summer finds a sharpie

Deliberate haste

Over our roughly 5 years of matrimony, I've discovered that once Emily has convinced herself of a course of action, she'll pursue it with all fury until she's just barely made it past the point of no return. At that point, she'll become momentarily overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation and wish it had never happened. Fortunately, passing the point of no return means that you have to finish the job, no matter how large.

This file photo was taken shortly after the greatest moment of despair in the "Great Book Liquidation of 2008." Emily decided we needed to clear out several hundred books to make room for more baby playthings. She was working under the assumption that we could sell all our books on Amazon and make out like bandits. She immediately started pulling the books off the shelf and listing them on the internet. We made our first sale within an hour or two. Unfortunately, after the books were arranged in piles all over the house, we discovered the going rate for most books in our collection of hundreds was one cent.

 

 

Key statistics to date:

• $200+: Money made selling old textbooks on Amazon
• $100: Money made selling a box of 30 teaching books on Craigslist
• $23: Money made from selling 23 books to the Duvall Bookstore
• 3: Tubs of books rejected by the Duvall Bookstore (we had more, but couldn't take the rejection any longer)

CPR saves lives

actually, not really, electricity and intravenous drugs save lives. BUT CPR does immeasurably increase the rate of success of said shocks and drips. and the Heimlich fo’ sho’ saves lives.

which is why i am now officially certified as a lay rescuer in infant, child and adult CPR, including conscious and unconscious choking.

my motives, of course, were not purely focused on the lady who drops out cold at the grocery store. you see, summer chokes. a lot. we have at least one emergency scare and three to five mild scares every day. thankfully, nothing has ever been lodged in her throat, but i decided to take action in case something ever is.

the boy scouts stole my mantra: be prepared.

for your trivial pleasure, here are some interesting facts about the new and improved CPR:

--DO NOT check the pulse of the victim. if they are not breathing normally, begin chest compressions. if they don’t need compressions, they will most definitely let you know.

--the rate of compressions is about 100 compressions per minute. this is the same rate as the beat in the bee gees song “staying alive.” coincidence? i think not.

--don’t worry about doing CPR incorrectly (i.e., doing 32 compressions instead of 30 at a rate of 97 instead of 100). researchers found that many “certified” individuals did not feel comfortable performing CPR in an emergency situation due to fear of making a mistake. remember, a person who is not breathing and has no heart beat is clinically dead. it’s only up from here.

check with your local hospital or fire department for class offerings.

happy birthday, summer!

november 6, 2008

birthday roses from dad.

birthday favors.

birthday bounty!

 

birthday cake.

birthday song.
(somehow summer knew it was all about her and loved every minute.)

birthday mess.



 
birthday games.

birthday love.

birthday eve

a year ago today, i was going for walks and making plans for baby announcements. a year ago today, the world was quiet. time was mine. a year ago today, i had no idea what tomorrow would bring.

baby summer.

her birth was remarkable. unusual. she would do things her own way even then.

to describe our relationship, summer’s and mine, my husband would say, “an immovable object meets an unstoppable force.” summer is strong. she’s smart; she’s willful. she’s bold and audacious. and so she has been from the moment we met.

summer loves to laugh and is an easy smile. she hates to sleep. she loves the sound of her own voice, and her screams have unparalleled volume and stamina. her favorite foods are sugar and cheese. summer doesn't snuggle much. she is constantly on the move. she loves people and wants to be where the action is. summer cannot play by herself, and she does not care for stuffed animals.

on the age-old nature versus nurture debate, i find myself comfortably on the nature side. summer’s temperament and personality are very much the same as they were on november 6, 2007 – and i sense, even before then. nothing makes my skin prickle quite like someone, usually a generation or two older than me, saying that summer is “x” because i “y.” heavens no. summer is “x” because she dug her claws in and firmly decided to be so.

as for the nurture, my piece of the puzzle is to help her reach her fullest, most excellent potential and to teach her to use her God-given faculties for good. (and my more specific role, as summer’s mother, is to r.e.m.a.i.n...c.a.l.m.) if i do my job right, then summer, true to form, will be a powerful and immovable force for good.

a year ago today, i had no idea what tomorrow would bring:

a fiery burst of joy.

summer rocks the vote

It's go time!

Get out and vote!

Election day is an exciting event at MSNBC.com. Lots of people have been putting in crazy amounts of overtime. In my opinion the results are fantastic. In the interest of full disclosure, my immediate team is one of the few in the company that's had essentially nothing to do with elections. Nevertheless, I'll be in the office late tonight, monitoring election results (let's just say it'd be a disaster if our automated systems screwed things up and reported the wrong numbers).

Interesting fact: Despite what you may think, MSNBC.com tries to keep coverage unbiased (it may help to bear in mind that we're a separate entity from MSNBC TV). In fact, our editorial team is under the strictest orders to neither celebrate nor mourn as the results come in this evening. Anybody who feels they can't contain their emotions must leave the newsroom and vent outside.

 

an apple a day

having lived in washington for two years now, we finally decided it was time to try our hand at apple picking. unfortunately, as with most of our family plans, this decision came a day late and a dollar short. the peak of the apple-picking season is generally around the first of september -- a whopping two moons ago.

not easily deterred, we made some phone calls and found a u-pick farm that was still harvesting, though most of the biggest and best apples had already been plucked. while in the orchard, we tried several varieties -- not quite all 200 -- but found that after awhile, most tasted rather similar and a lot like "apple." still, we came home with fifteen pounds to can and store.

for her part, summer enjoyed gliding rockily along in the wagon. she did not, however, enjoy the occasional visit by the owner's dog.

  bryan masterfully maneuvers the rickety wagon.
he picks a few apples, but is soon replaced by emily's more discerning eye.

"she took of the fruit and did eat."

weeee!

 

waahh!

 

emily wonders why these apples are so dirty.

 

meet the flintstones

for halloween this year, i used my rather crude sewing skillz to fully outfit the family as fred, wilma and pebbles (of the flintstones variety). we then took summer to downtown duvall for her first trick-or-treating experience. the costumes were a big hit, but summer seemed more than a bit confused by the whole ordeal. that is, until we got her home with the candy. then it somehow all made perfect sense.

 

 

  

peter, peter, pumpkin eater

here we chronicle last night's adventures in pumpkinland:

somehow, bryan has been appointed our official pumpkin guts cleaner.

a job he hates (which is probably why it was given him).

this year, summer joined the crew with a few special responsibilities.

first, pumpkin inspecting.

second, pumpkin exploring.

and third, pumpkin peekaboo.

my role is as the struggling "arteest."

 

bryan says, "emily, why don't you draw your designs on the pumpkins?"

emily says, "carve first. draw later."

 

(dad, i'm wearing the goggles for you.)

happy halloween!

ps - the little pumpkin says "boo."

won't you be my neighbor?

what's this i see? a note? on our garbage can?!

"please be considerate of your neighbors and put your garbage cans away. thank you."

 

 

i just love the anonymous "neighborly" reminders that are a regular part of complex living. though seemingly anonymous, this particular note is from the elderly woman who lives next door. sometimes our garbage cans get in the way of her black miata.

 

but really, with all she has to complain about living next door to us, we're pretty happy she's only mentioning the garbage cans.

news update

summer loves the dishwasher.

emily goes dark.

remember when?

the lovebirds (my brother, ken, and his bride-to-be, emmelie) have come up for air just long enough to send me some pictures from their august adventures here in washington (thanks, emmelie!):

at the top of the space needle.
the price of admission is almost as steep as the edifice itself.
but somehow, ken finagled a military discount.

 

 

at the first starbucks in pike place market.
free admission.

ken buds makes the treacherous (and illegal!) descent to snoqualmie falls.
i ask you, emme, does this look like the kind of guy who is going to jump out of airplanes?

what ken does enjoy is a giant doughnut (shown here to be roughly the size of his head.
and yes, that is a class three chin). baked fresh for the duvall farmer's market (the doughnut, not the chin).

 

NOT PICTURED:

our rock star band formed at the experience music project museum:
kenny and the emilies (clever, we know).

the great pumpkin

fall is my very favorite season--'tis the season of the great pumpkin. this year, summer enjoyed the privilege of picking out our family's very own "great pumpkin." we are a bit unclear as to the criteria she employed when selecting said pumpkin (color? shape? size? proximity?), but she nonetheless did a respectable job for her first time.

after enjoying the afternoon in the pumpkin patch--the most sincere pumpkin patch we could find--we returned home to watch it's the great pumpkin, charlie brown (of course!) and enjoy some hot apple cider and ginger cookies.

ah, the comforts of fall.

summer selecting her pumpkin.
"this one!" she cries.

who says i can't pull the plow (or push the wheelbarrow)?

we found this cute little "pumpkin" and just had to take her home.

bryan and the bounty of pumpkin guts he will soon be dispatching.

summer sitter

meet the babysitter:

not but a day after turning eleven months old, summer had her first non-familial caregiver. (and previous to this she was only watched by my mother, who happens to live in alabama, so needless to say, those sittings were few and far between).

i left a page--front and back--of typed instructions: important numbers, a detailed schedule, general information, the location of household items, what to do in case of a power outage or fire, and of course, an eight step illustrated guide should summer choke. when i cam back home, the sitter said, "these are the most detailed instructions i've ever seen!" shivers went down my spine. and yes, i would like to thank the academy for this award.

i wanted to take a picture of the two girls together; however, summer was sleeping when we left and (shock of ALL shocks) when we returned home. thus cementing in my mind what all my parenting books have been postulating: that babies are the worst for their mothers (a bit backwards, isn't it?).

but the sitter was great, summer was great, our date was great. everybody wins. i think we'll do this again some time.

but summer's favorite?

the swings!

autumn in the park

eating wood chips

see-sawing with mom

climbing the tractor

babes in toyland

behold the toy box:

today, two lovely little girls (ages 4 and 1) joined summer and me for an hour in the afternoon. naturally, upon entering our home, the older girl went straight for the toys. i directed her to the box beneath an end table, and eyes wide with excitement, she dumped the toys in a pile on the living room floor. she paused. a quizzical look. and then: "this is just trash and junk."

touche.

i can see how the empty yogurt containers, plastic spoons, random game pieces, assorted lids, pens, broken glasses, torn pictures, gift tags, old flashlights, (yes, those are birth control blister packs), kitchen utensils, lotion bottles, expired credit cards, toothbrushes, nail clippers and nasal aspirators may not appear to be your average children's toys, but in my defense, summer likes to play with trash and junk. we tried to curb the interest at first, but eventually just gave in to her carnal desires.

i guess it's true what they say, "one pre-schooler's junk is some baby's treasure."