded to list off everything that James Marsden had done that he knew (X-Men, Modern Family, etc.) and I couldn't place him. I couldn't place him until, right before The Muppets, they gave some award to James Marsden and showed a montage of all of his very important and influential work. Then I realized where I knew him from: 27 Dresses. Oh yes, my Saturday night HBO guilty pleasure movie. Matt shook his head in shame and likely contemplated divorce. Hell, at least I didn't recognize him from Bride Wars, right? Right?

3. During a conversation with my coteacher yesterday about cord blood storage, one of my best students walked into our conversation and asked, "Whore's blood? Like a harlot?" Love that kid.

4. Really, really pleased with myself because last week I found a BOB Revolution stroller on Craigslist for $100. And it's awesome, and smooth and beautiful and I'm really obsessed with it. Mitch, however, seems to think that this is just another form of a bicycle (and Mitch HATES bicycles), so he pretty much just barks at it and is less than thrilled when Matt and I chase him around the house with it. I think that once he begins to associate the stroller with walks, though, he'll warm up to it. Hell, the stroller has a weight limit of 70 pounds, so if I could get him strapped in correctly, I could put Mitch in it! Should've gotten a double stroller. . .

5. Three-day weekend, three-day weekend, three-day weekend! I've got grand plans of doing very little and of eating much. There will be naps. There will be Parenthood marathons. There will be some ellipting. There will be nary a teenager. Shoot yeah!

Happy days to you!

Birthday Gift Idea!

2011-11-09T21:50:00.000-05:00

I need this.

Um, yeah, The Back in the Day Bakery Cookbook will be available in March, and if I don't get it I will kick and scream.

If that's not enough to persuade you, check out their awesome little trailer for the book. Then get thee to the Back in the Day Bakery and bring me back a bacon jam sandwich. And maybe a cupcake. And some 'nana puddin'. Let's get on that.

Get here already, March!

Patents Pending

2011-11-08T20:44:00.000-05:00

So, I know my blog performance of late has been, well, lamesville at best.* Sorry about that. Honestly, I'm conflicted because I've spent so many years now being annoyed by annoying pregnant women who only ever talk about being pregnant and the miracle of life and blah blah blah vomit, and I'm probably now overcompensating now by just saying nothing at all since so many of my thoughts are consumed by this current endeavor and what will happen when we actually have a baby to take care of. It's a tough job making sure you don't become the thing you hate.

What I'm going to try to work on is balance. I want to share what's going on here (lame, boring-to-everyone-but-me pregnancy stories included), but to find a way to care about other stuff, too. Important stuff like baked goods and ice cream and television and politics and stuff that doesn't have to do with fetuses or expanding body parts.

Let's start with this.

The Baggy Winecoat, a.k.a., "Someone has stolen one of my great idas." I knew I should have gotten a patent when, like six years ago on St. Patrick's Day, Old Roommate Cris and I developed an idea to make a purse that would hold the bag from a box of wine. My idea was less fancy than this one, granted, since it basically involved getting some ice packs and cutting the corner out of a messenger bag, but still.**

Now, before someone goes and steals another one of my amazing idea inventions, I want to tell you about a couple more. You know, for proof. I've already shared ash packets (still don't know why so many of you found that disturbing), so don't go trying to snag that one. It's been documented. ON THE INTERNET.

Here's my next awesomepants idea. This one was developed with Tanya after we go lost in some pretty scary neighborhoods in Baltimore during high school. We decided that we should develop maps that are color-colded according to crime rates so that people would know which spots to avoid. Way back when, these would have been paper maps, but now this idea will take the form of an app. And with GPS and stuff, you could even sort your data by type of crime! Wouldn't that be awesome? The GPS lady could be all, "Danger, danger! Get on outta here!" and then you'd know to avoid that neighborhood.

Okay, and here's the idea that is really just incredible. Caitie and I came up with this senior year of college when we were discussing our favorite flavors of popular candies. Let's take Skittles, for example. What's your favorite color? Mine is red. But Matt's is green. Caitie and I decided initially that the candy companies should make bags of all one flavor, like all red or all green (but not all purple, because, seriously, who loves purple the most? That's like loving the purple freeze-e-pop the most, which is basically like being a dirty communist.). But then we thought that too much of a good thing could be bad, so we decided that they should make bags that are like 75% the favorite flavor and 25% everything else. We'd call them Mostlies. Mostly red, or mostly green. But not mostly purple, because we are a righteous people.

So, those are my ideas, the best that I've been able to come up with in my thirty and a half years on this planet. Don't even think about stealing them. I already lost this game once to the developers of the ol' Baggy Winecoat (which I totally want come April, by the way).

*Would totes love to be all, "Oh man, I've been so busy at work and ellipting that I haven't had time to blog!" But you're all smart internet readers and you know that the translation of that would be "Oh man, I've been so busy eating Halloween candy that I got for 50% off that I've been in a sugar coma and then having to ellipt to keep from getting gestational diabetes." Shoot.

**And, no, it's not possible at all that two people could come up with the same amazing idea.

2011-11-05T23:59:00.000-04:00

My favorite type of person is a cranky old curmudgeon. (My other favorite type of person is a dog. My other favorite type of person is George Clooney.)

You can imagine, then, how bummed I am that Andy Rooney has died.

So watch this, and don't trim your eyebrows, and grow to be old and cranky if you're not already.

This and That

2011-10-30T22:29:00.000-04:00

1. Made a birthday cake for my teacher friend's mom's 95th birthday this week. She wanted caramel icing, which I'd never made and was, quite frankly, a little afraid of. I used this recipe, and it took a while. But that was okay, because I had Brothers & Sisters streaming the whole time. And apparently the icing was exactly what they wanted. Shoot yeah!

2. Also, I am completely out of Brothers & Sisters episodes. I don't know what makes me more sad--that I don't have any more episodes to watch, or that I spent days of my life watching like 110 episodes of that show. But, since it's over, I need something new. I'm trying out Parenthood, and I've ordered season 1 of Six Feet Under. It needs to be something I haven't seen already because I need it to to keep me interested during ellipting, but it can't be too brainy (looking at you, The Wire) because I also want to watch it as a precursor to nap. Any suggestions?

3. Oh, also, while I was making caramel icing, I was on the step where I had to melt sugar in a cast iron skillet. I know caramel can be temperamental, and I didn't want it to burn, so while the sugar was bubbling, I decided to stick my finger right in it to check if it tasted burnt. Yeah, that felt good. Blast sure is learning some interesting language now, isn't he? So I've been spending some time nursing my poor finger lately.

4. Totes did some home repair work last weekend in the guest room/nursery. I read in a book that you're not supposed to feed your baby a diet of paint chips, so something needed to be done. Well, shoot. So there was scraping and sanding and hole-filling and sanding again and painting and curtain rod and new curtain hanging. Now the room looks clean and inviting instead of like some evil alien lair.

5. Remember how I went all bananas for my Tempurpedic travel pillow? Well, I lost it for a while, but found it under our bed last weekend while cleaning. Then, a couple of mornings ago, I woke up to find that Mitch had snagged my pillow and was using it. I guess we need to get a new one? Also, what kind of spoiled dog needs a Tempurpedic pillow?

6. Started a youtube playlist at school because they blocked Pandora. I added the 500 Days of Summer theme song to my list, but when it started playing, it played Patrick Swayze's "She's Like the Wind." Well if that isn't a wonderful Friday surprise, what is? She leads me to moonlight, only to burn me with the sun!

7. I think I might be starting to look actually pregnant instead of just pregnant with garlic bread and sandwiches. My jeans still fit and stuff, but I think there might be a little bit of a uterus lump now. Anyway, yesterday I went to try on some of the maternity jeans that Ann gifted me (thanks, Ann!), and I realized that they were insanely comfortable. I mean, they were basically all of the comfort of pajama jeans, but with the look of actual jeans! So I wore them, and I slept in them, and I haven't really taken them off since yesterday. Is it appropriate to wear maternity jeans for the rest of my life?

8. Oh, also, my face has broken out like a sombitch. My skin hasn't looked this bad since I was in ninth grade, before I realized that I can't use soap on it. And this really pisses me off because in my special deal with the universe I got a few things: a decent level of intelligence (ignore the incident from #3), good hand-eye coordination, manageable hair, and nice skin. And now, since I've been hosting Blast, my face looks like the before picture in a Proactiv ad. This is some bull jive, universe! We're in a fight.

9. Don't forget to vote for the Savannah Humane Society! Mitch thanks you!

May your week be free from injuries and full of candy!