One Fine Morning...

...occured last night. It was a religious sort of thing. 2 Mormons (us) went over to see my friend, who is Catholic, and her husband, who is Jewish. We lit the Menorah He said two prayers in Hebrew We ate Latkes (and drank some warm cider with cloves and cinnamon). because last night was the first night of Hannukah. We bundled up --It's so cold and there's been 18 inches of snow fall in the past 2 days-- We got in my tough old CRV that never wavers; two men in the front the ladies chatting in the back. We drove to a beautiful Gothic cathedral to hear Compline, a monastic night-time prayer ritual: 30 minutes of haunting harmony. When we left The snow was still falling, falling, falling, and my friend jumped for joy in the silent snow-filled streets in the shadow of the cathedral. We realized it was Winter Solstice and laughed at the crazy combination that brought so much happiness: Menorah + Hannukah prayers + Latkes + Mormons, Catholic, and Jew + Solstice + The first day of Han...

I'm all about traditions. I love them, for like big epic continuation-of-culture reasons. And Christmas is a great time to continue and create new traditions. This year, I decided to make some homemade suckers for treats to give to neighbors and church friends. The candy making fills our house with the sweet aromas of cinnamon and peppermint. We've decided it's definitely a tradition we'll do every year. It's actually surprisingly easy. Here's the How-to: Mix together in a pot: 2 cups of sugar 2/3 c. light karo corn syrup 3/4 c. water You gotta have a candy thermometer. When it hits 300 degrees, you're ready to add a couple of drops of food coloring and 1 dram of flavored oil (you can order this online or go to a kitchen shop). Then pour into molds. My mom sent me hers, but there were tons of places that had them for sale. If that's not sweet enough, here's a little more Swedish sweetness for you to enjoy:

Me, my kids, and my baby girl at "Our Town" A couple of weeks ago, one of my former students emailed me to let me know that a group of kids from my AP Language class were getting together to attend another high school's production of my favorite play, "Our Town," and asked me if I wanted to join them. Can I just say how utterly, totally, and completely delighted I was? I heartily agreed to meet them, I talked busier-than-ever-this-time-of-year-Trent into it (while a big fan of theatre in general, he is not, generally, a big fan of High School Theatre...it really is sorta a theatre experience unto itself), and last Thursday we all went to the show. As a teacher, I don't think it gets much better than experiences like this. I love that they loved the play I love (how about that sentence?). I love that they are staying in touch with me. I love that during intermission we all talked and laughed and reminisced about our former class. I wanted to hug each one of ...

Since we've been home from Texas, we've had lots of time to do our normal daily stuff. I realized the other day how much I like our daily stuff. In fact, our daily stuff is just chock full of goodness. Seriously. It's getting cold in NY so we got Lillian this fantastic snowsuit. It also works when/if she wants to be a Yeti anytime soon. It's about 14 sizes too big and her fingertips go to about where the elbows should be located. I think she really digs it. Please note the look of utter joy on her face: We got it so that on the days when the sun is shining, we can go on walks. Even though it's sometimes so cold that it makes your eyes water, still, it's fun to go outside. Winter time is also the season of fabulous soups. This is the fantastic soup that my friend, Kristin, made me right after I had Lillian. It really is so wonderful, and so healthy. It makes me feel like a domestic goddess to have dinner made and my baby happy. Who am I, really? Is this the woma...

Her name is Aurelia. Isn't that a pretty name? She goes by Rel. Sometimes I sit a couple of rows behind her in church. On my first Sunday back after the baby was born, I noticed Rel sitting alone. And I didn't make it through the hymn we were singing because I got all weepy. She just looked so frail. A month before Lillian was born, Rel's husband, Dick, died of cancer. It came on quickly and took him just as fast. Six weeks, maybe, from diagnosis to his passing. He and Rel had a classic love story. In fact, the picture of them on his funeral program looked like any young couple just starting out in their life together: young and attractive, you can see from the picture how much she loves him. Rel and Dick were in their 70s when Dick's cancer struck. Ironically, of the two, she's always been the frail one, and Dick has always taken care of her. So, as I saw her, sitting there alone, hands shaking, I couldn't hold back my tears. I like to think they were tears of ...

I was reading up this week on my church's stance on Proposition 8. No matter where you stand on the issue, it goes without saying that the entire thing has been fairly explosive on both sides. I'm always sorry when people feel they've been treated unfairly; I'm always a little sad when people choose to respond with hate instead of love (does that sound cheesy? I really don't mean for it to be cheesy. I just get tired of all the political rhetoric from time to time and feel like we all just need to sit down and hug each other and watch "Our Town" together.). Anyway, lest I get off on a tangent other than what I intended, let me get back to my point. So, I was watching some videos and reading some articles and it struck me how difficult it must be to be one of the leaders of our Church. These good men and women are constantly on the front lines. When push comes to shove, they're the ones who have to come up with the answers to impossibly difficult scenar...

Traveling with a newborn. What an astounding experience that is. As I sit here, warm and cozy and HOME in my little house in New York, I still shake my head, dazed and amazed at the airplane flight with little Lillian. I know, most of you have done it once, twice, a thousand times, and I bow down to you. In fact, I bow down to most everyone who has a child and has yet to lose their sanity. How can a tiny little thing not yet weighing 13 pounds require so much effort...and have so much stuff? The trip from NY to Austin is the one worth telling. Here's how it went down: I woke up at 3:45 a.m. I fed the baby. I gave her to Trent who snuggled with her while I got ready. I flat ironed my hair, I put on some make-up (gotta look good for the ladies waiting for me in Austin), and I finished packing my bags. It did take me 3 times as long to pack my bags the night before, and that was good times. At 4:30 we were ready to go to the airport. I put Lillian in her car seat. Trent put my bags in...

So, we're here in Texas. It's pretty. It's warm. Lillian is currently a maniac. Nothing major, just sorta off kilter. But, then again, I don't think that you really have a kilter when you're 2 months old. One thing I know for sure: I don't ever want to be a single parent. EVER. Ella has lost her voice with a cold that has rocked her world. Her raspy voice is so cute, you wouldn't believe it. And my darling sister whom I adore is so sick she cannot get out of bed. I feel a sore throat coming on. Sorta feels like the fates aren't on our side right now. But it's sure warm and pretty here in Texas.

I'm here in Texas, soaking up the sun and spending time with my sisters. We've done all the girly stuff you do when sisters get together: we watched Secret Life of Bees , (the book is better than the movie: discuss amongst yourselves), went and grabbed a gelato, and even did pedicures (question: why is every pedicurist I've been to--from Utah to New York to Texas--Vietnamese? I always wonder, is it big in Vietnam? Are all these people related? Is the word on the streets, "Hey, go to the States and do pedicures. You'll make a killing there..."? These are things I think about at 4 a.m. while feeding the baby). Anyway. We've tried to avoid drama, but with 6 women in the house that's a little impossible, but nevertheless, we're lovin' it up here as best we can. In the middle of all that, I'm also training for a 5 mile race that we're doing together on Thanksgiving day. I'm really looking forward to it. It is a great irony, is it not, th...

So many reasons to celebrate today: 10. Lillian looks like this today. She also slept through the night. She also smiles and coos and giggles whenever she sees me (except while I was taking this picture. I think the hat stressed her out a bit). I think we're beginning to get the hang of this parenting thing...and it just keeps getting better and better. 9. It's Halloween AND a Friday night AND Trent is coming home from work early AND we get to hang out with our friends at the ward trunk or treat=very good times. 8. Whoever invented Trunk or Treat is SERIOUSLY AWESOME. Good idea. 7. I don't need a costume since I recently had a small jogging accident which left me looking like this: 6. My husband still loves me even though I look like this. 5. We've had some really, really good laughs about my face. Because, honestly, if you take yourself too seriously in a moment like that, then life sucks. And my life is great. 4. My darling WendyJ was here for the weekend. I love ...

I bought some new running shoes a couple of days ago. They're cute (because that DOES matter) and they're comfy (that REALLY matters). I've been thinking about my shoes. They're just so new and pristine and white and unspoiled. And I just couldn't wait to put them on. They call to me, my shoes. They say, "Lizzy, come run with me. Come, get out of the house, and run like the wind. Run like you used to, mile after mile. Run until everything is purged out of you and you feel like you're flying..." You might not believe me, but that's what a good run feels like. It's the ultimate catharsis. It always sucks the first mile or two, but then some kind of happy drug takes over and your body just clicks into gear and you can run and run and run. It's amazing. You can feel how strong your body is and your mind will never be clearer as you look around at the beautiful scenery surrounding you. A good run will remind you that God is in his heaven and all...

To my ideal husband: Two years ago today, we got all dressed up (because you know I love that) And you took me to go see this: You showed up at my door looking dashingly handsome with this in your hands When I got in the car you had this music playing: I thought you were awfully romantic. We loved the Opera. Remember? I thought it was the most magical evening of my life. And when the Opera was over, we drove home. I felt wistful...sorry that the night was over. But then you said that it wasn't quite over, yet. I was delighted. We took a few pictures. Then you did this: And then, love, you did this: My reaction? This: And then I said yes , yes, yes, yes!! Two years isn't a very long time. Yet, somehow in that amount of time, we've managed a glorious wedding, a move across the country, tackled our careers (quite bravely, I must add), one heckuva roller coaster pregnancy, and now we're this: All because of that night two years ago. I'm so glad I said yes.

Thank you for your wonderful note ! I always knew we were going to be best buddies, since you and I are the first girls in a LOOOONG time in our extended family. I'm so excited to hang out with you really soon. I know there's a lot I have to learn from you. I've been working on some skills of my own, too. I'd be happy to help you if you forgot them. First, I have really good face skills. Sometimes I like to make my eyes go googly like this just to freak my mom out. Maybe when we get older we can tape our faces with packing tape like our moms used to do to each other. That sure was a lot of fun! I've also got good Bjorn skills. I could just hang out in that thing all day. My parents learned the Bjorn skills from you on that trip to Boston last year. I'll bet in 10 years everyone will wonder: which one is you and which one is me? Of course, I've got some serious computer skills. Sometimes I get bored with my dad. He's such a computer hog. I also have g...

"One wants a Teller in a time like this; One's not a man, not a woman grown To bear enormous burdens all alone..." My cousin AD challenged the readers of her blog to write a letter to themselves. I really, really liked the idea of that, of my older, wiser self giving my younger self a little TLC and help. There's lots of things I'd like to tell my younger self (and hopefully my younger self would listen!). In fact, the whole thing reminded me of a portion of Gwendolyn Brooks' poem "One Wants a Teller (In a Time Like This)". I've always liked the poem because I actually like being told what to do...sort of. Because I so want to do things right the first time around, I like when someone will just tell me all the rules and then get the heck outta my way and let me do it all just perfectly. I have learned a little something in the last month. There are certain times of life when there are plenty of tellers but there are no rules (some of you, lik...

Well, once in awhile, it might be worthwhile to hear the Husband's side of the story. So, Liz went into the hospital. She hurt a lot. We were there a long time and I got hungry, but I couldn't go out because, well, you know, it might hurt Liz's feelings and I might miss something, like another contraction. So, like 45 hours passed. Then, they swooshed her into another room, just two seconds after she got to the verge of falling apart and I had run out of things to say like, "I'm sure they'll give you something for the pain soon" or "sorry 'bout your life, right now" or "what? I thought you wanted children...." So, then, I fell asleep waiting for them to come get me and put me in that white cotton suit that reminds me of those dudes at the end of ET who come to get the alien. Yeah. That's sort of what it felt like. Then, the doctors came and rushed me in, apologizing that they forgot about me. That's okay, though. They had a...

It’s a quiet Sunday morning. The sun is shining and a gentle breeze is playing with the leaves in the trees. It’s rained steadily for the last two days; the sun is a welcome sight this morning. Trent and my mom went to 9:00 a.m. church this morning and I’m here, healing and watching Lillian who is now 17 days old. 17 days. So much has happened in just 2 1/2 weeks' time. I look at this child sleeping next to me (sometimes peacefully, sometimes spastically…) and feel washed in the waves of love that fall over me, repeatedly, whenever I see her. I was afraid to have a child, truthfully. It felt so overwhelming that mentally I couldn’t even wrap my brain around it. My focus was on getting through the pregnancy and living through delivery. Both proved to be a sufficient enough challenge to preoccupy my mind for 10 months. While I was pregnant, thoughts of her: how she’d be, what she’d look like, would creep into my mind and heart and I almost had to dismiss them because I didn’t want ...

My sister,Trish, pointed out that Lillian was missing some hair bows in her last picture. I did swear that she wouldn't be without one, not in the next 10 years of her life. So, tonight I took some pictures to compensate. She sort of looks like the easter bunny, yes?

Okay, so there's other things going on in the world...I think...but who cares for hurricanes and presidential elections when Lillian is here to stare at? What's that? Oh, you want to see more pictures of my beautiful child? Yes, yes you do. Here. I'm generous like that. Saying hello to one Grandma .... And a wistful good-bye the other Grandma and Grandpa in her life I am alive and coming gradually to the land of the living.