The things I can count on

There are a few things I can count on in life, and I thought it would be nice to share them:

1. By 8:00 or 8:15 every night, I am sitting on the right side of my couch with a cup of water next to me, watching TV and working on my computer.

2. By 8:03 every night, my dog Quentin is sitting outside my kitchen window, whining and crying like the world is ending, since he wants to go into the garage and go to bed. He's so pitiful.

3. No matter what network Conan O'Brien is on, he will get great guests (Tom Hanks? Come ON, that's great!) and he will be funny.

4. On the mornings when I have the most to do to get ready for work, Zoe will wake up at least thirty minutes early.

5. On the evenings when I am most tired/frustrated/grumpy, Zoe will be at her silliest and/or sweetest.

6. Any bottle of wine opened by my husband tastes better than one opened by me.

7. The sun will always rise tomorrow.

Hmm...seven seems auspicious, doesn't it?

Read this

A mom defends both her young son's choice of Halloween costumes (and her decision to allow him to cross-dress) after she receives an earful from some bigots at a pre-school costume parade.

Sad that it happened, to be sure, but it's always encouraging to hear from another mom out there who will love her child NO MATTER WHAT and who will allow him to express himself in whatever way he chooses.

So I think she (and her little Daphne) kick ASS.

Writing, Mom-ing, etc.

This has been one of the crazier weeks of my life (not counting the first few weeks of Zoe's life, which were supremely crazy on this whole OTHER level). I've been busy, so busy with work and family; Zoe has started tantrum-ing, also on this whole other level that I never dreamed possible; and I've been writing like a madwoman...or at least, a madwoman who is busy with oh so many things other than writing.

See, I've been paying attention over these last few months, and I've been pleasantly surprised to find that, at almost any given time, there are numerous story, essay and blog post ideas floating around this head of mine. I tend to cultivate them during quiet, me-time, like during a long weekend run or at night when the TV becomes background noise and I stare vaguely in it's direction while playing with these ideas, going 'round and 'round until I don't know where I started and where I'll end.

It's been fun. It's been cathartic. And then, I took the plunge.

NaNoWriMo. Have you heard of it? I hadn't, until about a week ago. It's National Novel Writing Month, and it's a challenge. Can you write 50,000 words during the month of November? I never dreamed I could even come close, particularly since it has to be in novel form, and the longest piece I've written thus far has been about 5,000 words.

But I decided to try it.

Since you have to work on something new, I had to put aside the story/novel idea I've been fussing with for about three years now...I only recently had a breakthrough with it and vomited about 4,000 words onto the screen...4,000 words that don't even begin to do the story justice, but at least provide a reasonable outline for future work. That story is serious, intense...it's Holocaust based, which should surprise no one who knows me, since I've been studying the Holocaust since I was 14 years old.

So for NaNoWriMo, I am trying something new, something that I am having so much fun writing, I never knew it was possible. I am writing about...zombies. Yep, a plague of zombies and a teenager coming of age in hard times. Neither are original plot lines, but I am currently into my main character, and I'm having fun writing her in and out of trouble. And, I guess, what I'm finding is that it's ok (in fact, it's probably ideal) to actually enjoy what you're writing. To not agonize over each word to the point that you bag the three pages you just wrote and start all over again...every day.

It's keeping me entertained and out of trouble for now.

And with so much else going on with work and life and Zoe's two-year-old-ness, it's nice to have such a fun outlet. I mean, aside from Zoe's kiss attacks, which keep us both in hysterics for hours at a time...

P.S. If you're looking for some fun music, check out this past week's Austin City Limits, featuring Steve Martin (yes, THAT Steve Martin) and the Steep Canyon Rangers, as well as a singer/songwriter named Sarah Jarosz who has, in the past 25 minutes, totally rocked my world. Enjoy!

A tribute

Six (or seven? I'm losing track of time.) years ago, Charles and I started dating, and it was great. One day, while a little tipsy, I looked at him with roses in my eyes, and asked, "Will we always be this happy?" It was my way of telling him how much I loved him and how thrilled I was we were together.

The only thing that could have stood in our way was the absolute divergence of our backgrounds. I come from Yankee stock, Jewish roots and a family that has scattered to the four corners of the world. Charles's family has spent generations in Charleston, is an established family in the area, and most of them belong to the same church.

I couldn't imagine this proper, quintessential Southern family ever accepting this liberal Northern girl.

That shows you just how much I DIDN'T know.

I remember the first time we headed to a big family affair. It was being held at a house that has been in the family for many generations; Charles's grandfather grew up in this house with his brothers, all of whom served in World War II. The house sits on the shore of the Charleston Harbor in perhaps my favorite neighborhood ever.

I was so nervous that day. It meant so much to me, for them to like me, because Charles meant so much to me.

Everyone was absolutely lovely and I felt so accepted and welcomed right from the get-go. And one person in particular made me feel so at home, I've never forgotten it.

His name was Uncle Wing, and he was Charles's grandfather's brother. Charles's grandfather passed away before I had the opportunity to meet him, and Uncle Wing seemed to step in to fill that role. Handsome in his bow-tie, he sat down next to me on the back porch of the house his parents had built, and patted my hand as he launched into the story of his life as a boy, when the marsh that now butted against the property was a white sand beach, when he and his brothers lived in a different world. He made a huge effort to get to know me, and to let me get to know a piece of the history of a really remarkable family.

I've held a special place for Uncle Wing in my heart ever since, and have enjoyed every opportunity that I've had to see him.

He passed away early this morning, and the family has lost a patriarch, and I have lost a friend and a role model of true Southern hospitality.

He will be missed. For sure.

Election Night

It's another election night, and as always, that means I am sitting in front of the TV with Charles as we watch the returns come in. (In the interest of full disclosure, he is technically dozing off next to me, but until that happened, he was watching...)

Typically I'd be glued to CNN, like I was two years ago as I crossed my fingers and kissed my elbow in the hopes that Barack Obama would win the White House. But tonight I care more about the local results, so I'm actually watching NCIS (I think...I know it features Chris O'Donnell, on whom I used to have a MAJOR CRUSH back in middle school) while the returns scroll across the bottom of the screen.

So Jim DeMint, the bigoted, judgmental homophobe, has won back his Senate seat. There's no shock there - everyone knew he would. Alvin Greene winning the Democratic nomination pretty much sealed that deal, so I've been prepared for that one.

And Jim Clyburn has won - hooray!

But the race of interest, the race that is keeping me glued to the TV and obsessively refreshing the South Carolina results on CNN.com, is the Governor's race. Currently, Vincent Sheheen is beating Nikki Haley by about six points.

What what what?

I doubt it'll hold, but maybe, just maybe? Maybe Sarah Palin's well-funded endorsement of Haley wasn't enough to make her the automatic governor in this very red state. Maybe Sheheen has a chance? Maybe his only-slightly-left-of-center position on most issues has made him appealing to Republican voters? Maybe enough Democrats and Independents like myself, mistrustful of the scandalous stories following Haley around, actually went out and voted in this mid-term election?

Is it possible?

I don't know, and I doubt I'll be awake too much longer (5 a.m. comes early every day). So probably tomorrow, when all the results are in, I'll be eating these words and hoping that Haley will do a good job as our new Governor.

But then again, maybe...just maybe...not?

11/3, 8:06 Update...

Yep, Nikki Haley won in the end. I am eating my words, my foot, whatever. And they do not taste good. Let's just hope we can get through the next four years with no disappearing acts on the part of our new Governor.

Maybe just a little more sane...

Back in 2005, when George W. Bush was in office, with all of his "heck of a job, Brownies" and his "Mission Accomplished" signs, I was disgruntled by our government. Overwhelmingly, paralizingly disgruntled. I wasn't sure what our future as a country held.

Back then, before Barack Obama showed up in the spotlight, I turned to two TV personalities on whom to pin my hope. The sticker on my car literally read, "Stewart/Colbert '08."

Life has changed a lot in the last five years...or has it?

President Obama is as disliked by some as GW was by me. The ugly ads leading up to Tuesday's elections are as ridiculous and hate-mongering as ever. Congress is gridlocked, with very little legislation getting passed without angry rhetoric and even filibuster.

And so to whom am I turning? Again?

Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, of course.

Yesterday, they hosted the amazingly well-attended (estimates run as high as 200,000) Rally to Restore Sanity/Fear on the historic Washington Mall. They hosted a slew of fabulous musicians (if you caught the Mavis Staples/Jeff Tweedy duet, you know what I'm saying) and they emceed a massive comedy show.

And while much of it felt thrown-together, with Colbert frequently heard calling instructions into his microphone to let harried stage-hands know which way to go, and with Stewart's distressingly, endearingly tone-deafness showcased at one point, it really was a rally.

Stewart took the stage at the end to deliver what I'd love to call one of the most important speeches of our time. Sure, he's *just* a comedian, right? But he's also super-sharp, and super-well-respected in many circles.

He said:

"This was not a rally to ridicule people of faith, or people of activism, or look down our noses at the heartland, or passionate argument, or to suggest that times are not difficult and that we have nothing to fear--they are, and we do.

But we live now in hard times, not end times. And we can have animus, and not be enemies."

And:

"...the image of Americans that is reflected back to us by our political and media process is false. It is us, through a funhouse mirror--and not the good kind that makes you look slim in the waist, and maybe taller, but the kind where you have a giant forehead, and an ass shaped like a month-old pumpkin, and one eyeball."

His arguments (read a transcript and see a video here) are so poignant, so verdant, that I want to shout from rooftops, "Guess what! It's going to be ok!"

So thank you to Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert for all you did yesterday to restore my sanity even one little iota. Your work is appreciated.

Bye Bye Baby

I took Max to a Gymboree Play and Learn class this morning. We had attended a class a few months back but Max wasn't crawling yet, so he spent most of the time sitting in one spot watching the crawlers do circles around him. But now, Max is a walker, and he's getting his hands into everything. I thought it would be good for him to attend a regular class to play with other kids his age. Most of my friends have children who are two years old and up, and they are all girls. Max needs some boys to play with. He needs to make some friends his own age. And so, we joined Gymboree.

There were balls, lots of balls, for Max to throw and carry around as he walked every square inch of the place. There were tunnels, ramps, building blocks, slides, and logs to push. Max touched everything in sight and climbed on everything he could get his arms and legs around. He squealed at the other kids, chased bubbles, and tried to pull a bow out of a girl's hair. Typical boy, I suppose.

I watched his reaction, more specifically, the range of emotions he displayed across his little face with each new thing he discovered. I saw his face light up when the teacher came around and sang to him. I watched his face scrunch up in confusion as an inner tube was placed in front of him. When he wandered across the room and turned to see I wasn't right behind him, I watched as his eyes widened in a panic until he spotted me. But he was okay and turned to continue what he was doing. I think I even saw a look of embarrassment on his face when he climbed on the back of a lady squatted down only to realize the lady he was grabbing was not his mommy.

Max has become a little person, no longer a baby that clings to me or needs me to hold him. My little boy is growing up. I think I need a tissue.

Just one year

It's incredible, the difference a year makes.

When you first have a baby, you expect big changes fast, and you get it. The difference between a newborn and a three-month-old is vast, and then a six-month-old is even more incredible. Then, by the time a baby is one, they are walking and almost talking, and it's hard to imagine that this whole little person once lived inside you.

But I kind of expected the changes to slow down by now. Zoe's almost two-and-a-half. She's walking, talking and potty trained. She was already a person so long ago, it doesn't seem like she's going to change too much more.

And then, a day like today happens, when you get a direct comparison between today and a year prior, and you're so blown away by the changes that it's hard to recognize the child in front of you.

A year ago, we took Zoe to a pumpkin patch here in Charleston. She was almost one-and-a-half, and she was still pretty wobbly on her feet. She toddled among the pumpkins, drummed on them with some sticks she found, and studiously ignored all the other children. There was a gigantic "jump-pillow" that dwarfed Zoe when she stood next to it. She tried so hard to get up on that jump-pillow, but couldn't even begin to climb up its steep edges. We resorted to having Charles toss her as far up as he could, and she'd slide helplessly down, laughing hysterically as she tumbled.

Today, we went back to the same pumpkin patch.

Today, we were with her pre-school friends on a field trip. Today, Zoe ran among the pumpkins and interacted with other children. Without hesitation and on her own, she slid down a slide that was at least two stories high. And when she got up to that gigantic jump-pillow today, she climbed right up to the top and bounced with the kids who were at least twice her size.

Today I realized she's not a baby, by any stretch of the imagination. One year has taken my baby away, but has left me with a pretty awesome little kid.

Of course, then the over-exhausted meltdowns on the car ride home began and ripped me out of my reverie...

'twas a dark and stormy night

I've started about three posts tonight, and none of them felt right. The tone wasn't right, or it wasn't important enough, or whatever. You know I like to be political, and when I'm angst-ridden, I think I write better.

But sometimes I'm just apolitical and content, which is alright too.

So I thought I'd share some stories from the past few days, just to write some more about my family and me. In case you wanted to know us better.

In the first place, an update: we started potty training Zoe in early September. She's done fabulously overall, but the past few days, she's started having accidents...daily...which is just so odd. I'm wondering if it's just a phase or something like that, but I guess a phase should be longer than three days. Tomorrow I'll try the bribery technique for the first time in weeks - if she goes all day sans accident, she can have a treat when she gets home. It's amazing what that kid will do for some candy corn!

Here's an update on some of my writing projects. I have three short story rough drafts that are so rough they hurt to read. The same can be said for an essay I'd like to submit for publication to an online parenting mag. But my plan is to print them all out and start red-penning...which, to me, is the fun part of writing. I'm going to take what David Sedaris taught me and pay attention to word selection and placement, and they're all going to wind up awesome. Clearly.

Also, today felt like a good mom-day for me. Zoe did not nap at school, and I've been up since she woke me up to pee at 3:30 this morning, which is typically a recipe for disaster. But she was actually (mostly) sweet all evening, and I found a second (or third) wind. We ate tacos for dinner, a favorite for all three of us. Zoe and I sang silly songs during her bath, and we laughed a lot. It was a good night.

And finally, an update on our poor TV...it's still broken. So sad. Charles and our friend Antonio tried to fix it Friday night, and it was sort of crazy seeing the TV all spread out across our living room. They think they narrowed down the issue to the power board (I learned about capacitors that night...but not flux capacitors because they don't exist), so Charles is going to order a new one and see what happens. We've mostly adapted to life without TV - our shows and Zoe's can all be watched online. But sports are kind of a killer. Right now, my Giants are playing their arch nemesis, the Dallas Cowboys, and I am NOT WATCHING IT! AT ALL!! It's sort of painful.

But the other night, Charles and I played Trivial Pursuit instead of watching a show, and it was really fun.

So there's the silver lining. Tonight, on this dark and stormy night, I'm all about silver linings.

Friday Politics

It's been a busy day for me today, and my computer battery is about to die since I let Zoe watch two shows on my laptop this morning. Our TV is broken, but she needed her morning fix of Dora and Diego.

Have I mentioned that I'm having a MUCH harder time having a broken TV than I am a broken dishwasher? Have I ever even mentioned the broken dishwasher before? No, because I really don't mind washing dishes. But take away my Project Runway and you see a whole new side of me emerge.

Anyway, I have two links/thoughts I wanted to share with you, so enjoy.

• First, I have to say bravo to Maureen Dowd. Her op-ed piece in the New York Times this week was brilliant, and was a scathing reminder that maybe, just maybe, it's NOT cool to be ignorant, and maybe our politicians SHOULD be held to a higher intellectual standard than the average Joe. I like my President with a side of smarts, thank you very much.
• Which leads me to...President Obama has come out with his own PSA in support of the It Gets Better campaign to combat bullying. Watching it made me tear up a bit, I'll admit - he's candid and friendly, someone with whom I can see myself enjoying a conversation. But his support of the issue at hand is touching, and it's great to see such support coming from the leader of this country. Thank you, Mr. President.