11 days in arizona: a report

Shame on me. No pictures? Well, my hard drive croaked.

I feel like a hard-drive crash is something that only happens in theory, not in real life. Turns out, it's real. So go back up your photos. Right now. Then come back for my hearty hello from sunny Arizona.

Back already? Hello!

If you ever move to Phoenix in April, you may notice...

• Arizonans seem to measure their time here in summers...

...like Game of Thrones characters measure their lives in winters. "This will be my 5th year here. Get ready. Summer is coming..." 

• Warm weather means more people exercise?

So many people around here look like they're fresh off the best, most active summer of their life. Toned. Sunglassed. Wearing footwear they can run in. Maybe this is only partly true. Either way, I'm waking from a winter hibernation I didn't realize I was in.

Christopher's fabulous stepmom took me on a 5-mile hike, which feels like a good place to start.

• The Apple Store rocks.

I'm sure this is true of Apple stores in general, anywhere in the country. But I hold a special place in my heart for this particular Apple store, where I was told that in a month, my laptop will be considered "vintage."

I'm especially grateful for a certain subdued, detail-oriented genius who spent two hours and all his genius tricks saving nearly every last picture of my baby girl that I thought I'd lost. (Rock on, Type 2's. If you and I have ever talked about Energy Profiling, you may know what I mean.)

• People show up when you need them. 

By the end of last week, Claire's whining had become insufferable. She needs friends—or she loses it. And I could only draw so many pictures of the friends she left behind and use silly voices to pretend they were talking to her.

We'd already seen random kids at the park down the street about six times, but yesterday, I got her dressed and told her that this was the day we would meet some real friends. And some woman invited us to a massive play group where we moms sat on blankets and talked about summer (it's coming...) and they put me on their mom-group email list.

When the two of us came home after play group today, my baby was singing to herself again.

So far, so good. I'll let you know when summer arrives.

you can't make this stuff up

You need to know something before I tell this story:

Our little girl loves dogs. LOVES dogs. Doggy was her first word. And almost her first ASL sign. When we're outside, she'll spot a dog from a mile away and wave her arms and shout.

Story time:

We go on a walk pretty much every day. Baby girl rides in the stroller on the way out. And she's not much of a baby anymore because she walks and pushes the stroller on the way back.

On one particular return trip this week, she was exploring every interesting little thing on the sidewalk—when she saw an ant.

She dropped to her knees and tried to touch it, but he was pretty speedy. She kept following the ant with her finger, trying to touch it. She looked up at me. She looked back at the ant. And she whispered, "Doggy."

It sounds like such a simple mix-up. And it is. She has neither the experience nor the language to name the ant correctly. But it was more than that. When she said doggy, she sounded so reverent, or in love. I just don't look at ants the same anymore.

I also don't look at strawberries the same. They make the perfect party hats...

we're sad to see the summer end

The geese who have a loud, wild layover party in the cornfield behind our house every morning are saying that summer's ending. I usually enjoy the change in season, but this year, I want to say no, no, no!

I've spent a decent part of the summer on the bicycle of my dreams. With my baby sweetie in tow, I've gone everywhere on it: to the park, to the library, to visit friends. This afternoon, I'll hook up the baby trailer again and we'll ride up the street to our farmer's house to pick up fresh vegetables. It's nearly as idyllic as it sounds.

This summer's been good, not just for biking, but for a bit of self-discovery and delight that baby girl giggles and wonders at the world: my growing wistfulness for summer is just a regular case of wishing a happy moment won't end. I have a feeling that things will just keep getting better as this cute kid grows. But knowing me, I'll still be out there pedaling long after the snow flies.


(Speaking of time passing: tomorrow's the last day to comment on my previous post for a chance to win a custom handmade gift.)

meanwhile, back at the ranch...

My last post sounded a bit glum. And although I'm a fan of embracing sadness (we all need a good cry sometimes), I can't stay too gloomy with a giggly four-month-(almost-five!)-old in the house.













Baby girl certainly has some reasons to be happy this summer:

#1. Her reflux is gone! Mostly, anyway. For a while, she wouldn't nap in any position but upright. And she cried while she was a awake with a why-does-being-alive-hurt-so-much-and-can't-you-do-something-about-it-for-me-Mom sort of cry. But these days, she eats like a champ and doesn't spit up so much that we have to use a receiving blanket to catch all of it.



















#2. Summer=outdoors. This girl would spend every minute outside if she could. While we wrangled reflux, she only calmed down when we took her out on the porch to look at trees. So, we've taken her on bike rides and hikes and walks. And when we've actually had to get something done around the house, we've just opened the door and set her in front of it.



















#3. Trees are her favorite things to look at. Books are her second. (And—I feel like a horrible parent—I think the TV might come in third. She stares and stares when we turn it on. I think her favorite show might be Glee.)


















#4. Being a baby is just plain fun (aside from the spitting up, lack of motor control, and crapping yourself a few times a day). I've told her a hundred times that she's fun to play with, that she has a cute face and a tasty thumb. But she just needed a summer to figure those things out for herself.

april is supposed to be the cruelest month

But this year, I think it may be July.

I know a bunch of people who've had it rough the last few weeks—emotionally, financially, et ceterally. I don't know how many of those people read this blog, but for the ones who do: know that we're thinking of and rooting for you. And if we could make an uh-oh face for you as cute as this girl's, we would.















A new month arrived just days ago. Here's hoping it's a lovely one.

to do

A few things on my list for the summer:

• finally finish reading Moby Dick
• take pictures of baby girl in the grass while picnicking in the park
  
• come up with a title for the novel I'm writing
• sew a baby-sized dress
• eat watermelon on the back porch while the sun sets

teaching our kids to watch out

While buying pretty board books and egg-cup pin cushions and other local goodies today, a good friend and I talked about how all families are crazy in their own ways, and that we should just try the best we can to pass on what we know without inflicting too much psychological damage on our children. She sent me here for a bloggy example of a mother trying to pass on important advice to her daughter.

I don't have a daughter yet (and, no, internet—this is not an announcement that I will anytime soon), but I can imagine the stress involved in showing your kids how to watch out for things/people/places that will hurt them. Which is part of the reason I like the board book we found:













Seahorses, fish, shells, and boats: all standard characters in an ocean. But urchins are often overlooked—even though they're ubiquitous in the part of the ocean that a baby might become acquainted with.

This page reminds me of the time my husband and I went swimming in a little ocean cove, without realizing that the tide was going out of shallow water. So many urchins had set up camp in that cove that we couldn't just stand up and walk out of the water without cutting up our feet. So we had to make little swimmy breaks for shore when a wave came in. We were so very, dangerously close to those urchins.

When I DO have kids, I want them to know about urchins from the time they chew on their books. You know, so they can watch out.

unplugged

Before we left for a family reunion in Idaho this weekend, we both had a strange moment when we actually contemplated bringing our laptops. We would have no internet connection up in the mountains, and probably no time to work on any projects that required computers. But, still. We almost took them—just in case.

Fortunately, our lapse in judgment didn't last long enough for us to actually pack them—the laptops stayed home. And can I just say how nice it was to ditch all things electronic (the internet, cell phone service, tv, etc.) and just BE?

The one gadget I did allow myself was a camera. We replaced our broken one and the new one took some pretty sweet pictures of the fam this weekend. I don't know how to load said pictures onto my computer yet, so I haven't posted any. I'm just going to prolong this semi-unplugged weekend a little longer and worry about pictures tomorrow.

PS: Yes, I realize how silly I am. I'm on the computer right now, writing about how great it was to be off the computer. Looks like I could only handle the joy for 3 whole days.

summer food is hard to burn

If I've ever talked to you about cooking, I've probably mentioned that I only know how to make 6 things. This is not entirely true.

I cook in spurts. I get excited about the kitchen, collect new recipes, experiment, and end up with a series of 6 or so items that I love. I then make them all the time until my husband gets sick of them. And then, because those 6 have worn out their welcome, I retire them long enough to forget they're still in my cooking repertoire.

Fortunately, I've stumbled upon a series that may last a while. And once we tire of these recipes, I probably won't forget them easily. Here are some of the happiest summer foods I've found. They're packed with vegetables (read: good for you), but rather than tasting like obligatory veggie servings you must choke down, they're tasty and light.

Click on the links and eat up:

• Adrienne's frittata. You can't mess it up—provided you remember that broilers work quickly. I didn't. The first time.
  
• Deja's burger relish. I haven't actually tried making black bean hamburgers (sorry, Dej—perhaps in the next 6 recipes). But I did pair the relish up with some apple-gouda-cheese-chicken brats we found at costco. The combination was amazing.
• Strawberry salad. I lied. This one isn't new, but I love it in the summer. The link is as close to my recipe as I can find. I usually just use Brianna's poppy seed dressing instead of making my own (I'm lazy). I've also left out the red onion before and nothing in my kitchen has exploded.
• And, the most repeatedly made recipes of the bunch: Lara's yummy pita dips. The woman who gave me these is so gourmet that she knows where to buy pomegranate molasses (and which brand is best!). Obviously, I worried I would mess something up. Not a chance. The explanations are so clear that even I could make these foods. (I made them again tonight. I'm eating them right now.) Be sure to let the bulgur sit long enough to soften. And don't be surprised when your mother-in-law calls to say she ate the extra you left at her house for all three meals the next day.
  

Well, there's summer for you. I hope it's yummy.