This is just to say…

I am well (despite a cold)! I am thriving! I am happy!

I am also still trying to take pictures, but Iris is a full-time gig, being pregnant is a part-time one… and so is working on my book, getting back on a cleaning schedule, working in the garden, trying to maintain a few key friendships and the sanity that goes along with them.

Honestly, I get so little uninterrupted time with the laptop I basically had to choose between my book or my blog. And if you love me, you know I made the right choice.

The word count is growing again.

And I promise there WILL be pictures again. Someday.


210/365: Konfidential

IMG_0941I don’t talk about this on my blog much, but if you know me very well in person then you know I have a thing about the Kardashians. I sort of love them, and not for any really wonderful or defensible reason. I just do. And if you don’t, that’s fine too.

I’m not very missional about it.

But I’m the kind of person who can get so focused on my internal landscape that I actually appreciate the kind of brassy, sugar-high, Beverly Hills materialism that comes with any amount of Kardashian exposure. I find it funny and fascinating, and I am inevitably inspired to clean out my closet and go to the gym and call a friend I haven’t spoken to in way too long. Those are good things. I need memos like that in my life.


My friend stopped by the other day to give me an adorable little man-onesie for the baby… and a book about the Kardashians for me. Because she’s awesome like that.

I read the book in three naps, and I spent the entire day cleaning out my closet, organizing all my maternity clothes, throwing away a bag full of things I should have tossed years ago, and FINALLY unpacking the 3 last boxes in my closet from our move over a year ago. So, in case you’re reading this, Jenn, your gift has already multiplied. (Also I got to text Carl important facts like Kim totally joined Khloe on her honeymoon. Yeah. Enmeshed much? This is so exactly the kind of thing I want to know on a rainy April day). Thanks!!

And Iris spent most of her day trying to figure out how sunglasses work. It took the whole day, honestly, and a few tears, but she finally got it down. What a babe.

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203/365: New Habits

IMG_0903I’m finally getting a little energy back, but I can’t say I’ve been super productive. There has been some cleaning, it’s true. And a lot of organizing of the baby clothes, donating, throwing out. Some lolling in the newfound sunshine.

And a LOT of internet forum surfing.

I joined a birth board last pregnancy, which was nice. I made some friends, and it passed the time. I joined another birth board this time around, but then I started exploring the home site and found that there are all these other wonderful boards. Boards for politics, boards for twins and multiples, boards for relationship advice, and a board all about navigating in-law and family of origin dysfunction.

It’s epic.

Like 10,000x better than reality tv.

Now during slow moments in the backyard or nap time or waiting for the Wings game to end, I check in with my favorite threads to see whether X’s crazy FIL showed up to throw a lawn tantrum when his son refused to be sucked into the ‘but I’m dying of caaaaaaaaaaaaancer, so you haaaaaaaaaave to move back in with your mother and I (and totally not with your fiancee and child)” or to see whether Y ever got her engagement ring back from her MIL who stole it while she was sleeping during a visit recently.

Then there are, of course, the Best Of threads… The best of MIL passive-aggressive barbs being a perennial favorite. I may have contributed.

Of course, those are the funny ones. A lot of them are also sad, marked with things like **TRIGGER** in bold red type to warn sensitive readers that there’s death and abuse and tragedy in there too. I followed one thread recently where the woman was in a classic emotional abuse relationship and kept giving her husband endless chances to randomly start respecting her opinions and feelings. Which, of course, he never did. I watched her get a lot of sympathy at first, then a lot of helpful advice about setting boundaries and figuring out what she really wanted from the relationship… which devolved into warnings to think about the example she was setting by raising her kids in that toxic stew of dysfunction and how at some point one ceases to be a victim and starts being a volunteer. You know what you have to do, however unpleasant or scary it might be. You know. Which eventually lost it’s urgency and turned into GIFs and food talk and nerdy discussions of Dr. Who after the poster stopped checking back. She made her choice. She picked the dysfunction she knew over the future she didn’t.

I’m hooked now.

People are interesting to me. Relationship dynamics are interesting to me. Psychology is interesting to me. It’s like a never-ending buffet of creative energy.

So if you’re chatting to me and I look mildly glazed over, or if you email me and I don’t get back to you right away—yeah, I’m probably checking in on that one thread where the woman’s MIL bit a police officer while trying to forcibly take the DIL’s baby from her.

You know. Important stuff.


200/365: Photo Shot in the Foot

IMG_0845We had a wonderfully relaxed Easter Sunday, complete with an hour of lounging out on the grass while Iris ran around and explored the yard. Bliss. Today was busier with errands and ultrasounds and grocery shopping, and then—because I realized I hadn’t taken any cute pictures of Iris in her Easter dress (full disclosure: she never even wore her Easter dress)—and we just happened to catch a revealing glimpse at the doctor’s office, I thought we’d do a quick photoshoot while there was still some afternoon light drifting around in the study.

Ha ha.

Iris is teething again, and it’s HEART BREAKING to her when we hold the black, clicky box and don’t share it. Or let her hold it. Or carry it around.

We are mean.

She howled. And she did NOT want to play with the cutesy themed balloons.


I stripped off her dress and we snuggled crankily together until she felt perky enough to run around the study making messes in her white onesie and tights (no pants, of course). Then she noticed the balloons. BALLOONS! How exciting! Iris loves balloons!

All of which to say: I got a couple of decent shots, but I knew if I moved back into position she’d catch sight of me and the moment would be over. Also she wasn’t wearing pants. Whatever.

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And just in case you’re still following the ultrasound thread of this post, YES, that is a blue balloon. Iris, as it turns out, has a little brother; we have a son. When I told Carl, he said he thought it was going to be a girl… which is how he KNEW it was going to be a boy. We are both 0 for 2 on this parental intuition thing. I thought for sure Iris was going to be a boy, and I thought for sure this one was a girl. This, friends, is why I don’t gamble.

He’s seriously perfect, by the way. Perfect little profile. Five fingers per hand. Busy practicing his swallowing and twisting around, stretching his legs out to kick the uterine wall—his fragile little limbs so tiny I couldn’t even feel the movements I saw.

We are already in love.