Real Camera for the Last Day of School

It is no secret that I am a huge unapologetic Instagram lover. I take more photographs than I would otherwise, and I love the nostalgic feel of the filters.

But I'm totally ashamed of how seldom I have picked up my real camera lately.

For Juliette's last day of school (!?), I pulled out the Canon Rebel XT.

All smiles on the last day of three-year-old preschool. Next year: pre-K!

 

Sweet little sister.

Juliette crinkles her nose; Genevieve crinkles her eyes.

And then when she's really happy, she winks. It makes us squeal every time it is just so adorable.

Didn't have great luck trying to get a photo of both girls

Photo shoots with Juliette always end up involving lots of giggling.

Collapsing in the grass

Still loves to play the "touch your head" game.

Did I mention how very sick this kid was over the weekend? We were SO glad she was all better for the last day of school.

I hearby swear that I will pull the real camera out more often.

Book Head

This is the book cover I see in my head.

I thought it would be a nice touch to doctor in the bad review using Comic Sans. You know, just to add salt to the wound.

I fully expected this book publishing thing to be intense. I'm learning some things about myself that I don't particularly like. I knew I would have strong emotions... Vulnerability about sharing our story. Sensitivity to both negative reviews and the wonderful ones that use words like "enchanting" and "absolutely beautiful." Barely contained hopes that it would miraculously take off and become a literary sensation. And, worst of all, jealousy of the cool kids whose books (and blogs) are. 

One of my writing mentors recently diagnosed me with Book Head. I thought training for the triathlon would be helpful, but as it turns out I'm perfectly capable of tending multiple obsessions.

It's a little like being back in junior high, actually. Only back then hourly statistics updates on one's popularity weren't readily available.

There's really only been this one bad review. I have no doubt that there are plenty more people who read it and thought "meh," but only one person one-starred it so far.

When I bemoaned this development on Facebook, I received a number of helpful responses, as well as a few well-meaning but less-than-helpful responses. As it turns out, saying that the anonymous reviewer must have bad taste or that they are essentially a bad person doesn't make me feel any better. It makes me want to defend them and their right to pan my book.

My writing tutor from Collegeville quoted some one-star reviews of Gilead: priceless. And a super nice guy from high school said this: "Theologically thin is a golden review if you are interested in more than Christian niche publication, frankly. By the way, I am really proud of you and your accomplishments, especially the latest of being a published author who inspires the people around her. Thank you, Kay, for all that you do." 


How sweet is that? 

How can I give the person who wrote the anonymous negative review more power than the people who have been so kind and supportive? Besides, as I said in response to all of that on Facebook, I ultimately think people will take a thoughtfully-written two- or three-star review more seriously than a scathing one-star review.


Dear Ben said this: "I personally like my theology as thin as it can get: the closer to God the better." 

How lovely is that!

Here's hoping I recover from Book Head soon. And that I can receive both the raving and scathing reviews with a little more grace. And that the big-deal author who wanted a copy of the book reads it and and loves it and plugs it in Oprah Magazine. (Oh, whoops. Did I type that out loud?)

In Defense of Attachment Parenting

Today a Facebook friend called Attachment Parenting creepy.

I got a little worked up.

The irony is that I'm probably the most ambivalent Attachment Parenting type around. We did not enter parenthood ascribing to any particular philosophy. I hoped to breastfeed for six months... Juliette self-weaned at twenty-five months. We assumed our babies would sleep in a crib... pardon me while I laugh so hard I fall off my chair. If we want anyone to get any sleep at all, it's the more the merrier in the king-sized bed.

We follow most of the practices of Attachment Parenting not because we think it's the only way to parent. We do what works for us, and it just so happen that what works for us is AP. Which is not to say it's always easy. Our children are terrible sleepers. Juliette nursed throughout the night - like, four to seven times a night - until she was well into her second year. I thought I was going to lose my mind. I did not have warm, fuzzy feelings about the Attachment Parenting philosophy at that point. Indeed, it seemed like the best it could do for me was provide a worldview in which I was not a total failure as a parent. As far as the AP folks were concerned, we were doing everything exactly right.

Do you know how desperately I needed someone to tell me were were doing okay? It's just about the only thing I needed more than sleep.

The best $50 I ever spent was for the lactation consultation with the specialist who devised a wonderful, practically tear-free way to nightwean her at twenty months.

We talked about trying to nightwean Genevieve in March. And then March came and went and I just didn't want to do it. It would be like giving up my superpower. I can comfort my baby through anything. Illness, teething, traveling, you name it. The kid whimpers, and I barely have to wake up to get her back to sleep. We're going to double the value of that $50 advice by pulling the same trick when Genevieve is ready.

Jamie Lynne Grumet is getting raked over the coals. I think her big mistake was trusting Time Magazine. I would be very, very surprised if she knew that the headline accompanying her picture was going to read "Are You Mom Enough?". In her Q&A with the magazine she said, "There seems to be a war going on between conventional parenting and attachment parenting, and that’s what I want to avoid. I want everyone to be encouraging. We’re not on opposing teams. We all need to be encouraging to each other, and I don’t think we’re doing a very good job at that."

Yes, what she said.

Which is to say, please don't call my parenting style creepy. Got it?

Also, you should read Where is the Mommy-war For the Motherless Child. It's much better than anything I had to say about any of this.

Take Twelve: May

"A girl with a giraffe neck!" I'm glad she said it, because someone had to.

Three things I love, on the kitchen windowsill: church, begonias, and amethyst

We went to Union Station for National Train Day, and happened to be on the same train with some new church members. Juliette and their 6-year-old hit it off, and immediately began walking around holding hands. I am having a hard time not seeing this as another installment of those wildly romantic "Before Sunrise/Before Sunset" movies; this one is "Before Naptime."

Train parts.

Metra

Ben and Steve have been friends for a loooong time. They had no idea I was taking their picture.

Why on earth anyone would choose comic sans over an elegant font like this is a mystery to me.

Lamp and skylights

It was very loud and there were about four thousand too many people there.

Pushing the button to make the model carousel spin.

Genevieve is wondering where Ben's beard went.

Fancy that! We caught the same train home as our new friends. Juliette saw Joe board the train and literally pushed me off the seat so she could sit with him. Thanks, kid.