Easy, awesome brisket with vegetables. 

Easy, awesome brisket with vegetables

So Here’s What I’m Afraid Of

watching  amovie

I mean, I’m afraid of lots of things surrounding the family expansion that’s on the way. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to find the time to do my work (which does not involve maternity leave). I’m afraid that I’ll be so overtired and stressed out that I’ll take it out on Kendrick, and that our baby’s first months in the world will be full of yelling rather than joy. I’m afraid that I’ll be so busy and worried about everything that I’ll forget to notice what’s really happening, which is that my daughter is right there in front of me, learning where her fingers are or how to reach for a toy, and then it’ll be over, and I’ll never have a baby again, and I’ll spend ever day for the rest of my life wishing I had just stopped everything to be with my child and watch her watch the world.

I’m afraid of all of those things.

But right now, right this moment, what I’m afraid of is this: nearly every new parent I’ve spoken to has told me that part of how you make it through those first few months with a toddler and an infant is basically by dividing and conquering. I’ve heard from more than one new mom of two that – in the beginning, at least – her partner is generally the one “responsible” for the older child, the one taking him out, playing with him, feeding him, heading out to the park with him, while she stays home with the baby (because, of course, there are some things that Dads just can’t do for a newborn; breastfeeding, for example). I’ve also heard that the moment your new baby arrives, something changes in the way you see your first child: they seem so big, all of a sudden. So capable. And that’s wonderful, and also a loss: where did my baby go?

While I know, of course, that I will love our daughter exactly as much as I love our son…I can’t imagine it yet. I can’t imagine wanting to spend time with anyone else in quite the same way that I want - need - to be with my son.

So that’s what I’m afraid of: saying goodbye to him, or at least goodbye to the just-us-three (and, more often, just-us-two) life that we live right now. When we first wake up, we snuggle under a blanket on the couch and eat waffles and page through books. We choose which hat we want to wear that day. We line up rocks in the backyard. We pick out apples in the grocery store and put them in the cart. And every night, there’s a half hour before bedtime that we spend on my bed watching Dinosaur Train and eating pretzels. I used to feel guilty that I let my son watch TV every night, but the truth is that I can’t help myself: he loves it, but I think I love it more. We’re just so still, laying there together while the sun goes down.

I know that there will be other new traditions to replace our old ones, and that the new traditions will be wonderful as well…but still: I don’t want to let a single one of these moments in the right-now go.

His ‘n’ Hers Rainbow Shoes and Virgil Stories.
In this segment, three of my favorite new-mom tips:
1) How To Stretch Out Your Too-Tight Shoes (this really works, really fixes the whole pregnancy-made-my-feet-expand-half-a-size issue, and will blow your mind); 
2) How To Take A Toddler To The Movies;
3) How To Take A Toddler To A Restaurant.
Enjoy! And Happy Monday.
P.S. Don’t judge the hair; it was raining. 

In this segment, three of my favorite new-mom tips:

1) How To Stretch Out Your Too-Tight Shoes (this really works, really fixes the whole pregnancy-made-my-feet-expand-half-a-size issue, and will blow your mind); 

2) How To Take A Toddler To The Movies;

3) How To Take A Toddler To A Restaurant.

Enjoy! And Happy Monday.

P.S. Don’t judge the hair; it was raining. 

Easy Matzoh Ball Soup! 
1995 FTW.
#BareLegsAndBoots
What To Wear: Theme Park
Olive Oil & Ricotta Cake (with Chocolate & Orange)
Boyfriend jeans and blazers…and some wear-your-“regular”-clothes-while-pregnant ideas.
So much cuteness this weekend.
I love my upper-ear piercing. It’s also annoying. 

I love my upper-ear piercing. It’s also annoying

How To Write A Book (Or, More Accurately: How I Wrote A Book)
You know how I already had one big project due in August (baby)?
Now there are two.

You know how I already had one big project due in August (baby)?

Now there are two.

One especially interesting aspect of this whole book-writing process has been how many tiny things there are to learn. There are big questions, of course – like how to write a book proposal at all, or how to get it into the right hands once it’s written – but there have also been a million smaller ones that I never anticipated. (I was nervous about all of them, just so we’re clear; Ye Olde Type A tendencies have been out in full force for the past several months.)
As an example, I didn’t know whether I should be sending my editor chapters as I finished them, or whether that was annoying and I should just send her the whole thing when I was done (the latter was preferable, as it turned out – at least for my editor). I didn’t know whether it would be helpful if I bounced ideas back and forth directly with the illustrator so that other people didn’t have to act as a go-between (apparently that’s a big “no”: it’s the art director’s job to liaise between the author and the illustrator).
Basically, I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass. At all.

Yet another example of Small Thing That I Did Not Know: what to do when I walk into a bookstore and see my book. Obviously I’m excited about it…but do the employees have first-time authors running into their stores all day long, all freaking out and do-you-want-me-to-sign-this-for-you and annoying? I had no idea, and so I asked.
As it turns out, B&N employees are really nice to people who are just excited about seeing their books on the shelves. I think authors do come in and ask about their own works with semi-frequency, so it’s not like, you know, they get a parade thrown for them or anything…but it doesn’t happen so often that it’s irritating. Basically, you just tell them you’re you, they bring you a few copies of your book, you sign them, they put little “Autographed Copy” stickers on the front cover (apparently those stickers help book sales, which is nice for everyone), and you go on your way.
Or, if you’re me, you take a surreptitious photo of the “New In Paperbacks” table, feel like a dork, and slink out the door.
So here’s a question for you: I have found this process very, very interesting from top to bottom. Writing the proposal, writing the book itself…it was exciting and exhilarating and scary and really new to me, and so I’m planning a post talking about what, exactly, it was like. I know this isn’t a topic relevant to everyone’s interests, but if it is I’d really like to be as helpful as possible, so please let me know if there’s anything specific you have questions about.

One especially interesting aspect of this whole book-writing process has been how many tiny things there are to learn. There are big questions, of course – like how to write a book proposal at all, or how to get it into the right hands once it’s written – but there have also been a million smaller ones that I never anticipated. (I was nervous about all of them, just so we’re clear; Ye Olde Type A tendencies have been out in full force for the past several months.)

As an example, I didn’t know whether I should be sending my editor chapters as I finished them, or whether that was annoying and I should just send her the whole thing when I was done (the latter was preferable, as it turned out – at least for my editor). I didn’t know whether it would be helpful if I bounced ideas back and forth directly with the illustrator so that other people didn’t have to act as a go-between (apparently that’s a big “no”: it’s the art director’s job to liaise between the author and the illustrator).

Basically, I didn’t want to be a pain in the ass. At all.

Yet another example of Small Thing That I Did Not Know: what to do when I walk into a bookstore and see my book. Obviously I’m excited about it…but do the employees have first-time authors running into their stores all day long, all freaking out and do-you-want-me-to-sign-this-for-you and annoying? I had no idea, and so I asked.

As it turns out, B&N employees are really nice to people who are just excited about seeing their books on the shelves. I think authors do come in and ask about their own works with semi-frequency, so it’s not like, you know, they get a parade thrown for them or anything…but it doesn’t happen so often that it’s irritating. Basically, you just tell them you’re you, they bring you a few copies of your book, you sign them, they put little “Autographed Copy” stickers on the front cover (apparently those stickers help book sales, which is nice for everyone), and you go on your way.

Or, if you’re me, you take a surreptitious photo of the “New In Paperbacks” table, feel like a dork, and slink out the door.

So here’s a question for you: I have found this process very, very interesting from top to bottom. Writing the proposal, writing the book itself…it was exciting and exhilarating and scary and really new to me, and so I’m planning a post talking about what, exactly, it was like. I know this isn’t a topic relevant to everyone’s interests, but if it is I’d really like to be as helpful as possible, so please let me know if there’s anything specific you have questions about.