White Friday

You won't be surprised to learn that shopping is NOT on my agenda today. With each passing year, I am less enthused about the material aspect of the holidays. At age 55, I have all the stuff I want, and if there is stuff that I truly need, I get it for myself when finances allow.

I'm calling today White Friday, because I won't be adding any black ink to merchants bottom line. Instead I'll be helping put the finishing touches on the Christmas tree decorations (Connor loves looking at the multi-colored lights), taking our official Christmas card portrait, going for a walk to the park down the street, and tending baby as needed.

In a short while we'll be driving my husband to the airport as he wends his way home to Detroit (boo-hoo). We'll all miss him. He's developed a rapport with Connor that we count on as the last resort (besides nursing of course) when the Babe gets cranky. Yesterday morning, Connor listened with rapt attention to his grandfather's long discourse on subjects ranging from backyard swings to the nature of gravity to the proper way to manage people when supervising a project.

Those are the special moments that put the black ink in my profit and loss statement.

So how are you spending your post-Thanksgiving Friday? Are you in the "white"?

What the Novice Should Do - A Lesson for Writers from a Home Cook

The novice should try some fairly easy dish that requires long cooking. The novice should consult several recipes and read them over a few times until he or she has gotten them straight in his or her mind. And the novice should call up the best cook he or she knows and listen to what that person says. And then the novice should stick to it. ~Home Cooking, by Laurie Colwin

Since my "retirement" I've had the time (and inclination) to dabble with Cooking. I mean, of course, the kind of cooking that's more complex than the standard recipes I've relied on for the past three decades of homemaking. To inspire me, I turned to some well known food writers for their insight and experience in the art of food preparation and enjoyment. Home Cooking, by Laurie Colwin, was mentioned as one I should read.

Life and art intersect all over the place, so it's not surprising that Cooking would have things to teach the Writer. Colwin's advice to the novice cook jumped off the page and set me thinking that it served just as well for the person planning their first novel as preparing their first dinner party.

Should the novice writer jump right in and begin the magnum opus that will make their name in literary history? Probably not. "Some fairly easy dish that requires long cooking" would certainly be more appropriate. Start out by writing a journal in which you describe events that happen to you, characters you know well or chance to meet in coffee shops. Write a little bit every day for a long number of days (maybe forever), write easily and freely and don't worry overmuch about getting it perfect just yet.

Consult other writers and teachers of writing. Learn the rules of grammar and composition. Read about writing and how others go about the process until you get it straight in your mind.

Call up the best writers you know by reading their books over and over. Study the way they put sentences together and string those sentences along on the page. Listen to the rhythm of their words and learn what works. Find other writers around you and have a conversation with them. Listen to what they say about how they prepare meals of words.

Most importantly of all, stick to it. Determination and patience are the keys to perfection, in the kitchen or on the page.

How about you? What's your recipe for writing success?

A Kardashian of Another Color

On the Grand Finale of Dancing With the Stars, 24-year old Rob Kardashian finds himself a surprising but real contender for the coveted mirror ball trophy. Just a few weeks ago, I was bemoaning his sister Kim's recent behavior, but this member of the Kardashian family is definitely a horse of a different color. Rob started out as a somewhat reluctant competitor on this glittery ballroom dance competition. He said his mother "made him" do the show in hopes it would boost his confidence level. He was oddly shy and self conscious, and referred to himself as being "fat." His dancing was competent, but lacked personality.  He readily admitted he was "not a performer," and found the whole dance experience very challenging.

But throughout the competition, he has really shown his mettle. He never complained about the work required, and always affably did whatever his partner demanded. He  never copped an attitude with the judges critical comments. He was gracious in accepting praise, and unpretentious with audience acclaim.

About four weeks ago his work ethic started paying off and he broke out of his shell, looking relaxed and even excited on the floor. He began taking the lead in his dances, exuding a manly presence that was not in evidence before.  As the other competitors fell by the wayside, his scores steadily rose and he landed himself in the finale, one of the top three couples left in the competition.

Last night in the final performances he scored his first perfect score, rising to the top of the pack. Like a dark horse, he has pulled away from the leaders at just the right moment, and could very well cross the finish line first when the champion is crowned later this evening.

I've enjoyed watching this young man come into his own on this show, and have to give his mother a little credit for once. In "making" him enter this competition perhaps she realized that he needed an area where he could shine on his own, away from the spectacle his sisters routinely make of their lives. He has pulled to the head of the pack not only on the dance floor, but within his own family too, as a positive example of determination and discipline.

Whatever happens on the show, I think the old Armenian ladies would be very proud of young Rob.

I know I am.

He's one cool Kardashian.

Variable Winds

Michigander's joke about the weather in our fair state. "If you don't like it," we say, "just wait a minute and it will change." But I think Dallas takes the real prize for changeable weather. In the seven days we've been here, the temperatures have swung like a pendulum between 80 and 50 - sometimes on the same day.

Weather is the really the least of anyone's concern right now. With a new baby in the house, life revolves around a tight little circle of feeding, sleeping, diaper changing, rocking. From the mother's perspective, I've heard it referred to as being in a "hazy, milky coma."

In the past couple of days, we've all been congratulating ourselves on keeping things on an even keel. The baby has been calm, we've all had our share of quality time, Mom has gotten a bit of much-needed rest. We even had a meal together last night.

But this morning two blurry eyed parents appeared, saying the Babe hadn't slept all night. It's Monday, and Dad has a phone meeting this morning, so he's trying to get himself awake and alert.

Life with a baby is as changeable as the weather, even the weather in Dallas.

Remembrance of Things Past

When we first learned of our impending grandparenthood, I lamented that I had very little recall of infant behavior. Friends assured me it would "all come back," but I was still skeptical.

Well, guess what? They were right.

Watching Connor and his parents get their bearings these first few days of life has brought back a flood of memories of my early days of parenthood. I remember how unsure I felt about everything, how I worried whether every little cry or tic or noise was "normal," how unsettling it was that every day was different and brought some new challenge. How strange it was to obsess over the amount and quality of pee and poop.

But this time is different because I now know all these things are part and parcel of being a baby and having a baby.

Right now on his third day of life, Connor's expectations revolve around being attached to his mother. Although I had completely forgotten that persistent need to "cluster feed" in preparation for real lactation to begin, I now remember experiencing it and how frantic I felt about it. Could it possibly be normal? Why does the child need to suckle every single minute? Am I going to be a milk cow for the rest of my life?

Most of all, with every difficult moment, I wondered "Is it always going to be this way?"

Of course now I know the answer to that question. Change is endemic to babies and children. Yesterday I was able to sit in a rocking chair and hold this sleeping baby for over two hours, and you can bet I savored every moment. When I was a young mother, I was often impatient with that process, thinking of all the other things I needed to be doing.

But now I know the opportunity for that kind of experience is relatively short-lived. Change will come, sooner rather than later.

Already today, Connor is more awake and alert, expecting more attention. He's enjoying walking through the house with his Daddy, listening to him retell the Peter Rabbit story, opening his navy blue eyes and trying to focus on the overhead lights, the whirling blades of the ceiling fan, his Dad's collection of model cars.

Tomorrow will be different too. And the next day after that. And all the days to come.

Today I'm just grateful for the remembrance of my past days of mothering, and even more grateful to have new memories to make with this little one.