Maturation, or something like it

So, I like to think we've been doing some growing up lately. And not just Penelope, though she has hit some milestones. What's that? You're DYING to hear all about them? OK, well, if you're going to force me.

She has started enunciating her baby language. She forms actual syllables, and we can now officially claim to have heard her say "dada" and "mama," though she certainly didn't say them in any particular context. (Except for mama. Obviously she says that with more love than you could fathom.) She has figured out how to feed herself the little baby snacks. And she's only choked on one -- and I didn't completely pee my pants when it happened. She seems to process when we're frustrated or upset with her, and it makes me rethink my knee-jerk response to a lot of things.

She got her first balloon. Had we let her, I'm pretty sure she would have taken it to bed with her and lovingly stroked it all night à la Gollum and The Precious.

She also got her first glamour shot taken. It makes me want to die. In a great way.

It just seems like every day she gets exponentially older, more intelligent, more curious, more talented, more entertaining, and I just want to eat every moment up.

But, as I mentioned, this post isn't about her. It's mostly about me. Me trying to start some family traditions. Like family photos, even when I feel chubby chubby chubby. I know I will want to look back and see what our little family was like, and how genuinely happy we were even though we had little more than each other. Probably because we had little more than each other.

We're trying to make grown up decisions, like waiting to buy a house until it's the right time for us. Even though we want one so badly, and the market is right, and technically we probably could pull it off -- though it would cause so much stress financially -- yadda, yadda, yadda. We decided to follow the counsel that sometimes saying I love you is saying "we can't afford it."

I'm letting go. I've decided to stop blaming my frustration and shortcomings on others for things that happened aeons ago. I'm forgiving. I'm focusing inward. I don't like everything I see there, but it's getting better.

And you know what I'm learning in all of this growing up I'm trying to do? Sometimes growing up really sucks.

But I know I'm a better person for it. I know my marriage is stronger for it. And I know I'll be a better mother for it. And right now, that's better than anything. Even a house (she said reassuringly to herself). Yes, even a house.

it's either this or a rant about school starting

anyone that associated with me between 2001-2003 may have noticed my love for tolkien and my interest in hobbit studies (to think it all started with mrs. french insisting on reading the entirety of The Hobbit aloud, despite her lisp... my preciouth-th-th). on a tangent, here is a list of all the reasons that hobbits rock:

• they are little but not in a creepy way--i prefer to think that we share this characteristic
• they prefer round doors--much more aesthetically pleasing than whatever boards it is that we hang on our houses
• they prefer to not leave their homes (something i relate to more and more as i burrow into the remainder of my christmas break), but the courageous ones do when their bravery is needed
• they really, really like their food and never miss a snack
• they have really great names (check out http://www.chriswetherell.com/hobbit/ for your own hobbit name. jesse and i are Dimple and Lila Boffin of Whitfurrows)
• they have excellent willpower (see the video below for more information)

i am not ashamed to admit that Return of the King was the first book to ever make me cry (now i mostly wish that i could turn that emotional function off), Eowyn is still my favorite feminist character of all time, and that I have kept a pair of awful pajama pants for five years simply because my college roommates referred to them as my "hobbit pants."

for christmas, i gave jesse the flight of the conchords tv series on dvd. needless to say, it's been on our minds. they have developed a bit of a cult following, but if you don't know who they are, they describe themselves as new zealand's original parody folk duo and have certainly warranted the occassional youtube visit.

i enjoy this clip because it combines some great fotc humor with one of my life's main passions: The Lord of the Rings. i fear it has been too long since i have tried to spread the good word about lotr (i'm trying a lot of acronyms in order to build credibility--is it working?), so with no further ado...

the french are glad to die for love

i was glad to mortify myself in front of my class on behalf of the (mrs.) french. sexy lexy. for any of you that attended skyline high school, hopefully you are aware of my halloween role model.

see, i tire very quickly of punk eighteen year-olds constantly telling me that their high school english teacher was really great and really knew what she was doing; therefore, any "advice" i may have about how to do their assignments is null and void. in a form of passive-aggressive retaliation, i elected to come to class as my high school english teacher for halloween (even though i was being evaluated that day... not the best idea?).

unfortunately, i now know how women with hot pink lipstick and moustaches are really treated in the world. apparently no one at boise state university appreciates halloween, and they thought i was being serious. i have never had so many uncomfortable looks in my entire life. a girl sat next to me on the bus, and said something. i looked up to respond, and she spent the rest of the bus ride staring intently at that speck of white stuff on the bus floor. for this purpose, i will be forming yet another organization: CCPMW (concerned citizens for the promotion of moustached women)


luckily, i finished the day off with the culinary delights of my sister, jilene. she earned full points for plating this dish. 'twas spooky, delicious, and certain to make any mouth (hot pink or otherwise becolored) satisfied.