Archive for December, 2009
The garland. It got hung. On December 24th by BF.
Twitter. I’m on there. Are you? If so, let me know so I can look you up. I don’t completely get it but I am slowly coming to the 21st century.
The book. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I sat my fanny down in my chair all day long yesterday and typed and typed and typed. My fanny and wrists may never be the same, but this book is almost done. That sound you hear? The soundtrack to my dance of joy. Although, it will soon be replaced by the soundtrack of anxiety and nerves. See, turning a book into an editor is sort of like telling someone you love him/her first. You just don’t have any idea what he or she is going to say back. You think that it might be that he or she loves you, too, but there’s that minute of silence (or in the case of turning in a book and waiting, weeks, weeks of silence). And that silence is maddening! What does it mean? Did the tilting of his head as he heard me say it mean he loves me too? Or does it mean he pities me. Ay.
You likely remember that we traveled to Ethiopia last January with three other families. One family was the Andersons and they adopted two little boys who we just adore. The boys are deaf and Jillian, their mom is a sign language interpreter.
The other day, I surfed over to her blog and came across a post that included this story:
We recently received a Christmas card from Rosie’s family. Her and her husband’s little baby was in our travel group, and Morgan Yisak loves him dearly. It had 3 pictures of baby A on there…Morgan Yisak asked if he had turned one years old yet.
“Yes, he is one now,” I told him.
He pumped both fists in the air and slightly leaped off the ground and giggled. He signed, “He made it! I love baby A. He not dead.”
Turning one is a huge celebration to Morgan Yisak-it means they made it out of infancy and the loom of death and sickness.
Morgan is 7 years old and, yet he already knows how precious, how fleeting, how impermanent life is. He knows that it can be taken from you in a moment, that nothing is guaranteed, that life itself is reason for celebration. On Tuesday, December 29th, we will celebrate the day our adoption was legalized in Ethiopia. In honor of our baby and in memory of all the babies who do not make it to their first birthdays, we will make a donation to Hopemongers as part of our celebration of this union because we believe that the only just world is one where turning one is not a surprise.
The garland is still on the table on the porch– not around the door.
100 pages are completely ready to be sent into my editor. 300 to go.
I ate 2 cupcakes today because I deserved them (or so I say). That’s one cupcake for every 50 pages. At this rate, I will have 8 cupcakes by the time I finish this book. I will need to put a disclaimer on the book cover that says, “8 cupcakes were consumed in finishing this book.” Only problem is that there is not one more cupcake in this house. Guess I’ll have to stop at 2.
I am like a teenage boy when it comes to NFL and fantasy football. I get nervous, I sulk, I whine, I lament. It’s absurd. I don’t get this way about anything in my life– especially anything I have control over– and, yet, I exhibit all of these behaviors on football Sunday.
Happy Candelas has found all sorts of new hiding places for his milk, water, my make-up, etc. When you can’t think of where else it might possibly be, look in the tub or the hamper.
Why does Happy only express interest in what is in his diaper when I REALLY don’t want him having any part of it? And how come he’s so fast and dodgy?
Lola can be very creepy when she feels like it. These days, with her mama on book deadline, she feels like it a lot. She stands behind me, stares are my back, and breathes heavily on me. I feel like she knows something I don’t know. And it is freaking me out, man!
So, as soon as the Christmas tree post went up, my friend Laura sent me this funny photograph of what they are doing to keep their toddler out of the tree. This one totally had me laughing– Laura is clearly a much more creative problem solver than I am!
So, I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions of late. They go like this…
Why did I think it was a good idea to write a 4oo page book?
And, if I had good reasons for that, why did I wait to reread a single page until after all 400 pages were written (and realizing I didn’t remember a darn thing from page 1 to 250 to 400. Why, yes, I did tell the same stories over and over again, knocking the page count back down so that I still have more pages to write)?
Hmmm, is that the garland I bought for the front door still sitting on the table on our front porch? Should we get that up before next week?
Did Lola eat this morning? Did I?
Why do gray hairs always sprout in my part line, sticking straight up like bamboo shoots?
Why does our refrigerator look distinctly like my college refrigerator– that is to say that all you will find in there is milk, Coke, cheese, and hummus. Not sure what I will eat the hummus with other than my finger. Oh and there’s applesauce, too. I’m thinking every single one of my family members would like me to go to the grocery store soon.
Here is what a Happy Candelas-proofed Christmas Tree looks like…
Wait for it…