I am so excited for pony-tails and painted nails.

I feel a little undeserving of a daughter. For years and years I boldly proclaimed that I only wanted male children. But I’ve repented of my foolish ways and I’m thrilled.

She was unashamedly cooperative in showing us what we needed to see to know she was a she. But for the sake of her dignity (and because I don’t have a scanner) I won’t post the immodest picture.

The news of a girl and the news that all her organs seem to be developing normally was enough to distract me from the fact that I completely forgot to put on make-up in my anxious state.

One more girl on the Hall side is going to make for a wild three-some of girl power.

Dorothea (three weeks)

I feel like this is an indication that I am a frequent, albeit messy, cook. I’m okay with that.

I had kind of a lame day yesterday. I completed nothing on my to-do list. Finally about 8:00pm I was feeling pretty badly about myself so I resorted to the one task that will always satisfy. Cleaning the drip-pans from the top of the stove is always slightly disgusting, therefore tremendously gratifying.

I find that a sense of satisfaction from accomplishing even a small task does great things for my self-worth.

The area where we live is surrounded by corn fields. Cameron has been commenting on the growth of the corn for the last few weeks.

I can tell as I watch the gorgeous green stalks grow that summer is passing. Last year after Labor Day came and went I was haunted with pangs of regret for not getting out of the house and enjoying the opportunities provided by the hot sun. So this year I’m trying to take full advantage of all things water & swimming. The boys are completely on board.

Our sand-castle building equipment was high-tech.

On the one hand, when it comes time to choose a name for my child I feel a great deal of pressure. You know, all those so-called “studies” about how a name can shape an individual. On the other hand, I don’t buy into all that fuss and I feel like there are other aspects of bringing a child into the world that I ought to devote my attentions to.

This Thursday we find out the gender of our baby, assuming said baby cooperates. Richard doesn’t understand why I bother discussing names before we know the gender. That’s just like Richard, to be so practical. But pregnant women are not practical. I think about all things baby to pass the weeks, names especially.

I’ve developed a “Litmus Test”, if you will, for baby names. My primary resource is the Social Security Administration website where they have compiled a database of the popularity of baby names, I assume based on applications for social security numbers each year. It is so convenient for mothers-to-be like myself and I find that I easily waste as much time on this site as I do on Facebook.

My rules are three-fold:

1. The name must not be in the top 100 baby names for the previous year. (This rule was not in practice when we named our first child.)
2. It must fall somewhere in the top 1000 names. I don’t want my child’s name to be too unusual.
3. It cannot have climbed more than 300 points in popularity over the past 10 years. (A sure sign he/she will have to attach the first letter of their last name throughout gradeschool to identify his/her-self.)

That leaves a great number of names for me to choose from. And yet, we still haven’t chosen one. It doesn’t help that, as I have mentioned many times, I am totally impaired when it comes to making decisions.

At least after Thursday I can eliminate 50% of my options.

What I said about Eli’s nasty habit wasn’t exactly unkind but for the sake of a healthy mother-son relationship I thought I’d follow up with two nice things about Eli. And what are blogs, if not for bragging about our children? Heaven help me I hate bragging.

Anecdote #1: Yesterday the boys were quietly dozing during naptime and I settled on the couch to read. I found my own eyelids feeling heavy so I relocated to my bed. The very moment I relaxed and shut my weary eyes I heard Eli’s cries. Not wanting him to wake Cameron I went and retrieved him from his bed. Now the NICE part of the story. I rocked him in the rocking chair until he fell back to sleep and then sat back down on my bed and let him sleep on my chest and bulging belly. He is such a cuddle-bug, which I consider a great blessing. He smelled of sunscreen and sand from our day at the “beach” and they were precious moments. Pardon the cliche.

Anecdote #2: The other day while doing dishes Cameron and Eli were playing cars on the kitchen floor. Cameron kiped one of the cars Eli was playing with which resulted in screams of fury. Discipline followed and Cameron returned the toy. But Cameron wasn’t done. He pestered Eli relentlessly with the hope of bullying him into returning the car. (Cameron clearly underestimates Eli’s stubborness.) This pestering led to more screams of fury and Cameron was banished to his bedroom. Upon his release and without any prompting from me, Eli approached him directly and with a pleasant smile handed over the matchbox car of dispute. At first I was frustrated that after all his naughty behavior Cameron ended up getting exactly what he wanted. But I didn’t want to discourage Eli’s act of generosity so I let it be.

I’ve read a couple books and a few blogs about eating locally. I’ve even blogged about it myself. Sunday I finally cooked a “locally grown meal”. Nothing fancy, a pasture raised chicken with carrots and onions, and corn on the cob, all from the CSA I’m a member of. It was all very tasty.

I’ve come to believe, or at least be more aware, that knowing where the food on my plate comes from contributes a great deal to the extent to which I can enjoy a meal. It is especially satisfying that when I pick up the produce from the farm the leaves haven’t even wilted yet because it was plucked from the Earth only minutes before.

If you haven’t read In Defense of Food, I hereby recommend it. If you can’t make it through the first two “sections”, as they are a bit tedious, AT LEAST read the last 60 pages. I know that people in this camp have a reputation for being a bit nutty, but don’t let that keep you away.

If you are like me, you are worried that reading the book will motivate you to change, but not enough to ACTUALLY initiate change, thereby just making you feel guilty because you haven’t changed.

Try it anyway.

On our Hall Family Getaway my dad put together some questions that we used for mealtime discussion. One of the questions went something like this.

One of the delights of parenting is being the bearer of good news. I love telling Cameron when something new or unusual is in store for him. Much of the time the anticipation is as good as the actual event. He becomes so giddy with excitement that he can hardly formulate sensible questions about the details of my news. This excitement spreads quickly to Eli who is still at an age of jumping and running in circles to express himself. And I can’t help but feel my own heartrate quicken as I watch the two of them.

Perhaps as adults we know that the thing itself is usually so short lived that excessive excitement is hardly worthwhile. We hesitate to build things up lest we are disappointed when they pass all too quickly. Or maybe we are just too embarrassed to let our pleasure show.

Children on the other hand do not allow their enthusiasm to be tarnished by realism. No matter, for example, that the water balloons would last less than five minutes. The 25 minutes the boys spent watching me carefully fill them was so full of eagerness and expectancy that I relished it as much as the three chaotic minutes of balloon throwing that immediately followed.



“Ah, summer, [days of triple digits] what power you have to make us suffer and like it.”