List (from Erin)

Copy and paste this into your own blog, if you want to participate. Then, bold the items that you’ve actually done.

1. Started your own blog

2. Slept under the stars

3. Played in a band

4. Visited Hawaii

5. Watched a meteor shower

6. Given more than you can afford to charity

7. Been to Disneyland

8. Climbed a mountain

9. Held a praying mantis

10. Sang a solo (I was four and got to sing it because I could remember the words to "Away in the Manger." I'm sure I was terrible.)

11. Bungee jumped

12. Visited Paris

13. Watched a lightning storm at sea

14. Taught yourself an art from scratch

15. Adopted a child

16. Had food poisoning

17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty

18. Grown your own vegetables

19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France

20. Slept on an overnight train

21. Had a pillow fight

22. Hitch hiked

23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill (in my callow youth, of course)

24. Built a snow fort

25. Held a lamb

26. Gone skinny dipping

27. Run a Marathon

28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice

29. Seen a total eclipse

30. Watched a sunrise or sunset

31. Hit a home run

32. Been on a cruise

33. Seen Niagara Falls in person

34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors

35. Seen an Amish community

36. Taught yourself a new language

37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied

38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person

39. Gone rock climbing

40. Seen Michelangelo’s David

41. Sung karaoke

42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt

43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant

44. Visited Africa

45. Walked on a beach by moonlight

46. Been transported in an ambulance

47. Had your portrait painted

48. Gone deep sea fishing

49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person

50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris

51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling

52. Kissed in the rain

53. Played in the mud

54. Gone to a drive-in theater

55. Been in a movie

56. Visited the Great Wall of China

57. Started a business

58. Taken a martial arts class

59. Visited Russia

60. Served at a soup kitchen

61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies

62. Gone whale watching

63. Got flowers for no reason

64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma

65. Gone sky diving

66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp

67. Bounced a check

68. Flown in a helicopter

69. Saved a favorite childhood toy

70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial

71. Eaten Caviar

72. Pieced a quilt

73. Stood in Times Square

74. Toured the Everglades

75. Been fired from a job

76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London

77. Broken a bone

78. Been on a speeding motorcycle

79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person

80. Published a book

81. Visited the Vatican

82. Bought a brand new car

83. Walked in Jerusalem

84. Had your picture in the newspaper

85. Read the entire Bible

86. Visited the White House

87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating

88. Had chickenpox

89. Saved someone’s life

90. Sat on a jury

91. Met someone famous

92. Joined a book club

93. Lost a loved one

94. Had a baby

95. Seen the Alamo in person

96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake

97. Been involved in a law suit

98. Owned a cell phone

99. Been stung by a bee

Therapy, Anyone?

This afternoon, I came up behind Sam, who was holding AC, and put my hands on his shoulders, smiling at her from behind him. She peered back at me, then very deliberately pushed my hands off his shoulders, one at a time. Then she shook her head "no" at me.

If she wants him to herself, she's going to have to start doing his laundry . . .

First of Many

Yesterday, the weather was perfect here, as I hear it was all over the East Coast. Where I live, however, a bright, balmy day is rare and to be celebrated--a perfect occasion for one's first ice cream cone.

When we gave AC her first bite, she was surprised by the cold (I guess), screwed up her face with longsuffering disgust, and tried to push the ice cream out of her mouth with her tongue. But before she had gotten it all out, she realized that it was sweet and started avidly licking it back in. I missed that part with the camera, but here's a little more, for AC's grandparents and other friends.

The shrieks at the end are her indication that the ice cream is not coming fast enough. We've tried teaching her the baby sign for "more," but alas, I think she has discovered that shrieking works just as well.

Ahoy , There!

I am teaching Moby-Dick right now.

(I'm kidding, of course--this is her Easter outfit, a birthday gift from my parents. Though it does look like she's trying to escape from the brig . . .)

The Moral of the Story

AC is getting greedy, and smart. She likes to pull her little wagon wheel cookies out of their jar herself, and has discovered that the key to maximizing her cookie intake (so her father's child!) is to grab more than one when they are first offered. She fumbles around intently until she has a good grasp on as many as she can encircle with her little fist. Julie says she is like the monkey in that old story.

I told Sam about this comparison this morning. He wasn't familiar with the tale, so I told him about it--how the monkey would rather starve with his hand stuck in the bottle than let go of his big handful, ending with "I think it's maybe one of Aesop's fables or something."

But no, he objected, deep in thought, it couldn't have been Aesop because they didn't have bottles in Greece at that time.

Sighing, I conceded it could have been a narrow-necked jar.

"Oh," he said, "now, that's possible."

I am married to such a nerd.

Happy Easter

JS sent this cupcake tree to me a few days ago, also suited for Easter eggery.

Apples

Continuing my fruit series in a different, more technological direction, I've gotten seriously addicted to the Top Sites feature on Apple's new Safari.

Basically, when you open up your browser, the first page shows you current thumbnails of all your favorite websites--in my case, this means "all y'all's" blogs. In a glance, I can see who has (thank you, JS) and who has not (word to Kate) updated their blogs each time I go online. I love it. I'm so addicted to using it on my personal laptop that when I am on my work computer, clicking on the bookmarks to check each one seems arduous and possibly unfulfilling. Which is probably good for my productivity.

If you have an Apple, I highly recommend this new Safari, even though it means downloading the beta version. I feel quite confident in it because I learned about Top Sites when I saw it on The Two Js' computer, where it would not have been installed without due--nay, exhaustive (except that he doesn't get exhausted?)--diligence by Dr. B.

International Adoption Gets Seal of Approval from the Ethicist

Randy Cohen, who writes a column on moral issues for The New York Times, has just started a blog, and his first post is on international adoption. It's a fantastic analysis, and I think one of the most persuasive responses I've ever seen to vague and often uninformed political objections to international adoption.

Pear

I bought a pear last weekend, thinking that when it ripened, it would be soft enough for Allison Clare to eat. I squeezed it solemnly and thoughtfully each morning until yesterday, when it seemed perfect: firm, not mushy, and sweet enough to melt away in the mouth. I was so happy that it was ripe, and so delighted when Allison Clare loved the little pieces I cut from it for her to eat with her tiny fingers.

For some reason, thinking about the pear makes me want to cry: it seems like a symbol of the things I do for her with such tender hopes (things I would scorn doing for anyone else . . . "Of course it's ripe, Sam, just eat it, okay?"), and how completely happy I feel when they work out--like it was just the most wonderful thing in the world that the pear was ripe, and the most completely satisfying that she liked it.

Maybe what I should be shedding tears over is how my world has contracted to myself, the fickle tastes of a toddler, and a piece of fruit--and yet, I can't even seem to manage any skeptical distance on my own sappiness.

Has anyone ever noticed how happiness and sappiness are only one letter apart?

JS had better return from Korea soon--I'm clearly losing it by myself over here.

Fortune Cookie Wisdom

One little ritual I like about our trips up to the South Hills is stopping on the way back for Chinese food. The restaurant is a little too far away from our house to be convenient on most regular nights, but since it's on the way home when we've been shopping, AC and I almost always stop there and pick up some take-out for Sam and me.

This time, our bag contained an extra fortune cookie, which we decided must be Allison Clare's. This was only confirmed when I cracked it open for her this afternoon:

Sigh.

Daytrip

Yesterday was one of those perfect afternoons with Allison Clare. Our babysitter couldn't come, so I got to be home with her all day after my morning class. She took an early, extra-long nap, so by the time she woke up, I had finished what I really needed to get done for the afternoon, and I took her up to the South Hills, which I love because there is a Barnes and Noble but which is far enough away that we need to plan to get there. I had a moment of dismay on arrival when I realized that I'd taken the stroller out of my trunk the other day (where it's been for almost all winter) and stowed it in the garage, but because I had my sling and the cafe turned out to have high chairs, we were in business.

As it turned out, it was a fortuitous mistake because AC loved being in the high chair where she could see all around the cafe, as opposed to being strapped into the stroller with its high back and sides. I was super-shy as a child and would have preferred invisibility in any situation, so it's to my astonishment that I've given birth to a little ham. She made friends with everyone who came and went in a 2-table radius, waving, smiling, and blowing kisses at strangers of both genders and all colors and ages, unperturbed if they didn't even see her for a while.

She also did this disconcerting thing she's been doing lately, where she chooses someone, stares at them with an amused expression for an uncomfortably long time, then bursts into a throaty giggle. I'm always thankful when the people either don't realize they're being stared at, or respond the way the woman did today, who laughed back and then told her friend, "I think that baby can tell how silly I am!"

It's days like these that make me treasure the experience of having just Allison Clare for now; it's so easy to have just one baby. It's so easy that I feel like I'm happy all the time, like everything we do is easy and joyous--like I can do whatever I want, if I can just fit it into her schedule. I can take her for the afternoon for a little excursion, and as long as she's in a good mood, it's great. When she's taking a nap, I can put in some serious, focused worktime. As much as she has changed our lives, we've been able to hold onto some times of peace and work that have made it kind of easy to be her parents. With another baby, the demands on me at home would naturally become much greater, and because I take care of her a lot during the daytime, my ability to work while taking care of her is a big component of our lifestyle.

And yet, I'm about to be 35, and Sam is 41, and my dear husband meets challenges best when momentum is on his side. We're already doing the baby thing, and it would be easiest for him to just continue. Plus, Allison Clare was something of a miracle baby, not only in the sense that all babies are miracles, but also in the sense that she was medically unlikely--and that means we probably can't take too many risks in terms of waiting as the clock continues to tick.

So I think our days like these may be numbered,* which really just makes them all the sweeter. I know that because I've loved them so much, I won't be ready to see them go, but I also know that I was completely unprepared for Allison Clare . . . and yet, the only thing my unpreparedness did was to show me that I didn't need to be prepared for happiness.

*No, this is not foreshadowing of future news, just speculation.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Ah . . . I can't believe I used to sleep 8 or more hours most nights. I haven't been a good sleeper since my senior year in college, and I've had some bad patches of insomnia, but I've always been a huge devotee of sleep--never one of those people proud of how little sleep they need. Now that AC seems to be really doing it (several nights in a row, with even her little sleep disturbances getting less and less), I can't believe how freaking long it took. Some things one is better off not knowing when one signs on.

In other news, AC and I have both been sick for over a week with some kind of nasty cold, which must be what caused her fever the weekend before last. I've blown my nose more in the last 12 hours than in the last 12 years put together. At least I'm better off than poor little AC, who doesn't know how to blow her nose at all (but thinks it's hilarious to try mimicking Mommy).

The funniest part, though, has been that Sam, who ordinarily catches everything that comes down the pike, has escaped. It's a combination of factors I suppose--he didn't go on the plane with us over break, and the next week, he was on campus for several long days conducting a bunch of interviews, so he didn't have a lot of Munchkin duty when she was sickest and most contagious.

But you should see him: he goes beaming around the house with the smug, incredulous, theatrically innocent look of a would-be felon whose charges have been dropped on a technicality.