Go Dutch, Baby

Whenever I can convince my dear husband to whip up this breakfast treat, I consider myself blessed indeed. Of course, we've also been known to enjoy it for brunch, birthday celebrations, random Mondays and just because. It's just that good. What follows are Matt's instructions for making your very own Dutch Baby. Feel free to forward to your own husbands!




Total Time: 45 minutes (this of course implies that you have ALL the ingredients, which thankfully for this recipe you should, apart from the lemon which seems to be a luxury in our house)
Prep: 15 minutes (spot on)
Cook: 30 minutes (this can vary, just set it for 25 minutes or so and watch for the last few. Once you smell what's cookin' you won't stray far from the kitchen)
Yield: 4 servings (HA! no way...4 servings? They must mean 2 servings, with 2 left over for seconds!) 
Level: Intermediate (I think the only thing making this intermediate is having a seasoned 10-inch cast iron skillet available)

Assemble the troops.

INGREDIENTS

• 3 tablespoons butter, melted and divided
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour. (Actually calls for 2 3/8 ounces, but who bothers to measure by weight? A 1/2 cup seems to have worked just fine)
• 3 tablespoons sugar
• "A little" vanilla. (I've never measured. "A little" seems close enough. Maybe 1/2 to 1 teaspoon?)
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 cup whole milk, room temp. (I've used skim, 2%, and whole. Not sure my palette can tell the difference)
• 2 large eggs, room temp. (I've used up to 4. Any more than that and it starts tasting too much like quiche)
• "A little" cinnamon, if you're feeling inclined.

DIRECTIONS:

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees F
2. Get yer cast iron ready! Place 2 tablespoons of the melted butter into a 10-inch cast iron skillet and place in the oven (I don't think I've ever bothered to melt the butter first, it takes roughly 14 seconds to melt in a 375 degree oven, so what's the big rush?). 
3. Wait around 10 minutes before assembling other ingredients (Huh? I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've seen this line in the recipe. Oops!)
4. Place the flour, sugar, vanilla, salt, milk, eggs, and remaining tablespoon of melted butter into the bowl of a food processor or blender and process for 30 seconds. Carefully pour the batter into the preheated skillet. 

Blend.

Bake on the middle rack of the oven for 30-35 minutes or until the edges are puffed and brown. 

Out of the oven.

Careful, it's hot.

Sprinkle with additional vanilla sugar and serve with lemon wedges. (Again, another line I don't think I've ever read. We've always used powdered sugar, probably because we always have it on hand thanks to Kristine's scrumptious Mexican Wedding Cookies recipe. But I digress, sprinkle and top with whatever you'd like. Fruit would work, whipped cream, syrup, you could really use anything. Thanks to the neighbors we've become partial to butter, freshly-squeezed lemon, and a little powdered sugar.).

Hello Heaven.

 Courtesy Alton Brown (who else) via FoodNetwork.com (and where else?)

Another Weekend

First off, ya'll say hi to Ted! He pushed that little "follow" button over there in the right-hand column and is the newest (out loud and proud) follower of this little ol' blog of mine. He's also my small group leader and I may or may not have bribed him to follow because it's been such a long time since anyone pushed that little button and made me feel like some of you actually enjoy dropping by this little web-home we've made. Anyway. Enough about me and my obvious hints.



It's nice when the end of the weekend rolls around and I actually feel rested and accomplished and ready to face Monday morning. As opposed to tired and cranky and confused as to where the weekend disappeared off to.


We put Violet to bed about an hour ago, and for once, she didn't wail and demand we sit in the hallway. We gently (but firmly) reminded her that we would be right downstairs, and she went to sleep. Victory! Now, if tonight holds true to every night in the past week, she'll awaken at some point, crying, at which I'll stumble out into the living room and yell up the stairs that "Mommy's right here, go to sleep!" Upon hearing those words, the cry will be cut off mid-scream and Violet will go back to sleep. It's the oddest thing.

The grandmas spent the night last night so Matt and I could have ourselves a date night with friends and they were amazed that Violet followed this routine to the letter. We instructed them to put Violet in bed, expect her to cry for two or three minutes, then remind her that they were still there (but under no circumstances were they to reenter the room or show their faces), and she would morph from screaming toddler to peaceful dreamer. And so she did. When we left I could sense the trepidation in the grandmas, but they held strong and sure enough, a minute or two of drama and Violet was passed out sweetly. Thanks, moms! You passed the test!

(I know ya'll are probably getting tired of hearing about this bedtime tap dance, but it's been at the forefront of our parenting story these days, so hear of it you must. Unless you choose to scoot on over to one of the other fabulous blogs you follow, where the moms have things far more under control than I... (or so you think... we're all in one big beautiful mess together, some of us just cover it up with more flair than others).)

Hit Me Baby One More Time

Do not let this adorable face fool you.

I sent Violet to daycare on Monday with a wee bit of trepidation, given our recent paci removal. In the afternoon when I picked her up, I eagerly read her daily report sheet, where her sweet teacher always leaves comments letting me know how the day went. Usually they are hilarious, such as this one:


"Violet had a great day! She cracks me up going around checking everyone's diaper lately... even mine!"

I wanted to know if there was paci drama at naptime, so I scanned down the sheet of facts (what she ate, how much, length of nap, activities, etc) to get to the comments. There, her teacher wrote what essentially boiled down to: no paci problems (positive!), but Violet was hitting her friends and laughing (negative!), still she gave sweet hugs (positive!)

Um, I'm a teacher, ya'll. I recognize the positive, negative, positive framework. That's code for: we have a serious problem but I'm going to break it to you gently and then try to soften the blow at the end.

So Violet had a tough day, to put it mildly. I did not raise this child to hit and then laugh about it. I was mortified and mad. And in a quandary about how to address the issue. It's not like I could take her home and put her in timeout - she wouldn't be able to connect her punishment to the crime. But it's not like I could have a serious lecture about it and expect it to resonate either - she's only two (almost). Cue parenting crisis.

I'm fairly lucky, I haven't had too many parenting dilemmas come up so far. But I have a feeling we're seeing the turn of the tide. I did end up talking to Violet and reminding her that she needs to be sweet to her friends. I made her show me gentle hands (she runs her palm lightly over my hand). We talked about not hitting. And I had to hope it would sink in and stick. (I also wrote a lengthy note to her teacher letting her know we were taking it seriously and how we were handling it so she could use the same terminology. As a teacher, I know it sucks sending notes home but it's so helpful if parents respond, at least with an acknowledgement of the situation. I need to know we're a team.) But is there anything else I can do with Violet to let  her know this behavior is not okay? Especially since it  happens when I'm not around?

I'm glad to report that today was better. I heard no rumors of hitting or other ugly behavior. And it's interesting... Dropping Violet off at school in the morning is generally drama. The teacher has to pry her from my arms and go into immediate distraction mode while I slip out, usually without even a hug or kiss lest the waterworks start up. And Mondays are the worst. But this Monday, after giving up her pacifier, Violet marched right into her room and didn't look back. Today as well, she charged in, gave me a "peace out mama" hug, and dismissed me without a second glance. Both days she was also happy when I picked her up, not the wailing tear-stained child clutching Elmo as though she's just been orphaned. It's like she morphed into a little grown-up after ditching "night-night". Perhaps it's just a coincidence, but I find it rather curious...

Letting Go

Watching Violet try to get over her need for her pacifier has been so hard. She has loved that thing something fierce. It has been the one constant companion she could count on every single night of her life. We put off getting rid of it because we anticipated the drama, and we were not mistaken. There has been much weeping and gnashing of teeth over the past few days. We really have been struggling to break an addiction. And as anyone who has ever watching Intervention can tell you, addiction is no easy monster to face.

I'm struggling right along with her. Because I had put my faith into that stupid little green piece of molded plastic. That sucker was my go-to guaranteed sleep inducer. The words "never leave home without it" never applied more readily. (In fact, I knew we had to do something about this dependency when we got halfway to Grandma's house before we realized it wasn't in the diaper bag and almost turned around to go get it. Grandma doesn't live down the block, ya'll.) I wasn't sure it was possible for Violet to fall asleep without it and I damn well sure wasn't going to give it a try. It was cold, hard fear. I was afraid of what might happen if we removed paci from the sleep equation. And it was selfishness. I happen to like my life with a full night's sleep in it, thank you very much.

But here's what happens when you put your faith in the wrong thing. It ultimately lets you down. This day was bound to come, it was. I knew Violet wasn't going to be taking paci to college, much less kindergarten. At some point we were going to have to pull the plug (ha! ahem.) And because God is awesome that way, He had this to say in my daily devotional Jesus Calling the very morning after we threw paci down the stairs and out of our lives:

I want you to be all mine. I am weaning you from other dependencies. Your security rests in Me alone - not in other people, not in circumstances, not in pacifiers.

Okay, I added that last part myself. But can't you just feel God's gentle "Hello? Do you get it now?" elbow nudge in your ribs? Our only guarantee in this life is God. He's the only thing worth putting our faith into. Because anything else is going to let us down, get lost or stolen or ultimately thrown down the stairs.

I've had some practice this year depending on God. Sometimes that faith in God and His plan was the only thing that propelled me out of my car and into the building in the morning.

Depending only on Me may feel like walking on a tightrope, but there is a safety net underneath... So don't be afraid of falling. Instead, look ahead to Me. I am always before you, beckoning you on - one step at a time.

Sometimes as moms (or just humans in general) we feel like we have to have all the answers, be experts at everything, be in control at all times with our entire future mapped out in perfect detail or life will be one chaotic, unbearable mess. It's nice to have this reminder that we're not supposed to be in charge (thank God!) We're not supposed to know it all. We're just asked to move forward with our eyes fixed straight ahead. And it's hard not to look down, to cast our eyes to the world around us and all its dependencies and addictions. It's hard not to seize the wheel and try to steer the ship ourselves. But one step is all it takes. One foot in front of the other.

So this is me trusting God for a full night of sleep again, and committing again to this tightrope walk we're on.

The Paci Wars

Ditching the pacifier. We've known for awhile that this day needed to come. But oh, how I was dreading it. Still, Violet is almost two (the recommended cut-off point for paci habits) and there's never going to be a perfect time.

So when I casually mentioned, yet again, to sweet Violet that she was a big girl now and big girls didn't need pacifiers (we've been having this conversation at least twice a week since Thanksgiving), I meant it but didn't expect anything. Except Violet readily agreed with me this time, and even willingly tossed her beloved "night-night" down the stairs (I told her to put it in the trash and as she reminded me, the trash can was downstairs - so down the stairs it flew).

Prior to this moment I had been planning to use the weekend to catch up on some sleep and relaxation, not wage a full-on paci war. But Matt and I looked at each other, shrugged, and wordlessly seized the opportunity.

It's been a bumpy road. We've taken to sitting in the upstairs hallway waiting for Violet to fall asleep. She seems somewhat comforted by having a glimpse of us out there. I give in to this whim because I used to be the same way. Many a night I can remember crawling into my parents' bed after a bad dream or just plain old loneliness. It wasn't enough to merely be in the same bed with them, though. I had to make sure some part of me was physically touching them. It was as though without the contact, they might vanish when I closed my eyes.

We've been up for at least an hour every night, middle of the night, dealing with heartbreaking wails of regret. My once easy-to-bed napper has struggled and cried and occasionally begged tearfully for her friend night-night. It's like having an infant again - each night we go to bed wondering if tonight will be the magical night we sleep until dawn.

Matt has been a solid rock, and I've never admired him more. That first night, he trudged upstairs to sit with Violet while I laid in bed praying for peace for my child and patience for my husband. He has refused to give in. (I, on the other hand, am so weak that I offered to crack at one a.m. that first night.) He has had words of praise for our big girl every morning, regardless of how little he slept. And the battle wages on. I'm actually looking forward to going back to work tomorrow, because it means Violet's teacher will get to deal with naptime. I realize I've taken for granted how easy Violet has been when it comes to sleeping. Paci's siren song was enough to get her upstairs and contentedly into bed. Now in a world without it, she stalls, she asks for one more book, one more song, she starts crying before we leave the room, she withholds kisses.

Dependency is a dangerous thing.

Thanks, Ya'll

I just wanted to write a quick note of thanks to my readers for two reasons...

You all had such sweet sympathies over the loss of our pet. Thank you for your kind words - it's nice to know people care. (Even those of you who had up close and personal experiences with her craziness still had nice things to say about Spooky.)

And I had so much positive feedback (mostly on fb) in response the the Marking Time post, from far and wide, from people I didn't even know stumbled upon this little ol' bloggy of mine. So that was nice, too. It seems like many of us moms and parents are in the same boat. And sometimes it's just nice to have company in that boat, to feel a little less alone, even if the water is still springing through the leaks at times.

It's sad to me that we moms seem to take such pleasure in comparing ourselves, criticizing each other, competing to be better, healthier, thriftier, more organic, or holier, when really, it turns out many of us feel quite the same way when you strip it all down. It can get outright vicious out here in blog land sometimes. (Not here-here, but you know what I mean.) Imagine if we all supported each other and carried each other through the tough times, instead of hurling verbal stones and rolling our eyes with hidden jealousy.

Anyway. I'll climb off my soapbox and leave you with a picture of breakfast in our house.

Early Birthday

This past weekend was the only one we could all find to gather together, so what the hey, we decide to go ahead and celebrate my birthday just a few weeks early.

Matt's present to me turned out to be a new, fancy Camera (which I still have no idea how to use to do it justice) and my new goal is to take some type of very basic, entry level, here's how to take a picture just slightly better than your average monkey photography class. You know, in all my spare time. But here are some highlights of the day (a la the Camera... which deserves a capital C).

My mom asked for some better photos of herself on the blog... hopefully this will meet approval.

Nah, they don't like each other at all!

Us pals.

Ooh, showing off the fancy black and white setting.

D and me.

Okay, so I realize these pictures actually don't do that great of a job telling you what we did. So. A couple years ago we started a tradition where we, my parents, Matt's parents, my brother and wife, and her parents (with me so far?) all get together for a little social hour. Normally it happens at New Year's, but this year it got pushed back until now. And my birthday was just another good excuse to party. So we spent a merry few hours fellowshipping (and threw in a couple birthday presents to make it extra festive).

Marking Time

I read a great article the other day that really echoed a lot of my own feelings when it comes to parenting. It was called Don't Carpe Diem and it was all about the irony of being a mom trying to "enjoy every minute" of your children growing up, while simultaneously attempting to just survive the day.

Okay, so I'm enjoying this moment...

When I'm home with Violet on the weekends, I know I should be super excited to spend the day with her. After all, I miss so many hours of her childhood because I'm a working mom. You'd think when we have time together, I would devote myself to her completely and soak up the glorious moments spent with her. But the guilty reality is, I have lots of stuff to do on the weekends, with Violet being at the top of the list. But there are also chores to do and errands to run. And a little selfish thing called "me time" that I like to indulge in for a few fleeting seconds.

So if I'm trying to get a few pages ahead in my latest read, it would be really great if Violet would practice some independent playtime. And I try to distract her with the eleventy-billion toys scattered around the living room. While she whines and begs me to read her a book or take her outside. And I feel guilty. There are some days when, even after a long day of separation, the few hours we come back together are so challenging that I breathe a sigh of relief when Violet is safely asleep upstairs and the house is quiet. And before I know it, I've wasted a day not "enjoying" my child enough.

The horrible, secret truth us mothers bury deep in our hearts, the truth the above article dares to speak, is that we don't love every moment of being parents. The author Glennon Melton writes:

I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and the kids would be gone...Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No.

But she offers a solution, one which makes a lot of sense to me. The ancient Greeks (didn't see that reference coming, did you?) had two words for time: chronos and kairos. Chronos is the chronological timeline we measure by, seconds, minutes, interminable hours, never-ending days. Kairos means "the supreme moment," that time inbetween when something special happens. Or, as Glennon explains it:

Chronos time is what we live in. It's regular time, it's one minute at a time, it's staring down the clock till bedtime time, it's ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it's four screaming minutes in time out time, it's two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.

Then there's Kairos time. Kairos is God's time. It's time outside of time. It's metaphysical time. It's those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day. And I cherish them.

And our job is to notice those kairos moments, to dwell in them and be present for them and hang on to them, fleeting though they may be. Like when we're giving Violet her nightly bath and all of a sudden I notice how big she's getting... she almost takes up the whole tub! And it's like I'm seeing her for the first time all day, really seeing her as she splashes water around in total glee and begs for one more Disney song on Daddy's phone. Kairos comes when Matt and I finally collapse on the couch, then share a private giggle at something hilarious Violet did during the day, still in awe that she is actually ours. Kairos moments come big and small, remarkable (Violet utters a new word) or mundane (she bunny hopped across the room), but I mark them when they happen, treasure them in my heart, and then enter the parenting fray again, a little lighter.

Worth it.

A Farewell

This week we made the heart-wrenching decision to say good-bye to our cat Spooky.

She was old. She was deaf. She was losing weight. And then she stopped being able to jump on the bed. Or climb stairs. (Two of her favorite activities.) She couldn't get around well and finally stopped getting around at all, choosing to remain curled up on a blanket in our living room. She stopped eating, and finally drinking. And eventually she looked so miserable that the thought of her at peace was actually easier than the thought of what we'd have to do to get her there.

But it was hard. Like, crying in the car driving through the rain hard. I was actually surprised at how much it affected me, given that I spent more time complaining about Spooky and avoiding her talons than I did enjoying her (prickly) company. It was one of those really sucky grown-up moments that I'd rather not experience again.

Yesterday we received a sympathy card in the mail from the vet's office. A kind gesture. But then I read the six separate hand-written notes inside and teared up all over again. They mentioned her by name. They called her our "good girl," "wonderful cat" and "beautiful" and (I'm crying again... geez...) thanked us for the love and care we gave her.

You know, for a crazy cat that never particularly liked me or most people in general, she was still our cat. Matt's from kittenhood. She made the long move to Texas and back. In fact, Texas might have been her glory days. She was still fiesty, loved laying on the couch looking out the window at the traffic below, roamed the apartment with her "boyfriend" in tow. She put up with our shack in Midtown, the one with the flea infestation that put her in the emergency animal hospital for a blood transfusion at two in the morning. I like to think we bonded during the long cold months of my third trimester when we spent many a snuggly hour in the recliner watching West Wing reruns. It was nice always having someone to come home to, someone to curl up in bed with when Matt was away, even if she made sure to stay down by my feet where I couldn't actually touch her.

My feet are a little colder tonight.

Sweet kitty, we'll miss you.

Stutter

Recently Violet has developed a stutter. Actually, it's not so much a stutter as it is an inability to get her words out. Which is probably the definition of a stutter, now that I think about it. It's goes like this: "Bu-bu-bu-bu-bubub-bu-bye-bye Daddy!" It's almost as though her brain is working faster than her little mouth can get the words out, so she gets stuck on one sound until the entire thought can burst forth fully formed. It's a little cute and a little annoying. Hopefully it's a developmental thing that she'll grow out of. I'm not sure if I should be worried or not.

Speaking of developmental, Matt noticed that Violet only rolls in one direction. Is that weird? Physically we can roll her over the other way. But if asked, she only rolls clockwise. If she reaches a barrier, rather than rolling back the other way, she gets up and walk herself to another position so she can continue her clockwise movement. I don't know... maybe it's like a right-hand, left-hand thing.

And Violet still has paci. She's as addicted as ever. I just don't know how we're going to break the habit. Fortunately the dentist didn't seem to upset when I called for advice. I was expecting a bigger guilt trip than the one they lay on me every visit for not flossing enough. But they seemed rather cool with it. Obviously the woman I spoke with is a sympathetic mother. That's the only way I escaped with as much grace as I did. We are going to take that darned paci away, I promise. For one, I'm getting tired of my nightly 3 a.m. trek upstairs to dig the blasted thing out from under the bed when the "mama... night-niiiight!" wail starts up.

Alright, that's all from the mom-of-the-year files. At least I have a sweet girl who loves giving hugs and kisses and insists that I watch her "hop duh buddy" (hop like a bunny) across the living room. She really is the best.

The Joy of Books

Bringing me joy...

Tidbits

I can't believe how exhausted I was after only two days of school! Saturday night I fell asleep on the recliner mid-sentence, practically. I was so bummed to head back to school after such a delicious break. The good news is, it only took ten minutes with the kids back in the room for those feelings to fade into memory as the business of teaching was quickly recalled. An hour in and I could barely even remember what vacation felt like!

Mornings at our house.

I'm actually looking forward to starting this week, because we'll finally be back into a routine. The supper club spent last week on hiatus and it was terrible! I didn't see my neighbors! I had to cook for myself! Horrible! I think dinner one night was a bowl of oatmeal and another meal consisted of some hummus and cereal. Total bummer. So I'm looking forward to having everyone over tonight for a spaghetti feast. Small group also kicks off this week and I can't wait to see everyone and dive back into the Word - it's a different type of nourishment, but just as necessary.

Accomplishments from the weekend include: rearranging our bedroom furniture (I love rearranging furniture!), spontaneously buying new lamps for our living room at Costco (I swear it's impossible to leave that store for under a hundred bucks), starting my new year's resolution (Harry Potter 1, chapter 1, check!), and ordering Violet's custom birthday invitations! (I know, I'm six weeks ahead of schedule, but I wanted to cross it off the list before things get too crazy around here.)

This last one I'm really excited about. I knew I wanted my friend Natty to design Violet's invitations ever since I saw some of the cute invitation artwork she's been posting lately. But what was going to just be an invitation turned into the entire theme of the party! I don't want to give away too many details now, but suffice to say it is a super cute idea that should be pretty simple to pull off. With a few more details, we should be all set for my little girl's big birthday! (Let's just ignore the fact that she'll be turning two, okay. That thought I can't deal with yet!)

Playing in the yard with a new favorite friend. This girl switches allegiances faster than a two-faced politician!

Doggie Dilemma

We've been having a semi-serious conversation with our neighbors about getting a dog. As in, we all want a dog, we just want someone else to pony up and get it. And pay for it, walk it, feed it, care for it. But we can all play with it, no problem. 

But for some strange reason, no one has offered to bite the bullet.

Well, Violet and I were at Old Navy the other day and I think I might have just solved our dilemma...

Here doggie... nice doggie...

Mirror Mirror

Wait a minute, do I know you?

It's me, it's me! (Jump for joy!)

I'm so pretty... kiss kiss!

Back to Reality

Today is the last day of my winter break. Tomorrow the alarm clock will wake me with its shrill whine at a dark and ungodly hour and I'll be back to the grind. But before I go, here are a few parting thoughts:

This break has almost made me wish I was a stay-at-home mom. Sure, I tried it once and thought it wasn't for me. But Violet is so much fun right now, and I'm seeing the possibilities and potential of all we could do together (crafts! finger paint! cooking lessons!) that I can't help but wish. Of course, I know there would be a downside too (tantrums! too much tv! boredom!) so I'm trying to stay realistic. Plus if I wasn't working I'd be worried about money, so I wouldn't feel the freedom to go buy the paint and crafts, which pretty much defeats the point. And I'm sure we'd have to fire the housekeepers and that would suck. I guess it would help if I knew I loved my job, but honestly, I'm still on the fence about it. Although any other job would have earned me two or three days off this holiday, not the luxurious ten I had, so perhaps I should quit my whining.

My little Georgia girl.

For some reason she looks so grown up in this hoodie. Like a real little kid, not my wee toddler.

One fun thing about this vacation has been listening to Violet put herself to sleep at naptime. The girl chatters and sings to herself for many a long minute before she finally shuts her eyes. I need to go ahead and make her first dentist appointment, but I'm worried about the scolding I'll get over the pacifier. We have got to take that thing away from her.

I've decided, New Year's Resolution-style, that I want to visit Central Park this year. (Sorry for the randomness of this post). I've been to New York several times, but I've never just wandered around the park. Maybe I've been watching too much Sesame Street (they seem to film a lot of segments in a lovely green space I assume/pretend is Central Park). We're also toying the with the idea of making the annual Loughman summer get-together in Boston this year, so we'll see. It would be tempting to combine the trips, seeing as we'd be so close, but when I imagine wandering around Central Park, my little friend is not in the picture and I'm not sure how we'd get rid of her.

Central Park photos via EyePoetryPhotography

When I went back through the list of books I read this year, I was surprised to realize I managed to read 25! Not too shabby for a busy working mom. My favorites included The Hunger Games trilogy (which wins the prize for fastest page turner), and One Day (winner of best book to have an unfortunate movie adaptation that not only Anne Hathaway could save). And of course, you've already heard me rave about Kitchen Confidential, Bossypants, and Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me. If you managed to miss one of these, I definitely recommend you pick them up. Also, I'm coming to realize that as much as I love reading books, I'm really terrible at writing book reviews. Ah well. I'll stick to what I'm good at.

Anyway, those are my random thoughts of the day. I am blessed to have had such a wonderful two weeks off from work. Matt was able to take a ton of days off and we enjoyed spending time not just with our extended families, but as our own little family of three. I'm such a lucky girl. Don't let me forget it!

Thoughts on a New Year

“May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art -- write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.”
― Neil Gaiman

discovered via Jason Tatum

I stumbled on this quote on my friend Tatum's website and it sums up my hopes and dreams for 2012 perfectly. I've been thinking a lot about this new year, and the one we just closed the books on. 2011 brought some big changes with it, the biggest being my transition to a classroom teacher, and as those of you who know me personally can attest, it was all about merely surviving there for awhile. Fingernails dug in, holding on with eyes squeezed shut, say a prayer for me surviving.

I want more than that for 2012. If I had to pick one word that I want to describe my hopes for this next year, I would go with

thrive

I'm not content to merely survive anymore. Now it's time to grow vigorously, to flourish, to own this life and soak it up, to surprise myself.